Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Waiter Hides His Magic (1)

An inn in Xining, the provincial capital of Qinghai.

With the creak of the door swinging open, several men stepped inside the inn, their appearances worn ragged by harsh travels.

They settled into a good spot toward the back with practiced ease and called out.

"Waiter!"

"Yes, sir!"

The middle-aged man who appeared to be the eldest of the group shouted in a booming voice.

"Bring us three bowls of cold noodles and a bottle of Bamboo Leaf Green."

Before the words had even left his mouth, the youngest-looking man in the group grabbed Brother Myeong's sleeve in alarm.

"Wait, Brother Myeong-jun! Cold noodles?! Do you have any idea how rare those are here in Xining? No matter how hot it is, the price must be outrageous......"

The man stared at the one called Brother Myeong with a deeply flustered expression.

Getting one's hands on ice in the highlands of Xining was like plucking stars from the sky, so naturally, any food that required it cost whatever the seller felt like charging.

But Myeong-jun clapped the man on the shoulder and laughed heartily.

"Ha ha, it's fine. You pulled off something big this time, so you deserve at least this much. If not now, when will you ever get to enjoy such a luxury? Bring it out, waiter!"

"Still, even so...!"

At Myeong-jun's generous call, a young man with a sturdy build who appeared to be the waiter gave a quick bow and headed toward the kitchen.

The young man quietly murmured over the meat noodles.

"Ice."

Cold air burst from his fingertips and swept over the bowls.

A moment later, the waiter reappeared carrying a wooden tray.

Three porcelain bowls sat atop the tray, and remarkably, a faint layer of frost had formed on their outer surfaces.

"Your cold noodles are ready!"

The moment the waiter, Ha Jin, set the bowls down, the men's eyes went wide.

Not only were thin slivers of ice floating in the noodle broth, but generous mounds of crushed ice covered the surface of the soup.

It was a sight that cooled the stomach just from looking at it.

"What! How can there be so much of this precious ice?!"

"Hey, waiter! Are you sure this order is right?"

The young man who had worried about the price of the cold noodles let out an involuntary gasp.

The other companion seated between them looked quite astonished as well.

"Yes, these are the cold noodles you ordered. And here is your Bamboo Leaf Green!"

THUNK—!

As Ha Jin set the Bamboo Leaf Green down on the table, Myeong-jun flashed a hearty grin.

"See? I told you there's no problem. You think this is my first time at this inn? Or were you doubting me?"

"Ha ha, Brother Myeong! As if we would!"

"Exactly! We simply never imagined we'd be tasting cold noodles in the middle of Xining. Where on earth do they get all this ice? Makes you wonder if they're melting perennial snow. Waiter, where do you source the ice?"

The men's awe-filled gazes all converged on Ha Jin at once.

Ha Jin received their stares with ease, a subtle smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

There was a hint of something sly mixed in.

"Sir, that happens to be our inn's trade secret......"

"Ah, I suppose it would be."

Pride flickered across Ha Jin's grinning face.

The men pressed no further, simply marveling as they brought their chopsticks to the bowls of cold noodles.

Satisfaction was written plainly across the customers' faces.

They kept their noses buried in the refreshing bowls of cold noodles without pause.

Ha Jin watched the scene with a warm sense of contentment, the smile lingering on his lips as he turned back toward the kitchen.

"Popular as always."

Inside the kitchen.

Even at the compliment from the woman diligently washing dishes beside a pot at full boil, Ha Jin merely shrugged.

"Who do you think made them? Of course they're popular."

Just then, an old man who had been organizing the ledgers in a corner of the kitchen padded over in his stockinged feet.

Salt-and-pepper hair, kind eyes, and a warm, good-natured smile—it was Yu Jin-bang, the inn's owner and head cook.

"Oh my, our little good-luck charm!"

Yu Jin-bang practically bounded over to Ha Jin in his stockinged feet, seized both shoulders with uncontainable joy, and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Thanks to you, our inn's sales have doubled since last month! Iced cold noodles in this parched Xining land—who could've ever imagined it! Oh, my dear boy, my good-luck charm!"

Tears of joy even seemed to glisten faintly at the corners of Yu Jin-bang's wrinkled eyes.

Ha Jin, slightly embarrassed by the inn owner's praise, let out a small, awkward cough.

"You're too kind. This is all thanks to you saving my life, sir."

His claim that the inn owner had saved his life was by no means wrong.

Ha Jin had been a Hunter in twenty-first-century Korea, known as a genius Mage.

Thanks to martial arts novels, he had a decent grasp of the martial world's lore.

In any case, as a Mage, his daily routine had been dealing with Gates that opened without warning and the magical beasts that poured through from the other side.

And just like any other day, he had entered a Gate. After a fierce battle, right around the time he successfully destroyed the Core—

An unexpected variable arose.

The Gate closed abnormally fast, trapping him inside before he could escape.

Just like that, Ha Jin became a Gate stray.

Afterward, he came to his senses amid the musty smell of dirt and dust and the clamor of incomprehensible shouts.

It was none other than pre-modern China.

"What the—where am I?"

After finding himself dropped into what was commonly known as the world of martial arts, Ha Jin checked his abilities.

For better or worse, his magic was intact.

He lacked the mana for high-level spells, but he could still deftly use magic on the scale of forming small chunks of ice with a wave of his hand or chilling water.

But that was all.

'Damn it! How the hell am I supposed to survive with this level of mana!'

The Central Plains were rife with suspicion toward outsiders.

With his origins unclear and his abilities unlike anything wielded with conventional weapons, Ha Jin had no way to properly prove himself. The martial world was merciless to him.

And it went without saying that this damned pre-modern China had nothing resembling a welfare system.

"I'm going to croak. Seriously."

Then, after going hungry for what might have been days—long enough that even the pangs of hunger had dulled—a shadow fell over his collapsed form.

It was some old man.

The old man pressed a steaming dumpling and a cup of water into Ha Jin's hands.

"Eat that, at least."

"......?"

"I went through quite a lot of hardship myself as a child. Now I've put all that behind me, and my humble dream is to run a peaceful little inn. Helping hungry folks like you along the way."

The first person to show him kindness in this strange land—that was none other than Yu Jin-bang, the owner of the very inn where Ha Jin now worked.

Ha Jin devoured the dumpling Yu Jin-bang had given him in desperate gulps.

"Well now, you've got quite the appetite. I'll give you a place to stay and food to eat, so how about coming to work as a waiter at my inn? I happen to be shorthanded."

Yu Jin-bang said this while lifting his empty left sleeve.

From that day on, Ha Jin became the inn's waiter.

***

Several days passed.

Ha Jin sat alone at a window seat in a corner of the inn, shaded from the scorching sun, savoring a cup of green tea.

A bittersweet yet delicate fragrance tickled the tip of his nose.

'This would probably sell well if served cold, too, wouldn't it?'

The thought crossed his mind unbidden.

How many people back in twenty-first-century Korea couldn't survive without an iced americano with ice cubes bobbing in it?

Could it really be any different here in the Central Plains?

The desire for something cold was surely the same across all times and places.

Since the cold noodles had been a massive hit, iced green tea or perhaps a fruit tea with ice seemed like they had plenty of potential too.

'Great, now I'm already brainstorming new menu items.'

Ha Jin couldn't help but let out a quiet chuckle.

The fierce Hunter life of crossing through Gates and dancing between life and death hadn't been bad, but living like this—mulling over small concerns in a quiet inn—felt pretty good too.

'Maybe I should save up, learn more about running an inn from the old man, and eventually take over this place? No—why not start right here in Xining and expand into a whole chain of inns! Ah, but that'd be tough since I'm the only one who can use magic.'

Life as the inn's waiter was truly fulfilling.

If his Hunter days had been nothing but fighting, then perhaps what he was doing now was learning how to live.

The inn owner even felt like a mentor to him at this point.

'Is this why they say "life mentor"? I can't help it—I really should become the old man's top apprentice and expand these inns. Let's see, if I put one in each provincial capital, how much would that earn......'

Just as he was earnestly mapping out what amounted to a franchise business plan, a satisfied smile on his lips, the inn's door creaked open.

"Welcome!"

But the moment he saw who was walking in, Ha Jin couldn't help but freeze.

Scars across their faces, visible the instant they removed their bamboo hats.

On top of that, fierce expressions and sharp-edged blades hanging at their waists.

Even at a glance, these were no ordinary visitors.

'Tch, martial artists.'

Whenever martial artists showed up at the inn, petty incidents always followed, so he wasn't exactly thrilled.

The warriors swept their gazes across the interior of the inn, then dropped into empty seats not far from where Ha Jin sat.

Their sharp eyes lingered on Ha Jin for a moment before pulling away.

Then they craned their necks this way and that, eyes bulging as though searching for something.

Ha Jin's brow furrowed involuntarily.

The senses he'd honed detecting every kind of danger during his Hunter days were sounding the alarm.

'These guys don't seem like your average bunch.'

And just as he was wondering why types like them were in a place like this—

One of the warriors suddenly shot to his feet and shouted.

"Ghost Hand is trying to escape! Everyone, move in! The Elders are with us!"

"He's nothing but an old man missing an arm! Do not be afraid!"

"Run, Ha Jin!"

It was Yu Jin-bang's voice that followed.

Before Ha Jin could even fully process what was happening, a commotion erupted from the kitchen, followed by a chilling sound.

SCHLICK—!

A blood-curdling slicing sound, as if a thick slab of meat had been cleaved through in a single stroke.

Then the faint, coppery scent of blood grazed the tip of his nose.

A chill ran down Ha Jin's spine.

'What the......!'

Before he could even rise from his seat, one of the fierce-looking warriors approached him.

"You! What's your connection to Ghost Hand!"

It was a thunderous roar.

Ha Jin, unable to process the situation in that instant, asked blankly in return.

"Ghost Hand? Who the hell is that...... No, more importantly! Who are you people?!"

The man scoffed and half-drew the sword at his waist.

"Hmph! Playing dumb, are you?! We are the enforcers of justice from the Kunlun Sect! I am Baek Hak, First Disciple of the Kunlun Sect!"

The Kunlun Sect!

Though he hadn't been in this world for long, Ha Jin was someone who had always loved martial arts novels.

He was, of course, well aware that the Kunlun Sect was one of the prestigious orthodox sects of the martial world.

"Wait—the Kunlun Sect is one of the Nine Sects and One Clan! How can you commit such tyranny in a mere inn!"

His voice rose involuntarily.

What reason could a prestigious orthodox sect possibly have for attacking a small inn?

On top of that, he was growing increasingly worried about the safety of Yu Jin-bang and the rest of the inn's family.

After that slicing sound from the kitchen, Yu Jin-bang's voice had gone silent.

But Baek Hak's gaze only sank colder.

"Tyranny, you say. We are currently purging the remnants of the wicked Demonic Sect in the name of the orthodox sects! The Elders of Kunlun are already present! Do not even think of trying anything foolish!"

As he spoke, Baek Hak pressed the cold edge of his blade against the nape of Ha Jin's neck.

Ha Jin swallowed hard at the touch of cold metal.

"Now that I take a closer look at you—I sense some sort of bizarre energy. You must be the disciple of Ghost Hand, who wields sinister demonic arts! That's why he told you to run!"

Baek Hak declared with absolute conviction.

Ha Jin was dumbfounded.

He didn't even know who Ghost Hand was, and now he was supposedly the man's disciple.

"What kind of preposterous nonsense is that! I don't know anything about——"

"Silence! Enough talk! My sword will reveal what you truly are! If you dodge, that proves you're one of the Demonic Sect!"

Just as Baek Hak's razor-sharp blade ruthlessly lunged toward Ha Jin's throat, Ha Jin, pushed to his limit, screamed out in irritation.

"God—there's no reasoning with this damn bastard! Wind Cutter!"

In that same instant, all of Ha Jin's mana compressed and erupted outward.

A chilling, razor-sharp gust of wind split the air with a piercing SHWIIING—!

The wind grazed Baek Hak's body in the blink of an eye and passed right through.

"Gah—!"

A short groan tore from Baek Hak's mouth.

His eyes flew wide open in disbelief, and in the next instant, his body split cleanly in two at the waist.

SPLUUUURSH—!

Fresh blood fountained upward, dyeing the inn's floor crimson.

Baek Hak's body, upper and lower halves separated, crumpled lifelessly to the floor.

The stench of blood filled the inn in an instant.

"......"

Silence.

The remaining Kunlun Sect warriors, who had drawn their blades to surround Ha Jin, froze in place as if unable to believe what they had just witnessed.

Shock and terror were intertwined across their faces.

Ha Jin was no different.

"......Ah, fuck. What do I do now?"

He had just killed the First Disciple of the Kunlun Sect.