Water and Water Bandits: Indomitable Resilience - 3
Stubborn tenacity to keep pirating even in the hellish environment of a waterfall. Boldness to abandon their ships—their entire fortune as pirates—when push comes to shove. Flexibility to claim even dry land as their turf for a getaway. The Guizhou water bandits, armed with this insane trinity, operated on a whole different level from your run-of-the-mill pirates.
"Go as fast as you can." Coo-coo! After agonizing deliberation, I sent a homing pigeon to Gi Gangwang, enclosing a letter asking if he might be interested in these absolute monsters.
No matter how I sliced it, sending word to Gi Gangwang was the polite thing to do. The world's foremost water bandit expert was alive and kicking with eyes wide open—how could I not report the first-ever waterfall-climbing type of pirate? If word of these freaks reached his ears later, he might hassle me about it.
I need advice anyway. Beyond whether he'd get offended or not, this mess screamed for an expert's input. Ordinary water bandits? I could handle them solo. I'd seen plenty while roaming the Central Plains and led my share of purges. Hell, back when I was still stuck in Kaepyeong, I'd even read his records on the Yangtze River bandit purge.
But were these things even worthy of the "water bandit" label? Honestly, "amphibious motherless scum-sucking bastards" fit better. Without a seasoned pro, they were untouchable monsters.
If it weren't for the damn waterfall... The sheer majesty of the Huangguashui Great Waterfall I'd seen with the Branch Manager flashed in my mind, drawing a dry chuckle. I still couldn't wrap my head around it. According to him, these pirates really climbed the damn thing to escape. Scaling an 80-meter waterfall? Who does that?
Come to think of it, there's that legend about carp swimming upstream through raging gorges to become dragons. If that's real, these pirate bastards must be half-human, half-dragon.
"Damn freaks."
I rubbed the nape of my neck, watching the homing pigeon vanish into the distance. An 80-meter great waterfall. Eighteen cascades clustered around it. Escape routes so insane they didn't just climb the falls—they leaped onto land.
I hoped Gi Gangwang's wisdom and experience could crack this madness.
After the on-site inspection, the Branch Manager and I brainstormed water bandit countermeasures daily. I'd sent the pigeon to Gi Gangwang, but if he was busy, no instant reply. Meanwhile, those pirates could rampage further, so we had to handle what we could locally.
"What a headache."
"No viable plan in sight."
Even pooling our brains, nothing solid emerged. If two heads could whip up a quick fix, the Branch Manager wouldn't have been suffering in silence. He'd already tackled every local fix possible.
Still, two rank-4 officials couldn't just throw up their hands. Even if no results came, we had to at least pretend to try. It was the bare minimum of duty and conscience.
"Wi-cheo."
"Yes, my lord."
After stroking my chin forever, I turned to Jo Wi-cheo standing behind me.
"If water bandits were climbing the waterfall right in front of you, could you pursue?"
Jo Wi-cheo shot me a split-second glare with his eyes. Sorry. I hate asking this crap too.
"One alone? I could catch them. But if the others harass me while I'm climbing? No guarantees."
He schooled his face and gave the expected negative, like clockwork. A Chojeoljeong master—the pinnacle short of Hwagyeong—but even that didn't defy physics. Hell, admitting he could nab one showcased his elite status.
No helping it. Yeah, regrettable but unavoidable. Land fights and water battles were worlds apart, no matter the realm. If Jo Wi-cheo were water-savvy or trained in aquatic arts, maybe—but he was a standard landlubber warrior.
Asking him to hunt waterfall-adapted pirates one by one was cruel. Even a mangy mutt guards half its yard like a fortress.
Waterfall-climbing means at least Peak realm. And if that mutt was a vicious hound? Worse. Bad luck, and it might be a full beast.
"Controlling the whole waterfall area... too vast."
"Yes. Eighteen falls in one zone. One commandery's troops can't seal or encircle it."
"What about torching the nearby woods to cut their timber supply?"
"Tried it. They doused the flames quick—martial artists with water arts."
I flinched. Arson was my "eureka" stroke of madness, and he'd already tried it. Failure despite that? Ironic.
"Shell the falls with cannons to redirect the flow and block their paths?"
"The Prefect said prepare to die if I tried."
I shut my mouth at his deadpan reply. Didn't expect artillery to be on the table—and shot down.
"...You've worked hard all this time."
I consoled the Branch Manager sincerely. He'd exhausted every option. Blaming him would be robotic cruelty.
"Too kind, my lord."
He gave a bitter smile, twisting my gut further. A guy who'd lived quietly in Guizhou, tormented by lunatics—
"B-Branch Manager, sir!"
"What racket with the Left Vice Inspector General here?!"
The Branch Manager snapped at the sudden intruder.
"S-Sorry! But you have to come see this!"
The official didn't back down despite the fury—too panicked to even register it.
"Gi Gangwang—His Highness has arrived!"
"What?"
"His Highness?"
The bombshell froze me, the Branch Manager, and Jo Wi-cheo behind us.
Insane. Why was Gi Gangwang here already? I'd sent the pigeon days ago. Did he have teleportation or shrinking-earth arts?
We cut the fruitless meeting short and rushed to greet the unannounced king.
"Oh, Han Un! Seeing you so often lately!"
His greeting hit like a gut punch.
Tell me about it. Why do I keep bumping into these kings? Nang-jung Wang in Shaanxi, then Sichuan—chaos.
"Your Highness. We're deeply grateful and honored by your visit to this remote Guizhou, but we weren't prepared to receive you properly—our apologies."
I swallowed my bitterness and bowed. Tempted to snap, "Showing up without a reply—old Mongol custom?" But that might send my soul to the Mongols.
"Hm? You didn't know I was coming?"
Gi Gangwang sounded genuinely puzzled.
"No, Your Highness. We heard nothing—"
Coo-coo-coo!
I glanced at the familiar cry approaching from afar.
Coo-coo!
A weary homing pigeon rocketed in at light speed.
"Ah, finally here."
His amused tone made my head throb. That pigeon carried his reply, right? Flying so desperately—not dawdling somewhere fun.
Humans outpacing pigeons? Ridiculous.Hwagyeong lightness skill was a marvel.
Lately, water bandits on the Yangtze had thinned out. Constant purges drove survivors into tributaries or underground. Hunting them one by one was a hassle.
Of course, pirates were unnatural, irrational outlaws. Time would spawn bold maniacs reclaiming the river, but thanks to the Founder's righteous rule, their numbers stayed low.
I lived up to his trust. As the king tasked with Yangtze security and bandit purges, it gladdened me. The Founder bestowed excessive faith on this lowly man, and I'd repaid it splendidly. Surely a joyful triumph.
I'd repaid the Founder's grace, stabilized the Emperor's realm, protected the people's smiles. All good... yet
Why this emptiness?
Water bandit scum, as hated as Mongol northern bandits. After driving the Mongols beyond the Great Wall, I'd devoted my life to exterminating these vermin. Pirates were inseparable from my existence.
Fewer to purge was good, but I felt hollow. I'd poured my life, passion, youth into it. No more fuel for my fire? Tragic.
Couldn't artificially boost their numbers, though. Accepting the era's flow—
[We've discovered water bandits in Guizhou operating differently from the usual sort.]
[They base around waterfalls. When pursued by troops, they climb the falls or ditch their boats to flee. They use disposable ferries, yet somehow handle the cascade's flow—astonishing.]
Han Un's letter shook my settled heart. When the Sichuan wanderer reached Guizhou? Irrelevant—he roamed everywhere.
The key: brand-new pirate type in Guizhou.
Guizhou, huh.
A sly grin tugged my lips as I dashed off a reply.
[I'll go myself.]
Short and sweet, naturally.
"Now, deliver fast."
Coo-coo!
"Shape up. Departing immediately."
Coo...?
Me arriving beat the reply anyway.