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Chapter 8 …
There’s one thing we should clear up first.
The color of the dots shown by the Treasure Search skill has grades.
A white dot like this one means “normal.”
For example, it would represent weapons or armor that wandering ronin might use.
At first, you might wonder why nothing was showing up?
‘Me.’
Tenshamsa (Heavenly Silkworm Silk) is thread extracted from the cocoon of a mystical silkworm that has become a spirit beast.
And you might think—it’s just thread, right?
‘Nope.’
It’s extremely difficult to cut or break with ordinary strength, hardly burns, and even has water-resistant properties.
On top of that, it partially nullifies attacks infused with internal energy—making it an irresistible “must-have” for any martial artist!
But there is a problem.
Spirit-beast silkworms are incredibly rare, making it absurdly valuable.
‘To the point where even Jeong Myeongju would use it to make junk like this.’
He couldn’t understand why clothing made from such precious Heavenly Silkworm Silk was sitting in a shabby fabric shop.
‘Kyaaah! So sweet, so sweet. My teeth feel like they’re going to rot.’
For Imgang, it was just pure profit, so he was thrilled.
Well… outwardly it looked old and worn, but performance shouldn’t be a big issue.
Durability was a bit concerning though.
[Old Upper Garment Made of Heavenly Silkworm Silk]
⌞ Defense: 10 (-90)
Durability: 22 / 100
Additional effects: Water-resistant, dust-resistant, partial nullification of internal energy attacks, cannot be repaired
…
For something that cost 10 coins, it was extremely good.
What do you mean defense is -90 so it’s only 10?
Did it get hit in the head with a hammer or something?
Yes.
Clothes made of cotton or plain silk only have 1 defense.
So 10 defense is absolutely not low.
And it even has Dongshin Gong (Body Reinforcement Technique) synergy.
‘It can easily withstand a third-rate ronin’s sword swing.’
After buying a coat and clothes for the upcoming cold weather, another 50 coins disappeared.
Ugh… my head…
My pockets getting lighter made me feel like I was falling into demonic obsession.
Ancient ancestors like Homo erectus supposedly lived without clothes.
Humanity had clearly regressed, not evolved.
* * *
On the way back, he stopped by a street stall.
Escaping his mental obsession had burned too many calories.
It was the same noodle stall he ate at every day.
Luxury like other menus? Impossible.
With how much he’d spent in three days, how could a low-tier ronin afford luxury?
Luckily, there was one empty seat.
‘Oh, jackpot! That seat’s mine!’
Just as he quickly sat down and was about to order—
“I didn’t expect to meet you here.”
A sneering voice came from behind him.
A familiar voice.
A chilling sensation ran down his spine.
He quickly scanned with his sensing ability.
‘Ha… these cheap bastards.’
Three—no, four of them.
As Imgang gritted his teeth and slowly turned around…
…he was screwed.
They were the guys whose bodies he had pierced with hidden blades last time.
Except one.
One of them was unfamiliar.
Newcomers in Hangzhou weren’t rare, so it wasn’t strange.
But—
‘Why the hell are they grinning so disgustingly?’
He itched to cut them down.
In the ronin world, someone you’ve never met smiling at you like that is an insult.
In other words, they were provoking him.
But he held back.
Because he was outnumbered.
“Cough… I suddenly remembered an appointment.”
“You too?”
“W-wait! You still have to pay!”
The civilians sitting nearby panicked and ran away.
Only the noodle stall owner was left crying.
Sorry…
Imgang apologized internally as he stood up, grinning.
“You’re smiling?”
“Isn’t this just how we make a living? You know the rules—
Najomujeon (drawn sword holds no resentment), Sa-ho-bulmun (don’t ask after it ends), Il-gyeol-il-cheong (one settlement clears all).”
“…What does that mean?”
“It means once it’s over, personal feelings are erased immediately.”
He answered the idiot ronin’s question.
Honestly, so uneducated.
They can’t understand anything beyond swords.
“Anyway, sit down. You must be hungry—I’ll treat you. Noodles with toppings? Or extra cilantro? Just say it.”
“Is this brat messing with us…!”
“Hey, you all know how the ronin world works. We’re just trying to survive—no need to get heated outside. Hangzhou’s already tense lately, right?”
Imgang smiled casually despite their insults.
Getting angry and insulting back would make him a rookie.
And bringing internal matters outside like they did? Also rookie behavior.
Rookies don’t live long in Murim.
In the ronin world, even less so.
Those who smile while hiding blades are the ones to fear.
‘Is this what they call smiling while hiding a knife?’
One thing was certain—if they fought, he wouldn’t die.
Heavenly Silkworm Silk armor, Dongshin Gong, over seven years of internal energy, plus strength comparable to a gorilla thanks to Great Strength Dominance Art.
The smirking bastard’s skills were unknown.
But the rest? He could carve them up with minor injuries.
Think about it.
Surviving alone at eighteen (+36) in the ronin world—easy?
‘If I didn’t have my past life memories, I’d be dead already. Definitely.’
Long live my past life!
Imgang once again praised his previous existence.
Then he calmed the men in front of him.
“Alright, alright. I’ll give you meat toppings and lots of cilantro. Owner, serve according to headcount. And include the people who left without paying.”
“Thank you, customer! I’ll make it delicious!”
“Come on, sit. The owner’s about to cry. Drinks? Let’s settle this like proper men with a shot of liquor.”
He forcibly pulled them into seats.
The bastards sat awkwardly.
The smirking one was still smirking.
It made him want to smash his head.
“Brothers… no, gentlemen, please look kindly on this rude young man…”
Thud.
While smiling, Imgang’s head was respectfully pushed forward.
He had been hit from behind.
He endured it.
For now.
Just for now.
* * *
Imgang wiped the blood off his blade.
With cloth? Of course not.
A ronin wipes blood with the enemy’s clothes.
“Ku… kuhuk… you damn… bastard…!”
“Hoo… brother. I told you we should’ve done this peacefully. Wouldn’t that have been better? I wouldn’t hold grudges, and you wouldn’t be twitching here like an insect after getting stabbed.”
Imgang tapped the dying man’s cheek.
The man muttered something, but it was unintelligible.
Only the sound of air leaking from his pierced lung could be heard.
Honestly.
He didn’t understand why they always pick fights when they’re struggling just to survive.
Do they really have nothing to do?
Or is this just a medieval wuxia world starving for dopamine?
‘That makes sense…!’
Before reincarnation and before becoming an orphan, even Imgang thought this place was boring.
There’s nothing to do here.
Drugs (opium), gambling, and watching duels—that’s it.
Throwing arrows into jars or cricket fights? Honestly lame.
For kids, maybe fun. For adults, boring.
“…So is that why your personalities are like this?”
If their brains are starved of dopamine, their personalities rot.
Okay, understood.
Maybe he lacked empathy before.
Maybe becoming younger made his mind younger too.
The “empathy expert Imgang of his past life” was gone…
“Wha… what nonsense….”
“Woof woof.”
Stab.
Imgang finished him off and realized something.
“Oh. The blade got dirty again.”
Should’ve just left it.
He casually wiped the blade and searched the man’s body.
13 coins.
Enough for meals.
He didn’t take the weapon.
If there’s nothing good, why take it?
Seems like they had already been stripped clean.
That’s why they were angry.
The culprit was obvious—Yeomwangchae.
Just speculation, but ronins without weapons usually meant those bastards.
“Now that I think about it, there’s a rumor Yeomwangchae is pulling one last big score before disappearing.”
Yeah. I stepped in something nasty.
Imgang scratched his head.
He hated loan sharks, and his master had warned him never to deal with Yeomwangchae—never accept food or drinks from them either.
They collect debts from even the dead.
How expensive would meals be from them?
Lucky the Black Path leader is already dead.
If not, he’d probably be demanding blood debts too.
“Tch. I might need to lie low for a while…”
Not long.
If Yeomwangchae is disappearing after one last big hit, it means something dangerous is coming.
Probably someone they shouldn’t have provoked.
This kind of thing was common in Hangzhou.
A tavern brawl involving sect members that accidentally involves the child of a high-ranking official—then the next day, the ronin ends up dead.
So Imgang decided to disappear for a few days.
He had enough money.
And his master had even told him a safe hiding place.
Early next morning, he stocked up on preserved food for several days.
Long-lasting rations—classic martial world dried provisions.
Then he headed to the place his master mentioned.
* * *
Ding!
[You have entered the dungeon: “Third-Class Hidden Cave of Thousand-Li Divine Thief.”]
F***, master!
From now on, you’re not a “temporary master”—you’re officially a “permanent troublesome master.”
The reason Imgang ended up entering the dungeon “Third-Class Hidden Cave of Thousand-Li Divine Thief” was so absurd that even he sighed.
It was autumn, a bit chilly, so he tried to sleep deeper inside.
He accidentally touched something—
and the floor clicked open, and he fell through.
“…What?”
Who builds a hidden cave like this in such a trashy place?
The location his master gave was under a bridge over a canal waterway.
More precisely, in a corner under the bridge—dug like a cave, hidden by bushes and extremely hard to find.
At first, he thought his master had secretly kept such a place to himself.
But after being forcibly dropped into a dungeon, his thoughts changed.
“Why is a hidden cave even classified as a dungeon?”
No idea.
Past life is past life.
This life is this life.
Maybe the system works differently here.
But if he had to stay hidden for days, this was boring.
“Map. Trap detection.”
Ding!
[“Arrow” trap detected.]
[You have gained experience and grown.]
[Proficiency in some skills has increased.]
…Oh.
Nice.
This is a brand-new dungeon.
