Murim Troubleshooter Dan Mujin

Chapter 27: Debt Collection

A quiet afternoon.

Ilhong and I stopped in front of a shabby building nestled in the bustling district.

A signboard on which "Beijing Wanderers' Guild" was scrawled in stylish calligraphy.

Each stroke bore the firm strength of a brush that knew no hesitation—it was clear the calligrapher had written it with utmost sincerity.

The door creaked open slowly.

Contrary to its worn exterior, the interior was bustling with a variety of people.

Clients who had come to request something, and wanderers swarming like crows to pick up those commissions.

The sharp scent of alcohol and the metallic stench from dozens of blades vibrated in the air.

“There are a lot of wanderers here in the Beijing Branch with the Eul-class tokens.”

Ilhong, who had once again disguised herself as a man using the Human-skin Mask to step outside, commented while glancing around the interior of the Wanderers' Guild building.

The eyes and ears of the Hao Sect were said to be everywhere.

“Eul-class token?”

“Yes, wanderers are graded by the Gabo-Eul-Byeong-Jeong (甲乙丙丁) tokens they carry.”

The Gabo and Eul tokens were made of gold and silver, making them easy to distinguish. Byeong was iron, and Jeong was made of wood.

Indeed, a walking encyclopedia of Murim.

“Boss, I think that person’s the Chairman.”

Ilhong nudged at the air. Following the direction of her finger, I saw a middle-aged man with streaks of gray in his hair and a long scar across his face.

A large blade hung at his waist. He had the air of a veteran who had weathered many battles. He was likely a retired wanderer. Surely, he had made a name for himself in the past.

He probably used that money to establish a large building like this.

“I wonder if I’ll ever be able to set up an office like this someday.”

I wanted to hang a huge sign reading “Dan Mujin Troubleshooter” right in the middle of Beijing.

An office teeming with clients coming through the doors.

“Well, shouldn’t you build up a reputation first? Even if you set one up, it’s pointless if no customers come.”

Ilhong gave a weighty, realistic piece of advice from beside me.

She wasn’t wrong. I had to be skilled and well-known enough as a troubleshooter for clients to seek me out themselves.

“Any way to get famous quickly...?”

“If you take down a wanted criminal with an alias or a notorious Demonic Practitioner, that should do the trick. Enthusiasts go crazy over the emergence of a new expert.”

Right, that was the nature of Murim. The fame of the fallen becomes the fame of the one who brings them down.

Even back in school, when someone took down the top dog, rumors would spread like wildfire across every class.

“Well, what’s this blood-faced kid doing here?”

A middle-aged man muttered, his scar twitching, as he noticed us approaching.

At his words, the surrounding wanderers who had been chatting among themselves also turned their attention to us, intrigued by the sight of unfamiliar boys (?).

“What are these brats supposed to be?”

“They sure look pretty. Pissing me off.”

“Here to make a request or something? Our services ain’t cheap, so don’t waste our time. Just leave.”

Thuggish men spat insults with swaggering attitudes.

Ilhong, perhaps a bit intimidated, subtly hid behind my back.

Without a word, I pulled out the Eunseong Token that Eun Hwaran had given me and held it up in front of them.

“What the hell is that?”

The rookies tilted their heads in confusion, but those with higher ranks and literacy narrowed their eyes.

“That’s... the Eunseong Token, isn’t it?”

“Looks like they were sent by the Eunseong Trading Company.”

The Eunseong Trading Company had escort agencies under its wing and often hired numerous wanderers for escort trips, making it a highly desirable employer.

In other words, to wanderers, they were a patron to be favored.

“Ahem.”

“Pardon us.”

The wanderers who had gathered around shut their mouths and dispersed on their own.

And then the Chairman of the Beijing Branch approached, speaking as if he found the situation amusing.

“I heard from Trading Lord Eun Hwaran. Said a talented kid was coming. I hear you took down the Heaven-Violating Yin Fiend?”

When the name of the Heaven-Violating Yin Fiend, who had recently fallen, was mentioned, several wanderers looked at me with surprise.

Though only Second Rate, he had been a Black Path leader known for wielding his blade like a venomous snake.

“I’m Gam Un. Back in the day, I went by the alias ‘Giant-Slaying Blade.’ Since you seem close with the Trading Lord, feel free to call me Elder Gam.”

The middle-aged man introduced himself as Gam Un and extended a hand full of calluses.

“Dan Mujin, Elder Gam.”

But when I took his hand, an overwhelming strength clamped down on mine.

Tendons bulged from our joined hands. It was a handshake that made my wrist throb on its own.

When I endured it without so much as flinching, Gam Un pulled his hand back with a look of approval.

“I’m Ilhong.”

From behind my back, she poked out her face and introduced herself.

Gam Un dusted off his deeply calloused hand and looked at me.

“So, you want to have your name entered in the Wanderers' Guild registry?”

He pulled out a Jeong-class wooden token from his inner coat, as if he had it ready in advance, and gave it a shake.

“Yes. It suits me, and it’s something I need to do.”

Hwang Geolgae once said that I was the standard for determining virtuous karma.

And I’m the kind of biased person who generally believes that the one paying is usually in the right.

Therefore, I needed this triple-threat job that allowed me to earn money, cultivate my internal energy, and weaken the Evil Star.

“Since it’s the Trading Lord’s request, I can put your name on the list. However, not every wanderer gets to receive commissions just by being registered.”

The number of wanderers was high, but the commissions were limited.

Gam Un pointed with his chin at the nearby wanderers who sat around drinking idly without any work.

He added that what Eun Hwaran had asked was only to get my name on the registry. Commission work fell under his authority, and he couldn’t hand it out lightly.

“Because it’s my credibility on the line. Imagine one of the wanderers I vouched for completely bungling the job. What client would trust me again with their requests?”

“Well... they’d look elsewhere, obviously.”

I had a rough idea of what he was getting at.

For a troubleshooter, credibility was critical.

The tasks we received were often sensitive and important. A single bad rumor, and your jobs would vanish overnight.

“Therefore, I need to verify whether you’re actually cut out for being a wanderer.”

With those words, Gam Un tossed a rolled-up paper in front of me.

“What’s this?”

When I unrolled it, a flurry of complicated terms overwhelmed my vision.

Details about who borrowed money from whom, how much, the interest rate, and the due date—it was all there.

“It’s a promissory note. There’s a scumbag who borrowed money and is pretending he never did. Go get the money back.”

The borrowed amount was twenty gold nyang. A significant sum not only for a beggar but even for a businessperson.

The lender was a bookseller in Beijing, and the borrower was a nearby merchant who had yet to repay even a single coin of interest, let alone the principal.

And this, despite his business thriving at the moment.

“Where do I go to collect it?”

“You know the merchant named Jang Geon who runs a fabric shop near the South Gate?”

“A fabric shop near the South Gate... You mean old man Jang?”

The first thing that came to mind was a wrinkled face full of greed.

A wretched old man who would chase off any beggar that came near with a club, claiming it would lower his sales.

They said he would swing his club without mercy, even if the opponent was just a little kid.

“They say he’s got a constable relative, so even pleading with a promissory note won’t work. The creditor is in a bind because debt collection is proving extremely difficult.”

It happens sometimes. One of those awful debt cases where the lender panics while the debtor acts shameless and defiant.

Anyone with even a shred of face or righteous duty would at least show a willingness to repay or scrape together even a sliver of interest.

But to not pay a single nyang despite thriving business? That was outright villainy.

“Come on now, Chairman, you’re being ridiculous.”

Wanderers nearby, who had been listening to our conversation, each added their own comments.

“If things get tense, the constables come running instantly, and you can’t even lift a finger.”

“Two wanderers already tried and ended up humiliated and had to withdraw.”

“There’s no way kids like that can pull off a recovery.”

Having failed themselves despite all their experience, they scoffed at the idea that someone like me could succeed, sneering from every direction.

Gam Un raised a hand, silencing everyone.

“I’m not expecting much either.”

He scratched at his scar as he spoke.

In truth, debt collection was rough work—not something you handed to a kid.

“So I won’t ask you to collect the full amount. Whether you bark or grovel, just squeeze out even one coin. If you do that, I’ll acknowledge it and hand this token over.”

He wanted to see the venom and grit I possessed.

In that department, I was reasonably confident.

“Why don’t you take a nap or something. I won’t be long.”

I snatched up the promissory note and declared.

Wanderers around us let out a mix of admiration and laughter at my confident display.

“That brat’s got some nerve.”

“He’ll come back bawling before long.”

“Let’s watch and see what happens.”

Fine, go ahead and watch.

Back in my troubleshooter days, debt recovery like this was a daily task.

I pushed open the door with a familiar creak and stepped back into the street.

“Can we really collect it? He looks like the kind who’d play dead and claim he has no money.”

On the road toward Beijing’s South Gate.

Ilhong, trailing closely behind, spoke with a worried look.

“There’s a saying in the moneylending world.”

“What is it?”

“Squeeze even a dried squid and water comes out.”

Of course, this debtor was less like a dried squid and more like a blowfish with a belly full of water.

“Wow, that line sounded totally villainous.”

“Hey now, the real bad guy is the one who acts different before and after borrowing. What crime did the bookstore owner commit, trusting him?”

It was a difference in mindset.

For most people, repaying a loan comes first, but people like this guy think they’re getting robbed if they have to pay.

“Well, that’s true…”

“And that guy’s loaded. He runs a fabric shop that specializes in silk, right?”

On top of that, for some reason, he was able to sell silk much cheaper than other fabric shops. Business was booming.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Don’t you remember old man Jang Geon, the guy who used to swing a club around?”

“Nope. I was a runaway back then, remember?”

“Oh, right.”

She had been in runaway ninja mode. No wonder our conversation felt off.

“…Wait a minute. Did you say his name is Jang Geon? And he runs a fabric shop and sells silk cheap?”

“That’s right, why?”

Ilhong suddenly stopped in her tracks and fell deep into thought.

Then, as if something hit her, she widened her eyes and slapped my shoulder repeatedly.

“You! You! I remember now!”

“Remember what, you punk?”

“Hao Sect does sericulture in Miryang, right?”

“Yeah.”

I’d heard they profited hugely from tax-free silk not processed through the Imperial Household.

Truly enviable scoundrels.

“The Beijing Branch was also distributing silk to local sellers… and I think I saw the name Jang Geon in one of the ledgers they kept.”

“…What? For real?”

“Yes, really.”

Ilhong nodded with a face full of confidence.

Now that I thought about it, she did say she was undergoing successor training for the Hao Sect to take over the Beijing Branch.

“If that’s true… this could get resolved easily.”

Dealing in silk that hasn’t gone through the Imperial Household was a mid-level felony.

No wonder that greedy old man was selling silk fabric so cheaply without worrying about margins.

To think he had ties with the Hao Sect.

“Maybe we might be able to recover the full amount.”

“Well done. You’re truly my subordinate.”

“Hehe.”

When I gave her a few approving taps on the shoulder, Ilhong grinned sheepishly.

“All right, let’s go gut that blowfish belly.”

Off to revisit an old grudge from my beggar days, now as the creditor’s representative.

My steps began to quicken.

A two-story building constructed of wood and stone.

Near the entrance, bolts of vividly colored cotton and hemp fabric were neatly displayed.

Just as the rumors said, business seemed to be thriving. A fair number of customers were constantly coming and going through the front entrance.

“Should we show the promissory note and ask for someone named Jang Geon to come out?”

Ilhong, spotting the servant stationed at the entrance, said something adorably naive.

“You think he’d actually come out if you called like that?”

A malicious debtor obediently responding to the creditor’s call? Even a stray dog passing by would laugh at that.

“Then what do we do?”

“Make him come out on his own.”

With that, I took a very deep breath.

Air filled my lungs like a taut balloon.

“Jang Geoooon! You son of a bitch old fart, pay your moneeeyyy─!”

My lion’s roar echoed thunderously through the area.

Even the birds perched on the branches flapped and scattered into the sky.

And the shout was so loud and forceful that the customers jumped and fled from the fabric shop in alarm.

“You little shithead!”

With a slam, the front door burst open. Old man Jang appeared, flaring his nostrils in rage.

His face flushed red and blue, clearly furious.

“See that?”

“Wow, that was amazing.”

Beside me, Ilhong offered her highest praise.