First Meeting
Finally free from that eunuch's clutches, I took my first steps into the world. I'd secretly hoped for some heroic tale straight out of a legend, but—
Gurgle. “I'm starving…”
Right now, here I was, clutching my empty gut. Why was I hungry? Hadn't eaten. Why not? No money. Why no money? No damn job!!!
“This world's way more fucked up than I thought.”
I must've underestimated this pre-modern agrarian hellhole. Nah, truth was, I hadn't underestimated it at all. This town was just beyond imagination.
“Sigh…”
Farming life was simple: balls-to-the-wall busy during peak season, dead boring otherwise. Harvest time? Hands short everywhere. Off-season? Swarms of jobless like this—
Murmurs. “Any work?”
“I'll take half pay.”
“Quarter!”
“Eighth!”
“Hey? Then sixteenth for me!”
Farmers with no fields rushing out for side gigs. Jobs scarce, workers overflowing. Wages in freefall, until you get shit like:
“Wall-building crew, three laborers! No pay, just room and board!”
—“Me!”
“Me too!”
“I stood up first!”
“Fuck off!”
No-pay meal gigs sparking fistfights. Marx down in hell would rip his panties off screaming. No wonder proper jobs were impossible now.
Shake head. “Too damn proud for that crap.”
Of course, I hadn't just stood by. No labor? Earn another way. Like—
Stomp stomp. “Hey, hand over the cash.”
Extorting alley thugs.
“N-no more!”
“Die and crawl back if you want.”
My current inner energy—my strength—was peak realm by local standards. Modern terms? Reached the UFC prelims. Impressive for a 19-year-old, but kinda disappointing for someone who'd hit the unprecedented 7th stage of Guihua Preservation.
Anyway, point was, I could kill these thugs with a pinky. That's why they groveled and forked over coin.
Gurgle. “Fuck, starving.”
So why was I still hungry? Business had hit its limit.
“Hey! Why the fuck are you all going straight now?! Wanna die?!”
Beat and robbed 'em so much, they quit crime cold. Alley boss? Farming with dad. Serial groper? Wed an ugly but decent girl. Alleys were ghost towns now.
“H-honest living needs your permission?!”
“What? Die then—!”
“Eek! Officer! Save me!”
Dash. “Tch…”
Thug-beating was justice. Civilians quitting crime? Assault. Had to suck my thumb.
“No choice.”
No labor, no extortion. One option left: maegum. Escort gigs, problem-solvers, hired muscle. Fantasy quests, basically.
Scratch. “Gotta hit that place again…”
Ming Dynasty had labor offices like modern temp agencies. Called 'em yaren here. Last time:
“What martial art?”
“Martial art? None.”
“Out.”
That eunuch only taught Guihua Preservation. Their response was fair, though. No martial art for maegum? Like interviewing for taxi with no license.
That's why I left without a fuss.
“But not this time.”
I'd bought a martial arts manual with extortion cash and learned it!
Stomp stomp. Marched confident to the yaren office.
“Back already?”
“Yeah! Learned a martial art!”
“Which?”
“Three Disasters Sword Technique!”
“Out.”
Door in my face again.
“Hey! Why?! I learned one!”
“Bullshit! Three Disasters? Every brat knows it. Neighbor village dogs use it too.”
“…”
No wonder it cost two steamed buns. Knew it was basic, but this basic?
“Fight well, who cares what it is!”
“You flop? Our rep's on you.”
“Ugh…”
Kept hitting with logic. Time for the plan.
Slap hand up. I shouted loud:
“Fine! I'll work free, no fee! Free means no complaints even if I suck.”
“What? Free?”
“Yeah. Give me any job. Ones you can't refuse 'cause no pay.”
Sample-taste strategy! Show skills free, charge later.
“Free, huh… Got one.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Wait. Bringing the client.”
***
Sip.
Sip sip sip.
“Hey. You really not gonna talk?”
Inn. Here to meet the referred client, but—
Sip. “No need for names? Just escort me.”
This prick just sipped tea, ice-cold. Huge bamboo hat hid his face like he hated it.
'Man, craving cold noodles.' That hat screamed cold noodles. Glimpsed his face earlier—handsome as hell. Was a guy before, so no butterflies.
'Hiding that?'
Sip. “Quest's simple. Escort me from Yangyang to Jiangxia.”
“Jiangxia…”
Both in Jingzhou region. Where Guan Yu got his head chopped in Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Later Wuhan, some plague origin…
“Ahem.”
Decent distance, annoying but easy. Just highway trot. Mountain path? That'd be work.
'To the freebie like me?'
“Paid fair price. Follow my orders well.”
“???”
What the hell was this guy saying?
“Paid? What pay?”
Some fee maybe?
Shake head. “Didn't pay 10 gold taels?”
“Wh-what?!”
One tael was like 10 million won modern. Ten? A hundred mil?! Extreme: Seoul to Busan for 100 mil.
'Total sucker.'
Anyway, bigger issue—
Grind teeth. “Those fuckers… they're dead!”
Suckered the naive mark, dumped free quest on me? Fail or complaint? Pin it on me. They pocket 10 taels, I eat the debt. Success? Wash hands clean.
“…”
Never planned real quest.
“Wait here a bit.”
Grace for grace, grudge for grudge. Left inn, straight to yaren.
***
“Whew… headache.”
Mind unstable post-change, avoid anger. Go berserk otherwise.
But this? Impossible not to rage. Scamming a greenhorn for profit! Past life or this, scum's the same.
Stomp stomp. Head boiling, arrived at yaren office.
Ear to door first. Maybe misunderstanding…
Slide.
“Hahaha! Earned 10 gold sitting!”
“Boss as expected! Any mess, dump on that veiled bitch. We're golden. Foolproof!”
—…
“Knew it.”
Death penalty.
Kick.
Crash. Booted door, stormed in.
Flail. “Y-you're the Three Disasters guy?”
“Not left yet?”
“…Hand it over.”
“Hand wha—!”
Clang. “10 gold taels, now!”
Sometimes anger's healthy. Smashing bottle on boss's head? Basically medicine. Their hurts… medical accident.
“Fuck! Rush her!”
All cards down. No talk. Head-bleeding boss yelled; everyone charged: guards, staff, some clients. Over 20.
Past life? Even champ'd freak. But now:
‘Guihua Preservation.’
Hummm.
Pulled energy; everything slowed. 7th stage perk. Up to 6th: body accel only. 7th: cognition too. World in slo-mo as I speed.
Useless vs faster foes, but this dump? Nah.
Smack.
Crunch. “Gahk…!”
“My arm!!!”
Foes slo-mo, me normal. Hard to even take a hit on purpose.
Downside? Power control tough. Thought light—
Snap. “Aaaak! My ankle! Ankle!!!”
Pat pat. “Want more?”
One truth past or present: fights are momentum. Few half-crippled? They eye each other wary.
Snap. “10 gold.”
“J-joke! Legally proc—!”
Boss delusional. Perfect med: arm twist.
Whoosh.
Crack. “Aaaaak!”
“Stop! Breaks! Breakinggg!”
Twist. “Got it! Wrong! SORRY!!!”
Polite speech. Proof treatment works. Double down on progress.
Twist. “Gaaaak! Drawer! In drawer!!!”
“Shoulda said sooner.”
Slide. Grabbed gold, released arm.
“Huff… huff…”
“Hey.”
“Y-yes?!”
“No faces again. Next time… you know?”
Nod nod. “Yes! Never show!”
‘No faces’ meant ‘don't snitch.’ Too lame direct.
Slide.‘Anyway, done?’
10 gold taels… now what?
***
Smashed office to bits, back at inn. Hard thought en route: one answer.
Thud. “Here, take back. Quest's free.”
Dumped 10 gold before client.
Technically fee, mine to keep. But nah—low move. High play: skip one candy, snag two later.
“…Why return? Could keep.”
‘Why? You scream mark!’
High: befriend clueless rich. Later, not 10—hundreds.
Nod. Smirked slight, pocketed gold.
Finally spoke:
“Ryun. Call me Ryun.”