810 - I Am This Murim’s Crazy B*tch

[Our Wish for Massacre] How on earth did the Peaceful One manage to sell so many people, and to where? In truth, human trafficking was no easy feat for a mere peddler. Even if one were to gather a multitude of slaves, where would they sell them, and how? Finding a place in need of slaves was far from easy, and just showing up unannounced to inquire, "Are you suffering from a labor shortage? I have fresh slaves here, are you interested?” was not a feasible method of negotiation. Even if they did put in the legwork, people need feeding, clothing, and housing—keeping any person was bound to be expensive, not to mention how could a mere peddler manage such expenses? Therefore, there must be a predetermined destination for delivery. Those with a prescription for the plague cure, the ones who concocted such a wicked plan, were akin to lairs that housing pests. Killing them would only benefit the world, ridding it of such vile creatures! In the midst of Qing's growing anticipation! “Well, there is, a merchant who handles all transactions separately,” someone explained. “Ah, things never go smoothly.” A merchant. Among the five lowliest jobs in Zhongyuan, they held the top spot as the most contemptible. They were the ones who bought and sold people. In Qing's hometown, they’re referred to as human traffickers. So it wasn’t direct delivery; there was a middleman involved. Qing, who was eagerly awaiting the chance for slaughter, found this rather disappointing. However... But if it's a Black Market? Aren’t there a ton of merchants there? After all, it's a chance to rid the world of human traffickers all at once. Qing had previously wreaked havoc at the Black Market. More accurately, she'd caused chaos and then fled. Back then, Qing's realm of power was a bit lacking. Her companions were even weaker, unreliable in combat, and unable to stand shoulder to shoulder in battle. Yes, that's right. The reason she fled back then was due to her untrustworthy, fragile friends getting in the way. But now? Who am I? The Transcendent Realm Heavenly Sword Flower. Moreover, her companions were now somewhat accomplished combatants (or at least had fragments of skill), thus finally worthy of bestowing upon them the glorious honor of having her back. With this team, they could certainly obliterate all the vile merchants... A rare malevolent glint sparkled in Qing's eyes. ---- The date the Black Market opened was four days after the Peaceful One planned to leave. In hindsight, it seemed he wanted to confirm whether the medication worked himself, which inadvertently prolonged their stay until the market opened, guaranteeing the authenticity of the medicine without spending a penny himself—an incredibly frugal scheme. Lung Doctor selected patients of varying ages, sexes, and details of the plague to first try the treatment. He needed to confirm if the medicine worked, if there were any side effects, and how it affected different patients. In the meantime, Qing prepared her sword in anticipation of the massacre. She literally honed her blade. “Hm.” “What is it?” “I’m pondering why it seems so awkward for a martial artist to hone their sword. I didn’t expect you to know how to maintain your blade,” observed Peng Daesan. Well, Qing tended to use her weapons ruthlessly. Even the Moonlight Sword had a hard time under her ownership. Using it as a cane when idle, picking apples with it, digging up roots or as a kindling poker when lighting a fire, hunting, and prepping game meat with it… Her current Moonlight Sword (Tenth Edition) was a masterpiece crafted by a blacksmith who poured his gratitude and expensive materials into its creation. While Qing's skills improved, the bond between a warrior and weapon grew stronger, and the weapon managed to endure with its owner’s growing strength. However, the question was— is the Moonlight Sword truly the Tenth Edition? Every time it’s repaired, it’s forged and tempered anew, with rare metals from Seol Ganom Trading mixed in and impurities removed. Just like a well-maintained ship where original parts are gradually replaced; does it retain its identity as the same vessel? The best answer is this. Whatever the owner says it is. If Qing claims it's the Tenth, then it’s the Tenth. And thus, she eagerly counted the days. What if someone at the Black Market recognized her? N2Q1UkN6Sk9iTEJZNGlLdU5pL0JqaXlVbnFOVDdCWGd6ZmlENk9hNGdlcGU3cGJHQkFOSVpZMHN5Z0gwUVJRRA The Black List, known as the Execution List in Zhongyuan, what if thugs laden with karma of crimes attacked, just imagining it made her heart race. At last, Qing emerged from the quarantine zone, with the Peaceful One tied up tightly in front of her. After all, if they could leave as they pleased, it wouldn't be quarantine. Due to pleadings from branch masters, who couldn't reveal their identities but were treating Qing as a respected figure who must not be disregarded, the military formalities were practically opening a path for her. Following the lake, over Kunming’s southern gate. Heading out at sunset to coincide with the night market, as she left the city gates, there were long lines just like when she entered the city—a parade of merchants settling in, lighting fires, and preparing meals, strewn along the road. Walking against the crowd lined along the road, they soon reached a mountain ascent, leading along a rugged path. After crossing the mountain, behind an embankment near a serene lakeshore, a large bustling night market came into view, decked out in red lanterns. The lanterns draped in red cloth bore the character ‘影’ (Shadow) in thick strokes. The meaning was immediately clear. [Welcome to the Shadow Market.] Written plainly on a banner draping the entrance. “What is this? Isn’t this supposed to be the Black Market?” "Well, the Black Market has long since perished. So a new gathering of merchants formed this market. Using the old name was considered unlucky, so they changed it. But isn’t it still the Black Market? Though named Shadow Market, everyone just calls it the Black Market anyway.” “Hm. Something is... off.” Qing furrowed her brow slightly. Why did she feel a slight sense of foreboding? What was causing this unsettling feeling? The atmosphere seemed unusually lively. Isn’t this just a night market? The Black Market she had visited before was tense, clad with an air of distrust between customers and merchants alike, a silence cloaked in peculiar tension. But the Shadow Market? “Come, poppy seeds for sale, pure nine-tenth purity, unadulterated poppy seeds!” “Fresh contraband just arrived! Ladies over there, come have a look. We've got some fine jewelry in stock too.” “Helmet flowers, fly agaric, and thorn-apples—come see the infamous poisonous herbs of the Yunnan forests!” Tang Nanah’s ears perked up as she tugged on Qing’s elbow. “Oh, Qing, let’s check out the poisonous herbs. The ones from the Yunnan forests are famously potent, you know?” “Nana, we didn’t come here for leisure, although... should we take a quick look?” Qing switched her train of thought mid-sentence. Upon reflection, perhaps it did feel like a leisure trip. To her, slaughter was a form of play, so it might be only fair to let her companions have their enjoyable moments too. Reluctantly, Qing let herself be dragged along. Standing proudly in front of the poisonous herb stall, Tang Nanah pointed out specific plants with her finger. “Hey, where are these from? When were they picked? They look quite authentic.” “Haha, you have a keen eye, miss. These here are from the Dali Mountains, these from Ailao Mountains, and those from Wenshan.” “What? I thought these were jungle poisons?” “There are indeed smaller jungles near the water’s edge there. They certainly have a unique potency. Hmm, how can I explain this… asking you to taste them isn’t an option.” “Hm, they do seem in good condition. Uh, um, Summer, have a look. Which one seems good?” Even when asked her opinion. To Qing, they all looked like dried grass. “Oh come on, they’re completely different! Here, see? This one has sharp thorns along its stem, this one’s tip is slightly pointed, and this one, which grew in a swamp, feels quite moist.” “Eh, they all look the same to me.” “They’re different! Just look closely. See the spacing of the leaf veins…” Whether the leaf veins were orderly or scattered, poisonous herbs were poisonous herbs, and despite the explanation, they still looked identical at a glance. “This one, the customer is very discerning. Hmm. Are you perhaps interested in the jungle herbs of Yulak?” “What? Really? The herbs there are said to be a specialty of the Odok Gate-” “Shhh. That’s why I’m only showing these to discerning customers like yourself.” “Hm? Are you sure? How can I trust you?” “If I were to lie about their origin, I wouldn’t be able to do business in the Shadow Market. If expelled, where would a decent poison herb merchant like myself sell?” Can “decent” even fit in front of a poison herb merchant? More than that, though... Expelled for lying about origin? Wasn’t the original Black Market a place where the deceived were at fault, a den favoring merchants, akin to what in her hometown were called "Yongpali" or "Chapali"? In the meantime, the poison herb merchant brought out a bundle from the tent, unrolled it to reveal herbs similar to those on display. Nana, looking somewhat skeptical, plucked a leaf and tasted it, exclaiming excitedly, “Wow, it's real!” Her eyes sparkled with newfound excitement. She bought the whole bundle, naturally thrusting it onto Zhuge Leehyun’s pack with a satisfied grin. Something about this... The surroundings were bustling, more like a lively, veiled night market. “Fascinating, sister. This place is well-organized. Do you see the skewer vendor over there?” “Mm, I’ve been watching. But... wasn’t it Zhuge who mentioned not to eat anything from the Black Market?” “You never know what kind of meat it is. But, look at this, the skewers here have the type of meat labeled. Not even city markets do that! Although we can’t guarantee the label matches the meat.” After all, the infamous skewers of the Black Market, labeled as beef, could be anything from sewer rats to well-cleaned rotten meat, or at worst, even human flesh. Holding back the regret. This hunger, I shall sate with blood. Those traffickers are dead. I’ll carve them into beautiful star shapes and split them into seventeen pieces. Suppressing her zeal for slaughter, Qing moved forward, convinced today would be a day of reckoning for these traffickers. “Wow, Eomae, look at this. Isn’t it pretty? How about this for our niece? What do you think?” “Oh, oh.” “Do you like it? Hmm, is this gold...?” “Hehe, afraid not, it’s pyrite. Still, if you clean it with a fine cloth after each outing, it can shine like gold.” “I’ll take this one.” “This one? Is this what our niece likes? How much is it?” “Customer, that’s a burial item, you know?” “Burial item?” “It’s from a grave. A child’s grave.” “Ugh, no... Niece, we can’t have that.” “Hmmph.” Qing tilted her head in confusion. Isn’t there an oddly conscientious atmosphere here? Of course, truly ethical merchants wouldn’t deal in contraband or grave goods. Perhaps because of this, the market had a rather pleasant vibe. Although faces were masked, there was no intent to hide conversations, and the footsteps of customers were lively. Hm. Not quite the atmosphere for drawing swords... And so, pausing here and there to glance around, they finally reached the tent of the distributor whom the Peaceful One had contracted with, a merchant. In front of the tent, a figure stood, arms crossed—a man with a long scar adorning his eye, staring idly as he sat. I’ve felt it before, but do human traffickers get bonus points for having a vile look during interviews? Why do they all look like this? Is it that repulsive-looking people become traffickers, or is it why they say physiognomy is a science? While Qing deliberated for a moment, the man shook his head and spoke up. "One silver coin." "Hmm?" "Your back is hunched, and though there's some heft to you, you lack any muscle. Where could I even sell such a weakling? So, one silver coin. It would be the same anywhere you go, maybe even generous at that." As expected of a human trafficker, he mistook the bound Peaceful One as a product Qing was here to sell. "Hey, ahem. It's me..." "A familiar voice, hm? You're... Peaceful One? No way, the Peaceful One, damn—" Startled, the man leapt up, the chair crashing to the ground behind him. Good, this reaction is promising. Now, to wait for his minions to arrive, engage them in a sword dance, and extract the truth about where they spirited the people away—perfect plan. Just as Qing's lips started to curl upwards in anticipation, the man abruptly dropped to his knees. "I swear, all the goods that scoundrel brought were sent to Gaeguheon at the Zhengjia Manor! We didn't lay a finger on them! I swear it!" His loud, unsolicited confession followed immediately, offering information before questions were even asked.