The Cruel Spectacle
“….”
Eun Seollyeong drained the cup in her hand in a single gulp.
“Ha… haha! Truly a woman who can hold her liquor! How do you manage to drink yourself half to death without so much as touching the side dishes… At this rate, my plan to win a drinking contest and share a meal with you is…”
Thud.
The babbling man toppled backward. Already a grand spectacle of sprawled bodies surrounded her—men laid out cold, among them the son of the Hwangbo Family.
“Something feels off… Hm?”
Eun Seollyeong held out her empty cup, only then realizing no one remained to pour for her.
“She’s a wine god… How can that slender frame handle such vicious gaoliang liquor…”
From the special seats, no one else approached with a bottle to invite her for another round.
With hollow eyes she stared at the table, then snatched up a bottle herself and poured a generous stream into her cup. Even as she sipped, her gaze flicked rapidly—once to Jegal Sea, hemmed in by a cluster of men, and once to me. The longer time stretched, the longer her eyes lingered on me. They narrowed.
“Eun Seollyeong, something’s bothering you.”
Jegal Sea came up beside her, food in one hand.
“What makes you say that?”
Jegal Sea pointed at the dishes.
“You, turning down food? Noodles and all this mountain-and-sea feast? I’d sooner believe you’d sit down to a meal drinking nothing but water and not a drop of wine.”
“Exactly. That’s how absurd it is.”
“Hm?”
Eun Seollyeong nodded at Jegal Sea’s words and poured herself another cup. Jegal Sea noticed that even for someone who loved liquor as much as Eun Seollyeong, she was drinking faster than usual. She was restless about something.
“What’s going on?”
“When I first met that man, I had already committed a sin. No matter that I had sworn to abandon a woman’s path and walk the road of sword and iron, the foundation that sketches emotion and feels guilt is still human…”
Eun Seollyeong filled her empty cup once more.
“Under the excuse that it was outside the grounds of Cheonsubaekryeonsa, I simply watched as that man was indiscriminately carved open by assassins disguised as peddlers, his belly sliced with kitchen knives. Of course he never noticed me, yet even then he showed resourcefulness—he thrust his hand into the temple’s territory so I would have no choice but to move.”
“…Ah.”
Brilliant as she was, Jegal Sea understood at once whom “that man” referred to. With Jegal Sea seated beside her, Eun Seollyeong’s sidelong glances no longer swept the noisy special seats; they fixed solely on the crowd below the dais. Of course she was not looking at the crowd itself.
“He was unremarkable. Even to my eyes his gaze burned with a hellish, vicious emotion that was almost frightening.”
“What kind of emotion?”
“One endlessly familiar to me. Yes—regret, grudge, rage. Hatred, above all.”
Eun Seollyeong let out a small sigh.
“A near-mad hunger for a lost past that can never return.”
“…That’s completely you.”
Jegal Sea had weathered countless storms with Eun Seollyeong years ago. In the entire jianghu she was one of the few true powers who knew everything about her—and one of her few real friends. Eun Seollyeong breathed a short, frozen smile that barely touched her lips. Jegal Sea suddenly realized she had never once seen this Guardian smile with genuine brightness.
“Even with his belly torn open and drowning in his own blood, that man muttered that his one wish was to eat his fill of meat just once. Honestly, it was absurd. I have heard the last words of countless dying men, yet never anything like that. And somehow it struck me deeply. I could not leave him to die. From that moment I may have already locked him away in my memory.”
“….”
“Yet the man who said even that has sat through this banquet without touching a scrap of meat—without even finishing half a bowl of noodles.”
Eun Seollyeong slowly followed the end of the man’s gaze. Colorful cloths ringed the garden on every side, fluttering and dancing in the spring breeze. From the special seats where she sat, nothing was visible beyond the billowing fabric.
“What on earth is behind there?”
“Is this the sixth of the eleven contingency plans I mentioned?”
Jegal Sea said.
“Eun Seollyeong, promise me that at least in this place you will follow my judgment. You know from past experience—my calls have been right again and again.”
Eun Seollyeong spoke in measured fragments.
“…I know, Jegal Sea. Living long enough teaches you that the idea of any one person being competent in every field is pure delusion.”
“Exactly. Just as I never presume to comment on your martial prowess.”
Jegal Sea gripped Eun Seollyeong’s sleeve firmly.
“For this banquet, do not leap from your seat and charge out until I give the word.”
“….”
Without a word Eun Seollyeong lifted another bottle and poured into her cup.
“I’ll try.”
Boooom…!
A massive gong resounded. The raucous banquet fell silent. Every eye turned toward the open ground in the center.
“Is everyone enjoying the banquet?”
A man stood in the clearing.
They were not even serving the banquet. Ordinary peasants, nothing more, they glanced left and right with anxious tremors as though waiting their turn for something dreadful.
Boooom.
The great gong sounded again. Every noise of the banquet cut off at once. A man strode deliberately into the center of the open ground. First he clasped his fists in salute toward the honored guests in the special seats. Then he turned a full circle and saluted the crowd as well.
Beneath the clear spring sky stood a man with long black hair. His skin was deathly pale and white. His eyes were fierce and sharp; thick black brows sat ominously between them. A constant smile played on his lips, yet that smile carried a faint scent of blood. Jegal Sea’s face twisted sharply.
“Though humble, we hope the banquet we have prepared with care has pleased you. Forgive the late introduction. I am So Cheonpa, head of Unwol Jiju of Shaanxi Province, and the host of this gathering.”
Cheers rolled through the crowd. He clasped his fists with formal courtesy.
“I am a lowly, crude man of the unorthodox path. Yet I too am a man, and while running Unwol Jiju—which provides the pleasures of Shaanxi—I have long admired the lives of martial artists like yourselves who command the jianghu with such pride. Thus it is an honor beyond measure to host, in one place, the Hwangbo Family and the Jegal Family—two of the Five Great Clans—along with so many heroes and gallants among the countless powers that fill the martial world like stars in the sky.”
The cheers swelled.
“In that spirit I have prepared a modest event. What is the flower of the martial world to which all of you here belong? Is it not the comparison of strength against strength—the sparring match?”
The crowd began to murmur.
“That’s right! Nothing in the world is better to watch than a fight!”
“Seven years ago the imperial court held a martial arts tournament in Luoyang—I still regret missing it!”
Expectation colored every face. The guests were already drunk on wine and music. So Cheonpa smiled and clapped twice. Two men stepped up onto the open ground that would serve as the sparring stage.
“Allow me to introduce them. These are my left and right hands, the most capable among my subordinates. This is So Jeongmun, the manager who oversees Unwol Jiju’s fields and directs the tenant farmers. Beside him is Sub-manager Lee Eultak.”
The massive man with a ponytail, dark skin, and bulging solar plexus—So Jeongmun—clasped his fists in greeting. The short, thin man beside him, Lee Eultak, followed his superior’s example with equal formality.
That one.
I clearly remembered the man called So Jeongmun. When Eun Seollyeong and I first entered Shaanxi Province, he had been the one mercilessly smashing household goods and beating peasants while demanding overdue rent. The voice that imposed murderous interest rates and forced men who could not pay to sell their wives and daughters into brothels still rang vivid in my ears.
If you don’t want to sell your wife and daughter, there’s another way to clear the rent. Interested?
The words So Jeongmun had muttered while squeezing a tenant farmer rose unbidden.
So Cheonpa poured inner force into his voice and called out to the assembly.
“Our Unwol Jiju lends land at reasonable rents so that the hungry people may eat and not starve.”
He continued.
“Yet last year’s famine left many unable to pay on time, causing us enormous losses. True to their origins in Shaanxi—the homeland of martial artists—these men made us an interesting proposal.”
The colorful curtains were drawn aside. The peasants who had been standing nervously behind them formed ranks and walked forward to the edge of the sparring stage. So Cheonpa pointed at them.
“Before they were farmers, before they were heads of households, sons, or husbands—as men living in this age of the murim—they claim to have stolen glances at martial arts and tempered their bodies in their own way!”
I jerked my head up like a thunderbolt. Far off, the ones waiting their turn beneath the stage trembled violently.
“These damned bastards! You crazy sons of bitches!”
From the special seats Jegal Sea shot to her feet in fury, shouting something, only to be seized by the sleeves and forced back down by her aides. On either side the Hwangbo Family men laughed and called something to her, but the distance swallowed their words. Jegal Sea’s face flushed crimson as she launched into a fierce argument with the Hwangbo contingent. All of that noise was drowned beneath the crowd’s even louder cheers.
“Hmm.”
So Cheonpa, who had been watching the minor disturbance in the special seats, laughed brightly and called out.
“These men have properly requested one-on-one sparring matches against our manager and sub-manager as men! Should any of them win, for each victory they may demand whatever they wish of Unwol Jiju, and we have agreed to grant it!”
A brief silence fell over the assembly. Then thunderous cheers shook heaven and earth.
“Waaaah! Now this is real entertainment!”
“What stirs the jianghu more than a sparring match!”
“Right—wine and women are fine, but this is the true taste of the martial world!”
Everyone rose to their feet. Even the fragrant music was swallowed by the roar and fell silent. Every throat shouted at full volume. Amid that enormous heat I alone sat dazed.
…They trained in martial arts?
Anyone could see it. Pure nonsense. They had never even eaten properly. Their limbs were skeletal. Calluses marked their hands and feet, but those were the traces of clawing desperately through daily life. As heads of households, as only sons, as only husbands, they had lived by sheer struggle. No matter how much of a gutter their end might be, they had lived. In the cracks of that existence there had never been the luxury of time to learn martial arts or temper the body.
So Cheonpa gestured. From the group the tallest and youngest man staggered onto the stage. So Cheonpa slung a friendly arm around his shoulders.
“For the sake of fairness, you may form a continuous line and challenge from our sub-manager all the way up to the manager. To prevent any accidental deaths, of course bladed weapons are forbidden; this sparring will be limited to unarmed techniques and blunt striking weapons. Whenever one of our Unwol Jiju officers collapses from exhaustion or declares surrender, we will immediately grant one of your wishes. No objections?”
“…I…”
The man spoke to So Cheonpa in a trembling voice.
“You said wishes… If I win even once, you’ll really forgive all the overdue rent and supply our family with daily rice, right?”
“Of course!”
So Cheonpa snapped his fingers. Unwol Jiju thugs swarmed in. In one corner of the stage they stacked dozens of sacks of rice.
“In a place like this, would I lie? Win even once and those are all yours in addition to your wish! Of course…”
So Cheonpa smiled thinly.
“Only if you manage to take down one of our two officers.”
Manager So Jeongmun and Sub-manager Lee Eultak exchanged glances and wore matching sneers. The muscles wrapping their entire bodies stood in stark contrast to the emaciated peasants filling one side of the stage.
The crowd shouted over one another.
“Hahaha! Are they even opponents? Isn’t this too much, So Cheonpa!”
“No, no—still, just two men facing dozens without rest. There might be some chance, right?”
On one side a man who looked like an Unwol Jiju hanger-on strode about with a silver coin pouch, calling out.
“You can bet on the winner! You can even wager on which round the sub-manager will collapse and declare defeat!”
Men in splendid clothes dug into their robes and produced silver. Money that could feed a family for a year was tossed out like pocket change for gambling.
“I’ll go first. Manager So Jeongmun, please sit comfortably and watch.”
From one side of the stage Sub-manager Lee Eultak loosened his body with a nasty smile. So Jeongmun stepped down from the stage.
“Lord So Cheonpa said everything is allowed except killing.”
“Yes. Making blood fly is my specialty. I’ll heat the atmosphere up nicely.”
“Waaaaah!”
Cheers rose.
…This.
I looked around. I surveyed the assembly.
This.
My mouth went bone-dry. As if I alone stood apart from this world, everyone else had fused into one body of frenzy.
This is the jianghu…? The orthodox path…? This is what it looks like? This is what they do?
Those who had always flaunted justice and righteousness had cast off their masks as one and were eagerly flinging silver amid the cheers. The words I had once flung at Gang Ilbi rose in my mind.
There is no more righteousness or chivalry. Not in this jianghu. In this reality where everyone chases money, does such a thing even exist?
I had said that. Yet as always, reality was worse than I had imagined.
Twitch.
A crimson aura began to writhe in my black pupils.
Step.
Sub-manager Lee Eultak stepped forward. He spread both hands and declared,
“For even greater entertainment, I will face every match bare-handed, with pure unarmed technique alone. Of course my opponents may take up any weapon they like so long as it is not bladed.”
“Th-then… I’ll challenge first!”
From the murmuring cluster of peasants the tallest, youngest man—the one So Cheonpa had earlier put his arm around—stepped out.
“I’ll… take this, then.”
After a moment’s hesitation the man chose a staff. With trembling hands he gripped it and leveled it at Lee Eultak. Lee Eultak snorted at the sight.
“Well then.”
So Cheonpa stepped down from the stage and gestured to one side. As if waiting for the signal, an Unwol Jiju subordinate raised a stick and struck the gong with all his might.
Booooom!
The clear spring sky rang with the gong that announced the start of the sparring match.