Onseong Assignment (5): The County Office Inferno
The night at the Onseong county office burned hotter than the day. Or more precisely, Ho-bang Park Seong-sul's head was on the verge of exploding.
"Eighty-two... no, eighty-three! You bastards! Can't you count straight?! If even one abacus bead is off, I'll chop off your fingers one by one!"
Park Seong-sul's screech echoed through the quiet archives. His appearance was indescribable. Blood vessels had already burst in his eyes, turning them rabbit-red, and dried blood crusted messily under his nose. Beside him, the Hyung-bang and I-bang clerks cross-checking the ledgers were half out of their minds.
"M-My lord... please... just one more mercy..." Finally, one Hyung-bang who had gritted through three days and nights collapsed, foaming at the mouth. Park Seong-sul didn't even glance at his fallen comrade as he flicked the abacus beads. He had no time to spare. One slip, and he'd be lying next to him.
Si-woo idly toyed with his lukewarm teacup, watching the scene impassively.
"Ho-bang Park, giving up already? You've still got a long way to go if you're filling the tax shortfall with your flesh and marrow. Haven't you even started on the grain loan interest calculations?"
At Si-woo's voice, Park Seong-sul slammed his forehead to the floor in a fit.
"M-My lord! Spare me! These past two days, I've slaved till my eyes popped out! Here—the grain loans and silver Choi Du-sik embezzled, even the slush funds hidden behind his house walls... I've tallied every last penny without error! Please, spare this wretched life!"
Park Seong-sul offered up dozens of ledger volumes with trembling hands. Si-woo took them and slowly scanned through. Crude compared to modern Excel data, but the terror of death had forged miraculous focus. Error margin under 2%. Unbelievable speed for Joseon-era abacus and brushwork in just two days.
Si-woo impassively tapped a page with his finger.
"Ho-bang Park. The grain loan interest for Pyeonggol-ri here—off by five ri."
"Y-Yes?! N-No way... You spotted a mere five-ri error with your eyes?!"
Park Seong-sul paled and madly flicked the abacus beads. Moments later, the clacking stopped dead. Exactly 0.5 pun off. Cold sweat poured down his back like a waterfall.
A monster. This guy's a demon who chews numbers with his eyes alone, no abacus needed!
Si-woo closed the ledger and spoke languidly.
"This level in two days... More useful than I thought. Or did death breathing down your neck unlock hidden talents?"
"M-My lord... This lowly one truly slaved with bones grinding... No, it felt like my bones were grinding..."
"Well done. That sneaky knack you honed under Choi Du-sik served the people this time. I acknowledge your merit—your life is spared, just this once."
Color flooded Park Seong-sul's face. He prostrated like a saved devotee at Si-woo's feet.
"Aah! My lord! Your heavenly mercy blinds me with tears! This Park Seong-sul will scamper till your shoes wear through, your faithful dog for life..."
"Ah, but Ho-bang Park."
Si-woo smiled brightly, cutting him off. The chill in that smile dropped Park Seong-sul's heart.
"Y-Yes? My lord? More orders...?"
"I said I'd spare your life, not erase your crimes. Embezzlement conspiracy, ledger tampering... We tally it all, and beheading you now wouldn't even sate justice. You know that, right?"
"W-What...! But you acknowledged my merit..."
"I did. So I'll shave off one-tenth of your sins. The remaining nine-tenths? You'll pay back with body-breaking labor from here on. Fair, no?"
Park Seong-sul's mind reeled. No execution, but lifelong penal servitude under this ghost—Si-woo. No different from life imprisonment. Tears welled as he bowed again.
"I... I understand, my lord. This Park Seong-sul will roll in your palm till death..."
That old fox Choi Du-sik is a hundred times less terrifying than this young tiger! Fine, if I'm to be a dog, pick a good master. Cling to his pant leg, and my lifeline's Mount Tai-solid!
"Good posture. Now prepare the warehouse opening by dawn. Tardiness means paying the rest of your nine-tenths with your neck."
As Park Seong-sul slunk away sniffling, Si-woo chuckled at his back. To run Onseong, he needed that rat-like scum. Subjugate, dangle hope, then snap on the chains. Essential 21st-century WWE mind games for taming.
Si-woo gazed toward Choi Du-sik's mansion visible through the window and murmured low.
"Alright. Preparations complete."
The next morning, Onseong county office front yard teemed with commoners gathered since predawn, no room to step. Rumors of Choi Du-sik's arrest yesterday bred eerie hope mingled with fear.
"Smash it!"
At Si-woo's low command, officials swung massive hammers at the mansion's back wall. BOOM!CRASH! Fancy silk wallpaper tore, mud wall crumbled. Gasps erupted from the onlookers.
From the dark inner space poured dazzling silver ingots and stacked rice sacks. Choi Du-sik's secret hoard, squeezed from Onseong's blood over decades, laid bare in broad daylight.
"Wh-What is all this...?"
"Heavens, that rice could feed our village for ten years!"
The crowd's eyes bulged. Some trembled in rage, others collapsed weeping before the sheer volume. Si-woo stood before the pile, unfurling the corruption ledgers Park Seong-sul had slaved over.
"People of Onseong, hear me! This grain is not Choi Du-sik's! It's your tears offered in hunger, the blood price of your children who starved! Today, without a single penny's error as listed here, I return it all to its rightful owners!"
Stunned silence. Then screams of cheers exploded.
"My lord! Truly?! You'll really return it?!"
"Aigoo, while our kids starved to death, that bastard hoarded all this...!"
Si-woo addressed the throng.
"Ho-bang Park! Read the rolls! Omit one soul or tamper midway, and instant dismemberment!"
Park Seong-sul, tasting hell yesterday, wailed through his bloody nose, reciting names.
"Pye-Pyeonggol-ri Kim! Overcharged grain loan interest: five nyang silver, two rice sacks! Next! Ha-ri Widow Lee, forced levy refund! Take it quick!"
Disbelieving at first, feeling the weight in their hands turned the yard to a sea of sobs.
"This mercy is not mine! It's His Majesty's grace, pitying your wrongs! Thank only one: the king!"
At Si-woo's lead, the crowd prostrated south. Thousands of foreheads thudded dully.
"His Majesty ten thousand years! Ten thousand! TEN THOUSAND YEEEEEARS!"
Si-woo stood unmoved amid the earth-shaking cries splitting Onseong's sky.
He raised a hand to quiet them, then jerked his chin at Park Seong-sul.
"Ho-bang Park! Finish distribution by sunset! Tonight, no house in Onseong shall groan with hunger!"
"Y-Yes! My lord! As ordered!"
Each rice sack handed over, each silver ingot gripped, turned the office into festival and wail-fest. Si-woo turned from the din, heading to the jail.
Through bars, Choi Du-sik scratched the floor, mad as his warehouse emptied. Si-woo tapped the bars.
"Choi Du-sik, how's it feel hearing your silver turn to folk laughter? Gut-wrenching, eh?"
Choi Du-sik clutched the bars with bloodshot eyes, howling.
"Y-You devil! You're mad! The Noron lords won't let you be! Think your neck stays intact?!"
"Ah, Noron? Worry not. Park Ho-bang squeezed out your Hanyang bribe list too. Original's with me, copy en route to His Highness."
Si-woo leaned to whisper in his ear.
"Choi Du-sik, you're dead to them already. One path to live: name those lords yourself. Spill now, and I'll lighten your sins a bit. Unfair dying alone? More join, lonelier road to hell gets crowded."
"Y-You son of a...!"
"Bark all you want. You're just a penniless, backless, dishonored old rat now. Oh, tomorrow we raze your house for a Youth Academy to raise talents. Watch greed's den birth Onseong's future."
Si-woo dusted his sleeves, exiting. Sunset stretched long over cheering masses. Gazing at the red glow, he murmured.
Old broken—now build my way. Onseong ops... time to really start.
Meanwhile, Hanyang, Kim Gwi-ju's mansion. A spy prostrated, voice quaking.
"My lord, urgent from Onseong. Choi Du-sik... arrested and jailed. Secret warehouse ransacked, even Hanyang bribes listed in ledgers."
Silence fell. Kim Gwi-ju slowly set down his teacup.
"...The gall."
The parlor air froze. Choi Dal-pyeong ventured cautiously.
"My lord, seal Choi Du-sik's mouth now? If he talks in jail..."
"Silence."
Kim Gwi-ju's eyes narrowed.
"Tch... Discard Choi Du-sik. That arrogant pup upends the board in under a month on Onseong soil. Back then, when the assassination failed... I should've crushed him by any means. My life's gravest miscalculation."