I brought out the leftover side dishes from the kitchen and sat outside Cheolli Inn, eating a late lunch.

The food had gone cold overnight, but I didn’t care about the taste. If you keep eating bad food, the rare occasion when you have something decent tastes like a royal feast.

I’d been saving space in my stomach with terrible food just for that kind of day. I was chewing on a cold piece of spicy beef tendon when a man came running from the left and disappeared to the right.

Thud-thud-thud!

I kept chewing and watched the man disappear into the distance.

“……”

What’s he running for in broad daylight? Not that I knew the guy. His clothes weren’t even the kind you'd see in Baek Eung-ji. I briefly thought of chasing him like a stray mutt, but the thought passed.

After all, the Drunk and the Lecher were still asleep after staying up all night in the inn. I was starting to feel a bit of a lump in my throat, so I took a sip of the strong liquor Sword Demon had brought.

“Burp.”

With three chunks of spicy tendon and two sips of booze, lunch was taken care of. I didn’t feel like doing the dishes, so I slumped in my chair and stared up at the clear sky.

If I dozed off like this, you’d be hard-pressed to find another tavern boy more pitiful than me in this world.

Just then, I heard a short scream from the direction the man had run off to. Couldn’t tell if it was his voice or someone he’d attacked.

A moment later, a familiar-looking man came running back with someone slung over his back, locking eyes with me as he passed.

“Good afternoon, Pavilion Lord!”

It was Sambok, carrying an unconscious man on his back. He greeted me and kept running to the left.

I replied as he fled.

“You’re working hard.”

Still, why is Sambok running that way? Would’ve made more sense to head north into Baek Eung-ji, where there are more people around.

Before long, Sambok reappeared, as if he had decided to turn back around. Had he been running for over an hour? His hair was soaked in sweat, and his face looked… something. Like he was forcing a smile through either laughter or tears.

“Haha… Just passing through.”

I nodded.

“Right. You’re working hard.”

I couldn’t help but check who he was carrying. The guy had turned his head in my direction—his dark-circled eyes half-open. Looked like he’d been poisoned.

It was that bastard, the Third Young Master.

He was still conscious enough to mumble something that reached my ears.

“Put me down. It’s better to kill me and move on.”

Sambok snapped.

“Shut up already!”

I clapped toward the fleeing Sambok.

“Wow, you really told the Third Young Master of the Demonic Cult to shut it. You’ve grown, Sambok. You’ve made it. You’ve really made it.”

Maybe “made it” wasn’t quite the right term, but it looked that way to me, and if it looks that way, then it is.

Then came a variety of figures dressed in all kinds of outfits from the left, chasing after Sambok.

The lack of matching uniforms was good news for Sambok.

At least they weren’t directly from the Demonic Cult.

But the fact that they were likely attached to the Cult still meant they were outer sect filth—bad news.

So I got to enjoy the rare sight of Demonic Cult members being chased by the outer riffraff.

Turns out, even the Demonic Cult isn’t all that different. If you're weak, you get treated like that. Still, seeing Sambok risking his life to save the Third Young Master… maybe, just maybe, Sword Demon was right—they weren’t entirely useless as bodyguards.

Nearby, I could hear bones breaking and people screaming. Hard to keep staring at the sky with all this human drama going on.

For the third time that day, Sambok came running over, smiling like a fool but speaking with surprising calm.

“Pavilion Lord?”

“What? What do you want now?”

“May I have a drink of water? I’m a bit thirsty… haha…”

Sambok stopped in front of Cheolli Inn, still carrying the Third Young Master, with a dry smile that practically defined the phrase.

I pointed inside the inn.

“There’s water inside. Go in quietly. People are sleeping.”

Sambok bowed deeply with the man still on his back.

“Thank you, Pavilion Lord.”

He carried the Third Young Master inside.

I looked around, confused.

“…Haa. I’m involved now, aren’t I?”

Apparently, giving water to a thirsty man is no small matter.

After a few sighs, a group of outer sect or maybe just black path thugs came swarming in. Some were limping or had their faces bashed in. Looked like Sambok had managed to land a few blows during the chase, though they were still overwhelming him in numbers.

I was starting to recognize some of their faces.

I had even considered offering them water too, but then one of them yelled at me.

“Where’d he go?”

“Didn’t you see? The guy carrying someone!”

I pointed north, toward Baek Eung-ji. The group, who had started turning left, began yelling and tugging at each other’s sleeves before changing direction and heading north.

Watching them run off toward Baek Eung-ji made me laugh quietly.

‘What a bunch of clowns.’

Just then, one of them happened to glance back and froze the moment he saw my face.

“You’re laughing? Stop right there, everyone.”

The group slowed their breath and huddled.

“He was smiling after pointing us to Baek Eung-ji.”

“Do we even have a reason to go north?”

“Hmm. Should we split up again?”

“No, check the inn first. His expression is definitely suspicious.”

It’s ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) not that my expression was suspicious. I’m just a suspicious person by nature.

The ones heading north turned back and slowly approached Cheolli Inn. I looked at them one by one and spoke.

“…Are you coming here to die? Stop right there.”

I erased the smile from my face and glared.

***

They all stopped at once.

“……”

What I said wasn’t something a mere tavern boy should be saying, so confusion spread across their faces.

Relying on their numbers, they tried to intimidate me.

“Hey, tavern boy. Do you even know what you’re interfering with? This involves the Sacred Cult. Choose your words wisely.”

I nodded.

“I’m warning you—lower your voices. People are sleeping inside. And what kind of lunatic tavern boy would interfere with Demonic Cult business?”

“……”

“But I’m that lunatic.”

I let out a snicker and picked up a chopstick.

“Listen up. I don’t care if it’s the Sacred Cult or whatever—don’t make a mess in front of the inn. And you lot aren’t even part of the Cult. You’re just idiot errand boys, mercenaries chasing money, or scum hired by the outer sect.”

One of them spoke in a more composed tone.

“Friend, the person you’re hiding is the Third Young Master of the Sacred Cult. If you hand him over, we’ll leave you out of this. Do you really want to get involved in a battle between the great lords?”

“The two inside are ones I personally saved. I won’t let them die right after. And that guy—he can’t die near Baek Eung-ji. You idiots probably don’t know, but his death could trigger a war between Baekdo and the Demonic Path. So no, I can’t allow it. Back off. You’re the ones interfering in a power struggle for coin. You think the Cult Leader wants this kind of fight?”

Just then, a deep sigh came from inside the inn—and as I feared, the Lecher came out looking royally pissed.

“…I can’t sleep. This is driving me mad.”

People get eighteen times more pissed off when woken up from sleep. He let out a deep breath, shook his head, and took a swig from the bottle on the table.

“…Lucky for you my master said to spare you. Otherwise, you’d be dead by now.”

Then, without warning, he dashed forward, leapt into the air, and launched a flying kick.

Thwack—!
The guy he kicked spun in the air and landed headfirst with a crash, twitching on the ground.

The Lecher returned to the table, picked up a spicy tendon chunk with chopsticks, and said,

“If you don’t get lost, I’ll kill every last one of you.”

I looked at him.

Seriously, what kind of lunatic just does a flying kick without even saying anything?

As the thugs backed away, they shouted,

“We’ll be seeing you again!”

“What?”

Instantly sobered up, I hurled the chopstick.

Swish!

With a thump, it pierced the shoulder of the guy who’d shouted. Screaming, the rest of them scrambled and vanished.

I accidentally locked eyes with the Lecher but had nothing to say, so I turned to look at the scenery.

“……”

Just then, Sambok came out and bowed.

“Pavilion Lord, Young Lord Mong. Thank you. We’ll leave as soon as the Third Young Master finishes purging the poison. Seems like there’s a master from the Heavenly Alliance nearby.”

The Lecher and I both asked at once,

“The Heavenly Alliance?”

“What’s the Heavenly Alliance doing here?”

Sambok explained,

“One of the attackers was a Poison Eye from the Heavenly Alliance. Others were probably hired too. Seems like the other Great Lords employed some famous black path factions. We did the same, so I can’t say much.”

“Is that so?”

Sambok and the Lecher looked at me.

I pulled out a coin pouch and said,

“Sambok.”

“Yes, Pavilion Lord?”

“Since you’re here, go buy a good amount of meat. None of us have eaten properly.”

When I handed him the money, Sambok took it with both hands and asked with a serious face,

“Meat? Now?”

I pointed lazily in front of the inn and said,

“The weather’s nice. Let’s grill some outside. Get booze too. All kinds of meat. Put it on a grill, firewood burning underneath—fwoosh, sizzle sizzle, you know what I mean? Grab some vegetables too. Whether we fight or run, we need full stomachs.”

Sambok muttered,

“Buying it isn’t hard, but the Third Young Master still needs to focus his energy…”

“I said shut up and go. Get good meat. Fresh. Today, let’s go fresh. Got it?”

“Yes.”

He stared at the inn for a moment, then said,

“…Please continue your energy meditation. I’ll run the errand.”

“……”

Sambok took off using light footwork, and the Lecher turned to me.

“Why the hell are we grilling meat now? Are you insane?”

I nodded, watching his expression.

“…You don’t kick out the destitute. And the thirsty should be given water.”

“Why?”

“I ignored them twice. Third time was too hard.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sambok passed by twice, carrying that guy on his back, running for his life.”

The Lecher laughed.

“…Absurd.”

“It’s hard for me to ignore something three times. Kick out the desperate, ignore the thirsty—you’re no different from the Cult Leader then. That guy might be the Cult Leader’s son, but giving him water and one warm meal? That’s something even I can do. Even you can. I wonder if the Cult Leader even knows his son’s this miserable. Probably doesn’t care anyway.”

There was a brief silence before the Lecher spoke quietly.

“…Come to think of it, I’m craving some meat too.”

I nodded.

“Confirmed.”

.
.
.

We pushed three tables together and made a stone fire pit next to them. Sambok grilled various cuts of meat over it. Some on a griddle, others stir-fried using kitchenware. Watching him, I realized he had the talent to be a fine cook. Why he was stuck being a bodyguard was a mystery.

Anyway, we laid out vegetables, poured the booze, and shared grilled meat as it came off the fire. Even the Drunk, woken by the smell, dragged his ugly face out and joined in.

The forces of the Demonic Cult might show up.

So might the black path and outer sect scum hired by the Great Lords.

Still, we sat around with grease dripping from our mouths, eating grilled meat.

After taking over for Sambok, the Drunk started skewering meat onto thin rods from the kitchen and roasting them over the fire.

Then he snapped his fingers and nodded.

“Nice.”

Apparently finished experimenting, he began threading all sorts of meat onto the skewers.

I stood beside Sambok and the Lecher and said to the Drunk, who was grilling all kinds of cuts at once:

“Wow, that looks amazing.”

The Lecher nodded.

“Second brother’s a meat genius.”

Sambok hesitated, then cautiously asked the Lecher,

“Second brother? Is there a ranking among you?”

The Lecher didn’t respond, so Sambok looked at me curiously. I gave him a short answer.

“If you’re asking who we are, it’s only fair we tell you. We are the Four Great Villains of Jianghu—famous and infamous alike.”

The Lecher and the Drunk both chuckled at the same time.