The Oirat Prisoners Rise Up
It's always the ones with long tails that get caught. That fucking little bastard! If it weren't for him, I'd have washed my hands of this shit by now, gotten married, and had kids already!
Kim Su-dong thought back to the boy who'd landed him here as he dug into the earth with his shovel. He'd gone in carefree because the concubine was living alone with her son, but that kid turned out to be a complete monster. The brothers who'd raided with him had their arms and legs broken or ended up half-paralyzed by that kid, and he'd gotten his own shoulder shattered. If the magistrate's office hadn't treated him, he'd have been crippled for life.
That bastard cost me six years! Six goddamn years! Even if I dig this frozen ground nonstop for another six, I've still got four more to go!
Thwack! Thwack! He poured his rage into the shovel, but the winter-hardened soil refused to crack.
Kim Su-dong stomped on the blade repeatedly before pausing to catch his breath and glance around.
“……!”
“……!”
“……!”
He and the other convicts were facing off against the barbarian prisoners, all digging furiously. The overseers and guards watched the spectacle with amused eyes.
“You lot! Get a move on!”
“You wanna skip dinner over this?!”
“Brother, which side you betting on?”
“Even among scum like these, gotta go with the Joseon side, right?”
“Don't you remember the barbarians winning last time?”
Kim Su-dong had thought the first four years were manageable. They'd fixed his broken shoulder, fed him three square meals a day even if they were meager, gave him a straw mat to crash on, let him rest one day after six of work. His fury toward that kid had faded, leaving him just counting down to his release.
But two years ago, when the war prisoners arrived and the chief overseer changed, everything went to hell. Jeong Su-dal, the guy sent from the Ministry of Public Works, started off acting like a normal official. He stuck to the guidelines from Hanyang and didn't overstep his authority.
Then, a little over half a year in, he showed his true colors. He pitted the Joseon convicts against the barbarian prisoners, rewarding the side that met quota first. It boosted morale at first, but over time, it twisted into something ugly.
Initially, they just declared the first to finish the quota the winner. Then they skipped rewards but upped meals for winners and cut them for losers. Now, the reward was the meal itself.
At least they still served food. Equipment, clothes, medicine? The losing side got screwed out of those more often than not.
“Done here!”
“No! Here! Thud! Thud!”
At that moment, the Joseon convicts and barbarian prisoners shouted almost in unison.
Kim Su-dong turned to look at the overseers. They'd been lounging and betting in a quiet spot, now strolling down to the site at a leisurely pace.
“Hmmm……”
“Sluuuurp……”
“Ooooh……”
Even to Kim Su-dong's eyes, the overseers were dragging their feet, inspecting the scene on purpose. They seemed to relish how every move split the workers' joy and despair.
“Hmmm. Alright. It's decided.”
The deputy overseer nodded. Kim Su-dong knew he'd side with the Joseon side. Unless the barbarians finished way ahead, the deputy always picked them.
“Joseon! Victory!”
His prediction held true. As the deputy declared the Joseon convicts the winners, cheers and groans erupted.
“Hell yeah! Dinner time!”
“Why! Why! Why! Again! Do it again!”
“Why, you barbarian fucks?”
“No! No! Oirat! Victory! Oirat! Victory!”
But the barbarians' reaction was fiercer than usual. Kim Su-dong figured they'd just complain and move on—they starved often but pilfered from nearby villages.
“Why.”
The Oirat prisoners' leader, Burat, approached the deputy. The deputy didn't flinch even facing a man two heads taller.
“How could you lose? Can't you see that rock?”
The rock he pointed to was kid-head-sized. You could kick it away easily.
Burat picked it up and asked again. “Oirat victory now?”
Now Kim Su-dong sensed something off. Burat's gleaming eyes hinted at trouble. But the deputy didn't.
“Hey! I already said Joseon wins! With dullards like you—”
“Graaaah!”
The deputy never finished. Burat smashed the rock down on his head with a roar.
“Urk!”
The deputy collapsed in agony, convulsing on the ground, never to rise. Everyone froze like ice.
“Warriors!”
But not Burat. He raised the bloodied rock high and bellowed, shaking the world.
“Fight!”
One word flipped the Oirats' eyes to bloodlust. The guards fumbled to light their matchlocks' fuses, but the prisoners were faster.
“Th-these mad bastards!”
“Die, you Joseon scum! Die!”
“Aaaah! H-help!”
“……!”
In the sudden revolt, Kim Su-dong bolted for the woods, forgetting execution awaited escapees. Other Joseon convicts fled too, pursued by some Oirats.
It's always the ones with long tails that get caught. I never thought Eori and I could sneak around forever unnoticed. But I never imagined it'd spiral like this.
“Son?”
I was digesting breakfast with a light read of a military tactics book when Mom called, entering the room.
“Yeah, Mom? What's up?”
I'd been sprawled out reading, so I scrambled up and fixed my posture.
“……”
But Mom didn't scold my flustered sitting. She sat before me, voice laced with worry.
“Do you want to marry Eori that badly?”
What? Had Mom finally come around to my feelings?
“Even enough to run off to the mountains and live there?”
“……Pardon?”
Her out-of-left-field words furrowed my brow. Thinking she'd hit the mark, she soothed me.
“Son, Mom knows how you feel. But you can't decide life so rashly, right?”
“No, Mom—”
“Hear Mom out. See, Mom—”
“What're you suddenly on about?”
“Huh?”
“Why would I ditch our perfectly good house to set up a bridal chamber in the mountains?”
Mom's gentle expression soured slightly. Then she spilled why she'd come.
“You didn't steal grain to elope with Eori and hide in the mountains, did you?”
“Why the hell would I steal it?!”
“It wasn't you?”
“No!”
We'd sold the tiger meat and bones for enough rice-money to fill the house. Any sane guy would've bought his own house and grain with that, not steal.
“What's this all of a sudden? Where'd you hear that crap?”
“No, the neighbors are all saying it. That you sneak out every night to meet Eori and steal grain.”
“Uh.”
“Is it true?”
“W-well, I do sneak out every night to see Eori, yeah. But I didn't steal any grain!”
“Right? Mom believes you.”
Sounds like something you say when you don't believe! Wait. Hold up.
“Mom. Who said grain was stolen?”
“Not you?”
“I said no! And I think I saw the thief once.”
“Really?”
“For real. Mom, it was dark, so I didn't see clear—just heard him. The sounds.”
“Not lying?”
“You just said you believed me five minutes ago.”
Hurt by her doubt, I recalled the rustle during our tryst with Eori a few days back. And my cocky solo rant.
Ah, shit. That thief probably heard it too. What'd he think of me? Talking big about stringing up bows and shooting arrows.
“So if not you, there's a thief in Hwacheok Village.”
It wasn't just my embarrassment anymore. Stealing grain bit by bit now, but he might come with a blade for robbery later.
“Rebellion! It's a rebellion! The barbarians have revolted!”
A terrified shout came from beyond the door. Mom and I stopped, staring at the paper window.
“This is bad. Thief in the village, and now a madman shows up.”
“Yeah. Maybe he's the thief? I'll go check.”
“Be careful. Just look.”
I knew drooling dogs scare me more than barking ones. I stepped out but stayed on the porch, peering over the wall.
“Rebellion! Hurry to the magistrate! The barbarians have risen!”
Sheesh, this lunatic. Barbarians? Way up north. Might as well say pirates.
He was plump like he'd lived well till he snapped, wild hair flying as he ran yelling.
“Hey!”
Then he locked eyes with me and pointed wildly.
“Ch-Chaekho Boy! You're the Tiger-Slaying Boy, right?!”
“Nope. Wrong guy.”
“It is you! It's me! Me! We met a few days ago!”
“No. Hey! Mister! Don't just barge in!”
I tried ducking back inside to avoid trouble, but the nutjob flung open our gate.
“No! Mister! I said don't come in! This is our house! Not yours!”
I rushed down to the yard to block him. He grabbed my shoulders, reeking of rotten breath, pleading desperately.
“You! Take me to the magistrate! Quick! The barbarians could strike anytime!”
“Ugh! Mister! Your feet stink!”
“This ain't the time for jokes! What're you doing? Escort me there now!”
“What bullshit is this, huh?”
I scowled, then realized I'd seen him before. Puffy cheeks ready to burst, catfish-whisker mustache, slit eyes. Yeah, a dead ringer for a catfish.
“Wait, aren't you from the Ministry...?”
“Oho! Yes! That's me! Now you recognize? Me! Jeong Su-dal, Ministry Clerk! Hurry, take me to the magistrate! We must go!”
The noble who'd boozed with the magistrate was now beggar-ragged. Earrings gone, dried blood scabbed his lobes; ring-festooned fingers now missing a pinky.
“What happened?”
“Rebellion, I said! The Oirats revolted! They'll cross the mountains! Take me to the magistrate! Now!”
“What Oirats south of Hanyang? Oh, right. Crazy.”
Northern Oirats were around—Joseon troops had brought POWs to labor with convicts on nearby roads.
“Now you get it? Hurry! They could hit anytime!”
And the project's chief overseer trembled before me like a beggar.