The Greatest Monster Among Modern Men
Among all us modern souls here, you're the real monster. Munjong had heard my answer that I wouldn't return to the palace, yet he didn't budge. Instead, he demanded a drinking setup like he owned the place.
"H-here it is, Your Highness."
Yi In-su brought it over—the Crown Prince's share, his own, and even mine.
"Huh? I get to drink too?"
"Hm? Is this your first time with alcohol?"
"Yes, Your Highness. Never touched it in this lifetime."
"Haha! Then this is your chance! Here, drink up! Magistrate! You first!"
"Y-yes, what an honor, Your Highness."
I'd been craving the dinner Eori was going to feed me, but now I was sharing drinks with two guys. Still, I went along without complaint, sipping whatever they poured.
"Hngh... ugh... Your Highness... such graaace...!"
"Pfft?! Drag this fool out of here!"
Yi In-su had chugged whatever was handed to him. Tense from the Crown Prince's visit, he'd drowned his nerves in booze. Servants hauled him away, leaving just me and Munjong.
With fellow modern folks alone, talk naturally turned to our old lives—where we'd lived, how we'd scraped by, how we'd kicked the bucket. Surprisingly, Munjong had been from the same region as me, three years older. He'd dented his professor's car on the way to grad school and nearly torched the place when they called the existing scratch his fault.
Even wilder: every other modern person here knew him. Jang Yong-sil and Choe Gong-son from the Military Armory, Hwang Chi-sin from the Treasury, Yi Sun-ji from the Hall of Studies, Jeon Nae-heon from the medical academy. Everyone but Jeon was a high school classmate; he was his cousin.
But the real kicker? The tech revolution they were sparking tied straight back to their majors. Jang in mechanical engineering, Choe in chemistry, Hwang in economics, Yi in education, Jeon in emergency medicine.
Me? Korean literature major...
"That's why I figured I'd just lay low. What tech does Korean lit have? What knowledge? I can't even compare to those guys."
"Pfft?!"
Booze-fogged and rambling, I froze as Munjong spat out his drink. Choking, he demanded,
"You... you... you're serious?"
"Huh? Of course. I never say anything but the truth."
"No. Dude. Heh, damn! Heh!"
No matter how drunk, those words were pure sincerity. Munjong let out disbelieving chuckles, grabbed a snack, chewed thoughtfully, and said,
"Look, straight talk: among us modern transplants, you're the biggest monster."
"Me? Why am I a monster? Too handsome?"
"Heh! Handsome is me! History books call me a looker! See? Total Guan Yu vibes!"
"Uh, yeah. Guan Yu. Sure. Totally."
"Am I nuts? Backtalking the Crown Prince. Ahem!"
Munjong cleared his throat and picked up where he'd left off.
"Dude. Everything we're using? Straight from our old-world textbooks. But you? No schooling, pure grit got you here."
"Nah, just luck."
"Luck is skill. Think about it. Bandits soloed. New crimes sniffed out. Tiger bagged with two arrows. Village rallied, rebellion crushed. You're... insane!"
He grimaced like even he couldn't believe it. I refilled his cup from the bottle. He downed it and continued.
"Kuh! Bitter! Yeah. You? Wipe your memories, reborn from scratch—you'd still be drinking with me."
"Heh, thanks!"
"Snorting? Drink this!"
"Thanks, Your Highness."
My turn. I raised the brimming cup, sweet and crisp with a tangy bite and bitter finish sliding down my throat.
"Kah! Harsh!"
"Dude, eat something. No endoscopes here—cancer means you're done."
"Got it, Your Highness."
Chopsticks to snack, I chewed in a boozy daze. Munjong suddenly burst out laughing.
"Puhaha! Oh yeah! Dude! You brought a girl to Hanyang?!"
"Uh, yeah. How'd you know?"
"How? Word's all over. You and your towering totem-pole woman."
"My fiancée."
"Oh, right. Sorry, that was harsh. But why bring her?"
Coming from him, "totem pole" stung. But he apologized quick, so I answered.
"Honeymoon slash lovers' elopement."
"Ahahaha! Korea's first honeymoon! Dude, you're centuries ahead of Na Hye-seok!"
"First time hearing of her."
"Eh, fair. But lovers' elopement?"
"Ah, that? Also why I brought Eori."
I spilled it all to Munjong: Eori from the Hwacheok nomads, childhood sweethearts, my birth father Kim Jin-sa's fierce opposition.
"Whoa...!"
When I added dragging her to beg King Sejong's blessing, he clapped and nodded vigorously.
"Dude, I'll stand as your officiant! Your old man won't dare complain."
"While we're here, a royal decree from Sejong wouldn't hurt? Bragging rights."
"So I'm not brag-worthy?"
"Compared to Sejong, well..."
"Ha, you madman. Can't argue that. Oh, but dude."
Exaggerated glare melting into sparkling eyes, corner of his mouth twitching—he dropped the expected line.
"Pretty?"
"Subjective or objective?"
"Objective, idiot."
"Pardon the vulgarity, but she's insanely pretty."
"Dude! That's subjective!"
"No! Dead serious! Objective fact!"
"I heard: nearly nine feet tall! Pitch black skin! Bulging eyes! Lips red like they ate a mouse! All of it!"
"She's gorgeous! Damn, wish I could show you! Truly beautiful!"
"Fine! Since we're on it, show me!"
"..."
Booze haze cleared instantly. Sober now, I poured my cup and said quietly,
"Your Highness."
"Hm? What?"
"Just bragging, but among my gifts today? A few swords too."
"Puhah?! You psycho?! Ahahahaha!"
Only thirty percent joke, but it cracked him up. He rolled on the floor laughing. So loud a guard checked the door.
"Your Highness. Everything alright?"
"Y-yeah! Ha! Fine! Hahaha! Go away! Ahahaha!"
"..."
Slapping the ground now, the guard eyed me. I forced a grin and nodded him off.
"You maniac! Absolute maniac!"
Guard gone, laughter lingered. Finally sitting up, Munjong wiped teary eyes, giggled more, then said,
"Guts hanging out, huh? Funniest death threat ever."
"Just bragging, Your Highness. How'd you twist it? I'm hurt."
"Hurt my ass. But seriously, no peek? I'm dying here."
"Nope."
"Think I'd touch a retainer's wife? I'm not Yeonsangun."
"He did?"
"Yeah. But just once. You're hyping her up."
"No can do. Really can't."
Even as I refused, temptation grew. How stunning my Eori was.
"Oh, your fiancée's name?"
"Kimhae Kim clan. Eori."
"Uh, never mind. Pass."
"Huh?"
"Yeah, sorry. Too much."
Face paling at her name, he sipped from his empty cup as I poured, asking cautiously,
"Uh, how old is this Eori?"
"Fifteen."
"Ah, phew. Good. Relief. Whew!"
"What's up?"
"Story time. My granduncle hit on an Eori, lost his Crown Prince spot. She was taken."
First I'd heard. From the nephew himself, I just nodded.
Then a familiar voice outside: "Pardon the intrusion. Fresh snacks."
"Huh?"
"Yes! Come in!"
No time to stop him, Munjong called. Door opened.
"Gasp...!"
Eori entered with the plate; Munjong inhaled sharply. Eyes locked, frozen.
See? Fucking gorgeous, right?
"Heehee."
Fucking adorable too. Our eyes met sidelong; she smiled softly, set the tray on his table.
"Yugwa. Enjoy, Your Highness."
"Uh, y-yeah... sure...!"
"I'll withdraw."
Bowing to him, she left. Munjong stayed rigid even after the door shut.
"...Dude."
As I started on the snacks, he murmured in awe,
"That woman... your fiancée?"
"Yeah."
"Dude... your fiancée is smoking hot...!"
"Told you."
"Didn't expect that. Whew, at that level...?"
"Your Highness. Wanna see those gifted swords?"
"Whoa! Kidding! Joke! Haha! You rascal!"
We polished off the yugwa she'd brought, chatting till a gruff guard voice cut in.
"Your Highness. It's late."
"Mm. Right. Heading out."
Munjong rose, prepping to leave, then casually dropped a bombshell.
"Oh yeah. Dude. Palace next Sunday. Father wants to see you."
"Huh? Why mention now?"
"Just remembered. Bring your bow. He wants a shooting demo."
"I suck at archery."
"What? Then that tiger?"
"Point-blank luck. You could do it."
"Heh! Guts for days."
"Oh, my fiancée's a crack shot. Mind if I bring her? Hits arrows embedded at 150 paces."
"For real? That beauty?"
"Told you, truth only."
"Usually don't trust braggarts, but bring her. Need your marriage okay anyway. Oh, and."
At the door, Munjong paused, grinned slyly at me following to see him off.
"Father's assigning you a secret mission. Don't freak."