Murim Troubleshooter Dan Mujin

Chapter 38: Foundations for the Future

A painter who failed to become a master artist.

The pitiful youth’s name was Neung Jin-sam.

He had gripped a brush as a child and declared he would become the most famous painter in Beijing, yet now he was reduced to painting works that didn’t sell.

Tormented and struggling, he had hired a Wanderer to climb a mountain, hoping that seeing wild animals firsthand might spark some inspiration.

But even after seeing a rabbit grazing on grass and the wolf preying on it right before his eyes, no flash of brilliance came to him.

When even such desperate measures bore no fruit, he was about to drown in self-loathing, wondering if he was ultimately just a mediocre scribbler.

“Client, could you hand me that brush and inkpot?”

The young Wanderer, tired from their meaningless hikes through the mountains, suddenly asked for a brush and paper.

Dipping the brush into ink, he claimed he would give him the inspiration he couldn’t find, proposing they stop climbing mountains.

Though the thought of a fist-swinging Wanderer knowing anything about brushwork made Neung Jin-sam scoff, he figured he had nothing to lose and decided to quietly observe.

Swish. Swish. Swoosh.

To his surprise, the boy began sketching without any hesitation.

The brush strokes were awkward, but the emerging image was decent enough that Neung Jin-sam looked mildly surprised.

“This thing… it’s what we learned in middle school art class—something called linear perspective.”

The young Wanderer, absorbed in the drawing, mumbled something incomprehensible.

As the drawing on the rice paper neared completion, Neung Jin-sam’s expression changed markedly.

“Huh, the contours and fur of the beast… are depicted like this?”

The young artist was struck by a fresh shock at the bizarre and novel technique he had never seen before.

Though the brushwork itself was clumsy, the vibrant, lively style of the drawing was astounding. The beast on the rice paper looked as though it might leap out at any moment.

And then, there was something else, something even stranger...

“What the—? A beast wearing clothes and walking on two legs like a human? How insolent…”

A rabbit dressed in the uniform of the constable from the Magistrate Office, and an orange fox trailing it with a sly expression.

Though their appearances were unmistakably animalistic, their expressions and postures danced between the realm of human and beast, leaving Neung Jin-sam with an uncanny feeling.

Especially once the human-like eyes and mouths made their expressions easy to read—Neung Jin-sam couldn’t help but let out a hollow laugh.

“How can you place a beast in the same realm as a human…? Gasp!”

He had cherished and loved animals, but never had he regarded them as equals to humans.

But then—why shouldn’t he?

When the constraints of thought shattered, the walls blocking him collapsed. At that moment, the very inspiration he had longed for struck him like lightning.

“Th-the brush! Give me back the brush and paper!”

At last, his creative fire began to blaze.

A feeling surged within him that he wouldn’t be able to rest until he moved the brush right this instant.

Swoosh, swish-swish—!

Finally, he was able to draw what he had been longing to. The brush glided without pause, flowing like a river in one stroke.

It was the moment when a work that would one day make him the most renowned Beast Painter of Beijing began to reveal itself to the world.

The Oriental paintings of this era had a unique atmosphere and charm.

If one had to explain it, it resembled the serene elegance of those closet paintings in grandma’s house during a holiday.

Rather than depicting visual realism, the norm was the energy-filled expressiveness emphasizing the painter’s spirit.

So, most paintings looked flat—as if everything had been pressed down by hand.

Swoosh. Swoosh.

But the painting currently being completed before my eyes was distinctly different.

Like a martial artist who had achieved enlightenment, Neung Jin-sam had been one with his brush for the past four hours, endlessly painting.

In the depths of the mountains, so quiet even the mountain birds ceased singing, only the sound of brushstrokes echoed softly.

“Something… something weird is being completed, Boss.”

As the brush began to draw the lower body, Ilhong, who had been quietly watching, spoke up.

Smart kid, that one. His perception was truly sharp.

“Why would a beast have such an insolent lower half… It feels strange. Are we drawing a demon?”

“No, that’s definitely a beast.”

Perhaps it was the most reverent technique of depicting animals.

A hybrid of Eastern and Western styles, completed with brush and ink—a true ancient Central Plains furry hybrid.

“Mmm, mmhmm!”

Swish swish, swoosh.

The client refined the sloppy beast drawing I had made, sublimating it into his own form of art.

“But Boss, did you know how to draw too?”

Ilhong, who once got caught by me while disassembling Tang Clan’s hidden weapons and drawing schematics on paper, asked with a surprised look.

In this world, calligraphy and painting were considered the refinement of those from affluent families—his surprise was understandable.

“Well, I learned a bit of this and that when I was young.”

As I’ve mentioned before, I didn’t receive pocket money at the Sky Love Orphanage. Thanks to a few incidents I caused, of course.

So I had to earn my own spending money from Carrot Market, my light and salt.

What caught my elementary school eye back then was a post titled “I’ll draw for you.”

People were getting 500 or 1000 won for crappy drawings of dogs and cats, so I jumped in right away.

Strangely enough, the worse the drawing, the more people liked it.

Later, I learned to draw properly from the otaku hyung at the orphanage, and even earned 10,000 won per piece.

“I knew it. That explains those occasional bursts of refined knowledge. You really do seem like someone raised in a good family.”

Ilhong said he had already suspected it, claiming he could feel a mysterious aura of nobility in my face.

“Huh, was I… raised with grace…?”

Suddenly, sad memories flashed across my mind.

Being treated like a disaster by the clan, twice abandoned by my own blood, and even stabbed in the gut…

The sorrow welled up again. Why was my life filled with nothing but thorny paths, even after the curtain rose on Act Two?

I looked up resentfully at the stars hidden in the blazing sunlight.

“…It’s done! My life’s greatest masterpiece!”

Meanwhile, the young artist had completed his drawing and was now jumping up and down in excitement.

He spread the work proudly before us.

A noble tiger exchanging indecent glances with a gentle-eyed doe.

“Boss? Wh-what is this… What kind of painting is this…?”

It was a beastman art piece so audacious it felt outright sacrilegious.

Ilhong, who only knew of landscape paintings and genre paintings, was dumbfounded and left speechless.

“Oh, not bad—doing that kind of thing with a brush?”

On the other hand, having made money from such works before, I let out a soft admiration.

Look at that curvy rendering and the lewd energy of those beasts.

I had shown only a single sketch as reference, yet he had faithfully recreated not only the three-dimensional presence almost unseen in the Central Plains, but also the exact style that earned the highest pay on Carrot Market.

“H-how is it? I poured my soul into it.”

“Truly a brushwork of insight and mastery. You have talent.”

To hear one and understand ten.

It was as if I were watching myself absorbing Hwang Geolgae’s martial arts cultivation in one go.

As a senior beast sketcher, I sincerely complimented his drawing skills.

“Ahem, well, it's not quite like that.”

“Come on, it really is.”

“R-really? Ahem!”

A youth and a boy bonding over beasts. Meanwhile, the girl next to us had been staring at us in disbelief since earlier.

“Boss, this… actually makes money?”

She was speaking like an employee from some game company.

“Of course.”

She probably didn’t know. Once you find the demand, it’s a market with tremendous potential. They'll likely show up with wads of cash and ask for more drawings.

The world is vast, and all sorts of preferences exist.

And the same goes for the wealthy. If we publicized it through Eun Hwaran’s guanxi network or an auction, it would likely generate income.

If not that, then at least people knowledgeable in the arts would appreciate it as a new drawing technique.

I shared these thoughts and plans with Neung Jin-sam.

“Y-you’d go that far? All I asked was for someone to climb the mountain with me…”

He flinched when I mentioned a Trading Lord, having thought I was just a mere Wanderer.

I had just discovered a gemstone of talent before my eyes—how could I let it go to waste?

“When you become a famous painter later, spread the tale of this romantic Troubleshooter far and wide.”

“…Of course I will! I’ll even draw dozens of paintings about you and share them everywhere!”

Neung Jin-sam kept repeating words of gratitude, drenched in emotion.

Lately, I’d been doing a lot of things that didn't bring immediate profit, betting on the future—which was unlike me.

Perhaps because of that, I started to feel that familiar tingling sensation near my dantian.

“Today, I really feel like I’ve been born anew… Can I call you master?”

Claiming no one had ever guided him before, this young man declared himself a disciple to me, someone much younger.

“Of course.”

“…Thank you! Master Dan!”

Neung Jin-sam performed a clasped hands greeting like a martial artist, wearing a joyful expression.

“Well then, dear disciple. I have nothing more to teach, so let’s descend the mountain now.”

Wasn’t borrowing the brush and rice paper just an excuse to avoid hiking in the first place?

“R-really?”

“Yes, of course.”

A twisted love for beasts isn’t found in the mountains but within one’s own heart.

“Just watch, Master Dan! I’ll spread your teachings across the entire world!”

The client who had walked the path of beasts declared confidently that he would propagate today’s art style across the Central Plains.

I could already picture ordinary folks suffering under the torment of this trend, filled with inner turmoil.

Maybe, out of greed for righteous karma and sheer laziness, I’d created a horrifying fusion of Eastern and Western art.

But hey, is that really my problem?

I’d been flung into the Central Plains, struggling just to survive.

‘Well done, Neung Jin-sam. Cover the art world in beast fur.’

Client satisfaction 500 percent. Kindness and inspiration that makes them come back.

Another request, flawlessly handled.

Wearing a satisfied expression, I descended the mountain with Ilhong.

On the way back after reporting the success of the request to the Beijing Wanderers' Guild in the city’s commercial district.

I could feel Ilhong quietly staring at my face from beside me.

“A tiger and a deer in a predatory relationship… expressing affection. It’s something that could never happen in nature.”

Even Ilhong, the Successor of the Hao Sect who had access to all knowledge under the sun, was clearly shocked by the genre she had seen for the first time.

“But in the world of brushes and rice paper, it's possible. Isn’t that so?”

“……”

Bringing the impossible into reality—that is the power of creation.

Constructing a world of one’s own within the mind and giving it form.

“…All those things you said you learned—do they all feel like this?”

What does she take me for?

Only half of what I learned feels like that.

“Of course not.”

I briefly replied as I tucked the leftover money, after deducting the brokerage fee, into my coin pouch.

I earned about two silver coins and three iron coins from this job.

It had originally been a ten iron coin request, but Disciple Neung Jin-sam, feeling overwhelmed by the favor received, handed over all the money in his coin pouch before leaving.

“Gaining such a fine disciple late in life.”

The line Hwang Geolgae never dared utter.

I said it on his behalf and tucked the coin pouch deep into my chest.

By the way, I deceived Chairman Gamun, who always lines me up with crappy requests, by handing over only the standard two-tenths commission—two iron coins—and kept the rest.

In this industry, everyone scrapes off the top to survive anyway.

Humming from the unexpected windfall, I walked down the bustling streets of Beijing.

“…Huh?”

A surprised exclamation from Ilhong, who suddenly stopped in her tracks.

“What is it? Found a dumpling shop? We’ve got money now, I could buy you a few.”

But her expression said it wasn’t just about dumplings. Her eyes widened, then narrowed.

Ilhong’s gaze had fixed on what looked like an ordinary coachman.

They seemed to have no connection at all, but based on this reaction, maybe she had spotted someone related to the Hao Sect.

“…Boss.”

“Yeah, what.”

“I know this is shameless to ask… but could you lend me some money?”

How did she know the thing I hated most was being asked to lend money?

“Hmm.”

But having lived through poverty, I understood the value of every coin. And she, who never said anything frivolous, was asking to borrow—it meant something serious.

I decided to trust both my judgment and her discernment just this once.

She clearly had her reasons.

“How much?”

“…You’re really lending it to me? Without even asking why?”

She looked at me with disbelief, having seen how greedy I was about money.

“You said you needed to borrow, didn’t you?”

I pulled out a gold coin I’d received from Eun Hwaran from my coin pouch.

Ilhong’s eyes widened in shock.

“T-this much money…”

“My arm’s going numb, just take it.”

She might have seen plenty of it during her Hao Sect days, but after falling to the bottom and money becoming scarce, she probably hadn’t seen gold since.

With trembling hands, she carefully received the gold coin I handed her.

“I’ll repay this favor no matter what.”