811 - I Am This Murim’s Crazy B*tch

Qing felt as if she'd been struck hard by an invisible force. In technical terms, it was a tactical maneuver: the act of voluntary tax confession, a testimony that bypassed the middle ground, executed with the keen insight of someone fulfilling their duty. It was truly a painful blow to Qing, who hadn't even unsheathed her sword yet. But. Seeing the sinister deeds of the human trafficker, Qing steeled her resolve. Retreat wasn't an option. Today, she vowed to tread the ruthless path of the heretical ways for the sake of justice and for the gratifying sensation of slicing through evil. With a swish, the Moonlight Sword was drawn with a chilly sound. She'd gathered the necessary information, and with a sin score over a hundred, it was time to enjoy—no, to deal with this villain and then think about it later. "Come, confess your sins! Pay for your crimes with your life!" "Wait, what are you talking about? What sins have I committed? This is a misunderstanding!" "What? Did you not just confess your sins with your own mouth? How could one person buy and sell another? Only people like you engage in such acts! It is unforgivable!" "You misunderstand! We're nothing like those human dregs! It's all a misunderstanding!" "Ah, now you claim it's a misunderstanding? Are you trying to mock me? Additional charges for contempt, death penalty!" "Wait! We're not like that! We are merely benevolent philanthropists!" "Um...?" Qing hesitated, her impulse to stab paused. "Benevolent?" "That's right. We simply offer a second chance to those who have already crumbled in society due to great failures. We arrange jobs for those who have failed, collecting a nominal fee for our efforts, acting as intermediaries for personal recovery." "What is this nonsense now?" "True benevolence lies in human effort, yet the success or failure lies with the heavens alone. Isn't it too cruel to leave those who have failed to rot on the streets? What if they need significant money for an unavoidable trial? Should those without wealth just give up and die? However, as long as one is physically capable, what can't they achieve? We support such people." "Aren't you just luring desperate people to sell them as slaves?" "Slaves? It's a full-time contract." The man spoke with surprising eloquence, despite his tangled hair and a conspicuous scar by his eye. Qing’s mind went blank. You shouldn't judge people by their appearance, but what? What on earth? Suddenly, a whistle broke the silence. Beep beep! "What’s all the commotion there?" Soon, a group of warriors, each wielding a six-foot staff, came rushing in from all directions. Qing stood with her sword drawn, watching as one approached through the ring of warriors surrounding her. At that moment, a sinister thought flickered in Qing’s mind. Wasn't there a warning about causing a disturbance in the Blackmarket and being attacked by its Blackspot warriors? But if they attacked first? Martial arts are primarily for self-defense, isn't it only natural to protect oneself? Surely they would threaten her with haughty demands, asking whether she'd like to die for causing trouble. If she showed a slightly intimidated demeanor and retreated, they would grow even more arrogant, demanding some form of compensation or a limb, spewing all sorts of demeaning comments. Then, without further words, wouldn’t martial artists speak with their swords? At the moment Qing swallowed the thought, the Blackspot warrior gave her a respectful nod. "Apologies, esteemed guest. Is there a dispute with a member of our Blackspot? If there’s an issue, could you please explain?" "What? What’s going on? Why are you treating me like this?" Qing shouted, taken aback by the warrior’s polite demeanor. Instead, the warrior cast a stern glance at the trafficker, lowering his voice intimidatingly. "Hey, Mr. Jang, what’s going on here? Why is the guest so upset?" "It's, it's not that. It seems there's some misunderstanding due to inquiries about the whereabouts of our client, and perhaps they have a grudge against trafficking..." "Ah, I see. Esteemed guest, we at the Blackspot strictly prohibit any transactions involving coercion. Could you tell us what part made you uncomfortable?" "But, trafficking, people making a living on human trafficking, that shouldn’t be—" Qing’s resentful voice was abruptly silenced by a hand resting on her shoulder. Turning her head, she saw Peng Daesan’s bamboo hat swaying side to side. "Stop it. There's, um, a reason." "What? Why!? Did I do something wrong? Is wanting to cut down these bad guys so wrong?" "Miss, it’s just..." Even Zhuge Leehyun shook his head as Qing looked at them one by one. Even Tang Nanah seemed oddly out of sync with the direction of the conversation, their gaze not quite meeting her. Of course, the others, like Seo Lily, Gyeon Poo Hee, and the like, appeared expressionless. "Esteemed guest. Please calm down first. How about a cup of tea? We’ll investigate the issue you mentioned on behalf of the Blackspot." ---- Inside the Blackspot’s reception room, it was aptly referred to as such for welcoming guests. On the table were tea and an array of rather delectable honey-glazed pastries, gleaming enticingly. Normally, Qing would have vented her frustration by devouring them in anger, chewing them as if they were the flesh of her enemies. But this was the Blackmarket, who knew what was in them... Thus, Qing simmered in unresolved resentment, grimacing. Seriously, why is this happening to me? Did I ask for much? I only wanted to readily slice through those who deserved it, those whose deaths would better the world. Z3ZuaWdja0dkNXJtU283eC8xWlNuVGRuUEVTajFINkZIV1RySm95WjJUZDJsNklnL0JDV29SQks4emxlbExPUQ How can the heavens be so indifferent to treat me this way? With the number of villains I've already cast into hell, instead of receiving some recognition, I'm being painted as something strange... It was in that moment. A middle-aged man with fat clinging to his face in patches and a notably sharp expression entered the tent. He was the very image of an unscrupulous merchant, someone anyone could instantly identify as a greedy villain without needing a fortune teller. Qing's eyes flickered with a hint of liveliness. Oh, perhaps? "Ah, excuse my rudeness. Ahem. Does the tea not suit your taste? It might not be premium, but it's Yunnan Pu-erh. I am Changgung, the owner of this establishment, Black Mark." Hmm, overly polite again. Qing's shoulders drooped slightly. "It seems you had an issue with the intermediary, Mr. Jang, but from what we have examined, it doesn't appear to be a problem." Qing's eyes once again sparked. What do you mean, there's no problem? You hired snake oil salesmen to entice desperate patients' families into selling their bodies, and it's not just once or twice—where did all those people end up, and for what purpose? As Qing pressed the issue, Changgung shook his head. "Ahem. I understand your concerns, but was there any coercion involved in enticing the patients' families, such as threats through force?" Suggesting that they threatened people with swords to buy medicine, telling them to sell their bodies if they couldn't afford it. Well, that wasn't the case. "Of course, it's true that the group supplying the medicine is suspicious. But buying a product and paying its price is not a problem, is it?" "But by pricing the medicine at ten gold pieces, how many patients could afford that? Basically, they're just telling them to sell their bodies." "However, didn't they choose to buy it because they needed it at that price? Perhaps the ingredients required for the medicine are expensive, or maybe the preparation process is arduous, or perhaps it requires a lot of manpower, warranting such a payment." "......" "And the intermediary for manpower at our establishment is not a trafficker. They simply introduce job opportunities for a small fee. In the case of Dr. Tae, it's said that they've already agreed with the Jeong family to use all the labor that Dr. Tae recruits. So it was said that Mr. Jang was merely mediating by transferring the workers Dr. Tae brought over." "Wait, those Jeong family guys, what do they use all those people for? Isn't it obviously suspicious?" "They might be workers for a new tea plantation, but you know how labor-intensive tea plantation work is. Have you ever seen a tea plantation? The hills are covered only with tea bushes up to your waist without any shade, so to clear the lush mountain forests and establish a tea garden is certainly not something a person can undertake alone." "Hmm." The mention of clearing a mountain brings to mind the horrific construction commonly known as a fire break zone. Such projects can't be undertaken by anyone other than slaves. I mean, forcing people into such construction jobs through human trafficking? These are truly heinous criminals. "But even so, what merchant would concern themselves with what their client's business is? Would a butcher comment on what meals a customer would prepare with their meat, asking who they plan to feed?" His words were smooth. But who was Qing? Recognized as the articulate threat of the Sichuan Tang Clan, unrivaled in rhetorical battles, a terror with words. Engaging in a verbal duel was no trouble for her. While walking here, she noticed there were poisons for sale, drugs, stolen goods, and numerous vagabonds selling their swords, all indicative of nefarious intentions with such transactions. Claiming not to inquire about the customer's motives based on business ethics sounded like nothing more than an irresponsible excuse. If someone buys masks, swords, and corpse-dissolving Fire Mountain Acid, their intentions are usually evident. Even if they claim they simply sold it because the customer wanted it, without meddling, they are complicit in a broader sense. Yet Qing just sighed deeply. So, does that amount to a crime worthy of death? No, it doesn't seem like it... Then, why expend energy when there's no need for bloodshed? So, instead of pointing out these issues, Qing decided to address her grievances. "That aside, I was told the people were sent to the Jeong family at Gaegu-hyeon. Can that be trusted? Should a merchant disclose customer information so freely?" If that trafficker was trying to cover up, they could have resorted to violence, yet he voluntarily confesses without being prompted. "My perception is that the art of trade dictates that failure to adhere to principles can ruin even a prosperous business overnight. That's how Blackmarket fell. A merchant who lost the trust of customers faced hardship without anyone helping, and instead people spat at their downfall and rejoiced at their ruin." "Huh. The Blackmarket collapsed?" "It's no surprise. Many bore grudges against Blackspot. The market was plagued with fakes, coercive sales, threats. Was it a market or a gathering of bandits? This presented an opportunity for small merchants like me. An underground market is inevitable, so it's more convenient to have them gathered in one place. That's what the higher-ups think." However, to avoid Blackmarket's fate, differentiation was attempted through thorough quality control and preferential treatment for customers. Thus began Black Mark. "And how does that relate to disclosing customer information? If you are offering preferential treatment, shouldn't you keep such details confidential?" "If information is sought, it implies that a significant issue arose from Black Mark's transactions. We cannot take responsibility for customer’s faults. Given your confidence with the sword, you must be a highly skilled martial artist, yes? How could mere clandestine merchants contend with you?" "Hmm." "So isn't it better to disclose promptly? Once it's known that we reveal everything, questionable customers won't attempt to use Black Mark in the first place, effectively preemptively blocking unsavory clientele." The survival strategy of the powerless. Shifting responsibility onto others as much as possible. And since confidentiality essentially doesn't exist from the start, those with shady pasts won't attempt to use it. Of course, maintaining such confidentiality usually comes at a high price, so those with shady dealings tend to spend extravagantly, being significant clients. Abandoning that to prioritize safety was the choice they made. Hmm, perhaps it's rather clever. Though he doesn't look the part, it's impressive he came up with such an idea... Of course, it wasn't the original idea of the Black Mark owner. What Qing didn't know was that they had merely copied the methods of a group called Baekjeom, which had recently been dominating the clandestine market. The Baekjeom group, which could be seen as the mother company in the yin-yang of Zhongyuan's southern territory, hadn't extended significant influence into this area, leading to a trend of such Baekjeom-like imitations in the region. But what does Qing know of these revolutionary, customer-friendly underground market dynamics? Rather than that... "Haa..." Qing sighed deeply. What kind of elaborate conspiracy could be devised by people who divulge so much information so freely? Perhaps, as the Black Mark owner said, they really needed slaves for the tea plantations. Or, even if there was any kind of plot, they wouldn't choose a method where the evidence surfaces so easily. My slaughter... Our wish is slaughter, even in dreams, it's slaughter, saving one by means of slaughter, yet it's such a challenge to cut down even a few villains. Why is it so difficult for a virtuous and elegant Heavenly Slaughter Star like me to simply live? This is truly too much... Ultimately, since she needs the prescription, she’ll have to check it out, but... this really takes the wind out of my sails. Qing's shoulders drooped.