Throwing Giants Before the Throne
"Relax. If you tense up trying not to fall, you'll hurt yourself."
Panting heavily—"Haa, haa, haa"—I lifted my head and pleaded tensely with the man in front of me. "Relax. If you tense up trying not to fall, you'll hurt yourself."
"Mm. Got it."
I Cheol-dong, the gruff sergeant—no, my brother-in-arms—who'd thrown a fit last time over not getting pizza, answered curtly. I gripped the sleeve of his uniform with one hand, wedged my other firmly under his armpit, and pivoted my body.
"Hup!"
As I dipped low, his upper body landed across my back. Before he could crush me completely, I heaved him over my shoulder.
Thud!
"Urk!"
Even a hunk of iron like I Cheol-dong grunted in pain from a proper fireman's carry. For the first time since I'd met him, his stoic face twisted.
"A-are you okay, sir? Can you stand?"
"Ngh... ugh... mm... y-yeah. Fine. I can stand."
I Cheol-dong rose pointedly to his feet. I glanced at his still-scowling face, then turned to King Sejong.
"You there, Captain. You sure you're alright? That looked like quite a fall."
King Sejong eyed I Cheol-dong with pity. I Cheol-dong coughed a few times, as if spitting out the pain, before replying.
"Ahem. Yes, Your Highness. I'm unscathed."
"If anything's hurt, report it at once. Understood?"
"Your grace humbles me, Your Highness."
Once satisfied I Cheol-dong was unharmed, King Sejong finally turned to me, nodding approvingly at the technique I'd just demonstrated.
"Impressive, Tiger Boy. How does such a small frame toss a giant like this captain?"
Sure, I'm small, but take off my pants and I'm bigger than you—Agh, no.
"It's like ssireum wrestling, Your Highness. Instead of grabbing the pants, you seize the collar and sleeve, shift their weight just a bit, and down they go."
"Hmm. So others besides you could use this technique?"
Oh. Shit, shouldn't have shown this.
"H-ha, ha, y-yes... they... could...!"
"Hahaha! Why the trembling? Think I'm gonna eat you?"
"N-no, it's not...!"
"Hmm. But you're still young—that worries me. We'll talk manuals once you're a proper officer."
"Y-yes, Your Highness. Khk...!"
"You aren't crying, are you?"
"Your... Your Highness's command... it's too gracious...!"
Damn it! Should've refused when his eyes lit up! You crazy bastard! You idiot!
After Eori's archery demo, King Sejong had ordered me to show the moves I'd used against the bandits. I'd hesitated like with Grand Prince Suyang, but this was the second royal command—I got excited and did it.
Anyway, that was that, and this was this. Beyond the fireman's carry, I'd demoed basics like hip throws and leg sweeps on I Cheol-dong and the other captains.
"Well done, all you captains. I'll reward you each with chilled ramune."
"""Your grace humbles us, Your Highness!"""
He wasn't one to work people for free. He passed out ramune chilled to the point of beading condensation—one bottle per captain who played opponent, and three for me.
"I'm dying... for real...!"
Even if judo borrows the opponent's strength, it still takes effort. Recalling every technique I'd known had left me wiped out.
"M-master! Here, have this!"
Eori returned after her turn, offering me a bottle like always. Freshly capped, bubbles fizzed invitingly.
I swallowed dryly but shook my head. "Nah, you drink it."
"I've already had mine, sir. Please, have it."
"You drank before me?!"
"W-well, truth is, I haven't!"
"Knew it." I grinned warmly at her flustered head-shake and took the bottle. I pressed the bubbling mouth to my lips and chugged the cool refreshment.
Gulp, gulp, gulp!
"Ahh! That's the stuff! Ngh."
Weaker carbonation and blander than modern stuff, but in Joseon? A godsend. I drained the sweet, fizzy ramune in seconds and looked around.
Tents for relaxed breaks away from superiors' eyes dotted the area—not just for me, but other captains too. They nursed their chilled ramune, easing their aches like me.
"Hey! Yeah, you! Idle punk!"
One captain waved his bottle at me. "Not bad, kid. Where'd you learn that?"
"Uh, just picked it up watching ssireum matches."
"Figures. His Highness looked itching to try since you wouldn't let him."
"?!"
"Hahaha! You're in for it later!"
The captains thanked me profusely—one roll each earned them cool ramune. I bowed with a smile, exchanging greetings.
"Captain Kim Si-jin, sir!"
A eunuch who'd stood behind the Crown Prince earlier entered the tent. "Captain Kim Si-jin! You here?"
"Yes! Right here!"
"There you are."
The eunuch approached and delivered his message. "His Highness the Crown Prince summons you."
"Me? Why?"
"The Grand Heir misses you and wishes to see you."
Grand Heir meant the Crown Prince's successor. With Crown Prince Munjong as heir apparent, that was his eldest son—Danjong, saddled with a traitorous uncle down the line.
Before agreeing, I glanced at Eori. She smiled reassuringly.
"I'll be fine alone, sir. And even solo, I've got this." She showed the hair ribbon tied to her wrist—the good-luck charm I'd fastened.
"Go on. I'll chat with the maids over there."
She pointed to a gaggle of young palace girls her age, giggling and chatting like ordinary middle-schoolers. They didn't seem to eye her poorly.
"Got it. Be back soon. Holler if anything comes up."
"Heehee. Yes, sir. Off you go."
I stood but didn't follow the eunuch right away. Only after watching Eori join the girls did I step off.
"Your Highness. You summoned me?"
"Ah! There you are!"
"...!"
King Sejong was gone from his seat. Instead, the Crown Prince and Grand Heir welcomed me.
"Tough demo, eh? Father can be rough on folks. Bear with it."
"Yes, Your Highness. You take after him quite a bit."
"Heh. Handsome like Father, naturally."
He knew what I meant but shot back shamelessly with a grin. Then he nudged the Grand Heir beside him toward me.
"Right. Grand Heir, say hello. This is Joseon's most infamous idler—the Tiger Boy."
"Ahem! Nice to meet you, idler!"
"Y-yes, Grand Heir. An honor."
The kid, not even ten, puffed up pompously—adorable. Suppressing the urge to ruffle his hair, I asked, "Grand Heir, you wanted to see me? What do you think? Pretty handsome, right?"
"Hmph. But not as much as Father."
"Hey now, Grand Heir!"
The Crown Prince called sternly at that. Overdoing the mock scolding, he chided, "How can you say that? Not as handsome as Father? You should say Father is far handsomer!"
This guy?
"Hee. Indeed, Your Highness is far handsomer!"
Petty jealousy aside, father and son got along great. Unlike Suyang's distant descendants, no prison barrel in this one's future.
"You just thought of the barrel, didn't you?"
"N-no, sir. How could I think such irreverence?"
"This punk?"
"Father, why's a barrel irreverent?"
"Heh. Long story. Grand Heir, nothing else to ask the Tiger Boy?"
The Grand Heir, who'd unwittingly probed the distant future, tossed another question my way.
"Really, if I just copy what you did, I could topple even huge brutes?"
"Higher odds if they're off-guard or it's a surprise attack."
"Then teach it to me?"
What? Bullies at the academy? Even Japan's crown prince gets picked on in school these days. But did the Grand Heir even attend one?
Before answering, I snuck a peek at the Crown Prince. He caught my eye and shook his head vigorously.
Getting the hint, I played dumb and asked the boy, "Grand Heir, could I borrow your hand a moment?"
"Mm. Here."
I took it, kneading like inspecting. Baby fat made it squishy fun. After indulging fully, I released and shook my head.
"Grand Heir, I've trained since childhood to pull these off. Your body is too frail for them yet."
"Th-then train! How'd you build yours?"
Ah, unavoidable. Trade secret time.
"Secret. Just for you, Your Highness."
"Mm! Spill it!"
"100 push-ups, 100 pull-ups, 100 sit-ups, 25-ri run. Every day, no skips."
"Pfft?!"
My real routine cracked up the Crown Prince. The serious Grand Heir blinked up at him in confusion.
"Father? What's so funny?"
"Pfft—khk—cough—n-nothing. But Captain Kim... you... did that daily? At Grand Heir's age?"
"Not from the start. Built up gradually."
"Khahaha! Ahahaha! Got it! Pfft—khuh—khahaha! Ahahahaha!"
Hilarious, apparently. He gave up stifling and roared openly.
The Grand Heir stared at his suddenly laughing dad, then frowned suspiciously at me.
"For real?"
"Only truth from these lips. I'll demonstrate."
Doubting me? I dropped to the ground for push-ups. The Crown Prince, still chuckling, stopped me.
"Ahahaha! N-no need! I believe you! Get up! Ahahaha!"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Ahem! Right. Grand Heir, mind if I borrow the captain a bit? Pfft—"
"Yes, Father."
"Good. Khm—c'mere, Captain Kim."
Still snickering, the Crown Prince led me to a corner of the open field. Five officials in uniform—working Sundays—gathered there.
"Gentlemen."
Arriving, he pointed me out. "This is that Idle Captain Kim Si-jin I mentioned. Introduce yourselves."
"Pleased to meet you."
A forty-something official approached, hand extended. Without thinking, I shook it... a handshake?
"You."
Sensing something off, I furrowed my brow. He smiled slyly at my confusion and whispered, "Everything here's great, but no cola, huh?"