Urban Vagabond: Reload

After the spell formation was released, the license exam was suspended entirely.

The Martial Alliance Leader, the Gate Masters of the Eight Great Sects, and the responsible officials gathered in one place and held an emergency meeting to contain the situation.

The injured late-bloom talents were all being transported to the ward inside the Martial Alliance and treated.

“Gaaah! It hurts, so stop touching me!”

“Look at that rag lying right next to you—quiet as can be—and you’re whining just because your shoulder got scratched?”

“A scratch? Are your eyes broken? I was this close to becoming the One-Armed Blade Wanderer!”

“...Calling a person a rag is a bit much. Don’t you think?”

Shin Kangheon and I were lying side by side, receiving treatment. Not long after the emergency care was finished, Kim Bokja had come to visit.

...To us, it looked less like a visit and more like she’d come to torment us.

She pressed down on our wounds with her fingers, one after another.

“Hold still. Your big sister’s going to do some pressure-point circulation with love.”

“Nurse! There’s someone here interfering with the patient’s recovery!”

“No. Don’t. Seriously, don’t...”

Ignoring our pleas, begging, and curses like they were background noise, Kim Bokja gently pressed and prodded the stitched and sealed wounds, checking their condition.

“...All right. You won’t scar too badly.”

Because she worked in the underworld, she’d seen plenty of injuries. Even at a glance, the emergency treatment had been excellent.

And there was a saying that when it came to treating cuts, internal injuries, and external trauma, no place in Korea beat the Martial Alliance hospital—so we probably wouldn’t have to worry about infection or lingering aftereffects.

Relieved inside, Kim Bokja crossed her arms and launched into full-scale nagging.

“I’m telling you, you should’ve known when to stop showing off. Since when is a license exam worth risking your life and brawling with assassins like lunatics? If you die doing that, do you think anyone’s going to thank you? Honestly. I knew this was coming from the moment you two started acting like you had to beat each other for first place. And especially you, Kim Muhyuk—”

Shin Kangheon turned onto his uninjured shoulder.

I avoided Kim Bokja’s eyes and pretended not to hear.

A bright blue ghostfire flared in her pupils.

“These bastards aren’t paying attention to big sister, are they?”

She looked like she was about to summon an anomaly on the spot, so both of us hurriedly “focused.”

“I heard everything! Agh—why is it coming for me again?!”

Kyaaah!

Shin Kangheon swatted away the anomaly pecking at the top of his head with his good hand.

Before it became my turn, I tried to change the subject and asked the thing I’d been curious about.

“By the way—how did you even get in here?”

“...You’re asking late. The teacher called out of nowhere and begged, saying they urgently needed a spellcaster. So I ran over without even wiping the sleep out of my eyes.”

“My master?”

Choi Geon had disappeared again before the Gate Masters of the Eight Great Sects stormed the Martial Alliance.

He’d given me a bitter smile and said nothing good came from crossing paths with people tied to old grudges.

‘He still doesn’t want to reveal himself to the world.’

Since Choi Geon kept a mask on in front of others, the only people who knew who he was were Yeo Pilgeuk and No Gucheon.

After arriving at the Martial Alliance at Choi Geon’s request, Kim Bokja told us what had happened.

“They had to dismantle the spell formation you were trapped inside immediately, but to do that they needed a top-tier spellcaster. And it’s not like you can just grab someone competent off the street.”

If it weren’t for this Red Rabbit, you two would’ve been stuck in there for another hour.

Since her story inevitably ended as self-praise, we nodded with awkward expressions.

“Well, thanks to that, I got to look at a bunch of high-level formations, so it wasn’t bad for me either.”

Kim Bokja continued, her eyes gleaming with obvious satisfaction.

“You two know Mystic Hall? Those spellcasters asked me if I wanted to seriously learn spellcraft under them.”

She lifted her chin and smiled, full of confidence.

Mystic Hall.

A spellcaster organization that cooperated with the Martial Alliance—its scale made it the largest and most authoritative among the spellcaster groups, even with their closed-off nature.

‘If ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) I remember right, Dr. Man came from there too.’

Hearing the name Mystic Hall made Dr. Man surface in my mind.

—If you ever run into me there... don’t do anything pointless. Tell them to take care of the family.

The man who’d sent me back into the past with death right in front of him.

I hadn’t forgotten his request. I’d tracked down Dr. Man’s office address and sent him a letter.

It said there was already a successful case of the “artificial dantian research” he was working on, so he should stop wasting effort on pointless things and take care of his family instead.

‘I mailed him the content of his research before it’d even be released to the world for another year. He won’t do anything reckless.’

While Kim Bokja talked, Shin Kangheon—who’d been quietly listening—said it wasn’t a bad opportunity and told her to learn.

“Aren’t spellcasters way more closed-off than martial artists? Then isn’t this a perfect chance?”

“Not really... I think I’m fine as I am. I just took their card.”

Despite her indifferent tone, Kim Bokja looked like she was genuinely thinking it over.

In a society where spellcasters rarely let outsiders in, getting a chance to enter Mystic Hall was as hard as picking a star out of the sky.

I gave her serious advice.

“Why don’t you use this chance to quit the underworld, too? You can’t work in dangerous places forever.”

“What are you, my dad? And who’s the one doing the most dangerous stuff, huh?”

Kim Bokja stared at me like I was ridiculous.

If she could, she probably would’ve had Kkagwi tear me up, but unlike with the easy target Shin Kangheon, Kkagwi was scared of me and only hovered nearby without daring to touch me.

Kyaaht...

“Kkagwi looks bigger again. But why is it so scrawny?”

When I stared straight at it, the anomaly that had been cowering shrank further—then, like it was venting its frustration, it lunged at Shin Kangheon and started biting his crown.

Tap tap tap!

“Ah, come on! Why are you picking on me again?! Later, if I catch you, I’m stuffing you in a balloon and sending you into the sky!”

“You psycho—can’t you still not see anomalies?”

“I’m starting to see them, all right? I can do everything you can do!”

“Train harder. Sparring with you’s getting boring these days.”

“Y-You bastard—once we get out of the hospital, we’re fighting right away!”

I baited Shin Kangheon, and he flared up on cue.

Watching us act exactly as we always did, Kim Bokja felt reassured—and also looked at us like we were pathetic.

“Idiots with nothing in their heads but martial arts...”

Knock knock—

The knock from outside the ward cut off our conversation.

A moment later, someone opened the door and stepped in.

“Heh heh. I came because I was worried, but I could hear you making a racket from far away, so I can finally breathe.”

“Elder No?”

It was No Gucheon, an elder of the Martial Alliance.

He’d come personally to deliver news.

His face looked deeply tired, but thankfully, it wasn’t dark.

I asked what had happened since the exam was suspended.

“How did the meeting go?”

“It’ll probably go all night. We’re interrogating the spies we captured, so we’ll have results soon. And after that is when the truly important information will come out...”

No Gucheon lowered his voice slightly and gave more detail.

“The best interrogation specialist I know in the Martial Alliance is handling it, so it won’t take long to find out who’s behind this.”

He winked with one eye.

The “best specialist” he meant was the Sword Demon, Choi Geon.

‘If it’s Master, I can trust it.’

Choi Geon was in the interrogation room right now, having changed his face with bone-sculpting. The Eight Great Sects had no idea he even existed.

“...You two are hurt pretty badly.”

After checking our injuries, No Gucheon stepped back. Then he performed a crisp fist-and-palm salute and bowed his head.

“The Martial Alliance owes a great debt to the young late-bloom talents. On behalf of the Martial Alliance Leader, I offer thanks—and the Alliance will never forget this favor.”

“Elder No?”

“Why are you doing this?!”

An elder of the Martial Alliance bowed to juniors so far beneath him it was absurd.

Shocked, Shin Kangheon and I tried to sit up, but No Gucheon stopped us—and then offered thanks to Kim Bokja as well.

“And to the young spellcaster, my sincere gratitude. Thanks to you calming the spell formation, we were able to quickly find Yang Hayun and Kim Muhyuk’s location.”

“...Mystic Hall said they’ll pay enough to make it worth it.”

Faced with such polite thanks—something rare in the underworld—Kim Bokja scratched her cheek, embarrassed.

No Gucheon looked at the three of us and smiled with satisfaction.

Then, returning to his normal tone, he said,

“Just seeing you three tells me the future of the orthodox martial world is bright.”

A major accident had happened inside the license exam, but thanks to people like us stepping up, the best possible outcome had happened—no one had died.

Of course, the Eight Great Sects were tearing into the Martial Alliance Leader like this was their chance, but somehow, it would be smoothed over.

‘It might even become a blessing in disguise.’

In the end, the Martial Alliance had blocked the assassins who infiltrated it, and even rooted out hidden spies.

If they caught the people behind it and punished them properly—proving the Martial Alliance’s strength was still intact—they might even reclaim past glory.

But...

One lingering concern surfaced in No Gucheon’s mind, and he asked me carefully.

“Are you truly sure it’s all right to announce it externally the way you requested?”

No Gucheon knew perfectly well that no matter what anyone said, the top contributor in this incident was me.

I had fought the assassins targeting Yang Hayun, protected my companion to the end even though I could’ve run, and even took down the leader of the assassins who’d disguised themselves as Black-Whites.

But I’d asked them to keep all of it secret.

“Yes. Honestly, it’ll be more comfortable for me if you do it that way.”

I had personally asked the Martial Alliance Leader to record all my contributions as Yang Hayun’s.

‘Yang Hayun took down most of the assassins. I only helped a little at her side.’

That was also what I told the Eight Great Sects’ martial artists who’d come to ask what happened.

Those proud Eight Great Sects people nodded as if that was obviously the case, never suspecting anything, and left.

‘Even I can’t believe it, and I saw it with my own eyes...’

No Gucheon let out a hollow laugh.

Even he couldn’t have imagined that a late-bloom talent with only a Level 4 constitution would outperform a Level 1 special constitution.

Inside the Martial Alliance, the truth was known only to the Martial Alliance Leader, No Gucheon—and a handful of late-bloom talents who had fought me directly, who felt suspicious but weren’t sure.

‘Truly astonishing. At that age, such skill, such character, and even a detached attitude toward fame...’

The thought naturally came to him that the Sword Demon, who’d lacked disciple luck all his life, had received it all in one burst in his later years.

‘Drawing attention now would only get in the way of training.’

I only hated the nuisance of unwanted attention if my real strength was exposed—but to No Gucheon’s eyes, I looked like a genuine young hero.

“You say you don’t need any reward, but it weighs on my heart. Is there anything you desire?”

“Mm...”

When I hesitated, moving my lips as if unsure, No Gucheon—more anxious instead—asked again.

“It’s all right. Speak comfortably. Reward money, elixirs—anything you want, I will personally convey it to the Martial Alliance Leader.”

He felt deeply indebted, and if there was anything I wanted, he wanted to grant it.

And since I’d read that 마음 clearly, I let the silence stretch just long enough to make him fidget—then opened my mouth.

“Then... even briefly... could I receive instruction from the Martial Alliance Leader?”

For the first time, embarrassment surfaced on No Gucheon’s face—the same man who’d been acting like he’d hand me anything.

“Mm? Instruction from the Martial Alliance Leader?”

Normally, it was a privilege only given to those who placed in the top three in the license exam’s overall rankings.

For fairness, the correct answer was obviously to refuse.

But with this debt sitting on his heart, it wasn’t easy to reject.

Seeing his reaction, I lowered my head with a disappointed expression and apologized.

“I think I spoke out of turn. It’s nonsense for a mere late-bloom talent to request an audience with the Martial Alliance Leader. Please pretend you didn’t hear that.”

“Heh heh—no, it’s not that... It’s not impossible, exactly...”

I hadn’t forgotten my biggest reason for joining the license exam.

To obtain the Five Elements Divine Art from the Martial Alliance.

As long as you got there, it didn’t matter how you went.

Even with the license exam suspended and the final result uncertain, I intended to get the Five Elements Divine Art—one way or another.