Chapter 37: The Black-Haired Storyteller’s Strategy (1)

Chapter 37: The Black-Haired Storyteller’s Strategy (1)

The funeral of Im Gapsu, the head of the Gapsu Trading Company, took place.

Oh dear!

What a tragedy to happen on his sixtieth birthday!

What will become of the Gapsu Trading Company now?

The guests who had gathered for the sixtieth birthday celebration quickly turned into mourners. Notables from Chilgok County and martial artists, who had left the previous evening, returned to pay their respects.

Of course, I was among those who came to mourn.

Good day.

I approached the servant who had invited me to the company.

Eh? Arent you the Storyteller? If youre hungry, theres food over there. Its busy here.

The servant pointed to a corner, indicating where to go, his manner implying he didnt have time to attend to me.

Hey, did he think I came just to eat?

Although I did come to eat as well.

Sorry to bother you during your busy time. I see other mourners are burning paper money, but I wish to burn this. Would that be acceptable?

At Chinese funerals, it was common for mourners to burn paper money as a tribute to the deceased. It was akin to placing incense at Korean funerals.

Eh? What is that?

Its a condolence letter (), a traditional Korean mourning letter. I understand that here, burning a lot of paper money is seen as a sign of respect for the deceased in the afterlife. In Korea, we also burn letters that commemorate the deceaseds virtues to send them to the afterlife. I owe a great debt to the late head of the trading company, so I felt compelled to do this.

Huh, such a custom in Korea? Its a barbarian custom, but the intention seems very noble.

The servant appeared touched. In reality, there was no such custom. I had invented it as part of my plan to survive.

Then, Ill take that as permission and proceed to burn it with the rest.

Just a moment.

Yes?

May I read it first? If it contains anything inappropriate, it shouldnt be burned.

This was inconvenient. Since he was in charge of the funeral, I had no choice but to hand it over.

Im Gapsus virtues are as high as the Baekdu Mountain, always a model of diligence in Chilgok County, always leading by example in generosity. Im Gapsu was like a father to Chilgok County. Oh, you respected the trading company head this much.

No, I couldnt have respected a man who died in bed with two women that much.

The servant looked at me, his mouth agape in astonishment.

My poor writing skills cant fully express Im Gapsus virtues.

I sighed as if deeply saddened, my hand on my chest.

Not at all, not at all. Just wait a moment.

The servant took my condolence letter and disappeared somewhere.

Why was he so worried? Surely, he was not going to show it around for criticism? Suddenly, a sad memory came to mind.

Here! This man.

The servant returned with a man in mourning clothes. I recognized him from somewhere. He was the man who had been next to the trading company head during the Prince Hamulin performance.

Greetings. I am Im Jiwook, the chief mourner.

Im Gapsus son.

I offer my deepest condolences. I am Kang Yunho, the Storyteller.

When acting as a Storyteller, I used Kang Mo (Kang Someone), but not in personal introductions. I greeted the chief mourner respectfully.

A young man who knows respect. I wanted to meet you after hearing you wrote a touching message for my fathers journey.

I am saddened that I can only express my gratitude to the late head with this letter.

I pretended to be as sorrowful as if I had lost my own parents. It was hard to eat and greet with so many mourners, even getting to meet the chief mourner himself.

Though its sad about my fathers passing, Im fortunate to have so many people expressing their condolences. Even a street storyteller is mourning my father. Dont be too sad, I will make sure to find the culprit.

Good luck with that. She was not an easy opponent.New novel chapters are published on

The Gapsu Trading Companys forces, or even the Nine Sects and One Union, would only end up as a pool of blood if they tried to avenge him.

My wife

I listened to the voices of people while sipping moderately on my drink, and before I knew it, it was time for everyone to leave.

Feeling pleasantly tipsy, I looked around. Has she arrived? Or was she still outside?

There she was.

The buzz from the alcohol disappeared instantly. She wore a hat, but it was unmistakably her.

Didnt she know youre supposed to take off your hat indoors? Why was she standing in front of an ATM wearing sunglasses and a mask, as if she was about to withdraw money? It was like shes openly declaring, I am suspicious.

She seemed to be employing some special martial art, appearing masculine, but a strand of black hair escaped her hat. Such a conspicuous strand of black hair in these circumstances. It was too obvious who she was.

Couldnt she move a bit more slowly? She seemed in a rush.

I had planned to head upstairs when the night deepened, but it looked like I had to change my plan.

Oh, Im too drunk, I mumbled.

Pretending to be excessively intoxicated, I stood up and began to stagger. I needed to act as drunk as I possibly could. Weaving between the tables with a zigzag step, I struggled up the stairs holding onto the railing and entered the guest room.

She would be here soon, right?

I shouldnt be awake. Yet, I also couldnt lie down in bed. I sat on a chair at the desk in the guest room and took out a book I had written for my survival.

Please help me. Save me again this time.

I tried to fall asleep, clutching my pounding heart.

A woman disguised as a man watched intently as a man, seemingly inebriated, made his way to his guest room.

Cheon Sohee of the Heavenly Death Star.

The past few days had filled her with doubts and suspicions.

Who is he?

Salmaeks No. 5 Assassin. First-class assassin. Heavenly Death Star. There were several names by which to call her, but the name Cheon Sohee was known only to her in the Central Plains.

An ordinary storyteller.

The information gleaned from the Salmaek was sparse.

A storyteller had appeared in Chilgok County one day, with no known history. He didnt have the air of a martial artist, making it highly probable that he had no ties to the Salmaek.

Black hair. Korean.

It had been ages since she had seen someone with the same black hair as hers in this land. Could he be Korean and know her name?

No, that was impossible. There couldnt be anyone in Korea who knew her name. So, who was this man?

The more Cheon Sohee dwelled on it, the deeper she felt trapped in a labyrinth. She didnt wish to ruminate on it any longer. After some time had elapsed since the man vanished, she slowly made her way up to the guest room.

Cheon Sohee surveyed her surroundings to ensure privacy before swiftly unlocking the guest room door.

Creak. The ancient door groaned, a reminder that she had neglected to check its condition.

Such oversight was not characteristic of a top-tier assassin. Yet, Cheon Sohee didnt regard her negligence with gravity.

Her master had often rebuked her for not yet reaching the pinnacle of assassination, but Cheon Sohee shrugged off the criticism. If she could eliminate targets and evade capture, why bother with stealth?

She had felled those whom even elite assassins could not. A minor slip in stealth was inconsequential.

Is he asleep?

Could he be in a drunken stupor? The man lay slumped over the desk, fast asleep. Should she rouse him to demand his identity?

She was certain she could extract information about his distant kin through torture if necessary. Cheon Sohee wavered for an instant.

Lets wake him up. Why hesitate over such a matter?

Cheon Sohee advanced to jostle the mans shoulder.

Just then,

A book caught Cheon Sohees attention.

[Diary]

A diary lay next to the mans head.

She didnt know the mans identity. She might have had to torture him. But he was someone who knew her name. Should she torture such a person right away? A moment of hesitation brushed past Cheon Sohee.

Lets look at the diary.

Cheon Sohee didnt keep a diary. However, information gathering was one of an assassins virtues. She had infiltrated the house of an assassination target and found the optimal place for the assassination through the diary.