May Peace Be With You - 6
I poured the people's tears into this strike. Their rage into this one. Their laments into this. Their sighs into this. And my own boiling fury into this final blow against the Xiang family head.
'You'll only smell incense from now on, you bastard.' Perfect—he was even born into the Xiang family. Heaven must have destined him for this day.
"As far as this lowly one knows, Your Excellency upholds the world's order in service to His Majesty. Even if we have sinned, there are procedures to follow. Shouldn't the Left Vice Inspector General, guardian of the empire's stern laws, act this way?"
'You son of a bitch.' His words echoed in my mind, and I gripped my sword tighter. Yeah, scum like this exists everywhere. The kind who ignore the law themselves but chain others with it. Who treat it like trash when it suits their gain, then hide behind it in a pinch. They live too easy, mocking the heavens. Ruling over all, bending the world with a flick of the finger, so everything seems simple.
'Life demands trials sometimes.' This disaster stemmed from never facing a proper rival. What if he'd had a real competitor by his side? Or someone like me, a royal grandson? He wouldn't have dared. He wouldn't have mocked the law, scorned the people, treated officials like tools, or defied heaven.
"Your Excellency."
After swinging my sword for what felt like ages, Jo Wi-cheo gently touched my shoulder.
"It might be best to stop now."
"What?"
"We need his head or neck intact. If he dies too soon, it'll be a problem."
I halted my spirit-infused strikes and looked down at the Xiang family head. He'd started out yelling through the blows, but now he just writhed on the ground. Keeping his head untouched amid the frenzy must have been my last shred of reason. Any more to the skull, and he'd be dead.
"Too bad he never learned any martial arts."
"Even if he had, he'd have topped out at second-rate or third-rate. Same end result."
Jo Wi-cheo's sharp words made me sheathe my sword without protest. He looks stoic, but he's surprisingly considerate. For him to draw a hard line like 'this bastard's a second- or third-rate hack no matter what,' his disgust must have peaked. Jo Wi-cheo never denied anyone's potential before. This meant he no longer saw the Xiang head as human.
"Branch Manager."
"Y-yes... Your Excellency."
"Of all people, you hooked up with that scum. Now you've climbed all the way up just to crash down."
At my kind concern, the Branch Manager's eyes darted around before he bowed silently. Must be driving him mad. Collusion between high officials and local powers is common, but it blew up into this catastrophe. His rage and loathing for the Xiang head probably burned hotter than mine or Jo Wi-cheo's.
'Idiot.' No sympathy, though. If you suck up their money, you brace for their fuck-ups too. If he hated it, he should've cut ties the moment the assault broke—spit out every coin, legally crush the Xiangs, apologize to the people even under investigation. Lingering for profit led to this mess. Not worthy of pity.
Still, I wasn't beating him like the Xiang head because he kept his mouth shut. And he was an official, after all—sparing him until His Majesty stripped his post.
'Shame.' A little rebellion, and I'd have lopped off an ankle or wrist.
"Inspector Jo."
"Yes, Your Excellency."
"On second thought, quitting recklessly after His Majesty's grace feels improper."
"Your words are wise, sir."
The official seal I'd handed Jo Wi-cheo returned to my pocket. From royal grandson Han Un back to Left Vice Inspector General Han Un. The last dance staking the Namyeong Guard Commandant's biological neck ended successfully. I'd threatened to pin escapees' crimes on him too, and he delivered a miraculous 120% arrest rate. Grab first, sort innocent later.
Not exactly standard procedure. But neither was this situation. To catch monsters, you become one.
"Your Excellency."
As we prepared to release the innocent 20% from the makeshift detention at Namyeong Guard offices, Ak I-yeon returned from her solo mission.
"Welcome back. First time must've been tough—good work."
I softly embraced her, offering encouragement and thanks for her unseen efforts. While Jo Wi-cheo and I hunkered in the inn for two days, she'd hustled nonstop, even amid the mass arrests.
"No, it was just my duty as a Dochalwon official."
Beaming, she handed me the scroll in her hand.
"I compiled testimonies and public sentiment from Namyeong's people. Even reactions after the Guard mobilized."
"Perfect. Thanks."
The secret ledgers from shaking down the inspectors, plus testimonies squeezed from arrestees—enough to prove Namyeong officials' ties to the Xiangs. But for our snap, procedure-ignoring sweep, we needed more legitimacy. Enter the Confucian cheat code: public will. 'The people demand it,' and anything passes.
'Good call assigning her.' Her flawless execution brought a smile. Jo Wi-cheo and I were too recognizable—two peak and super-peak warriors on white deer. Too many tells. Ak I-yeon, though? Less known. She'd joined post-Jiayu Pass, mostly recording. A recorder shines when shit hits the fan, anyway. So while we stayed mum, I sent her out in plain, worn clothes—no suspicions.
'...It was on the verge of exploding.'
But satisfaction sank fast as I scanned the scroll. Namyeong's public mood simmered quietly but steadily. No spark kept it dormant; this assault was it. Riots loomed. The Xiangs' abuses under official cover were that bad. Hoarding wealth was baseline; treating parakho as private troops routine. Their ranks corrupt top to bottom. Even the brawl at Baekpi Sect's inn and Zhang Jin's beating? Xiang setup—they coveted the fur monopoly.
'Heaven helped.' I sighed unwittingly. Without me, if the assault hit during my absence—or days after arrival—it'd be apocalypse. I'd be knee-deep in blood, mopping up. Maybe borrowing Guangxi's Prefect or Provincial Commandant.
'What now?'
Serious dilemma. Screw the dumb Branch Manager; how to handle the Xiang head? Vague decapitation felt too merciful now.
After checking Namyeong's sentiment, I discussed post-op with the inspector.
"Plenty of woods in Guangxi—inflict wounds, slather honey, dump him in? Bugs would love it."
"Honey's too good for scum like him."
"True?"
Odd talk, but it underscored the Xiang head's crimes. I stayed quiet; she wouldn't act without cause. Her cold calculus held no personal rage—purely official.
"Your Excellency."
"Hm?"
"If they'd handled it properly in those two days, would we have needed troops?"
I'd asked her that before heading to Namyeong Guard. Proper response might've avoided extremes.
"No. I'd have mobilized anyway."
"Pardon?"
"No fix changes that officials condoned an assault on the people. Xiangs need martial wipeout; silent officials, accountability."
Proper action might've meant demotion over troops for them, she'd added. Her smile strained; eyes dead serious. She burned for the people's blood and tears—over her own mess or official-local ties.
"The people are the sea, public will the waves. No captain, no ship withstands wrathful swells."
Grandfather's words surfaced watching her. No vessel, no helm defies raging waves. Officials tremble before furious public will—that's his teaching. She embodied it, empathizing with the fury.
'No wonder incidents follow her.' Her letters from Akwangjeo brimmed with crises. She tangled in them everywhere. Makes sense now—sensitive to ripples, soothing waves others ignore.
'That's her trust.' That care earns faith from His Majesty and the kings. Always proud; prouder now.
"Since we're dismembering anyway, drawn-and-quartered?"
"Lingchi's not bad either."
Proud... of her.