A Hometown Without Shadows
“It’s a gift.”
Five tables and chairs had been set along the wall so the workers could rest. Ja Gangcheon sat at the middle table and held out a wooden box wrapped in silk.
“Premium Donghaeju.”
“What are you doing, bringing something like this?”
“Cheongu told me you never go empty-handed the first time you visit someone.”
“I’ll accept it gratefully, then. In that case, I should pour you a cup right away.”
“I’m in the middle of internal energy training, so I can’t. One cup of that and my completion gets pushed back by ten days. You’re free to drink, though, Uncle.”
When Ja Gangcheon unsealed the bottle, a bright fruit fragrance drifted out—soft, clean. Then, as if even a scent could have an aftertaste, a warm grain aroma followed close behind.
That was the hallmark of Donghaeju alone. The first impression and the finish shifted so dramatically that people had given it another name: Heaven-and-Earth Wine.
A clear trickle filled the cup So Yeondok held out.
“My thanks.”
So Yeondok downed it in a single swallow and let out a long, satisfied breath.
“Ahh. That’s genuinely excellent. No wonder they call it Donghaeju.”
He nodded at the empty cup, thoroughly pleased.
Ja Gangcheon refilled what little remained. This time So Yeondok only wet his lips before setting it down.
“So what brings you here in person?”
“I just wanted to talk. Why did you found the Haeryong Sect, Uncle? From what I’ve heard, it doesn’t quite match the Black Societies I know.”
So Yeondok searched his memory before he answered.
“It was fifteen years ago. Back then I was just a deckhand scraping by for a few coins a day. But for an orphan with nothing to his name, even getting paid for your sweat wasn’t easy. They’d find some fault and hand over half, or throw you out empty-handed if you made a single mistake. More often than not they mocked us—said we should be grateful they hadn’t tossed us into the sea. And it wasn’t only me.”
One by one, the men who had been cheated of their wages at the harbor began to gather.
“Sailors who hadn’t been paid by their shipowners banded together and created the Haeryong Sect.”
At the start there were only ten of them—crewmen who had never received their due from unscrupulous owners, banding together simply to survive.
“I wasn’t the sect leader either. That was Big Brother Gi Cheolryeong. Once we had numbers, even the owners who used to laugh at us started settling their arrears. But one man couldn’t stand it. He ran five merchant vessels at the time—a miser of the worst kind.”
Unlike the others, he made a point of hiring Haeryong sailors, then inventing pretexts to withhold their pay. He wanted to show his strength.
“Cheolryeong couldn’t back down. He went to confront the man himself. And…”
So Yeondok drained another cup, then refilled it himself.
“He was beaten to death. That merchant proudly told us to come collect the body. ‘Trash should be cleaned up by trash,’ he said.”
After retrieving the corpse, So Yeondok set fire to two of the merchant’s ships that same night. The other three had already put to sea, so he couldn’t reach them.
“When the man came running to put out the flames, I killed him. Every brother of Haeryong rose with me, and even the miser’s family fled Gyounam.”
That was when everything changed.
“The funny part? Every last unpaid wage that had been sitting around poured in within five days. From then on, no worker sent out by Haeryong was ever treated unfairly again.”
“So becoming a Black Society was unavoidable?”
“I don’t know. At the time I was grieving—and somewhere inside, I felt a vicious satisfaction. Young blood, day after day—I barely remember what I did. If you ask whether I lived with a clean conscience, the answer is no. We sabotaged rival labor offices. We monopolized distribution rights at the southern market.”
A bitter look crossed his face.
“Honestly, there were plenty of conveniences that came with being a Black Society. I didn’t want to let them go.”
Ja Gangcheon, who had listened in silence through the long story, asked,
“Then why not just keep acting like a Black Society and swallow the Gyounam market too? Are you simply not strong enough?”
“It’s true we lack the strength—but it’s not as if there are no options. Just yesterday a fairly large unorthodox faction contacted us, offering to watch our backs. Hand over about three-tenths of the profits as tribute and we could have a patron. Of course they don’t have the reputation of the Ghost-Face Twin Killers, so there would still be fighting.”
“Then why hesitate?”
“Because it feels like crossing a line. I’ve killed people. I’ve rubbed my hands together like a fly for scraps. But every time, there was a reason of some kind. If we take the Gyounam market, the fighting that follows would be for pure greed alone. I don’t want that.”
Ja Gangcheon nodded. He had wanted to understand what kind of man So Yeondok was; this was enough.
Having made his decision, he finally stated why he had come.
“Uncle. I have no intention of becoming a Black Society’s backer.”
“Of course not. The thought never crossed my mind. What good is this place that I would drag you into the gutter?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Ja Gangcheon held So Yeondok’s gaze.
“I can become your backer—not the Black Society’s.”
“What?”
So Yeondok thought for a moment, then grasped the real meaning.
“You’re telling me to leave the Black Society?”
“I’m not ordering you. I’m saying that if you dissolve the Black Society side and run only a labor office, I’ll protect you.”
“If that’s the case, I could ask for nothing more. But while I still have the chance, there are things that must be erased from the black market.”
Ja Gangcheon already knew So Yeondok meant to remove three things from the black market.
“Don’t worry about that. Once you disband the Haeryong Sect, no other Black Society will be able to set foot in Gyounam again.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’ll stop them. The Ghost-Face Twin Killers used their strength to build a Black Society. I intend to use mine to erase them.”
“Ah…”
Caught off guard by the plan, So Yeondok fell silent for a moment, then asked,
“Why go that far?”
“Because I’m going to make Gyounam my hometown. The hometown I dream of has no need for Black Societies.”
He spoke like a painter who could draw any picture he wished.
“Is that even possible? And if I refuse—what happens then?”
“I’ll simply leave you alone.”
Ja Gangcheon rose from his seat, adding lightly that So Yeondok would then be Gyounam’s only Black Society.
“Think it over and get in touch.”
He left those words behind, and for a long while silence settled over the empty place he had occupied.
Three days later.
Early in the morning, Ja Gangcheon found himself looking at a hollow-eyed walking corpse.
Astonishingly, that corpse was So Yeondok.
“Uncle. Did you not sleep? Or did you not eat?”
“Both, I think.”
“Then eat first and get some proper rest.”
“I’ll do that after I say this.”
After long deliberation, So Yeondok delivered his conclusion.
“I will disband the Haeryong Sect.”
Ja Gangcheon smiled.
“Good decision.”
“In return, give me half a month.”
“Why?”
“I’m going to clean up the black market. Uirim Hall is gone and no other faction has claimed its place—this is the only window. Once that work is finished, Haeryong will dissolve.”
It was exactly what Ja Gangcheon had wanted as well.
“We’ll also liquidate every enterprise Uirim Hall ran in the trade market. The profits from that will be divided among the younger brothers as retirement funds.”
There were still brothers who had argued for swallowing the Gyounam market. Once they heard Ja Gangcheon’s will, every one of them tucked their tails. In exchange for a generous severance, they agreed to see the final work through together.
“All right. If there’s anything I can do, say so. If you need it, use my name.”
“Thank you.”
“Now let’s go eat.”
“No. I have orders to give the younger ones. Once everything is finished, I’ll come find you again.”
As he turned away, Ja Gangcheon called after him.
“Uncle. I’ll be rooting for you.”
That easy, familiar tone meant more to So Yeondok than anything else.
The market at Jinhae Harbor ranked among the largest in all of Shandong Province.
On the trade side, costly medicinal herbs, silks, and porcelain stood in gleaming rows; opposite them, spices brought in from overseas filled every stall. And as was only natural for a sailors’ stronghold, Gyounam’s pleasure quarters were vast as well. Every night the blue houses blazed with brilliant performances and laughter, while deeper in the back alleys the red houses—selling not only company but beds to the crewmen—had swollen to a considerable size.
Yet larger than every one of those businesses was the black market.
In Jinhae Port they said:
In the shadow of the glittering market, a greater market hides.
Before a master of the Ghost-Face Twin Killers’ caliber had stepped forward, countless factions had clawed at one another for control of Gyounam’s Jinhae Harbor—and that battleground was precisely the black market.
Now upheaval had crashed over it.
First Uirim Hall collapsed. The gambling dens that had halted operations were shut down for good, and the underground apothecaries vanished. The blue houses, however, proved far harder to drive out with Haeryong’s strength alone.
They had paid protection money to Uirim Hall, but they had always operated independently—and they were still open for business.
From the outside they looked like petty brothel-keepers running dingy buildings in secret. The reality was different.
People break the law because it makes a great deal of money.
The old blue houses commanded deep connections and no small wealth. They had something to lean on.
When Haeryong tried to drive them out by force, the cornered keepers banded together as one.
From that moment, Haeryong’s reckless purge of the black market ground to a halt.
“Who came in?”
Ja Gangcheon had just finished his morning qi circulation and was about to eat when Panseok approached with a grim face.
“They’re called the Black Ship Sect.”
“Who are the Black Ship Sect?”
A short while later Cheongu arrived and filled in the details.
“North of Gyounam there’s a harbor called Hwangdo. They’re an old, established unorthodox faction based there—nothing like a Black Society. Even when the Ghost-Face Twin Killers were around, there were rumors they had their eye on Gyounam’s black market.”
“And now they’re eyeing it again?”
“That’s how you have to read it. Which is why they planted bodyguards right out in the open at the blue houses.”
Ja Gangcheon closed his eyes for a moment, recalling something he had heard before.
“You said there are children in the blue houses.”
“That’s right.”
“All of them taken by force.”
“Some were sold by their own parents. Either way, none of them chose it.”
“And the claim that in the black market you can buy or sell anything if you have the money—is that true too?”
“You can sell a life. Naturally you can buy one as well.”
It was a place where murder contracts were struck as casually as any other transaction, so long as silver changed hands.
“Understood. That’s enough.”
Ja Gangcheon rose from his seat.
“What are you planning to do?”
“Someone needs to tell them that Gyounam’s rules have changed.”
Until now he had only watched. Now Ja Gangcheon moved.
The place he headed for was not the black market.
“You’re going straight to Hwangdo?”
“Yeah. Taking out the guards at the blue houses wouldn’t solve anything.”
He was right. Vanished escorts would simply be replaced, and the next clash would only grow fiercer.
“I understand what you mean, but… is helping them this much really the right call?”
“Helping Haeryong is secondary. I have a real purpose.”
“Which is?”
“I’m going to turn Gyounam into a place worth living in. If I pour my affection into this land first, maybe Mother and Father will come to love it too.”
“Ah. When you put it that way, it makes sense.”
“Our parents have nowhere else to go. I want them to settle here.”
Cheongu was fully convinced.
“For a reason like that, I’m with you.”
“Thanks.”
His friend’s support made the road to Hwangdo feel lighter underfoot.