I'll Even Sign That Shiny Bald Noggin!
I'll even sign on that shiny bald head of yours!
"Ah, fuck! I'm starving!"
The moment I heard four horsemen were approaching, I bolted up to the ramparts. Sure enough, in the sunset glow down the slope, four cavalrymen were riding toward us, waving a white flag.
"Huh?"
One of them looked familiar. It was one of the commanders I'd spotted during the sniping. His armor was plainer than the guy I'd shot, so I'd overlooked him, but him coming in person meant he was probably high-ranking.
Ah, shit. Should've plugged that bastard.
While I was regretting it, the riders didn't stop, and the soldiers scrambled back into combat readiness.
"Company commander. Shoot?"
Sergeant I Cheol-dong asked with his usual stoic face. I glanced at the white flag one of them held and shook my head.
"Nah. Let's hear 'em out first."
They'd declared war on their own, sure, but shooting enemies under a white flag still pricked my conscience. Even if these fuckers started the shit, rebelled against their company commander, and all that.
"Tomare! Tomare! Tomare!"
As the riders drew closer, our guys shouted stop in Japanese. Some were already cocking their matchlocks, itching to fire.
"Hey! Blast 'em if they twitch!"
White flags could be tricks, so no slacking off.
"Don't shoot! Lower your weapons!"
Then Korean came from the riders. Not ours—theirs.
"We've come to talk! Not to fight!"
Fluent Korean, at that. The Joseon troops buzzed in surprise.
"Hey! Quiet down!"
I barked at them to shut up, then called out to the Japanese milling in front of the fortress.
"Hey, your Korean's pretty damn fluent, huh?"
"Yes! My parents are from Joseon!"
"Guess they weren't the pretty ones in the family? Show us your face."
They all wore helmets and masks, so I couldn't tell who was talking. But one pulled off his mask to show his face.
"This good enough?"
He had that unmistakable Japanese stiffness trying to speak Korean. The vibe screamed it. Looked like his parents really were Korean.
Even if he was fighting for the Japanese side.
"What the...?"
The other soldiers gawked too. Some even got pissed.
"You bastard! How's a Korean siding with the Japanese scums?!"
"You're worse than the Japs!"
"Take that, you heaven-cursed traitor!"
"Hey! Hey! Shut it! We're talking here!"
It took a minute to quiet the rowdy troops. I handed crowd control to Sergeant I Cheol-dong and looked back at the Japanese.
"My parents were lowborn drifters!"
But the black-haired Japanese dude yelled something I didn't give a shit about.
"And what did you Joseon folk ever do for them? If they didn't catch a sword for being beasts, they were lucky—"
"Shut your trap, you lowborn mutt! I'm a eonja kid, so zip it!"
The nerve, throwing status at an eonja like me.
"I don't care why you went over there! Why're you here? If not to surrender, fuck off!"
The black-haired guy stared at me blankly, then asked uncertainly after a few silent seconds.
"Are you... Kim Si-jin by any chance?"
"Huh? You know me?"
"How could I not? Your name's spread beyond Joseon—to Japan and Ming too."
What? I wasn't that handsome.
"Hold on. I'll relay to the captain."
He turned and spoke to the rider in plain armor. Too far and in Japanese to catch the words.
"Kuhahaha!"
The commander burst out laughing after the explanation. He ditched not just the mask but the helmet too, fully exposing his head. Looked mid-thirties, around Lieutenant Na Se-hyeong's age, eyeing me with curiosity.
"@#$%^&*!"
He said something in Japanese while staring at me. The interpreter filled me in.
"He, uh, wants to see the company commander."
Me? Why? Pass.
But opportunity's opportunity.
"Drop your weapons and surrender! Then I'll show my face! Hell yeah!"
I pointed at his freshly shaved dome, leaving just the back tuft—like a true Japanese officer—and hollered.
"I'll even sign that shiny bald noggin!"
The Joseon troops cracked up.
"...!"
Even Sergeant I Cheol-dong's lips twitched.
"Ahahaha!"
But why was he laughing? The black-haired guy looked flustered, so the translation was spot-on. The commander, who'd wanted to see me, just shook his glossy head and chuckled.
Then the interpreter relayed his words.
"Just as rumored—a bold one!"
"And tell him I'm pretty hot too!"
"Y-yes! #$%^&."
"Puhahaha! Ahahaha!"
He slapped his knee, roaring. His riders were shaking with laughter too.
The Japanese commander finally sobered up, fixing me with a serious gaze. The interpreter translated, of course.
"Surrender! We don't want to lose a talent like you here!"
Surrender? Surrender.
"You're the ones waving the white flag? Weren't you here to give up?"
The black-haired guy passed it on. And the reply.
"We're not here to slaughter you! We're under Shimazu clan orders to take this place! If you withdraw quietly, we'll guarantee your safe return home!"
Yeah? Lemme think.
Surrender and get captured, then Joseon and Japan negotiate POWs. But national talks drag on for years...
"No way! I've only got 11 months left till I go home! You'd hold us for over a year!"
Was I nuts? Back home, I'd staked my life on early discharge as a reservist.
Even if I skipped every single training.
Did Joseon even have reservists?
"Still no dice! Got anything else? Spill it!"
"Think more seriously! Even if you hold out, nothing comes of it! You'll just starve trapped in that fortress! You know Tsushima betrayed you already!"
You chewing bastard?
Omonpo was lightly armed for its importance—thanks to being next to Tsushima's capital, Izuha. Heavy weapons near the capital? That's a declaration of war.
So heavies were just one cheonja-chongtong.
The top brass had planned for contingencies via mutual aid pacts. But two hours after lighthouse signals and flares, an hour into combat—no reinforcements from Tsushima.
Well, we hadn't exactly asked permission to invade.
"N-no reinforcements?"
"Tsushima betrayed us?"
"Those guys were Japs too...!"
The troops who'd banked on aid buzzed in panic. I'd held my tongue on purpose.
"Quiet! Quiet! Shut up!"
I yelled to seal their mouths, but the worried looks lingered.
To hide more weakness from the Japanese, I bluffed hard.
"Joseon merchant ships already requested aid at Tsushima! Reinforcements tomorrow or the day after! No—tomorrow! Just hold today and we win!"
Hitakatsu, their main base, was a day's sail. Two days with the alert. Even if Joseon ships night-sailed risking it all, reinforcements by lunch tomorrow at best.
"So, surrendering?"
I turned from the Japanese to our troops.
"Gonna surrender to those punks? The ones who ran when we shot from afar?"
Pre-battle, maybe. But after tasting victory, no way.
Seeing their resolved eyes, I faced the Japanese again.
"We're not."
I stared down confidently.
The black-haired guy conferred with the commander, sighing as he replied.
"He says it's a shame! So, we'll give you time to decide! Till dawn tomorrow—think it over!"
"Told you no!"
"Remember—before sunrise!"
They wheeled their horses like business was done. Watching, I remembered something I'd forgotten.
"Ah! Wait! Hold up—stop! Just a sec!"
The Japanese turned back.
I waved frantically.
"My face! I'll show it! So do me a favor!"
"You surrender?"
"Did I take a bullet to the head?! Surrender my ass! Wait there! Be quick!"
I left the wall, rounded up non-combatants: two medics, two cooks, one supply guy, one lighthouse op.
Once all there, I ordered the gate cracked.
Slipped out with them. Japanese still waited at the gate—but now all dismounted.
"Hang on."
Hands up to signal no fight, I approached. The helmetless commander spotted me, eyes widening.
"@#$#$%^&?"
He muttered something.
"Smaller than expected."
Everyone said that first sight.
Time for a twist.
"Take off my pants and I'm bigger than you!"
"What?!"
The black-haired guy's voice cracked at my cocky reply. The commander laughed like before after hearing it.
Slapping his knee forever, he eyed the non-combatants behind me.
"Why'd you bring them?" the interpreter asked.
"Uh, well."
Hoping he'd get it, I stepped closer to the commander. Locked eyes, pointed at each non-combatant.
"These two heal. These two cook. This one's good with numbers. That one's lighthouse. They don't fight direct. So..."
Trailed off, stepped closer. Glares, growled.
"Touch 'em in battle, I fucking end you. Got it?"
"...!"
The commander grinned, yellow teeth flashing. Not at my joke—the situation amused him.
"He says he will. He'll tell his men—no worries."
Worries? Fuck that. Worry about yourselves.
"@#$%^&."
Message delivered, we turned to leave. But the commander called out.
The black-haired guy translated.
"He has something to show you."
"What? Really stripping? Confident?"
"Not that."
The interpreter shook his head, pulled a wood block from his saddlebag. Plain, perfect for firewood.
"...!"
The commander moved hands to his waist sword. Sharp eyes—no laugh now. I stayed alert.
"...Ha!"
He shouted; the interpreter tossed the block skyward. My eyes followed instinctively—missed the draw.
Ching!
Suddenly, sword out, arm extended. I was dead... nope.
Thud!
The block hit the ground in two pieces. Hole smoking.
"Ooooh."
That was battojutsu. I clapped, impressed.
Our guys behind me buzzed uneasily instead.
These assholes. Can't even appreciate a cool trick.
"Impressed? No one matches our lord in battojutsu."
Strutting like they'd won with one stunt.
But what could I do? I could do similar.
"Do it on me."
"Hm?"
"Toss one at me. No—over there."
Pointed to the empty cliffside. They looked puzzled. Black-hair fetched another block.
"You trained battojutsu too?"
"Nah. Something else. But alone."
Get caught practicing in front of folks, ass-chewing.
"Toss it. Now."
Hands to waist like him, focused. Palm on revolver grip, waiting.
"San, ni!"
Japanese countdown—he tossed.
I waited for apex, snatched trigger, drew with off-hand cocking flintlock.
Bang!
One shot echoed before the fortress.
Block dropped short of landing. Smoking hole.
"Whoa, whoaaa!"
Clap clap clap!
Commander clapped for me now.
Not just him.
"Woooah!"
"Our company commander's the winner!"
"Kuh! Knew it!"
Troops behind cheered after awe.
I blew smoke from the barrel.
"Pew! How's that? Cool, right?"
Army wastes more time than ammo. Practicing stunts like this leveled me up.
First air-hit, though.
"Kuhahaha!"
Commander clutched his gut at my pose. Sheathing his sword, he approached boldly.
"Ichiki Daki-hiro."
"Yeah. Kim Si-jin."
"@#$%^&."
I caught the name.
"He sincerely wants your surrender."
"Told you no." I holstered, refusing again.
"Surrender."
Black-hair eyed me seriously.
"You know it. You can't stop our army. Even that gate falls tomorrow."
"Why so clingy? Man up."
I smirked at him, scanned the Japanese, turned.
"Business done? Beat it. Mine too. Bye."
I led non-combatants back inside, wondering if he'd really brought that block just for battojutsu.