Truth be told, there have been a few times when I thought being a bodyguard looked kind of cool.

Wouldn’t a bodyguard who protects a beautiful young lady of high status be even cooler? Like if I ended up guarding the delicate only daughter of the Alliance Leader, someone raised with all the care in the world...

If that someone were me...

One day, the Alliance Leader would grab my shoulder and say:

“I trust only you.”

“Yes, Alliance Leader.”

A bodyguard must reply simply and firmly.

A little heavy, a little stoic.

He faithfully fulfills his mission to protect the late-born only daughter of the Alliance Leader.

Why?

Because, unfortunately, that daughter is a peerless beauty—so naturally, some old demonic cult leader might set his sights on her, or some perverted bastard with the fastest light footwork in the world might try to kidnap her.

What comes next is a little predictable.

The bodyguard falls in love with the peerless beauty—that bodyguard is me.

Then, by chance (but not really), I end up revealing my true strength.

Turns out, that hidden power? It’s just slightly above the Alliance Leader’s.

With that hidden strength, I save the entire Murim Alliance from a desperate crisis and protect the treasured daughter as well.

They call me the pinnacle of bodyguards, the textbook of bodyguards, the ideal of bodyguards.

The Alliance Leader looks at me with eyes full of emotion and says:

“Will you become my son-in-law?”

And I would answer in a low, conflicted voice:

“Alliance Leader, I draw a strict line between public and private matters.”

At this point, the Alliance Leader drops a shocking line.

“What I meant was...”

“Yes?”

“I’m asking you to protect my daughter for the rest of your life.”

“Wow.”

***

I suddenly burst out laughing as we walked, and everyone turned to look at me. Since I couldn’t possibly explain what was so funny, I just gave a vague excuse.

“It was just suddenly funny. If something’s funny, you should laugh.”

As I looked around at the people who were used to me suddenly laughing like a lunatic, I felt a little ridiculous.

Come to think of it, the Alliance Leader wasn’t even married, so there was no chance that kind of scenario could ever happen. But walking for days with four other middle-aged bachelors in similar situations, I guess it was only natural for me to imagine something like that.

I may not have gotten to guard the Alliance Leader’s only daughter.

But still, I did get to guard the Murim Alliance Leader himself, so I guess that counts for something.

And through this duty, I learned something important: we didn’t need to worry about guarding the Alliance Leader at all.

Because the Alliance Leader was just that strong.

Honestly, it felt like Im Sobaek just invited us along for fun.

After all, the five of us could crush almost any faction—sect, group, bandits, pirates, demonic sects, black-path sects, Taoists—you name it.

There’s something I’ve always felt, too.

I’ve yet to see a man who can meet the Sword Demon’s eyes for more than a second. Those who’ve trained even a little in martial arts are terrified of him, and those who haven’t? They’re especially scared of the Drunk.

Whenever we entered an inn or a restaurant, the staff were always particularly respectful to the Drunk.

Thanks to that, we got treated well wherever we went.

Despite all this, Im Sobaek never acted aloof, never lost his temper, and never clammed up. He casually talked to regular people and, without making a big deal of it, mixed in questions like “Is anything troubling you?” or “Has anyone been extorting money from you?”

In other words, Im Sobaek was fulfilling the role of Alliance Leader even on this return trip.

Maybe that’s why?

Even people who didn’t realize he was the Murim Alliance Leader still showed him great respect. Which means dignity doesn’t come from a title, but from one’s character, temperament, and years of discipline.

So yeah—it was a sleepy, uneventful escort mission.

We stayed at inns, and when hungry, we sat down at nameless eateries to eat.

Oddly enough, we never once trained during this whole return journey.

No one drew their sword.

No one sat down cross-legged for meditation.

We didn’t even talk about martial arts.

Since Im Sobaek usually steered the conversation, I realized this was his intention.

All he wanted was to walk with us for a long time.

Eat with us.

Tell dumb jokes.

And occasionally drink his fill.

It wasn’t difficult, so we did as he wished.

After several days of restaurant meals, when we got bored, we pulled the bows strapped to our backs and went hunting. We had already stocked up on seasoning, salt, and booze, so we sat in a clearing, butchered the game, lit a fire, grilled the meat, and drank—there was a certain charm to it.

Above all, Im Sobaek thoroughly enjoyed hunting. At first, we thought it’d just be one meal, then back to the restaurants. But Im Sobaek practically forgot he was the Alliance Leader, stealing our bows and insisting on hunting for every meal.

I had this thought:

Do we really have to eat like this?

Thankfully, he was not only a martial arts master but also an incredible marksman, so the hunts didn’t take long.

At some point, we found ourselves escorting a hunter as we roamed nameless mountains.

Damn it all...

He was having so much fun, we couldn’t even ask him to stop.

But watching how much he enjoyed hunting and roasting meat out in the wild, I started to feel strangely sorry for him.

He’s really enjoying this, huh?

Now that I think about it, this guy probably hasn’t had much rest, vacation, or joy in life.

Turns out, the real reason he asked us to escort him was to take a step away from the Murim Alliance—and his subordinates—for a bit.

He even turned out to be a decent cook. He butchered the wild boar himself, grilled the meat, sprinkled the salt, and served us.

Sitting around a campfire, tearing into meat—we looked more like bandits than martial artists.

As he wiped the grease from his lips, Im Sobaek said:

“...Even wild boar starts getting old.”

The Lecher replied.

“I was already tired of it yesterday.”

Im Sobaek chuckled, then suddenly brought up something out of the blue.

“When I was little, I never really understood why my maternal grandmother helped people so much.”

“...”

“There was someone in the neighborhood with a disability, and she’d often bring them food. Even though we were poor and didn’t have much to eat ourselves, if we made extra rice, she’d call in the local layabouts and feed them. Back then, I thought all grandmothers were like that. As I grew older, I realized other adults weren’t like her. She was upright, positive, strong, and admirable. The people who once ate her food would still visit once a year, once every two years, to pay their respects. Some were merchants, some were laborers from the next village, and one of them turned out to be a martial artist, though I didn’t know it ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) at the time.”

He took a swig of alcohol and continued.

“It took me a long time to realize I’d been shaped by my grandmother. Like the Cult Leader, I used to be hot-tempered and prone to fights—but I never crossed the line. I saw her help the weak and hungry for so long that doing evil never even crossed my mind. She drew a line I could never cross.”

He pointed to the sky with his finger.

“She’s probably watching me from somewhere.”

We all gave a slight nod.

Im Sobaek went on.

“If there’s anyone in the martial world who’s even a little grateful to me, they should really be thanking my grandmother instead. Of course, no one in the world knows that. But I’m fortunate that as the Alliance Leader, I can help people the way she did. One time, when I was bedridden with a bad fever, I thought to myself—my grandmother was the truly strong one. Sometimes, a foul-mouthed grandson who grows up under someone like that gets lucky, changes his ways, and becomes the Murim Alliance Leader. Don’t you think so, Mongrang?”

Suddenly addressed, the Lecher jumped in surprise.

“Ah, yes, Alliance Leader. I think so too.”

The Drunk asked,

“Did that martial artist who ate your grandmother’s food influence your decision to join the Murim Alliance?”

Im Sobaek nodded.

“In the end, yes. At first, I joined because the pay was good. I had to support my poor family...”

And now, that same man stood before us as the Murim Alliance Leader.

Even though he mentioned it so casually, you could tell the road getting there had been a rough one.

The Sword Demon took a sip of liquor and commented.

“...That’s a fascinating story.”

Maybe because he was raised in the Demonic Cult, the eldest seemed genuinely intrigued.

Im Sobaek slowly looked around at us and said,

“Since I’ve invited you all to the Murim Alliance, I thought you should know who I look up to. People assume I most respect the previous Alliance Leader, but no—it’s my grandmother. Was that boring?”

The Lecher answered.

“Not at all.”

“Who do you respect?”

The Lecher hesitated, then said,

“Well, of course, I respect my master and the Alliance Leader.”

“Why?”

“Do I need a reason?”

Im Sobaek didn’t let it go.

“There must be a reason if you respect them. Why?”

“....”

The Lecher was visibly flustered and struggled to speak. But everyone, including Im Sobaek, waited silently until he finally did.

“Well, I mean...”

“...”

“They’re always nagging me to become a better man.”

Im Sobaek repeated his last words.

“Nagging you... I see.”

“They must be frustrated, but they still say it with patience. So, yeah.”

“You’re talking about the Sword Demon, right? I’ve never nagged you.”

“Right.”

Im Sobaek gazed quietly at the Lecher.

“Have you ever thought about why your master has such patience, waiting for you to change?”

“No idea.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to him, and he looked increasingly uncomfortable.

Im Sobaek wasn’t one to hold back.

“I heard the Demonic Cult almost wiped out your maternal clan, the Ice Flower Palace?”

“Yes.”

“Your master probably doesn’t want to see the last of the Ice Flower Palace’s bloodline die pointlessly on the street.”

The Sword Demon said nothing.

Still, Im Sobaek turned to him.

“What were you thinking, putting up with Mongrang’s nonsense? I’m genuinely curious.”

Maybe because the Alliance Leader had been waving his bow around a lot lately, this time, the bow was figuratively pointed at the Sword Demon—who had no room to dodge.

The Sword Demon lifted his head with his usual stoic expression and looked at the Lecher.

“No real reason. He’s my disciple.”

“Yes.”

“Achieve greatness. You have the talent to do so. You just like women more than martial arts, so your heart’s not in it. But your day will come. I don’t know when, though.”

He suddenly turned to me.

“Lately, you haven’t had any time for women either, being dragged around by the Cult Leader, right?”

Can’t argue with that.

The Lecher smiled faintly and joked.

“...Should I wait until I become great to meet women?”

“...!”

All of us whipped our heads around to stare at him. Startled, he added:

“Ah, just a joke. The mood was so heavy, I was trying to lighten it.”

Im Sobaek, in a solemn tone like a judge, declared:

“Do that, then.”

“...Excuse me?”

“That’s a good mindset.”

“...What?”

“Isn’t a man’s word worth its weight in gold? To make such a confident vow before your master and the Alliance Leader—what a meaningful day. Cult Leader and Yukhap, you heard it too, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” the Drunk nodded with dignity.

“I heard it loud and clear. I won’t forget it. Fourth disciple’s resolve is admirable. To wait until greatness before pursuing women... I think our eldest finally feels fulfilled.”

This was just ridiculous. So I drove the nail in with a hammer.

“Congratulations on your decision. That’s the most useful thing you’ve ever said.”

Im Sobaek wasn’t done. He suddenly unsheathed his sword and attacked the Lecher with words.

“There’s a saying that ‘a hero is fond of women,’ but based on your behavior so far, it seems you want to indulge first and become a hero later. You’ve got the order all wrong. No one sees you as a hero. Right now, you’re just a skilled lecher.”

I chimed in from the side.

“A lecher. A damn lecher.”

Im Sobaek kept verbally pummeling the now-tattered Lecher.

“You seem to think you and the Cult Leader are about equal in skill, but I’m not so sure. The Cult Leader’s temperament is bad enough that no decent woman would go near him. If he keeps focusing on training and you keep chasing skirts, do you really think you’ll still be equals in three or four years?”

Wait...?

What kind of technique is this?

I stroked my chin and looked at Im Sobaek, trying to grasp the depth of this move.

This guy’s no ordinary man.

No wonder the Six Combat Blade was born under his name. And no wonder being the Murim Alliance Leader isn’t for just anyone.

I couldn’t think of a single counter to that move.

So once again, I learned a lesson today.

To sum it up—

A hero may be lustful, but if lust comes first, you’re just a lecher.

—From the mouth of the Murim Alliance Leader, Im Sobaek.