Do You Want My Chastity Too?
Are you taking my chastity yourselves? What the hell did I do wrong? I'd bowed deeply to Mom, gotten a tearful send-off from Eori, even paid my respects to Kim Jin-sa out of courtesy. No matter how you sliced it, I hadn't fucked up big time anywhere.
"Kehhehehe! If you don't wanna die, hand over your valuables!"
But why the fuck did I run into bandits on the road?
"Hey! If you wanna live, it'd be smart to beg nicely!"
"Just know it'd be easier for us to kill you and take it all!"
Purrrrlk!
The horse panicked at the bandits' sudden appearance, snorting and tossing its head. I kept a firm grip on the reins, stroking its neck to calm it while eyeing the thugs blocking my front and back.
The two in front each held spears as tall as themselves, and the one in the rear was nocking an arrow to his bow.
"Uh, well, you see."
I was so flustered I could barely speak. After gulping down dry spit a few times, I finally voiced the question flooding my mind.
"Can't you see this?"
I gripped the eosageom at my waist. Without drawing the blade, I just held the hilt up for the bandits front and back to see.
"And I've got a bow here too."
It wasn't just the sword. On the opposite side of my belt hung a quiver full of arrows and a bow. Any idiot could tell I was either a martial artist or aspiring one.
"Heh heh heh. Yeah, we see it."
So they weren't blind.
"We see somethin' valuable."
Nope. Their eyes were just blinded by greed.
The bow might not scream wealth at a glance, but the eosageom's scabbard—made from leopard tail—was an obvious luxury item.
"You bastard! Wanna live? Then hand over everything except your life!"
"Everything but my life?"
"That's right!"
"Does that mean you're taking my chastity yourselves?"
The leering bandits in front flinched for a split second. No clue what the rear guy was thinking, but a reaction came quick.
"What kinda lunatic is this?! You think we're a joke?!"
"No, that's not—"
The most dangerous one right now was the bastard aiming his bow at my back. I raised both hands—still holding the reins—to signal surrender. I tossed out a joke to play it cool, but my heart was pounding like mad.
I'd barely passed the academy entrance exam, and here I was about to die before even seeing the opening ceremony.
Alternating glances front and back, I made the offer they might refuse.
"Hey, I get that you're all working pros here. So how about I give you a fair bit and we call it even?"
"Heh heh heh. Yeah, a fair bit. Drop everything you own and scram. That's fair."
Looks like our definitions of "fair" differed wildly.
"Hey now."
One of the front bandits approached, using his spear like a walking stick. His tone was polite, but his twisted smirk dripped mockery.
"Best give up on talkin' your way out. There's a bow trained on you from behind, so quit the nonsense. Just hand over everything nice and easy. We're not so cowardly as to shoot you in the back."
What bullshit. Three-on-one wasn't cowardly?
The bandit stopped three or four paces away. My sword wouldn't reach if I drew, but his spear sure as hell would.
"Leave the sword, the bow, and the horse behind and go."
His spear tip pointed at my body parts and the horse in sequence, like he'd skewer us if I didn't comply right now.
"You sure that's smart? Know what kinda sword this is?"
I drew the sheathed eosageom from my belt and showed it off. The bandit facing me nodded with a sleazy grin, true to form.
"I know. Real valuable, ain't it."
"No, this is an eosageom."
"Hah hah hah. Lyin' to keep it, eh?"
"It's real. No lie. Here."
I extended the sheathed eosageom in my left hand while resting my right on the belt where my quiver hung, then stepped closer.
"Heh heh heh. Wise choice."
The bandit kept his spear aimed at me and snatched the eosageom.
Opportunity.
I grabbed the spear shaft with my free hand and lunged forward. At the same time, my right hand whipped out the short sword at my waist.
This decorative blade usually went unsharpened, but not mine.
Puk! Puk!
The honed edge pierced the bandit's left gut effortlessly.
Puk!
Even easier through the throat—no clothing to snag.
"Guhk?!"
Only after the blade—finger-length—exited his neck did he react. He dropped the spear and eosageom, clutching the hole, but bright red blood poured between his fingers like a mountain stream.
"You fu—?!"
"That little shit!"
The bandits—who'd been casually watching till I handed over the sword—cursed from front and back.
Figuring the bowman behind was drawing his string, I hurled the blood-slick short sword at the front bastard.
"Whoa!"
He flinched instinctively at the flying blade spraying blood.
I charged through the gap. Before he could react, I drop-kicked his chest with all my strength.
Thud!
"Gahk!"
The bandit dropped his spear and tumbled across the dirt. I hit the ground too, but no time to groan in pain. Ignoring the agony, I snatched up the fallen spear.
Beyond the staggering, throat-gushing bandit, I spotted the archer aiming this way.
"Shoot me, you dog!"
I bolted to the dying bandit and hid behind him. Aside from his bloody hands shoving weakly, he made a perfect shield.
"Hey! Shoot! Do it quick!"
Twang!
"Kuuhk?!"
...He actually shot.
The near-dead bandit jerked violently with a groan. Shield duty over.
"You shoot just 'cause I say so, you moron?!"
I shoved him aside for a clear line of sight. The last bandit was nocking his next arrow.
Before he could draw, I took a few running steps and hurled the spear with everything I had.
"Hup!"
The spear flew straight and true. The archer stared blankly at it hurtling toward him, debating whether to dodge or fire in hope.
But in battle, where a hair's breadth decides life or death, hesitation was a luxury.
The spear tip pierced his chest clean through. He toppled backward with a proper death rattle.
"...Hah! Hah! Hah! Hah!"
Only as he crashed amid the dust did I realize I'd been holding my breath.
"Ahh! Fuck!"
My heart thundered like it was in my skull, but irritation surged anyway. Killing wasn't new to me, but it sure as shit wasn't fun.
"You fuckin' bastard!"
Luckily, I still had someone to vent on. I turned to the downed, bleeding thug sprawled like he owned the place. He wasn't moving. Hands barely on his throat and gut, dilated pupils fixed on the sky—he was gone.
"Told you to take it easy and go. Fuckin' dog."
I'd offered money, damn it. Greed got him this mess.
Muttering curses, I picked up the fallen eosageom and rebuckled it. Then I approached the one with my bootprint on his chest.
"M-mercy, s-sir! I've committed a mortal sin!"
Was he begging to live or die? The lone survivor kowtowed repeatedly, even smashing his forehead into the dirt.
"Hah, hah, hey."
For safety, I spoke from four or five paces away.
"Face down. Flat on the ground, belly first."
"Y-yes! Yes! Mercy!"
"Shut up before I change my mind. Just do what I say."
"Yes, big bro!"
"Fuck. Who's your big bro? You look older than me."
"Sorry, little bro!"
"Quiet. Right foot on left, hands clasped behind your head. Or you die."
I recalled Hollywood cops using this restraint. And one partner's death at the end.
Ah, shit! I almost died!
What the hell was this? Nearly croaked before even seeing my kid's face.
The thought, mingled with blood on my hands, spiked my rage again. But I didn't kill the last one. Would've made me a psycho. Plus, who cleans up if I off 'em all?
I gathered the scattered weapons. Slid the bloody short sword back into its scabbard too. Now for the rest...
"Hey. On your feet."
"Y-yes?"
"Up, you shit. Get up."
"Yes!"
He sprang up, kicking up dust. I pointed at the mess with the spear under my arm.
"See your dead pals here?"
"N-not pals! F-first time seein' 'em today!"
"Good. Easier to decapitate then."
"Uh, w-well..."
In Joseon battles, you reported heads. Normally, I'd hack these off and haul 'em to Jeonju's magistrate. But it grossed me out. Not a little—a lot.
"Hey. Go cut your not-pals' heads off."
I drew the concealed dagger from my chest and tossed it at his feet. Made for stabbing, but sharp enough for necks.
"Try anything funny, and you're dead. Think I won't kill you?"
"N-no, sir! No way! Right away!"
He shook his ashen head furiously and grabbed the dagger.
"Hurry. Ten minutes or you join 'em."
"Yes, sir!"
Not taking eyes off him, I backed toward the horse.
Purrrrlk! Purrrrlk!
The horse tossed its head anxiously. I stroked it calm, putting distance between us.
The bandit glanced my way, hands trembling wildly, but methodically severed his comrades' heads.
I had no idea then.
This mess would lead me to meet one more historical figure.