Chapter 28
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: Oda Nobunaga
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“Tch, the treatment is finished.”
“Naga.”
“Yes…!”
The old physician bowed his head hurriedly at Oda Nobunaga’s voice, which clearly seethed with anger right down to her fingertips, and scurried out of the room. Naturally, this left Baek Il-yeong and Mori Yoshinari alone with her, forced to glance nervously at her expression.
Especially for Il-yeong, it felt like he was on the verge of death. His whole body already ached like hell, and he couldn’t even guess why Nobunaga was so furious.
‘No way… she’s pissed because I didn’t beat Shibata?’
Nah. No way.
Probably not.
If that were the case, she might seriously pull a Honnoji on us. Shibata Katsuie was the first name that came to anyone’s mind when you thought of the Oda Clan’s fiercest general. Just drawing with her was a miracle in itself…
At that moment, as Il-yeong forced his aching body upright, a warm hand touched his back. He glanced over to see Yoshinari stroking the wound on his back with a face full of worry.
“Ahem.”
For some reason, his face flushed, and he let out a cough. But then, after taking another swig of sake, Nobunaga spoke to Yoshinari in a chilling voice Il-yeong had never heard before.
“Yoshinari. You, stay outside.”
“Pardon? B-but…”
Normally, she would have obeyed without question, but Yoshinari hesitated, her eyes on the countless wounds covering Il-yeong’s body.
“Since when do you question my orders?”
“I-I’m sorry!”
But Nobunaga’s tone was enough to snap her back to reality. She slammed her forehead to the floor in apology, and Nobunaga dismissed her with a glance, sending her out.
Kkiiik—.
Now alone, Nobunaga downed the remaining sake in her half-empty gourd in one go. She glared at Il-yeong and said,
“Who permitted such a reckless duel?”
“…No one.”
Il-yeong scratched his cheek at her words. Was she really asking out of ignorance? He decided to answer as rationally and logically as possible.
“I may have Joseon blood, but right now, I’m the eldest son of the Hirate Family. Moreover—and I can’t say this openly—but the Oda Clan is currently split between you, my lord, and your sister Nobuyuki’s factions. In that situation, refusing Shibata’s challenge would…”
“You idiot!”
Thud—!
But Il-yeong couldn’t finish. Nobunaga hurled the now-empty gourd to the floor and strode toward him. He tried to back away, but his battered body was a step too slow.
“That wasn’t a duel! If I hadn’t fired my gun to stop it, Shibata might have been fine, but you…”
Il-yeong had realized it too late. Even after it stopped midway, his body hurt like it was about to give out. If he’d taken that final blow, he’d have died—or at least had a bone properly broken somewhere.
“Are you insane? Shibata Katsuie is hands-down Owari’s greatest fierce general! If she’d truly meant to kill you, you’d be dead!”
“M-my lord.”
Nobunaga shoved Il-yeong back against the wall and gripped his shoulder roughly. Of course it hurt, but at this point, Il-yeong had to ask.
“…Could you tell me exactly why you’re so angry?”
For a moment, Nobunaga furrowed her brow at his question, twisting her beautiful face. She swept back her bangs roughly and opened her red lips to shout,
“Obviously because…!”
But the obvious reason that should have followed never came. Instead, Nobunaga rolled her golden pupils for the first time and mumbled to herself, lips twitching.
Thinking about it, Nobunaga had no reason to be angry.
As Il-yeong had said, refusing the duel would have damaged not just the Hirate Family’s reputation, but his own as well. And he’d even drawn with Shibata Katsuie herself. For a new retainer’s adopted son to match the enemy faction’s ace general was cause for reward, not rage.
‘…Why did I get mad?’
“My lord?”
Nobunaga pulled her hand from Il-yeong’s shoulder without realizing it and took a step back. The faint scent of alcohol mixed with her bodily fluids wafted from her lips, and only then did she admit to herself that the drink had briefly stolen her reason.
That left a problem. Why had she been angry at Il-yeong? Nobunaga stared at him, unable to answer her own question.
But then.
Il-yeong lowered his brows and stepped toward her, placing a hand on her forehead.
“Eek?”
Startled by the sudden, irreverent act, Nobunaga flinched, but Il-yeong spoke in a voice full of concern.
“…You’ve had a lot to drink.”
Il-yeong lightly stroked her forehead, which was hot to the touch, then stepped back and straightened the clothes she had mussed in her push.
“If I’ve done wrong, punish me later. For now, you should rest.”
Of course it hadn’t been pleasant, but he must have upset her somehow.
Best to make himself scarce for now. He was worried about Shibata Katsuie too.
“Then…”
“Wait.”
Nobunaga stared blankly at Il-yeong. And just as he bowed his head to leave.
“Yes?”
Nobunaga grabbed him to stop him, mumbled a few times, then averted her gaze slightly to the side and said,
“…Tell them to bring the sake tray. I’ll pour for you myself, since you drew in the duel.”
And hearing her words, Il-yeong thought,
‘…Bipolar disorder?’
**
The sake tray arrived faster than expected. Probably because Nobunaga was known for enjoying her drinks.
‘Isn’t alcohol bad for patients?’
Il-yeong thought as he passed around the poured cup. Fortunately, Nobunaga didn’t press him to drink, contenting herself with sips.
How long did that awkward silence last?
When Il-yeong, hungry, popped some fish from the table into his mouth, Nobunaga parted her red lips and spoke.
“That round thing is called Earth. You might not know, but we call the land we live on Earth, and it shows all the countries and territories on it.”
But her words were a random explanation of the globe—Earth, out of nowhere. Of course, having lived in the modern world, Il-yeong knew some lands and countries weren’t marked yet, but he kept it to himself.
“I see.”
That was all Il-yeong could say. Nobunaga glared at his lukewarm response, clearly displeased, but soon took a sip from her cup and asked,
“What’s Joseon like?”
“Joseon, you say.”
Her question left Il-yeong pondering. Naturally, he’d never seen Joseon in this era with his own eyes.
So he downed his cup, licked the sake droplets from his lips, and answered.
“Awful. But beautiful.”
Probably the closest answer. What country wasn’t? Places where people lived were always awful yet beautiful.
He was certain this world’s Baek Il-yeong had felt much the same.
“Awful… and beautiful…”
Il-yeong’s reply seemed to touch her; Nobunaga rarely smiled so gently as she gazed at him. She parted and closed her lips a few times.
“It’s hot.”
She’d been drinking since the meeting hall. Though she knew the heat in her body wasn’t just from the sake, she silently poured for Il-yeong.
She downed her own cup in one gulp, then slipped the haori dangling precariously from her elbow off her shoulders.
“Cough!”
Il-yeong choked while reaching for water nearby. Her snowy-white shoulders were bare, the only thing covering her upper body a thin white bandage barely containing her breasts.
‘…No way?’
Il-yeong eyed Nobunaga’s slightly flushed face, rolling his eyes. But instinct kept drawing them over her body.
She clearly didn’t neglect training; despite all the drinking, there wasn’t an ounce of flab on her abs. Smooth lines like an artist’s rendering wrapped her waist, centered by a delicately sculpted navel worthy of a master craftsman.
Even with pants on, her hip bones peeked subtly, and the neatly bound cleavage formed by the bandage was enough to make him want to belt out the national anthem.
“M-my lord?”
The moment Il-yeong tried to speak.
Nobunaga licked her sake-glistened lips and murmured softly.
“You asked why I was mad.”
“Y-yeah, that’s true.”
“You’re mine. My retainer. Seeing you hurt like this—how could that make me happy?”
“Haha…”
Her words carried a strange nuance, but she was clearly drawing a line. Il-yeong sensed it and shelved his faint hopes for the moment.
Meanwhile, Nobunaga seemed in a better mood, smirking at his awkward laugh as she said,
“As you know, there’ll be a battle with the Imagawa soon. If you achieve merits there that satisfy me…”
Nobunaga gazed at Il-yeong’s face for a moment, then turned toward the window, lifting the corner of her mouth as she continued.
“Then, it won’t be just sake… I’ll give you something better.”
In that instant, Il-yeong missed the deeper flush creeping into her cheeks.