Behind the Stage
Behind the stage...
"...Is that true?"
"It's still just a hunch, but I think it's spot on. Hmm."
But suspicion and certainty are worlds apart, so trying to convince him left me hesitating a bit.
"I'll help you."
"Oh."
That was why I'd broached the subject so cautiously, but unexpectedly, he accepted my request without a second thought.
"Who else but the prodigy of pirate extermination from the Cannon Division, Young Master Yujin! If anything, I'm honored that you came to me first for help."
—This reaction's a bit much.
I wasn't sure I deserved that kind of esteem, but for some reason, he seemed to hold me in high regard.
Of course, it made convincing him in situations like this a lot easier, but staring into those sparkling eyes made me feel oddly guilty on multiple levels.
"I hate to say it, but I thought I held an important position in the military myself. Never imagined there'd be someone higher up feeding info to the enemy."
From the organization that had shielded his lover from her tormentors in the past, no less. His face twisted with deep betrayal.
That sense of betrayal was probably driving him more than any trust in me right now. No hesitation in his choice, then.
"So, Young Master Yujin, how can I assist you?"
"Well, here's the plan."
◈ 0. Gather only reliable people.
◈ 1. Just do it.
◈ 2. Think about it afterward.
"...That's a surprisingly concise and, uh, freewheeling plan."
Bijong's eyes flickered with a momentary waver of trust as he glanced at the scribbles I'd jotted on the paper, but I decided to ignore it.
No point in overcomplicating things, right? Just go with the flow, play it smart. That's life.
Above all, my long experience in Zhejiang told me we didn't need a massive horde charging around for pirate hunts.
A small elite team of trusted folks who meshed well would be way better for ops.
"First off, assemble a unit of only tight-lipped, rock-solid reliable people. Numbers don't matter as long as they can execute."
With roles clear in my head, things moved fast. Bijong rounded up his crew quick—lots of familiar faces from that village skirmish before.
We led them straight to the coastline, blasting through outposts and clearing them out.
"From now on, coastal outpost security is handled by this special task force. Anyone not part of it, back to base pronto."
We shoved the baffled original guards toward their barracks.
Of course, with a foreigner like me barking orders, some pushed back. But rank's a bitch—Bijong just had to show his face, and it was sorted.
Things went smooth thanks to Vice Commander Bijong, whose authority they couldn't ignore.
Might have to deal with fallout later, but whatever. If I could see the future, Bijong would forgive me.
...Wait, forgive? Nah, screw that. I'm here with good intentions—what happens ain't on me. Forgiveness is for bad guys begging.
Yeah! Just don't create a mess that needs cleaning up. Mulling it over, that felt right. My head nodded in agreement.
Speaking of, Yugu Su—this guy was such a minor player in the original story, I barely remembered him.
Thought he was just a side note in the Jiangsu arc, but damn, more entanglements and conflicting interests than expected.
Guess games and reality play out different.
Anyway, groundwork's done.
"Alright, reports go straight to the top from now on. No going upstairs—absolutely not!"
Sounded off, but after I hammered it home a few times, they nodded reluctantly.
Can't be helped for quick work—we'll handle it ourselves, no delays.
"Trouble? Send the boss our way! Vice Commander Bijong here's got it all covered!"
Bijong's face stiffened a tad at that, but no choice. Big sacrifices need their price to prevent worse.
The troops lightened up in contrast—fair trade.
"Let's move out!"
At my word, the squad grabbed gear and scattered along the coast.
Manpower, weapons, lookout spots—Bijong called the shots, flipping everything in a flash.
Not zero worries between certainty and doubt, but...
Now, all I could do was watch results unfold.
In Nanjing's government offices, Muyul returned from Suzhou duties deep in thought.
No matter how he tried to sway that brute, no give. Why? Had the princess offered better terms?
—No way.
The gap was already massive. Still no dice? Maybe he was missing something.
Upper brass didn't sweat details—just wanted him reeled in within time and terms. He failed, end of story.
Muyul racked his brain. How to salvage?
"...What to do?"
Just do his damn job.
Off-season busywork like this wasn't his main gig—he oversaw clerks as tax officer, squeezing every coin from every corner.
From what he'd seen, the provincial inspector cared more about collections than wooing brutes.
He wasn't book-smart like other officials, but no slouch in wisdom. The inspector's "prime time" synced with central politics.
He got the stakes, even without full intel. Nailing this could score big—maybe a post of his own.
So Muyul schemed hard, hunting clever ways for standout results.
'The Demonic Cult is everywhere and nowhere.'
This iconic phrase nailed their reach—no ignoring it where their tendrils stretched.
Profit-chasers were one thing; zealots hiding in the flock? Near impossible to root out.
Info nets like Beggars' Clan or Haomun lagged, but their org structure and mobilization? Untouchable.
Made Central Plains folk wary, terrified.
Even the imperial house. Their clout surged in this chaotic politics, reaching far-flung Jiangsu.
"Rumors of the princess look real."
Gwakssi shared his intel roundup.
With allies, foes, threats sorted, this wildcard popped in Suzhou.
Unpredictable impact meant extra vigilance, probing who he was.
Yujin: Sudden Zhejiang dispatch, pirate-slaying prodigy.
But first descriptor? 'Appointed by the princess.'
He knew she hid her identity on posting.
—But princess or prince, how different? Dog-eat-dog royalty either way.
Too many inconsistencies for snap judgment.
This guy became key intel.
His call rippled down the chain, gauged for exploitation.
"Hey, Jang Sam. Hear the news?"
"What news?"
"...New tax hike incoming."
"What? That fucking tax prick."
Yeah, numbers so insane, no wonder rumors flew.
Literally murderous—deaths uncountable.
Blood boiled. Not pure populism; aligned with doctrine.
Plans prepped against looming flames.
Time neared for the harshest phase.
"Another bullshit excuse for the hike? Spill."
"Gwakssi says 'public safety fund.'"
Hired that Zhejiang hotshot at big bucks for pirates. Pay up for my trouble.
"Bullshit."
From their perch, it was duty, not brag. No basics, no wonder the empire's fucked.
"Get this: Gwakssi's buddies with the hotshot now. Says he came to Jiangsu for free."
"Even the excuse fake?"
Gwakssi's word was gold. Jang Sam just sighed in disbelief.
"Rough times. Folks won't last to harvest."
"If we let those clowns slide?"
Yeah, talk failed ages ago. At the tipping point, one tool left: violence.
Yi Ssi nodded, reading between lines.
Overwhelming force. Grab the wicked, hang 'em, lop heads.
Flames spread, toppling Murim Alliance and throne, Cult ascendant.
We'd lead the charge.
Jang Sam, Yi Ssi—all gathered cultists—recalled ancient tenets inwardly.
When the Cult's will descends once more, all shall kneel before it.
In that moment of triumph, the holy flames of the New Faith shall bring a millennium of peace.
"Demonic rule upon the world imminently."
"Ten thousand years eternal."
For now, hide fangs and claws. Our time was coming.
Ultimate goal: Dynasty flip, purge the foul, crown the sacred.
Muttering sacred vows, the resolute band melted into crowds, prepping the grand undertaking.