Chapter 7: The Corrupt Magistrate's Summons
Ten days had passed since the hellish PT exercises and the tiger meat feast.
In that time, my Ikho Army lads had changed beyond recognition. The flab had melted away, replaced by solid muscle. Their eyes burned with venomous resolve, ready to charge into fire at my command.
The problem was that their appetites had exploded right along with their morale.
"Slurp! Nom nom!"
"Auntie! More rice over here!"
Lunchtime turned the inn's courtyard into a battlefield. Thirty hollow-bellied men, starved from training and labor, were inhaling their food like it was going out of style.
I lounged on the porch, toothpick in my teeth, savoring the sight. You gotta eat big to fight big. My army would be the best-fed force in all eight provinces of Joseon.
But Seo Baek-seol, the financier sitting beside me, saw things differently.
"Haa..."
She sighed like the earth itself was crumbling, flipping through her ledger. Her fingers trembled.
"Commander. No, Kim Deok-ryeong. You seeing this?"
She shoved the ledger under my nose.
"The rice bins are emptying out. We already burned through thirty percent of the tiger pelt profits."
"Pfft, thirty percent? That leaves seventy. Plenty to spare."
"This is just for ten days! At this rate, we'll be sucking our thumbs in two months. Got a plan?"
Seo Baek-seol's eyes sharpened like daggers. She was a hardcore merchant through and through—the type who hated pouring water into a leaky jar. To her, my Ikho boys weren't sturdy soldiers; they were rice-guzzling monsters.
"Relax. Investments take time to pay off."
I played it cool.
"And they ain't just eating us out of house and home. They're earning their keep."
I nodded toward the piles of materials stacked in the corner of the yard.
Mornings were for PT, afternoons for community service slash fortification drills. Under my orders, they were patching the village's crumbling walls and damming shallow streams.
"Earning their keep? That gonna pay the bills? A few wild yams from the villagers is all the 'profit' we're getting."
"Hearts and minds beat money every time. You'll see when war hits. The folks who'll hide us and feed us are right here in this village."
"War, war. Always with the war talk. You really think it's coming?"
Seo Baek-seol grumbled, but she didn't forget to yell at the emptying rice pots: "Hey! Slow down over there! You'll choke!" Tough exterior, soft heart—that was her.
"Alright, you lot! Plates clean? On your feet!"
My bellow made them drop their spoons and snap to attention.
"Afternoon drill starts now. Village entrance barricade today. Not done by sundown, no dinner—you know the drill."
"Sir! Yes, sir!"
Their voices rang with iron discipline. No dinner was a death sentence to them; it lit a fire under their asses.
The worksite was at the village edge.
The old dirt wall was a joke—one good rain and it'd collapse. I was blending modern engineering into a proper defensive line.
"Haul those rocks! Big ones at the base, small ones for the gaps! Mud slurry—pack it tight!"
I supervised with hands clasped behind my back.
Choi Ga staggered over with a bear-sized boulder, grunting.
"Commander! This rock's too damn heavy!"
"Step aside."
I shoved him out of the way and hefted it one-handed.
"Hup!"
Shouldered it like a sack of feathers and strode to the wall, dropping it with a thud.
"Whoaaa..."
The lads gawked, applauding. Guess even after ten days, my strength still blew their minds.
"Quit staring—start shoveling! When war comes, this wall's your lifeline."
They dove back in like maniacs.
I wiped sweat from my brow and glanced at the sky.
Peaceful. But I knew this calm was the eye of the storm.
Tiger hunt, private army, village fortification—my moves were too flashy. In Joseon society, standing out like that inevitably drew the officials' eyes.
And sure enough.
"Anyone around here?!"
A shrill shout echoed from the village outskirts.
The workers froze. I turned.
Three horses kicked up dust as they charged in. Men in official robes, red arrest ropes at their waists, wooden clubs in hand—textbook government bailiffs.
Here we go.
I leaned on my hoe, waiting.
The bailiffs glared down imperiously from horseback. The one in the middle, with his ratty little mustache, sized me up.
"You Kim Deok-ryeong?"
Casual speech. Pissed me off instantly. Sure, I had a 45-year-old salaryman mindset, but here I was just a big dumb thug.
"That's me."
"Take this."
The bailiff chucked the red rope at my feet.
My Ikho boys murmured. Choi Ga gripped his sickle tighter, glancing at me. I shot them a look: Stand down. Clashing head-on with the law would make us real traitors.
"What's the charge?"
I asked calmly.
"Charge? You know damn well."
He pointed his horsewhip at me, bellowing.
"Reports say you're assembling a private militia for illegal drills and butchering mountain beasts without permit for massive profit. Violating national law—heavy crime!"
Private soldiers and poaching. Classic hangable offenses if they wanted to make it stick.
But I smelled bullshit. No righteous fury in their rat eyes—just greed. Hyenas homing in on the tiger pelt cash stink.
"Military drills? As you see, we're just fixing the village wall. That a crime?"
"Shut it! Word is you're rallying thugs, chanting weird slogans, causing chaos! No more lip—come quietly. The magistrate himself will question you."
The magistrate. Damyang's county magistrate.
This era's Damyang mag... memory fuzzy, but no famous general. Probably a corrupt vulture scooping his own rice bowl or some incompetent bureaucrat.
"Got it. Lead on."
I set down the hoe easy.
"C-Commander!"
Choi Ga panicked. The Ikho boys surged forward with shovels, mood turning ugly.
"You punks! Defying the law?! I'll haul you all in!"
The bailiff drew his club, threatening. But facing thirty jacked men closing in, he flinched on his horse.
"Stand down."
I raised a hand.
"You lot, back to work. Wall ain't done, no dinner—got it?"
"B-but they're taking you!"
"Not taking. The magistrate just wants a chat over tea. Be back soon."
I calmed them and eyed the bailiff.
"No need for the rope. I ain't running—lead the way."
Whether cowed by my vibe or spooked by the thirty beefcakes behind me, he didn't bother tying me.
"Hmph, cocky bastard. Let's see if that neck stays stiff at the office."
The bailiffs wheeled their horses. I trudged after.
Passing the inn, Seo Baek-seol burst out, skirts hiked, having heard the news.
"What the hell?! The county office?!"
Her face was ghost-white. As a merchant, she knew what that meant better than anyone: go in, come out skinned alive, pockets empty.
"No biggie. Magistrate wants to see me."
"No biggie? I told you not to stand out so much!"
She stomped, pulling an envelope from her bosom. Crisp paper bundle.
"Take this. Bribe the clerks, grovel to the mag—fifty seok of rice worth. Money fixes everything clean."
Her hands shook as she tried shoving the promissory note into mine. Smart, practical. In Joseon, nothing defended like cold hard cash.
But I pushed it back.
"Nah. Waste of money. Didn't you say we're broke on rice?"
"Money's the issue now? You nuts? You don't go empty-handed to that place! Want the beating of your life and end up crippled?"
Tears welled in Seo Baek-seol's eyes. Worry for her partner? Or pity for this fool? Hard to say.
I patted her shoulder.
"Chill. I'm Kim Deok-ryeong. Few lashes won't break these bones."
"Joking now?!"
"And I ain't empty-handed."
I flexed my fist.
"Got the perfect bribe."
"What?"
"This."
I held my fist to her face.
"I'll settle the bill with it."
She stared blankly at my knuckles, horror dawning—was he gonna punch the magistrate?
"Wait up. Back before dinner. Oh, fry up some meat tonight. Gonna be starving after."
I turned away.
The bailiffs barked.
"Hurry up! Dawdle and it's club time!"
I strode on.
Villagers lined the road, buzzing. "Deok-ryeong's been nabbed." "Aigoo, such a shame for a young buck." "Got too cocky after that tiger."
Pitying stares, mocking ones. I carried them all on my back and kept walking.
My mind was ice-cold.
Magistrate, huh.
Hyena chasing cash scent. How to cook him?
Could bribe and smooth it over—safest, easiest, like she said. But that'd just invite more shakedowns. Once they taste blood, they never stop.
Besides, bigger plays ahead: gunpowder, weapons, ships. Every step begging the office, greasing palms? I'd be buried in cleanup before prepping for war.
Time to set it straight.
Who was top dog, who was the mutt.
Crossing the county office threshold, I wasn't some peasant Kim Deok-ryeong anymore. I was the dealmaker seizing control in this chaos.
Damyang county office's ornate gate loomed. Spearmen stood intimidating, but to me, they were scarecrows clutching sticks.
"After you."
I said first. The bailiff gawked, but I ignored him and stepped into the yard. Time to chill the corrupt vulture's spine.