Don't You See the Shitstorm You Caused?
In the center of Hwacheok Village stood a large open square. It served as a playground for the children and a meeting place for the adults to decide on village matters big and small. Today was no different.
"Last night, the laborers at the road construction site rebelled."
"H-how many were there, Chaekho Dongja-nim?"
"Uh, well... Haaah...!"
I was so flabbergasted that the words wouldn't come out right. I shot a sidelong glare at the catfish bastard, who was still shaking like a leaf even after getting treated, before answering.
"There were fifty Joseon prisoner convicts, and just over sixty barbarian prisoners."
This crazy son of a bitch. You didn't feed over a hundred people—not just one or two? It's a miracle he only lost a finger and got away.
"What do we do now?"
I swallowed my boiling rage and looked up at the adults of Hwacheok Village. Including Eori's father, the village's richest man, they were the ones who had led everyone here even before we settled.
"What do you mean 'what do we do'? We have to report it to the magistrate's office right away!"
But it wasn't one of the village elders who spoke—it was the catfish bastard. He shouted with puffed-up bravado, as if he thought he was some high-ranking official even in Hwacheok Village.
"Hey! You idiots! Didn't I tell you the barbarians were coming? We don't know when they'll attack! Are we just gonna sit here yapping? We need to head to the magistrate's office now!"
The catfish bastard was right. Unable to hold back my anger, I stepped forward and slammed my fist into his greedy gut.
Thwack!
"Guhk?!"
It felt like punching a water balloon, but it landed solid. The catfish bastard clutched his belly and crumpled to the ground. His upturned eyes were a mix of tears and bewilderment.
"Hey, you insane bastard."
I squatted down in front of the groveling prick, matching his eye level. Staring into his paling face, I packed every ounce of sincerity into my words.
"Can't you see the fucking shitstorm you've caused in our village? If you're not gonna clean it up, shut your damn mouth and stay quiet. Got it?"
"Y-yes, how dare you...!"
"Say one more word. I'll cut your head off and blame it on the barbarians."
"!"
Now his face wasn't just pale—it was turning green. I savored his trembling, pudding-like cheeks a bit longer before standing up and apologizing. Naturally, it was to the village elders.
"I'm sorry, elders. I got too worked up."
"Aigoo, why go that far, sir? You're a high noble."
"Young master, our Chaekho Dongja-nim has a temper like a tiger's. Please forgive him. I'll apologize on his behalf."
They lightly scolded me and moved on to the main topic.
"What if we take everyone and flee far from the village?"
"We don't even know if the barbarians are really coming here."
"We should tell the magistrate's office about the barbarians rising up too."
"What do you think, Chaekho Dongja-nim?"
Eh? Me?
I'd only planned to relay the catfish bastard's words, so I panicked and looked around at the elders. Not just Eori's father, who had asked, but all the village elders were waiting for my answer.
"Uh, well, I..."
I thought for a moment, piecing together passages from military treatises I'd read with the information we had so far.
"I think we should defend the village against the barbarians' invasion."
"Why do you think that? They don't even know our village is here."
"They know. The thief who broke into our village works for those barbarians."
"What?!"
"It's not certain, but the odds are..."
"Wasn't it you, Chaekho Dongja-nim?!"
"Why are you surprised about that? It wasn't me!"
Starting with one elder, the villagers began to murmur.
"Aigoo, I gave rice thinking it was Chaekho Dongja-nim."
"Rice? We gave eggs."
"Wasn't that dried persimmon you took last time really you, sir?"
"I told you it wasn't!"
I was grateful they'd offered precious food thinking it was for me, but being treated like a thief was another matter.
"I did sneak out at night to meet Eori, but I didn't steal any food. Why would I, when we have plenty at home?"
"Weren't you planning to run off to the mountains with Little Blackie?"
"No! Look, I'm going to Hanyang anyway to get the king's permission, so why would I—uh."
I was grumbling so much from sheer absurdity that I realized too late what I'd let slip. I clamped my mouth shut, but the important part had already reached the villagers' ears.
"You're even telling the king?"
"He must be serious."
"At this point, just give him permission."
The village elders—especially the aunties—gave me sly grins. Mortified and face burning, I hurriedly steered back to the topic.
"Anyway! That's why I say we hunker down in the village. The barbarians already know where we are! And right now, they need something we have—food."
According to the catfish bastard, he'd rationed food "efficiently" to make them work. Efficient my ass—it meant he'd pocketed the leftovers. Either way, the barbarians were starving now. Even if they raided the warehouse after rebelling, it wouldn't be enough to fill everyone's bellies—because he had siphoned it off beforehand.
"Argh, that motherfucker."
Try as I might to hold it in, the curses spilled out. I glared at the root of this mess once more and continued.
"The barbarians know it too—that Joseon troops will come for them in a few days. They'll want to bolt to the mountains before then, but that takes a shitload of food. A ton of it."
Even assuming the Joseon convicts joined them, that's over a hundred people. Our village warehouse has enough to feed that many for over a month. Plus, we're the closest village to the construction site.
"But shouldn't we still inform the magistrate's office?"
Excellent point. Even if we fortify, we can't hold out long against a barbarian attack. Two or three days at most—beyond that, we'd need the officials' help.
"Pick a few quick runners and—"
"No. The barbarians know how important messengers are. Anyone leaving the village might get killed. And we can't waste manpower recklessly in this situation."
Hwacheok Village had just over 130 people. Half were women, and of the rest, a third were kids or elders. That left fewer than 30 able-bodied men who could fight.
Whoa, seriously. Thank god this is Joseon. True to the land of bows, everyone except the tiniest kids knew how to shoot.
So, put the able-bodied up front, and have adult women and the elderly shoot from the rear...! Ah, fuck. Still not enough.
Hwacheok folk were exempt from military service, so they were all civilians. Women naturally too. Over 50 untrained folks facing 100 enemies in real combat? Tough.
At least the adults were Hwacheok natives—hunters from the mountains, so they handled weapons well enough.
"But we can't not tell the magistrate. Once the troops arrive, things will settle, and we'll be safe."
"Yes, that's true. But we don't need to sacrifice anyone for it. We can signal the magistrate from here."
"How?"
"By lighting a beacon fire."
"..."
"No, wait. Don't look at me like that. I'm not saying burn the village. We'll make a temporary beacon in the central square. That way, the magistrate will know something's up."
The elders nodded, liking my idea. Then one furrowed his brow.
"Chaekho Dongja-nim, what if we don't fight and everyone just runs? When I was young, we escaped government pursuits that way."
And that's why you got caught and live here now.
"Sorry, but no. Any army is most vulnerable on the move. If the barbarians ambush us while fleeing, win or lose, we'll take heavy casualties."
We were short on people as it was—better to hole up with solid cover. On the road? Rocks, trees, or dead bodies. And we'd have to yield those to kids and elders.
"And I'm not saying we have to fight."
They must've misunderstood my fortification talk as eagerness for battle. My goal was minimal casualties, not combat.
"The barbarians don't want to fight us either. They need to flee to the mountains ASAP and can't waste time on us before the troops arrive. And look."
I pointed at Eori's father mid-sentence.
"Are they crazy? Would they pick a fight with someone built like that?"
He towered over most grown men, with bulging muscles, a thick beard, and massive eyes. In the dark, you'd mistake him for a bear.
"Hahaha! True that!"
It wasn't just Eori's father. The other Hwacheok men were shorter but just as burly and muscled.
"If the barbarians come asking for rice, we give it. Livestock, food—unless it's too much, just hand it over. People are the priority, right? But prepare to fight just in case. Sound good?"
Before I could even finish asking, the elders had decided. They exchanged glances confirming agreement and turned to me.
"Chaekho Dongja-nim, what do we do?"
"Me?"
"We'll follow your lead."
"Uh, alright then."
I hadn't expected them to actually listen, so I was a bit flustered. Still, I racked my brain for village defenses.
Hwacheok Village was a planned settlement—square from above. The perimeter walls were higher than inside to keep out invaders, but climbable.
"You still have that hangover remedy? The one from the royal decree. Drink it if you haven't."
Short on manpower, better not to stretch defenses thin—let them breach if they must. But I wasn't handing it over easy.
"Smash the jars and line the inside of the outer walls. Sharpen stakes from wood too. What about scarecrows on the outer roofs? From outside, they'd look like people."
"We'll do that. What if we put real people up there too?"
"Good idea, but risky. Too visible. Block the east, west, and south gates with wagons in three layers—set the outermost on fire. North gate two layers, no fire."
"Why only two at the north gate?"
"To funnel the enemy there. With few numbers, narrow the defense line. That's efficient. How many weapons do we have?"
"Thirty hunting spears at least. Bows and arrows? Not sure."
"Inventory them precisely. We're limited on men and supplies—use them right. And the beacon—straw's best?"
"Yes, smoke from straw shows far. But Chaekho Dongja-nim, what about the kids and elders?"
"The communal warehouse next door. Shelter them there—walls and roof block arrows. No time—move fast and precise."
My heart pounded as I laid out the best defense plans I could think of. Whether fortunate or not, the elders nodded without protest.
That fucking prick.
I crossed my arms to hide my shaking hands and glared at the catfish bastard. All the plans came from my mouth, but if shit hit the fan, I'd pin it all on him.
"...!"
Of course, blaming him didn't calm my nerves. My jaw started trembling too, so I clenched my teeth and looked to the sky, praying this was all just my overreaction.