The Irritating Fellow is the Culprit - 3
I strode in through the door with all the confidence in the world, but the argument between those two martial artists was like a black hole sucking in everyone's attention nearby. Who'd care about one more customer when two sword-swinging hotheads were going at it right in front of them?
Of course, outside the inn, Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i had drawn eyes immediately, but riding deer into an inn to grab attention? Only a madman would try that stunt. Thanks to that, I was still just blending in as another ordinary guest—not yet outed as the Deputy Censor-in-Chief.
But that wouldn't last. The folks outside already knew who I was, and the inn wasn't some distant realm away. In about three minutes, word would spread inside: the Deputy Censor-in-Chief had arrived.
"My lord, terribly sorry, but we're full right now. You'll have to try another inn or wait quite a—"
"I'm not here to eat, so don't worry about it."
With that, I flashed my official badge at the obsequiously bowing waiter. No point hiding it if it'd leak anyway—better to seize control of the mood myself. Playing civilian might just get these blood-boiling martial artists snarling, "Stay out of it, young hero!"
Sure, I was at the Peak realm, and Jo Wi-cheo—due any second—was Super Peak, so they'd show respect. But respect for a high-realm martial artist and respect for an official? Not the same thing.
"N-No, Your Excellency!"
The waiter freaked out at the badge, bowing so low his nose nearly scraped the floor. Perfect reaction. His shout and that "Your Excellency" line flipped the black hole—now it was all about me.
"My lord, looks like these fellows are worn out from forced marches. They're kicking up a fuss about being hungry."
Kki-ing!
Kki-oong~
Right on cue, Jo Wi-cheo pushed open the inn door, making his presence known alongside Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i. We'd galloped nonstop from Kaepyeong through Yangyang to Wuchang, but our extraordinary deer weren't the type to tire from that. Jo Wi-cheo had sized up the situation outside and paraded the deer in for all to see. Spot-on timing, spot-on move.
This is why I travel with Jo Wi-cheo. He just knows what to do without a word.
"Snow-white fur and sea-blue eyes! It's the white deer ridden by the Deputy Censor-in-Chief!"
"Word is, the Deputy Censor-in-Chief is barely out of his teens, right?"
"And he favors black attire..."
"H-Hold on, could it be a fake?"
"You lunatic! Who the hell would impersonate him and hunt down white deer to drag around? And look—that's his official badge right there!"
The inn erupted as the perfect entrance hit home.
"Th-The Deputy Censor-in-Chief?"
"We humble border folk pay our respects to the Deputy Censor-in-Chief!"
The mood shifted in a flash, and even the two arguers at the center hastily cupped their fists in salute. Good—no ravings like "We're discussing state affairs; a mere official can buzz off!" They weren't the type for that nonsense, at least.
"For lowly commoners, you showed impressive patriotism and care for the people."
I headed toward the martial artists, with Jo Wi-cheo, Kki-ing-i, and Kki-ong-i falling in behind me like clockwork.
What the—?
I froze for a second. Jo Wi-cheo as my guard? Fine. But the deer too? The place was already packed—deer tromping in would cause chaos. One wrong step, and tails could send folks flying.
"Your patriotism and concern for the people have captured even this passing official's heart. I'd like to hear the full story."
But there I was: the Deputy Censor-in-Chief, descending with a Super Peak expert and two white deer as escorts. Visual perfection. Just breathing was enough to dominate any martial artist. And with that aura of authority pressing down? They'd spill everything from cause to conclusion.
"Which comes first, the people or order? A fascinating topic. Speak freely, without holding back."
I dragged a chair near the pair and sat. No escaping now with some "It's nothing, my lord."
The guests wisely backed off, and after eyeing each other, the two cautiously spoke up.
They were scions of martial clans based in Wuchang. The one pushing to prioritize the people was Yeon Ji-un, third son of the Yeon family. The order advocate was Ju Gang, eldest grandson of the Ju family.
Yeon and Ju clans.
Not names I knew well. Rooted in Hubei's heartland, they were mid-tier at best—not local overlords.
Made sense. If they were top dogs in Wuchang or Hubei, soldiers or clan enforcers would've hauled them out before I even heard the racket. This was just a spur-of-the-moment spat from average players.
"His Majesty summoned Daesong's brave soldiers—unmatched in loyalty—to crush the savage northern bandits. Their valor pierced the heavens and shook the earth. My friend Ju Gang here and I have no doubt of Daesong's victory. But alas, while our troops fight for the realm, greed-blinded wretches are rearing their heads."
They started tentative but soon poured out their tales as I listened quietly.
"Even in the old days of unchecked martial lawlessness, the so-called water and mountain bandits were greedy tyrants! They called themselves unorthodox sects, but they were a disgrace to true martial artists!"
"Couldn't agree more."
I nodded without thinking—too immersed. No regrets, though. "Unorthodox sects"? More like full-on parakho scum disrupting the peace. Street thugs who'd learned a few moves.
"Tragically, these self-proclaimed unorthodox fiends can't suppress their vile nature, even under His Majesty's virtue blanketing the land! They only kneel after tasting the iron fist of the law—like beasts!"
That instantly evoked Gi Gangwang, the official most zealous against unorthodox bandits—especially water pirates. With him up north, that beat was wide open.
So, the manpower gap after all.
I clicked my tongue inwardly. Exactly as feared, and it stung. Even in peaceful times, shifting major forces elsewhere sparks trouble. Daesong was mostly stable, but calling it true prosperity? Debatable—thanks to the old murim factions.
Branded hard during founding, they still drew suspicious glares decades later. No choice but to keep troops on them.
Forces us to need military presence inevitably.
Back when martial law was lax, clans handled bandit hunts as outsourced security. The government skipped the small stuff. But now? Only select founding-merit sects could step up. Maintaining order was the state's job; rooting out rebels too.
Troops once free for that were now tied down watching the Central Plains. And it wasn't just self-styled unorthodox—it extended to old murim. You needed real force to rein in sword-wielding maniacs.
Then, hundreds of thousands headed north. What messes were brewing in the gaps? My heart raced just imagining.
"So, I argued we had to step up against these vile scoundrels' atrocities ourselves."
Yeon Ji-un shot Ju Gang a side-eye.
"I countered that private vigilantism is absolutely forbidden."
Ju Gang shook his head firmly.
"Purging bandits for the people—noble words, but military action belongs solely to the state. Or at least sects authorized by it."
Spot on. I nodded. Both right in their way. Only the state moves armies under heaven.
"Sure, unauthorized action might win applause at first. 'We saved the people in the crisis!' The masses would cheer. But then what? Executing Daesong subjects—bandits or not—without permission sets a precedent. Trouble for generations."
Yeon Ji-un's mouth twitched at Ju Gang's logic, but he bit his lip and held back.
These kids know better than to bicker in front of me. Unlike some idiots who'd scrap like dogs before the emperor.
"Future generations could draw swords 'for the people,' slapping 'bandit' labels on innocents and butchering them. To avert that horror, stick to principles. That's the path for the people."
Hmm.
Ju Gang exhaled softly, done. I turned to Yeon Ji-un.
"...We can't ignore present suffering to prevent unproven future woes. And for futures not yet come, we can prepare countermeasures now."
Hmmmmm.
Good.
Decision made. Drag them both to the prefect first.