Chains of Debt
Cheongunryong came roughly down the stairs.
“Cheongunryong-nim! A-are you all right?!”
Even in the midst of his fury, he offered no threat to the harmless women and commoners who approached him.
“It’s nothing.”
“Nothing, my foot!”
Those who had gathered protested furiously at his words.
“Ju Aseong threatened you again, didn’t he!”
“Honestly, that whole family is rotten from top to bottom without exception!”
Cheongunryong offered a calm smile.
“I’m fine. I’ll be going first, then. I’m busy.”
His clothes were shabby. The scabbard at his waist was worn and frayed. Clutching a wanted poster in his right hand, he hurried out into the street, wanting only to forget the filthy feeling.
Outside, even in the height of winter, the temperature was rising under the warm sunlight. On one side of the road a farmer was stacking bundles of straw to cook cattle feed for the long cold months ahead.
Crash!!!
The second-floor window shattered.
“Aaaaah!”
With a desperate scream a man plummeted down.
“Oh my goodness!”
The farmer recoiled in shock. The man landed on the rice straw and avoided instant death. Cheongunryong rushed over at once.
Both of the man’s knees were bent completely the wrong way. One arm was broken and his shoulder had been wrenched from its socket.
“Th-this man!”
This was clearly one of the large servants who had been intimidating him earlier at Ju Aseong’s side.
“Gyaaaaah!”
“…!”
At the ghostly, desperate wail, Cheongunryong lifted his head.
Thud!
The second-floor wall shook as if it would collapse. That was the place where, until moments ago, Ju Aseong had remained with the masked stranger who covered his lower face.
“Up… upstairs.”
Cheongunryong muttered.
“Just what is going on up there.”
Smack!
“Aaak! My nose!”
Ju Aseong screamed, clutching his nose. That was only the overture.
“Y-Young Master!”
“You crazy bastard!”
The servants charged. I kicked the table. It skidded hard, sending two of them sprawling forward. I drove both knees into their falling faces at once.
“Guh!”
Both men’s noses broke and blood poured. I brought my fists down on top of them. Their faces smashed into the floorboards, splintering the wood.
“You bastard!”
From behind, a club of hard birch wood swung at me. I raised my arm to block.
Crunch!
The club shattered against the Chiljong-heukjusa-gap as if it had exploded. The servant stared in shock at the broken weapon in his hands. I stepped into his guard, palm open, and snatched the club away. I seized his wrist and struck the inside of his elbow.
“Aaak!”
His arm broke. I gripped the wrist of the broken arm with both hands, planted my foot against his chest, and pulled.
“N-no—!”
I dislocated his shoulder. A pure white scream tore from him as he thrashed.
“Y-you son of a—!”
I dodged the club swinging down from the side, then hurled the man whose arm I had torn free. He crashed through the window.
Crash!
“Aaaaah!!”
A desperate scream accompanied his fall.
Whoosh!
I slipped past another swinging club and smashed down on a collarbone.
Crack!
The collarbone snapped and both of the servant’s arms went limp. I seized his hair and drove my knee into his face.
Thud!
He collapsed like a rotten tree.
“You.”
“H-hiiik…!”
I grabbed Ju Aseong—still clutching his nose—by the collar and hauled him up. Breathing hard, I clenched my fist.
“Thinking about it, a month is absolutely not enough.”
“W-what are you saying…!”
I glared with wide eyes.
“Just die for the rest of your—”
No internal energy!
Mumyeong’s intervention made my right arm seize as if paralyzed.
“Khuh!”
Pain like electricity raced through my whole body. The condensed internal energy scattered. In that instant of rigidity—
“You bastard!”
Smack!
My vision shook. I lost my grip on Ju Aseong’s collar and dropped to one knee. Shattered fragments of a chair rained down beside me. Blood ran from the back of my head. A servant behind me had smashed a chair into my skull with all his strength.
“….”
The red light that had been fading from my eyes flared again.
Slap!
“Aaak!”
I backhanded Ju Aseong across the cheek. I snatched up a nearby flowerpot, spun, and seized the collar of the servant who had struck my head.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
The flowerpot shattered to pieces and the servant went limp.
“D-don’t come near me!”
Clang!
A servant drew a self-defense dagger from his waist and swung. I slammed the table. Wooden chopsticks sprang into the air as one.
The form of the mastered technique settled into my hand.
Papapapap!
“Aaaaah!”
Chopsticks buried themselves in his limbs and he tumbled. I kicked the face of the servant who was gasping and trying to rise.
“A g-ghost! Someone help!”
The last two servants fled. I launched myself after them, kicked off the wall, and used the rebound to drive my foot down like lightning. One went flying. I seized the last man’s throat. He had already completely lost the will to fight.
“L-let me go downstairs!”
“Fine.”
I simply threw him down the stairs.
“Gyaaah!”
He tumbled madly and smashed into the wall below.
“Haa… haa….”
I panted and pressed a hand to the back of my head. Sticky blood came away on my fingers. It was not a serious wound.
That was not intentional.
Mumyeong said.
“…No, that’s not the problem…”
The attack had slipped through the instant Mumyeong had braked me. Injury had been unavoidable. More than that, I felt it keenly: I was still not used to chaotic melees. Even against servants of far lower skill I had gotten tangled when I should have overwhelmed them completely. Attacks pouring in from every direction were nothing like a one-on-one duel. Just as swimming and running were completely different disciplines, a life-and-death duel against one and a free-for-all against many were entirely separate realms. I felt it all over again.
Someday when I have time I need to properly study fighting one against many.
I swept my sweat-soaked hair back and caught my breath, then looked around. The room was full of groaning, writhing servants.
“D… d-don’t come near me!”
Ju Aseong, one cheek already swelling purple, backed away with a thin, trembling voice.
“G-guards!”
Thud. Thud.
I walked toward him one step at a time. Ju Aseong scrambled backward in mad panic and screamed.
“A… anyone!”
“….”
“S-someone call the authorities—no, call my father!”
His desperate cries rang through the second floor of the inn.
“Th-there’s a madman here! Someone report it to the authorities! Anyone, please come! D-don’t come near me…! H-he’s coming, he’s coming!! He’s coming!!”
I crouched in front of him. Ju Aseong looked up at me with tear-filled eyes.
“W… what kind of human eyes…!”
“You son of a bitch.”
I whispered in a low voice.
“I have a long road ahead of me, and because of you the very first step is already twisted. How are you going to take responsibility?”
“Y-you… you!”
Ju Aseong pointed at me with a violently shaking hand and wailed.
“Is a martial artist allowed to use such vulgar curses and gestures?!”
“….”
I stared at him blankly. Ju Aseong cried out in desperation.
“You’re a righteous sect man! You value propriety and respect as much as your own life!”
“….”
“Aha! That’s why you’re wearing a mask, isn’t it? Because you can’t face your own actions with pride! Know shame before Heaven, you bastard!”
“….”
I looked up at the ceiling.
“….”
I lowered my head, looked at Ju Aseong, and nodded. I pulled up the still-damp mask and adjusted it properly. Then I reached out and straightened his disheveled clothes.
“Huh…?”
A brush was sticking out from inside his robe. I plucked it free with my fingers.
“Know shame, you say?”
I brought the brush handle down on Ju Aseong’s head.
Smack!
“Aaak!”
I seized the thrashing Ju Aseong’s hair and struck again.
“You’re still alive enough to say that.”
I beat him without mercy. The brush handle split and burst apart.
“That’s why garbage like that comes out of your mouth?”
“I-I’m sorry!”
Brush hairs flew in every direction like plucked chicken feathers. Covered in tears and snot, Ju Aseong cried out.
“I… if my father finds out, you—!”
“Stop looking for your father. I’ll send your corpse to him through the Contending Hands.”
“Hiiik! Ch… Cheong… Cheongun…!”
Flailing, Ju Aseong shouted.
“Cheongunryong!”
“That is quite enough!”
My hand stopped. I looked back. Cheongunryong stood there, breathing hard—an ice-like martial artist with blue-tinged black hair and white clothes.
“What in the world do you think you are doing?!”
“….”
I released the brush handle.
Clatter…
It rolled away. I let go of Ju Aseong’s collar. With his swelling eyelids he scrambled on all fours toward Cheongunryong in a panic.
“Ch-Cheongunryong! Th-that madman! The moment you went downstairs he suddenly went berserk and—!”
I glanced around, picked up a shard of glass.
Host.
I set the glass back down and instead picked up a small pebble that had spilled from a flowerpot nearby.
Pew.
The form of the technique rode the pebble as it flew and struck Ju Aseong square in the forehead.
“Guh!”
Ju Aseong’s eyes rolled back and he fainted. Cheongunryong cried out in alarm.
“What do you think you are doing to the Young Master!”
I snorted.
“You could have stopped it and didn’t. Spare me the lectures.”
Cheongunryong’s face flushed as he muttered.
“Th-that is because there was no killing intent!”
I picked a roughly white scrap of cloth from the wreckage and pressed it firmly to the back of my head. The cloth slowly turned red. I took one step forward. Cheongunryong tensed and brought a hand to his waist.
“Do not come any closer.”
He stood completely between me and Ju Aseong.
Step.
I walked one pace to the side. Cheongunryong shifted one pace with me. I moved the other way. He mirrored me again. After three attempts I simply stared at him.
Cheongunryong gritted his teeth and shouted.
“I bear you no ill will, but I must protect the Young Master! If you approach any further I will have no choice but to cut you down, so I beg you to conduct yourself properly!”
“…Hah.”
I raised a hand. Cheongunryong flinched at the flutter of my sleeve. He gripped his sword hilt as if ready to burst and cried out.
“If you come any closer…!”
“Behind you.”
“What is behind me! Some clumsy trick to divert my eyes so you can harm the Young Master?!”
I clicked my tongue. With a short sigh I said quietly,
“The stairs are behind you.”
I gestured to the side.
“Would you mind stopping blocking the front and just stepping aside?”
“….”
Cheongunryong blinked. He slowly turned his body to the side. I walked past him without hesitation, still pressing the back of my head, and started down the stairs.
“….”
Halfway down I turned and looked up at Cheongunryong, who was watching me.
“The reason you’re tied to this place—is it the debt? Is that really the only reason?”
“…?!”
It struck him square in the heart. His cold, lofty face flushed as if it would burst.
“W-what business is that of yours!”
“Honestly, until now it wasn’t any of my business.”
I muttered, red eyes flashing.
“But it looks like it’s about to become my business.”
“What do you mean by that.”
“And there’s something you’re mistaken about.”
I blasted red light from my eyes as I spoke.
“I’ve felt the preciousness and the terror of money twice as hard as you ever have.”
“What…?”
“So answer me just one thing. Depending on your answer, what I do next will be as different as heaven and earth.”
I looked at him with a cold gaze.
“Is the debt you owe the Ju family the root of every problem you have—and the reason a man who values a martial artist’s pride as much as you do is forced to protect that spoiled brat?”
Our eyes locked. Silent gazes crossed between us. Hellish silence filled the space. The faint groans of the servants with broken limbs drifted up through the second-floor floorboards. Very slightly, Cheongunryong’s head nodded.
“Understood.”
I went down the stairs without looking back and left the inn. Once I had put some distance between myself and the building, I stopped a merchant on the roadside.
“What is it?”
The silk merchant’s eyes went round as he asked.
“Where is the nearest direct merchant group affiliated with the Namgung Family from here?”