Dragged into the Ssireum Ring
It was bound to be intense. During Dano, one thing you couldn't miss was ssireum—traditional Korean wrestling. The adults around me lit up at the mention, and even Eori gazed at me with eyes full of anticipation.
"Master, are you entering the ssireum?"
"Nah? Why would I?"
Why the hell would I? The idea of stripping down to shorts and slamming skin against skin with some guy, huffing and puffing? Just imagining it gave me goosebumps.
"Why not?!"
I said I wasn't going, and this punk Seong-bae was throwing a fit. He'd clearly assumed I would, stammering as he spoke.
"You have to! Why wouldn't you!"
"'Cause I don't want to."
"Come on! Wrestle me!"
"No thanks."
Yun Seong-bae was thirteen but built like an adult, the undisputed ssireum king of this district—at least among kids. Even among grown men, few could take him down. Wrestle that guy? I'd rather fight those beggar punks again.
"Si-jin."
"Why don't you reconsider?"
"Son."
The adults were even more insistent than the one who'd be wrestling.
"Come on! Wrestle me!"
"Master...."
Of course, kids were no different. Though Seong-bae was a bit hard to call a kid with that build.
"I'm not entering the ssireum."
"Huh? The Tiger-Slaying Boy isn't wrestling?"
Now even the adults who'd been watching the matchlock demo were in an uproar.
"Tiger-Slaying Boy, you're not wrestling today? Come on, why not?"
"Tiger-Slaying Boy! If you enter today, I'll buy you yeot candy. Yeot—or anything else you want!"
"Aw, man! It'd be fun if the Tiger-Slaying Boy joined! This is gonna suck! Tsk tsk!"
"I'm not wrestling! And stop calling me that!"
The adults who'd been watching the matchlock firepower demo now surrounded me, urging me to join. But I'd already made up my mind not to, and their constant use of that nickname was pissing me off.
"I'm not doing it!"
I could guess why. A prodigy who tossed grown men like ragdolls had just beaten five beggars without breaking a sweat. A matchup like that? Hell, even I'd want to see it. But there was one problem: the handsome, filial, smart, and badass guy in question was me.
"No way! How am I supposed to fight that guy? You think I can beat him?"
"That's what makes it exciting, right?"
"Hey! Don't talk like you know—you're not the one in it!"
"You look like you could hold your own."
"I said don't talk like you know!"
"Hey, you scared?"
More than the egging-on crowd, it was Seong-bae's mocking question that left me dumbfounded. I nodded vigorously at the punk who'd caused all this mess.
"Of course I am! If you were me! If some house-sized brute comes demanding a wrestle, would you do it?!"
"Hell yeah! Obviously!"
"You would? Even knowing he'd grab your shorts, crush you like this, and hurl you into the next field?"
"N-no?"
"Exactly! No way! I'm not crazy!"
I mimed crumpling paper in my hand and tossing it far away. Seong-bae, taking it as praise, smirked slyly.
"Hey! What's going on over there!"
Just then, a stranger's voice boomed from afar. It was the instructor who'd been leading the constables moments ago. He must've thought something was up with the crowd gathering.
"No, sir! Master!"
This was my chance. He'd come from Hanyang recently to train the local constables on firearms. A Hanyang guy should understand my plight, so I rushed over and snitched.
"Master! The villagers keep forcing me into something I don't want to do!"
"What's that?"
"They keep pushing me to enter the ssireum!"
"Ssireum? Who with?"
"That guy! Claims he's thirteen!"
Thinking the instructor would back me up, I pointed at Seong-bae. He glanced between us, tilting his head.
"That'll be a fierce match."
"Sir?!"
"I'll root for you. Give it your all. Got it?"
"I don't get it at all!"
"Hahaha! This place isn't boring after all!"
"No, sir! Wait! Master!"
But the instructor headed straight for the tent where the soldiers waited. I couldn't chase after him and stood there dazed as the crowd closed in again.
"Tiger-Slaying Boy! Even that high official expects great things! You can't let him down!"
"Exactly! Here, have some yeot! Win first place, and I'll give you double!"
"I'm betting on the Tiger-Slaying Boy! You gotta win! The odds are two-to-one on you!"
Bets were already on?! I hadn't even agreed yet?! These dirty, sneaky adults had me pegged as entering already. I popped the yeot they'd just given me into my mouth and headed to my mom.
"Mom! Can't you tell everyone I'm not wrestling? I don't wanna go!"
"Oh? Why not?"
"I dunno! I just don't wanna, but they keep—"
"Why not enter, son?"
"......"
Was this how Conan Doyle felt killing off Sherlock Holmes?
"Hey! Si-jin! We're not asking you to go empty-handed!"
Hyeong-bang approached as I tried to drown my bitter betrayal in the yeot's sweetness. His eyes were bloodshot, more intense than when he'd tried making me his deputy.
"One win gets you a seom of rice! First place: two fans! Second: one fan! Third: a mal of rice! Tempting, right? Come on!"
Fans? These weren't cheap plastic promo things from academies. They were luxury items—thin, tough hanji paper with bamboo ribs hand-glued one by one. Sure, in this Joseon loaded with imports, not impossible to buy, but still pricey. And without electricity here, they were basically fans or AC units. Tempting, yeah.
"You really giving fans?"
"Yep! Absolutely!"
"Do your best out there, and I'll just hand you one! No strings!"
"Son, isn't it a bit hot? Oh my, so stuffy."
The adults nodded eagerly, eyes sparkling, while Mom fanned herself dramatically despite the mild weather. In the end, like at that crime scene, I had no choice but to nod.
"Fine. I'll do it."
"Hahaha! That's my boy, Si-jin! I knew you had it in you!"
"Excellent choice, Tiger-Slaying Boy!"
They cheered like I'd already won the whole thing just for agreeing. Worried I'd change my mind, they hustled me straight to the ssireum field.
Preparations were in full swing there. Not that it was elaborate—just sand spread on the ground to cushion falls, with colored sand outlining the boundaries.
"Hey! You come from watching that matchlock demo? How was it?"
"Insane! Boom-boom-boom! The earth shook, white smoke everywhere! Scary as hell!"
More people were waiting here for the ssireum than had watched the demo. They chatted about the matchlocks while sneaking glances our way.
"What? They brought him? Thought he wouldn't show."
"How could they not? Bribed him with yeot!"
"Man, today's match'll be epic!"
Usually, kids' matches happened first, quietly attended only by relatives—like a talent show warm-up. Not today.
"Tiger-Slaying Boy's really entering, right?"
"Yeah! Told you! Dol-soe said he dragged him!"
"See? There he is!"
Soon after we arrived, people from other villages poured in. Before long, it felt like the adult finals—packed.
Whoa. No wonder they were so desperate to drag me here. If they hadn't, they'd have been lynched. Everyone from this district, plus outsiders, had come to watch.
I prepared for ssireum under hundreds of stares.
"That's the Tiger-Slaying Boy?"
"Him? Why's he so tiny?"
"Face is pretty cute, though."
"......!"
Even shameless me flushed under that many eyes. Especially shirtless for wrestling.
"Tiger-Slaying Boy. In ssireum, a solid belly grip is key. Got it? Belly grip."
Eori's dad—not my mom—tied my shorts tight around my thighs as he spoke. He was one of those who'd pushed me into this, grinning excitedly.
"Haaaah...."
"Whoa! No sighing, Tiger-Slaying Boy! Bad luck!"
"Feels like it's already gone. Seeing who he's up against."
"Haha! True that. His opponents' luck ran off the moment they heard."
"......!"
Meanwhile, Eori hovered nearby, face red, hands covering it—but peeking at my torso through her fingers.
"E-Eori."
"Y-yes? Master? Oh, I-I wasn't looking, sir!"
"No, uh, look somewhere else?"
"N-no, sir! I wasn't!"
Memories of shirtless pool hangs in modern times dulled my embarrassment. But Eori's sneaky peeks and blush got to me a bit.
"Haaaah, fuuuuh...."
I took deep breaths to steady my nerves. Since I was entering this thing, no way was I planning to lose.