25. Education (1)
Hwajeong Merchant Group was paying a heavy price for framing Jeokgeum Merchant Group. What could have ended with the deaths of the Red-White Twin Heroes had dragged on, inviting their own downfall. Warriors who had lost their cause turned their blades on Hwajeong in a desperate bid to save face. It devolved into a petty, mud-slinging brawl where everyone bit and clawed at each other.
Meanwhile, Jeokgeum's timely responses and patient maneuvering had elevated its reputation. The fact that the Gangbang's heir had stepped in personally played a huge role. Jeokgeum might not expand or grow visibly right away, but its future was paved smooth as silk.
Realistically, Hwajeong's main products overlapped heavily with Jeokgeum's as a rival group. They'd handed Jeokgeum the perfect ammunition, and now Jeokgeum could seize their distribution channels at any moment. For instance, shops that had ties to Hwajeong just days ago were now seeking out Jeokgeum. Hwajeong had poured fortunes into placating the gathered warriors and lost its distribution lines to Jeokgeum besides, shrinking rapidly. They were barely holding on by pinning it all on the deputy leader's rogue actions, ignoring the leader's wishes.
"Haa..."
Gu Seo-jin let out a sigh of disbelief after finally clearing the pile of work and being left alone in his office.
"Is this really my son?"
Ever since sending his son on that business trip, days had blurred into a frenzy. Who could've guessed the infamous shut-in young master would unleash such a massive aftermath? If he'd known, he wouldn't have sent him. But that excuse rang hollow—his son had laid the foundation for Jeokgeum's golden age.
In truth, competing with Hwajeong had been no easy feat. Left to drag on, Jeokgeum was doomed to decline. His son had exposed Hwajeong's corruption on that trip, dealing a blow they might never recover from. Even when news of the Red-White Twin Heroes' deaths broke, no one foresaw this outcome.
"But why'd the Gangbang get involved?"
He'd known his son had set the stage and prepared accordingly, but that one punch coming from the Gangbang? Unbelievable. Exposing the Twin Heroes' crimes would've been enough. Instead, his son cornered Hwajeong and boosted Jeokgeum's prestige.
Creak!
The inner manager barged in without knocking. Gu Seo-jin had told him to relax, but this was too relaxed.
"This is fucking exhausting."
"You talking to me?"
"Just mumbling. Your ears are too sharp."
"I hear everything, you bastard!"
It was the kind of beautiful camaraderie that'd scare anyone who saw it. At least they only acted this way in private.
The inner manager had reason to gripe. Business had exploded lately—visitors multiplied several times over. This was no time for half-measures; at their peak, he had to handle it personally.
"This really all Young Master Cheon-woo's plan?"
"You calling my son a hack?"
Only Gu Seo-jin could badmouth his own son. Anyone else, and he'd lose it.
The inner manager ignored his outburst, as expected. He knew exactly how Gu Seo-jin felt about his son—words like that fell on deaf ears.
"Cool it. I think we can recruit him soon."
"Tch. He hasn't seemed like my son lately anyway."
With fires raging at his feet, Hwajeong's leader scrambled to soothe the warriors and cut ties with the Twin Heroes by abandoning his son. As if he'd have time to care for a dantian-shattered warrior then. Unless he treated his merchants and escorts like family—which he didn't.
The reality hit like a chill. What if his son had foreseen this and only crippled their dantians? Hwajeong had danced in the palm of his hand from start to finish.
"I wanna spill the whole story, but I can't."
"You'd drop dead today if you did."
"I'd still send condolence money."
"Then hold a full funeral while you're at it."
Forgive the sin, not the sinner? Recalling how they'd sabotaged Jeokgeum at every turn, slaughtering them felt too merciful.
"We need every distribution channel linked to Hwajeong secured."
"I know, so lay off already."
Gu Seo-jin planned to drain Tak Jung-il dry. It might be ruthless, but survival in the merchant world demanded cold precision. Half-hearted mercy always backfired.
"Has my son finally opened his eyes as a merchant?"
"If you call it that, he's more warrior than merchant."
"Merchant, warrior—doesn't matter if he excels."
"True enough."
Gu Seo-jin had hoped his eldest would just shape up. Delivering such a massive gift to Jeokgeum was beyond expectations.
"We gotta block other groups from wedging in."
"I've hammered that into everyone—no openings."
Thinking only Hwajeong competed was naive. Sacheon's other merchants wouldn't let Jeokgeum swallow them whole unchallenged. Speed was key to claiming the spoils. But feigning magnanimity mattered too. Pushing Hwajeong off the cliff was fine, but if it looked like Jeokgeum's aggression, trouble brewed. Balance ruled this world. Cut the enemy's throat, but hide your hand to live long.
"He'll be okay, right?"
"You endured a lot for the group."
"Honestly, after that letter, I thought you'd bolt."
"I figured he used it to blackmail them. Then got beat half to death."
"...Slander!"
His fluster hit the mark. Impressive how a small-time group had risen to mid-tier with thoughts so transparent on his face.
'It's all thanks to talents like me.'
Keep it up.
***
Cheon-woo learned the merchant trade from the deputy manager. Core operations covered production, quality control, sales, distribution, and management. Each had specialized section chiefs and deputies. But unlike massive conglomerates, they managed holistically rather than rigidly dividing roles—gaps needed filling if someone dropped out.
Ha! The deputy manager's disappointment matched his high hopes. New to the trade, it was understandable. But the scheme that trapped Hwajeong had seemed puzzling at first, only to align perfectly for optimal results. With brains to lay groundwork for the future, he'd expected Cheon-woo to master merchant work effortlessly.
"You expected too much. I'm a total novice at commerce. You'll need to teach me carefully from here on."
"...I see."
For someone clueless, he was awfully confident. Jeokgeum's heir ignorant of key products and sales processes? Teach one thing, hope for three insights—instead, he stuck to exactly what was taught. Linking departments meant starting over. Willingness was there, but enthusiasm waned at the low level.
'At least laziness would give an out.'
He studied precisely two hours daily without fail. Diligent as hell, yet no progress.
'What the hell did he do in that room?'
Basics should've been covered for smooth lessons, but teaching minutiae killed efficiency. Worse, the young master followed instructions to the letter. Rigid as stone. Textbook adherence was fine in theory, but merchants needed flexibility. Situations demanded judgment—blind obedience wouldn't cut it. Reality never followed the script. Not merchants, murim, officials, or commoners—all tangled in connections. Strict orthodoxy bred not success, but massive losses and enemies. Countless thriving groups had crashed after clashing with murim or officials.
Customs weren't ideal, but ignoring them changed nothing. For example, assuming payment after sales:
"What if they don't pay on time?"
"Kill them if no valid reason."
"And if there is?"
"Kill whoever created the reason."
"What if they have a reason too?"
"Track them all and kill."
Why always kill? Hard to deny it never happened. He claimed to discern justly, killing only the unjust. Sharp judgment, zero exceptions.
"What about the money after?"
"Never thought that far."
At least he'd admit fault then. No, he owned his ignorance boldly, utterly matter-of-fact.
"What if one inkstone goes missing from storage?"
"Hunt them down and kill if no justification."
"For one inkstone?"
"One or a hundred, crime is evil. Evil must be eradicated."
The deputy manager swallowed dryly. The Ten Merchant Precepts forbade coveting goods—the Seventh Commandment. Enforced as doctrine because pilfering became habit. The issue? The young master's extremism. No tolerance for precept violations, big or small.
"People are more precious than goods!"
"A needle thief becomes a cow thief. Better nip it early."
How do you know they'll steal cows? Why judge that yourself? Weighing human lives for efficiency. Merchant-like, but cold-blooded.
"Young master, upholding precepts matters, but people matter more. Win hearts to become a true merchant."
"Hm... Far harder than I thought."
What's hard? Just bend a little! Nitpicking everything stalled progress. No plans for this time sink. But unleashing him now risked disaster.
'I'd stomp my own foot!'
After his heir designation, he'd volunteered to train him. Incompetence would've been fine. Subordinate screw-ups could explode. Casual graft was one thing—mass deaths from it? Unbearable.
'He needs flexibility.'
But that wasn't taught; it came from bloody experience. Problem: deaths in the field. He wouldn't overlook graft.
'What did he do all day?'
Extreme shifts needed trauma, but the shut-in only ate, slept, shat. Innate talent explained his mastery.
'Not for merchants!'
Skip orthodoxy for graft? No, with his rigidity, blame would trace back. Outer manager's type—total loyalty. He'd rat to the leader before a word.
'Wait, exceptions?'
The duel challengers weren't clean either. Ties to the Twin Heroes meant crimes beyond casual graft.
"You spared those wormy duelists but harsh on merchants?"
"No worries."
"Pardon?"
"They die in a fortnight."
"What?"
"Planted intent during the duel. Might survive Transcendent enlightenment, but set to kill in a month. No concern needed."
"...?"
"Even if they live, I'll kill them next time."
Young master, what life have you lived? Straight-up murder. They'd die clueless. Chilling to hear, unimaginable to suffer. Death without knowing why. And instant death on reunion.
The deputy manager choked back protests. No guilt or pity in that impassive face. Enemies weren't people—mere beasts.
'Why?'
Incomprehensible. Like he'd waged brutal wars.
"Where'd you learn that?"