Chapter 40
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 40
Chapter Title: A Sinful Man (3)
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Il-yeong stepped out of the castle alone, tilting his head in puzzlement.
That made sense, since just as he was about to leave with Yoshinari, one of Nobunaga's direct samurai had bowed his head and led her away.
'What's going on?'
He wasn't worried.
It was Nobunaga's command, after all, and from the circumstances, it didn't seem like anything dangerous.
Still, he couldn't help but wonder what it was about.
At that moment, Itsuki, who had been waiting outside for the two of them, looked at Il-yeong emerging alone and asked with a quizzical expression.
"Huh? Why are you coming out alone?"
"Oh, Yoshinari was summoned by the Daimyo."
"Ah, I see."
The Daimyo had called for one of her retainers.
It wasn't anything unusual, so Itsuki's reaction ended there.
Il-yeong, too, quickly dismissed it as probably just some errand and lost interest.
'Things should stay quiet for a while.'
Even rummaging through his memories, no major incidents came to mind. So it was likely something trivial.
With that thought, he nodded to himself and stepped out, strolling slowly through the streets lost in contemplation.
'Now that I've solidified my position to some extent, it's time to prepare for the next phase.'
Having settled in somewhat comfortably, he strongly felt it was time to start thinking about the bigger picture.
Objectively speaking, Il-yeong's standing had grown quite solid.
For starters, setting aside that he was Hirate Masahide's adopted eldest son and in a romantic relationship with Mori Yoshinari, his achievements were remarkable even accounting for the fact they'd only been over a few months.
Moreover, sensing that Oda Nobunaga had begun to open her heart to him somewhat, Il-yeong pondered in his mind how far he could leverage his future knowledge.
'First, we obviously need to introduce pre-packaged cartridges for fixed powder loads, and improving the matchlock rifles themselves is worth considering.'
Of course, plenty of ideas came to mind, but after narrowing them down, those were the top two.
'The issue is what impact that would have on Joseon later.'
No matter how vital survival was, if the technology Il-yeong advanced led to not just triggering but succeeding in the Imjin War, he'd be bitter beyond a mere sour taste—he might even end up regretting it enough to take his own life.
Some might call it an overstatement, but hadn't Japan independently improved and deployed matchlocks in battle even without him?
So the key was to advance technology while keeping an 'appropriate line'...
'Or, have Joseon advance alongside us.'
There were other options too.
After unifying the islands with Nobunaga at the forefront, they could seek peace with Joseon and build close ties, or withhold information entirely and let history unfold as original.
The problem was he had no idea which was right.
Il-yeong furrowed his brow, deep in thought for a long while, then unwittingly muttered under his breath.
"Sigh. What should I even do..."
Meanwhile, Itsuki, who had been subtly gauging Il-yeong's mood, spoke up.
"Young master?"
"Yeah?"
"Have you eaten yet?"
"...Eaten? Oh, right."
At Itsuki's words, Il-yeong belatedly realized his hunger and widened his eyes.
Thinking about it, it was past noon, yet he hadn't had a proper meal.
Itsuki grinned knowingly, lifting the corner of his mouth.
"Figured as much. I know a great restaurant. Shall I take you?"
"Sure, let's go."
The place Itsuki had recommended last time had been quite tasty. Il-yeong nodded and agreed, and Itsuki promptly took the lead.
Or tried to.
If not for the familiar yet unwelcome voice ringing out from behind.
"...Oh my, fancy meeting you all here. Lord Hirate."
As always, her tone was feminine and polite, but oddly awkward for some reason. Itsuki halted abruptly and stepped behind Il-yeong, while Il-yeong's face hardened stiffly, as if the smile had never been there, as he turned to her.
And sure enough.
The faces of the two women he'd expected came into view. Il-yeong offered a formal bow and spoke in a flat tone.
"Greetings, Lady."
Lady, not Lady Nobuyuki.
She wasn't the type to miss that deliberate distance, so Nobuyuki eyed him with a strange look, rolling her eyes.
She wasn't a fool.
How could she not know why Il-yeong was drawing the line more firmly than usual, hardening his expression to the point of near insult?
'It was forced, after all.'
She was the one who had thrust him into the vanguard in the previous battle. True, the proposal itself had come from Nobunaga, not her, but she had created the situation where he couldn't refuse.
'Hmm, looks like I've earned quite a bit of resentment.'
Honestly, she hadn't wished for him to die, but she hadn't been free of annoyance either.
Who was she, after all?
A resolute woman harboring ambitions to rule Owari, however faintly for now.
For such a woman to have her playful marriage proposal rejected so coldly, only for him to immediately pair up with another woman—it was infuriating.
But even so, seeing his injured arm stirred a twinge of guilt she couldn't ignore.
'Who could've known he'd fight that fiercely?'
She had assumed that even if he'd lived as a warrior in Joseon, he'd still fall short of Japan's samurai.
Didn't they say Ming excels with spears, Joseon with bows, and Japan with swords?
That preconception shattered with Shibata Katsuie's testimony about Il-yeong's prowess, which exceeded her imagination.
Especially upon hearing he'd hovered between life and death for a week from his wounds, she felt inwardly sorry and saw the need to mend ties, prompting her to approach first.
Yet seeing his rigidly set face, her lips hesitated to part easily.
How long did the silence stretch?
With the now-famous Il-yeong and the unmistakable Nobuyuki facing off in the middle of the street, passersby naturally backed away. Il-yeong glanced at them briefly, let out a small sigh, and spoke.
"Have you eaten?"
"...Pardon?"
"Itsuki knows a good restaurant. If you haven't eaten, why don't you join us? Ah, Lord Shibata as well."
"M-Me too?"
At Il-yeong's sudden mention, Shibata Katsuie, standing behind Nobuyuki in her red Hannya mask, trembled slightly.
The guards behind them stared in shock at their backs, but Il-yeong had already switched to a calm expression and addressed Itsuki.
"Lead the way."
"Yes, young master."
Itsuki's tension eased as well, it seemed.
He took the lead with a mischievous grin, as if finding the situation amusing. The two women, caught off guard by the meal invitation, exchanged bewildered glances before hurriedly chasing after Il-yeong's receding figure.
And the street they left filled once more with ordinary folk.
Meanwhile, a young woman who had silently observed the exchange between Il-yeong and Nobuyuki's group from among them pulled her hood low and slipped into a deserted alley, murmuring softly.
"Hirate Hikage... His Joseon name was Baek Il-yeong, right."
She mulled over the name for a moment, then swiftly changed into merchant-like attire and stepped out of the alley.
Right now, fulfilling the Daimyo's orders was what mattered.
"Could you bring some water first?"
"Ah, right away, young master."
Il-yeong addressed the old woman, then sat down with utter composure, gazing out at the street.
However, the two women seated before him, not to mention the samurai standing guard outside, couldn't help but feel inwardly flustered by his relaxed demeanor.
'W-What's this?'
'No idea, Lady.'
Nobuyuki and Katsuie exchanged glances, trying to figure out what was going on, but all they got were each other's confused looks.
After all, Il-yeong's vibe wasn't remotely hostile. Yet he'd suddenly invited them to eat and now sported that leisurely smile as if nothing had happened—naturally, they were thrown off.
Moreover, Nobuyuki had an extra reason to panic—
'I... I already ate...'
She'd followed on impulse, but she'd already dined with her retainers. Not hours ago, but just moments before. And the same went for Shibata Katsuie, leaving her equally flustered.
Just then, the old woman arrived with a well-set table and placed it before them.
"Here you are. Enjoy your meal."
She bowed politely, ensuring no fault could be found, then withdrew. Il-yeong looked at the neatly arranged Japanese set meal and smiled in satisfaction.
'No meat is a shame, but...'
Mostly pickled vegetables, soup, and simple fish dishes, but to Il-yeong, now accustomed, it looked quite appetizing.
"Dig in."
"Uh... sure."
As Il-yeong picked up his chopsticks first, Itsuki, Nobuyuki, and Shibata Katsuie began poking at their food.
How long did the meal proceed in silence?
Il-yeong spoke first.
He'd already emptied half his rice bowl, took a sip of water, and said,
"There are several reasons I've rejected your political marriage proposal from the start, but first, I'd like to ask something."
He met her silent gaze head-on, slightly shedding his earlier nonchalance, and asked,
"What exactly do you want with me?"
"Hmm..."
His question hit the core, leaving Nobuyuki inwardly silent. She toyed with her chopsticks for a moment before responding.
"Isn't it obvious? You're the adopted eldest son of the Hirate family, a warrior your sister cherishes. And you just joined, with no chance to prove your loyalty yet. How could I not covet you?"
It was exactly that.
From her position, even if Il-yeong proved useless, just rubbing it in her sister's face would satisfy her.
But...
'If I'd known, I would've approached more cautiously.'
Regret was inevitable.
Look at Shibata Katsuie's reaction alone. Normally quiet, but a battle fiend in fights or spars.
Meaning she was dead serious about combat and prowess.
For such a woman to praise Il-yeong, Nobuyuki had no choice but to revise her assessment.
"I see. That's fair."
Il-yeong caressed the curve of his ceramic cup briefly, then spoke.
"As you know, I've already sworn fealty to the Daimyo. She gave opportunity to me, who fled Joseon like a coward and wandered as a ronin."
"I know that too..."
"No, Lady."
Il-yeong cut off her attempt to speak, offering a faint smile as he replied.
"You've already missed your chance."
"Ah..."
Only then did Nobuyuki recall the funeral. She'd heard some Joseon ronin had attended.
'Whatever. Doesn't matter. Probably a nobody.'
She'd dismissed it. True, the stress of her sister inheriting the clan had been immense, making it somewhat understandable—but Il-yeong had no reason to consider that.
"Regrettably, our fates seem to have ended there. Unless you end your feud with the Daimyo and share the same vision, neither I nor my adoptive father, Lord Hirate, will change our minds."
"So how could I possibly follow you, Lady Nobuyuki?"
He accepted the water Itsuki poured into his now-empty cup, offered her a brief nod, and added,
"That said, if the incident with Yoshinari displeased you, I apologize. I can't go into details, but... things happened in the heat of intimacy."
"...I see."
Nobuyuki glanced down at her barely touched meal, her face a mix of complexity and a strange smile.
Then, reverting to her sly expression, she said to Il-yeong, who was nearly finished eating,
"I hear you favor oni mengu masks. We have a few renowned mengu craftsmen. Mind if I send some over?"
"I'd be delighted."
No reason to refuse a gift.
But Nobuyuki nodded in satisfaction, then stood first and said,
"By the way, there's a tasty restaurant in Suemori. Come visit sometime?"
"Sure."
At his ready agreement, she flashed a peculiar smile and left the restaurant first.
Shibata Katsuie followed, pausing to glance back at Il-yeong and say,
"We'll meet again soon."
Over a meal, or perhaps on the battlefield.
She left the rest unsaid. But Il-yeong smiled brightly in response.
"Indeed we will."