I suddenly looked to both sides of the bridge.
The number of people crossing had clearly decreased. Was it because the thugs who fell off the bridge had gone to fetch their sword-wielding comrades? Or had ordinary people instinctively sensed another fight brewing and backed off?
The bridge was growing more and more deserted.
In any case, whether Noshin turned out to be a traitor or not—I was determined to protect Beggars’ Sect Leader Shin Gae.
Life is ridiculous that way.
Here I was, once just a mere Jomsoi, now deciding to protect the strongest man in all of Jianghu.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
Stronger than Geomma, the eldest of the Four Great Villains. Stronger than Im Sobaek, the Martial Alliance Leader. Stronger than even the Cult Leader, who couldn’t kill him.
The man who now declared he would protect the strongest martial artist in the world—that was me.
My life was ridiculous, and I was absurd. So I laughed alone.
When I suddenly burst into laughter, Noshin laughed too, probably bewildered. Realizing there was a deeper meaning to my words, the Sect Leader smiled as well. For a brief moment, the three of us laughed on the bridge, each for our own reasons.
Sometimes there is sorrow in laughter—and the Sect Leader’s had that quality.
I stepped down from the railing and sat between master and disciple.
With my right hand, I grabbed the rough hand of the elderly Sect Leader of the beggars.
With my left, I casually took Noshin’s hand.
“Senior. And Noshin.”
The Sect Leader looked at me. Noshin replied.
“Our Sect Leader has already saved Jianghu once. I don’t know if anyone ever thanked you, but I’ll do it in their place. Thank you. You’ve suffered greatly.”