Fleeing Government Troops, Defending Ruffians
"Captain! Hoofbeats coming from the north!"
Choi Ga's urgent shout echoed down from the watchtower.
I rose from my seat, Miseuk tucked at my waist. The Ikho Company men working in the inn courtyard dropped their tasks and grabbed their weapons.
"Japs?"
"No! The flags... it's Joseon troops! Government soldiers!"
Government troops? Why the hell would they be coming down here at a time like this?
Word had already reached us of General Shin Rip's defeat at Tangeumdae, and King Seonjo fleeing Hanyang northward. So these guys heading south... it was obvious.
Deserters. Or routed remnants.
"Open the gates for now. We need to check if they're friend or foe."
At the entrance to Damyang town, a cavalry squad of about a dozen riders and fifty-odd infantrymen kicked up clouds of dust as they approached the barricade we'd built.
They looked like hell. Dented armor caked in blood, helmets missing, topknots undone everywhere. Their eyes brimmed with terror and exhaustion—the classic look of beaten soldiers fleeing the field.
But the commander at the front was different. Silk official robes under polished two-piece armor, a ornate sword at his belt. Even his horse gleamed with a healthy sheen.
"Halt!"
I raised a hand, stopping the column in its tracks.
The mounted officer scowled down at me.
"Who the hell are you? Daring to block government troops."
His voice dripped with irritation. He didn't look like a man who'd gone days without food. If anything, he had a greasy sheen to him.
"This is Ikho Company territory. State your rank and business."
"Ikho Company? What kind of nonsense is that!"
The officer pointed his whip at me.
"I'm Park Suk-jin, staff officer under the Gyeongsang Right Province Military Commander! We're heading south to regroup the front lines—clear the way now!"
Staff officer. High rank. But "regroup"? Bullshit. His eyes gave him away. This bastard was running for his life. All the way south.
"Regroup? The front's up north—why south for that? Planning to hole up in Jeju Island?"
My jab turned Park Suk-jin's face beet red.
"Y-you lowly cur! Questioning military secrets? You must have a death wish!"
He bellowed at his men behind him.
"Hey! Clear that bastard out! Then march into the village and requisition supplies! Rice, meat, booze—bring it all!"
Requisition. Pretty word for looting. Losing the fight to defend the country was bad enough; now they wanted to squeeze the people dry on the run.
The soldiers hesitated, leveling spears half-heartedly. No fire in their eyes. Just bone-deep weariness.
"Hold up."
I stepped forward.
"Requisition my ass. You come begging, but talk like kings."
"W-what?"
"You lot actually fight? Half your men are banged up, but the commander's armor's spotless? Watched from the rear and bolted on horseback, huh."
Hit the nail on the head—Park Suk-jin trembled with rage.
"Y-you... treason! You're plotting rebellion!"
Treason. Convenient word. The all-purpose stick when you've got nothing else.
"Treason's what you're doing. Taking pay to defend the country, then ditching the people when war hits—what else you call that?"
I drew Miseuk and smacked it against my palm. A heavy thud from the ebony wood.
"This is my turf. The rice, water, people here—all mine to protect. Touch a single spoon, and you'll lose the hand."
Park Suk-jin yanked his sword free.
"You really wanna die? Take his head!"
But his men didn't budge. My three hundred Ikho troops lined up behind me, clubs and matchlocks at the ready. Outnumbered and outmatched—they knew it in their guts.
"Didn't you hear? Attack, damn it!"
Park thrashed like a madman.
I sighed and walked toward him.
"Hey. Get down."
"S-stay back!"
He swung wildly. Amateur swing—book scholar who'd never bloodied a blade on the field.
I didn't dodge. Just smacked the flat of the blade away with my left hand.
Clang!
The sword flew harmlessly. I grabbed his ankle and yanked him off the horse.
Thud-crash!
"Gah!"
Park hit the dirt face-first. Now he looked like a proper routed soldier, covered in mud.
"Let go! I said let go! Do you know who I am?"
"Yeah. Deserter Park."
I hauled him up by the collar. Then undid the straps on his fancy two-piece armor.
"Shame about this armor. Too good for trash like you."
Riiip!
I stripped the armor, then his official robes underneath. Park flopped to the ground in his undergarments.
"W-what the...!"
"These belong on someone fighting for the country. Luxury for runners like you."
I tossed the armor to Choi Ga.
"Choi Ga. Clean this up and wear it. It'll look better on you."
"Thanks, Captain! Perfect fit!"
Choi Ga beamed as he caught it.
Park's face burned crimson with humiliation, fuming but too cowed to charge. My bulk and glare had crushed his spirit.
"Soldiers! Listen up!"
I ignored Park and addressed the ranks behind.
"Your commander's fired. You're free now."
Murmurs rippled through them.
"Your choice. Eat, rest, head home—no hard feelings."
I paused, then continued.
"But doesn't it piss you off? Beat by Japs, sneered at by officers, dragged like dogs to die."
Their eyes wavered.
"Stick with me, and I'll feed you full, arm you right, and most of all..."
I clenched my fist.
"...we'll win. Anyone itching to crack Jap skulls, step up."
Silence hung. The first to move was an older soldier at the rear, matchlock in hand.
"Uh... you really fill us up?"
"Damn right. Meat too."
"Then I'm in. Family's probably dead anyway... time for payback on the Japs."
He broke ranks and walked over. Others followed, glancing around.
"Me too!" "Yeah! Can't run like cowards!"
Over forty of the fifty crossed to my side. Only Park's house slaves remained, eyeing him.
"You lot, take that trash and scram. Show your faces again, and it's clubs."
Park and his lackeys bolted, tails between legs. Stripped of horse and armor, fleeing in underwear down the mountain path—a pathetic sight.
"Welcome aboard."
I greeted the newcomers.
I approached the old soldier who'd stepped up first. Callused hands, solid matchlock stance—not amateur.
"Sir, you handle that matchlock well?"
"Aye. Worked powder in the Hullyeondogam in Hanyang."
Jackpot. Trained gunner from the capital. Priceless.
Our Ikho boys could barely shoot straight, let alone maintain firearms.
"Name?"
"Park Ga."
"Instructor Park. Train our guys starting today. Pay's generous."
"Instructor? If you say so."
Park scratched his head sheepishly, but his eyes burned sharp.
Others too: crack archers, spear masters. Even rotten, government vets had skills. They'd drill our thug recruits, doubling our combat power.
"Seo accountant!"
"Yes, Captain."
Seo Baek-seol appeared with her ledger.
"Family grew. Forty more. Feed 'em, clothe 'em."
"Ugh... I can hear the rice bins emptying."
She grumbled, but smiled. She knew: men were power.
"Special treatment for Instructor Park. He's key to our firepower."
"Got it. Oh, the horse we took? Prime beast."
"Send to Na Dae-yong. Something for his tinkering."
"Tinkering?"
The courtyard buzzed again. New soldiers awkward at first, but tiger-meat rice soup melted them in, blending with the Ikho crew.
"Hey, what's Hanyang like? See the king?" "Don't ask. Chaos."
Intel swapped, bonds formed.
I polished Miseuk, watching.
No more fleeing government troops. Just thugs ready to defend, warriors dreaming revenge.
We've got the pieces now.
Infantry (Ikho troops), armor (Xuanwu), artillery (powder team), regular army instructor. Better than any provincial garrison. Hell, strongest private force in Joseon.
"Captain."
Instructor Park approached.
"What's up?"
"The matchlocks. Captured ones are beat. Need repairs..."
"No sweat. We've got a genius engineer."
I nodded to the smithy. Na Dae-yong hammered away amid sparks.
"Tell him. He'll love it."
Park nodded and headed over. Soon, Na's cheer rang out.
"Whoa! Hullyeondogam gunner? Jackpot! Check this barrel—strong rifling..."
Geeks unite.
I looked skyward. Clouds parting.
But no slacking. King's flight meant Jap main force pushing north. Soon, they'd hit Honam.
Not vanguard scraps. Tens of thousands. Real generals.
"Come on."
I balled my fist.
"Government troops run. I don't. This is my last stand."
Tomorrow, ramp up training. Get Park to drill marksmanship mastery.
Joseon's Xiang Yu leads this ragtag army. Eyes on the miracle we'd make, I strode back to the training ground.