Book 20 Chapter 7

Where do you think the skyscraper is?

-I don't know, sir

Another institution twinned with the Baekdo Academy of Heaven and Earth, the Machengak. Its whereabouts are surprisingly shrouded in a fog of obscurity for such a famous institution, which one would think that everyone would know, but when you try to find out, it disappears behind a fog of obscurity.

"Where do you think the Great Hall is?

If you were to stop a passerby and ask them this question, ten times out of ten they would say that there is a huge black citadel hidden deep in the mountains of Changshan. But that's only because I don't understand the physiology of the Black Island. It's easy to see how this answer, while plausible, is a product of mental conditioning that is far removed from reality.

The Black Swords seek to profit from violence. To do so, they need targets, and in the remote lands of Changeling, it's not uncommon to see signs of human life. While the prestigious White Order, which has no outward interest in profit and is land-rich enough to rent farmland or hire peasants to ensure legitimate high profits, may be able to survive on grass and chewing tobacco deep in the mountains and near clear water, the Black Order, whose main source of income is illegal business, can never do so. They seek power and gold rather than noble minds and knowledge, which is why they naturally prefer to be in the center of bustling cities, where they have the best chance of making the most money, rather than in deep mountain valleys.

In the world of night, the battle for position is always fierce and bloody. But the best seats, the ones that bring in the money, the so-called pitchforks, symbolize the power of the defense, and no one gives them up easily. Whenever they do, they usually-perhaps always-put their cover story to the forefront. This explains why a surprising number of Black Daoists are involved in commerce. Lodging, liquor, jockeying, and the oldest profession of all, prostitution. It's safe to say there's hardly an industry they don't touch.

Therefore, it would not be wrong for a pavilion dedicated to teaching the descendants of the Black Sword to be located in Dongzheng Lake, a place with a very mobile population, a high reputation as a tourist destination, always bustling with activity, and a key point for waterway transportation. The spirit came to this place with the two maids of honor not for the sake of tourism, but because of the presence of the Temple of Heaven, but as soon as he arrived, he encountered a problem.

"Yes, what?"

"I said I don't know, sir."

"No, I don't know, how can you not know something that big?"

"But I don't know the name of the Temple of Heaven, so if you don't know what you don't know, what's the point?"

"Nonsense……."

Mongmu's mouth dropped open. This wasn't the first time he'd been fooled!

"I don't know."

"I don't know."

"Well, was there such a place?"

"Never heard of the show!"

Whenever I've asked for the location of the Great Hall, the answers have generally fallen into these four categories.

"That's weird, lady. Why doesn't anyone know about it? It's a very famous place, isn't it?"

Mongmu, who had been silent for a while, returned and tilted his head in disbelief.

"It's weird, yes, but maybe it's not weird at all if you look at it differently."

"Differently? How?"

Mongmu asked again, not sure what that meant.

"They don't really know. They're just hiding it… like this."

"In other words, you know what you're doing and you're not doing it!"

"Yes. Wasn't that the choice of those who were not part of the Murim but were influenced by it?"

The spirit was kind enough to elaborate on his guess.

"So you're saying they've been lying to us all along?"

Mongmu shouted in an angry voice.

"Whoops……."

There were many eyes on the street, so the spirit quickly clamped his hand over the maid's mouth.

"Why are you screaming, you startled me."

"I'm ashamed to say that I have the same motive, miss, and I'll sew his mouth shut right now, if you like."

Huanmu said, as if it were pathetic.

"Boo boo boo!"

Mongmu protested.

"What are you getting upset about? That must be the rules. Invisible rules that exist outside the law, sometimes above it. An unwritten rule that must be enforced by force. We, the outsiders, can't play around with them. Besides, we may not even know where they are."

"That's another thing you don't understand, ma'am."

As soon as the spirit released his hand, Mongmu pouted and said.

"That's because you're too stupid to understand. Over."

Fang Mu's harsh words came from the side. Meng Mu cried out in exasperation.

"What, you mean you understand?"

"Of course. You're saying that you can control the mouths of these commoners by proxy without having to go out and do it yourself. Over."

"Something like that."

The spirit agreed with Feng Mu's interpretation.

"Ha, but it's one of the largest organizations on the Black Island, and if you count the students, there must be over a thousand people living there, so how do you hide something that big?"

Suddenly left in the position of fool, Mongmu seemed to want to get out of it somehow.

"Have you forgotten where you are?"

"Jung-ho Dong."

In a raspy voice, Mongmu replied.

"So what's Dong Jung Ho like?"

"It's a lot of water, and it's damn wide. On the subject of lakes, this is probably the only place you can see the horizon."

"Yeah, it's a big, big place. You might as well have moved the ocean."

"So what you're saying is……."

It was like he was finally getting the hang of it.

"Indeed. If you're looking to make a sneaky base, I'd be hard pressed to find a more favorable place than here, and if it's nesting somewhere in that big lake, it's long past time to invade it, unless you have wings like a waterfowl or fins like a fish."

"So what are we supposed to do, swim or something?"

"If drowning is your dream, so be it, but let's wait a little longer. I don't want to be the fish's lunch just yet. We need to find a place to stay first."

"Do you want me to go find out now?"

"Nope. I saw a place on the way called the Illusionist's Cup. Let's go there first, undress, and do a little yogi stuff."

"Wow, it's rice."

Mongmu, the market vendor, raised his hands in welcome. He had apparently tossed all the berating he had received earlier into his dreams.

"Mongmu, fumbling!"

Huanmu shot back.

"Namisa!"

Mongmu said, sticking out his tongue.

"Come on, let's stop arguing and get going, you're going to leave me in the dark."

The spirit stopped the two maids from arguing like wildfire. It was a familiar sight now, having seen it so many times on the way here.

"Yes, ma'am."

The two men stopped arguing and answered in unison.