“New sect members, huh.”
As Haepung’s sharp gaze swept over his face, Namgung Un’s expression stiffened slightly.
‘It’s because of my eyes!’ He could feel it too. His gaze still hadn’t become that of a true beggar. But he couldn’t just change his eyes on the spot or perfectly mimic a beggar’s demeanor.
‘If I can’t overcome this crisis, won’t all my efforts so far be for nothing?’
Zing.
But soon, a gentle stream of energy flowed into his armpit. Bu Eunseol, gripping his shoulder, was subtly channeling energy to tickle his armpit acupoint.
‘I get it!’ Catching Bu Eunseol’s intent, Namgung Un suddenly burst into laughter.
“Hehehe!” As he laughed like a madman, Haepung furrowed his brow.
“That man’s face is scary. Ehehehe,” Namgung Un said.
Back in the Southern Palace, he had been an incorrigible rascal, naturally doing things others wouldn’t dare. He was now fully displaying that trait.
“When that man glares, my stomach hurts all of a sudden.”
Namgung Un pulled down his pants, and plopped onto the ground. Bu Eunseol quickly pulled up his pants and bowed his head.
“S-sorry, sir. He’s already not quite right in the head, and he got beaten badly.”
“Hm.” Noticing the food scraps stuck in their yellowish teeth and smelling their odor, Haepung nodded.
‘They’re definitely sect members.’
Yet, something still felt off. Looking at Bu Eunseol, he said in a low voice, “Which branch are you from?”
“I-I don’t know, sir,” Bu Eunseol replied.
Namgung Un, who had been grinning foolishly, felt a chill run down his spine.
‘Brother Bu, making a mistake like that here?’
“You don’t know?” Haepung’s eyes glinted with suspicion.
Bu Eunseol bowed lower, groveling. “W-what would folks like us know, sir?” He hurriedly continued, “An old beggar from the stone-paved road in Ximen, Fuzhou, saw us and told us to join the Beggars’ Sect. That’s all, sir.”
Haepung’s stern expression softened. “Must be Baek Hyangju from the Fujian branch, who died recently, recommending you.”
In truth, it would be strange for a ragged First Knot disciple to clearly state their origin or branch. Branch leaders had the authority to take in First Knot disciples, and since they often recruited indiscriminately, managing these disciples was practically impossible.
“That’s right, sir. I heard the old beggar’s surname was Baek,” Bu Eunseol said, bowing again. “He said if we joined the Beggars’ Sect, we wouldn’t get beaten while begging. He gave us knots and told us to go to Kaifeng.”
“I see,” Haepung said, nodding with a pitying expression.
It was said, half-jokingly, that the Beggars’ Sect had over a hundred thousand members. This wasn’t entirely exaggerated, as most adult beggars in the Central Plains were part of the sect. But most were First Knot disciples like these, wandering and begging without knowing much.
The one benefit of joining the sect, even as a First Knot disciple, was a higher chance of avoiding beatings while begging.
“Hehehe.” Namgung Un, still grinning broadly, locked eyes with the girl beside Haepung. She was very beautiful but had an arrogant gaze.
“What are you staring at?” she snapped.
As her eyes landed on Namgung Un, Bu Eunseol doubled the energy he was channeling into Namgung Un’s armpit acupoint. Namgung Un burst into even wilder laughter.
“Hehe. Ehehehe.”
“Ugh, what a complete idiot,” the girl said, turning to Haepung. “Let’s go, Master. Staying here might make my head funny too.”
“Wait.” Haepung scanned Bu Eunseol sharply and asked in a low voice, “Your name?”
“Snowball, sir.”
“Heh.” Haepung chuckled softly and turned to the middle-aged beggar standing behind him. “Inguk, promote these two to Second Knot disciples and send them to Guihwa Cave. For a while, you’ll teach them the basics.”
He added in a low voice, “This is instead of your punishment. Understood?”
The middle-aged beggar, Inguk, bowed. “Yes, sir.”
“Master!” the beggar girl exclaimed, mouth agape. “You’re making these two Second Knot disciples?”
“They seem calm and quick-witted, don’t they? At that level, they’ll learn martial arts well enough.”
“Even that fool?”
“Hm, he looks sturdy, so he’ll manage something.” Haepung nodded at Bu Eunseol. “The sect’s martial arts can be powerful even for late starters. Once you learn them, you won’t face hardships anymore.”
“T-thank you, sir,” Bu Eunseol said, bowing.
Smiling, Haepung turned to the girl. “Let’s go.”
As Haepung led his group away, only Inguk remained.
“You two are lucky,” Inguk said, nodding at Bu Eunseol and Namgung Un. “As Second Knot disciples, you won’t need to beg anymore. The headquarters will provide meals.”
“Really, sir?” Bu Eunseol widened his small eyes like lanterns.
Inguk chuckled. “Yes. Wait here a moment. I’ll send a Guihwa Cave disciple to check for lodging.”
As Inguk left with a smile, Namgung Un looked surprised. [This is unexpected. The Beggars’ Sect is generous, taking in riffraff like us as formal disciples.]
[Because we’re useful,] Bu Eunseol replied, his eyes sharp. [The sect sacrifices disciples to make energy cores without hesitation. And the best targets are nameless, unregistered beggars.]
[You mean they made us disciples to use us for artificial energy cores?] Namgung Un asked.
[The masked attackers before were all young,] Bu Eunseol said, taking a deep breath. [They need people who’ll die anyway. Their plan is to promote riffraff like us to Second Knot disciples to make energy cores.]
Namgung Un let out a sigh. The Beggars’ Sect had long upheld chivalry and done good deeds in the martial world. Yet now, swept up by shadowy forces, they were committing heinous acts, creating energy cores with human lives.
[Is there no justice left in the martial world? Of all places, the Beggars’ Sect doing this…]
Bu Eunseol said nothing. To begin with, there was no such thing as justice in the martial world. He hadn’t come here to uphold justice either. The martial world, the world itself, ran solely on motives.
Becoming a Second Knot disciple in the Beggars’ Sect, capable of learning martial arts, was surprisingly complex. It required a branch leader’s recommendation and the approval of three out of five Third Knot disciples who observed the candidate for a month. Since ancient times, the sect valued chivalry, prioritizing character over martial talent when selecting disciples. From the Second Knot level, disciples could handle the sect’s information, so frivolous or reckless individuals were filtered out.
Yet Bu Eunseol and Namgung Un became Second Knot disciples with ease. After bowing at the investigation hall and swearing to uphold the sect’s ten rules, the process was complete. With the current sect leader ill and the sect split into two factions, they were streamlining the disciple process to bolster their own forces.
After the procedure, Bu Eunseol was given the name Nojung, and Namgung Un was named Nosam, as nameless disciples took the surname of the current sect leader.
“They really plan to use us and discard us,” Namgung Un whispered, sighing as he looked at the two knots he received. “Why else would they make Second Knot disciples, who learn martial arts, so casually?”
Inguk, who had assisted with the formalities, approached them. “Congratulations. You’re now Second Knot disciples of the sect.”
Bu Eunseol bowed, while Namgung Un grinned foolishly, as mimicking a slightly dim-witted person was easier than acting like a perfect beggar.
“Now, wear these,” Inguk said, handing them clothes. Though still dirty, the fabric was of decent quality and didn’t reek enough to induce vomiting like their previous outfits. The patches were intentional, marking them as sect disciples.
“Remember, you’re disciples of the Dirty Clothes Faction. Avoid mingling with the Clean Clothes Faction as much as possible.”
Bu Eunseol looked puzzled. In the past, the sect had split into the Clean Clothes Faction, which sought to expand influence through wealth and information, and the Dirty Clothes Faction, which clung to a beggar’s roots. But that was early in the sect’s history. When had they split again?
“You’ll soon learn, but the sect leader is ill, and we need to choose the next leader. Unfortunately, the sect is divided into two factions,” Inguk explained, nodding as Bu Eunseol played along. “We, the Dirty Clothes Faction, aim to make Elder Hae the Supreme Leader and his disciple, So Hwa, the sect leader. But Elder Mak, the Long Staff Beggar, is gathering forces to claim the leadership.”
Bu Eunseol couldn’t help but smirk inwardly.
‘Worse than the Beggar King.’
At least the Beggar King, as a supreme elder, had upheld the sect’s principles. But wasn’t Haepung, using the bizarre title of Supreme Leader, trying to control the sect through his disciple?
‘He couldn’t become sect leader because he collaborated with the demonic path.’
Haepung had worked with Bu Eunseol during his fight with the Beggar King, hoping to retrieve the sect’s sacred relic, the Green Gourd, and confident that the Beggar King would kill Bu Eunseol. But when Bu Eunseol killed the Beggar King instead, Haepung was branded a traitor for collaborating with a demonic figure and killing a symbolic sect leader.
“I’ve said too much,” Inguk said, looking at Namgung Un’s vacant expression. “As Second Knot disciples, you can stay in Guihwa Cave. Come to the bamboo grove in the north before dawn tomorrow. I’ll teach you the basics of martial arts there.”
Inguk led them to a large building—Guihwa Cave, where new Second Knot disciples lodged and ate. Despite being a proper, clean structure, it was still called a “cave.”
“Rest well,” Inguk said before leaving.
Bu Eunseol and Namgung Un stared at Guihwa Cave. “Must be new recruits for the Dirty Clothes Faction,” a group of clean-clothed beggars sneered as they approached, likely from the Clean Clothes Faction. “Why not sleep outside? If you love being a beggar so much, why bother learning martial arts?”
Clearly displeased, they picked a fight. “Heh, hehe,” Namgung Un laughed foolishly.
One beggar threw a punch. “You think I’m funny?”
Thud!
A burly beggar kicked Namgung Un hard in the stomach. Still grinning, Namgung Un tumbled to the ground. Realizing he was a bit dim-witted, the Clean Clothes Faction scoffed.
“Hmph, the Dirty Clothes Faction is done for, taking in halfwits as Second Knot disciples.” Losing interest, they walked away.
“The Beggars’ Sect is truly doomed,” Namgung Un said, brushing off his clothes and sighing. How could disciples of the same sect, who should be united, turn against each other?
“I don’t understand why they’re fighting over the sect leader position,” he said, puzzled.
Bu Eunseol smirked. “Through its information network, the Beggars’ Sect is deeply involved in black-market dealings and underworld profits. The sect leader enjoys far greater power and luxury than other sect leaders.” Glancing around, he continued, “As the king of beggars, they act without hesitation. If they wish, they can indulge in every pleasure without caring about others’ opinions.”
“But hasn’t the sect long maintained clean practices? Why has it come to this?” Namgung Un asked, genuinely ashamed.
He had always prided himself on the righteous factions’ upright path, especially the Beggars’ Sect, known for its virtuous deeds. Yet now, it was not only deeply divided but corrupted like an evil sect.
“The sect began its irreversible decline with the former leader, Sangguan Un,” Bu Eunseol said firmly. “With so many disciples, the sect concentrated power in the leader alone. This allows unity around a central figure, but if that figure becomes corrupt, there’s no way to purify it.”
Avoiding Namgung Un’s gaze, Bu Eunseol stared at the distant sky. “The Eight Great Families are the same. They’ve thrived because they’ve chosen excellent leaders so far, but…” Pausing briefly, he cleared his throat and continued, “If an unworthy person becomes leader, it’ll collapse uncontrollably. For the future, you should consider various measures.”
He went on to explain the responsibilities of a leader and how to guide an organization if one couldn’t bear that weight—for Namgung Un, who would one day lead the Southern Palace.
“Even after all this time, you’re still teaching me, Brother Bu,” Namgung Un said, wiping his nose, touched by Bu Eunseol’s care. “I thought I’d grown a lot, but I guess I still have a long way to go.”
Bu Eunseol nodded, changing the subject. “From now on, we’ll roam the headquarters to find those making artificial energy cores or the bedridden Nobong. We need solid evidence to catch the higher-ups connected to the sect.”
“Understood,” Namgung Un said, his eyes resolute.
They needed to scour the headquarters for evidence of the energy cores. The Beggars’ Sect headquarters was vast, with buildings sparsely scattered. Since it was a beggar’s den with little to steal, only information hubs or libraries had guards. Bu Eunseol and Namgung Un spent the night exploring, tracking information about artificial energy cores.
“This is the sect’s famed Drunken Eight Immortals Step,” Inguk taught them the basics of the sect’s martial arts around dawn.
Inguk was originally the head of Mangyeong Hall, Haepung’s direct intelligence unit, but recent mistakes had cost him Haepung’s trust, putting him at risk of demotion. Haepung had assigned him to teach these two Second Knot disciples as a substitute for punishment. Knowing this, Inguk taught Bu Eunseol and Namgung Un diligently without complaint.
“Master this, and you won’t get beaten to death while begging.”
Typically, sects taught inner energy techniques first, as they were the foundation for other martial arts. But the Beggars’ Sect prioritized footwork. Though Second Knot disciples didn’t need to beg, they were taught footwork first to evade beatings.
“Hm,” Inguk sighed after teaching for a while.
The scrawny one was sharp but physically weak. The grinning one barely understood a third of what was taught.
‘What can I do? This is my job.’ But Inguk didn’t give up, teaching them earnestly. ‘After dealing with tough guys every day, seeing real beggar-like beggars actually feels refreshing.’
He had been struggling with the sect’s recent changes. Begging was their core, yet they were divided and hostile. Even Haepung, whom he served, and Elder Mak, the Long Staff Beggar, were training disciples separately, weren’t they? To him, this atmosphere didn’t suit the sect.
‘If only I could live thoughtlessly like those two.’
Smiling, Inguk watched Bu Eunseol and Namgung Un move slowly, as if drunk. To him, their simple, calm demeanor was the true essence of a beggar.
“That’s enough,” Inguk said after observing for a while. They didn’t seem likely to master the Drunken Eight Immortals Step even in a year. Better to teach martial arts briefly and let them eat heartily—they’d like that more.
“You’re done. Go eat and come back tomorrow.”
“Understood.”
“Hehe.”
Bu Eunseol and Namgung Un bowed to Inguk, then ate a lump of cold rice distributed at the headquarters. Occasionally, Clean Clothes Faction beggars harassed them, but they endured silently, wandering the headquarters as usual.
With Second Knots tied and perfect beggar appearances, no one in the headquarters suspected them. They napped under tree shades when they found a spot. One looked pitifully frail, the other laughed incessantly—no one in the world would think they were the heir of the demonic path and a Southern Palace scion.
