Water and Water Bandits - 4
Jeonseo-gu collapsed heroically, like the soldier who ran a marathon from Marathon to Athens without stopping. The resentful glare he shot at Gi Gangwang right before hitting the ground wasn't just my imagination. If I were Jeonseo-gu, I'd have felt a mix of self-loathing and bitterness seeing someone outpace me.
"Oh dear. He must have been exhausted."
Jeonseo-gu's wings twitched feebly at Gi Gangwang's words. Our Jeonseo-gu tried so hard. You don't have to react to that madman's nonsense.
'Get some good sleep and wake up refreshed.' Thankfully, Jeonseo-gu had simply exhausted his stamina—no death or injury. A solid nap, and he'd bounce back good as new. I hoped that when he woke, he'd forget today's ordeal and return to his peaceful, joyful routine.
"Hm. Are you the branch manager of Bojeong-to-bu?"
"Yes, Your Highness! I'm Go Bang, entrusted with far more responsibility than I deserve in managing Bojeong-to-bu!"
In the midst of it all, Gi Gangwang swiftly shifted his attention from Jeonseo-gu to the branch manager. Cruel man. Jeonseo-gu had just collapsed right in front of him because of him.
"I've heard the branch manager has been greatly troubled by the water bandits' disturbances. No matter how far this place is from the Yangtze, allowing water bandits to rampage on Great Song soil is my failing as governor. I intend to inspect the site personally and exterminate these pests threatening the realm's peace."
"Your Highness Gi Gangwang's resolve is truly profound and steadfast!"
Of course, with water bandits taking top priority in Gi Gangwang's mind over any other matter, this was only natural.
"I'll guide you right away, Your Highness!"
"Mm. I like your straightforwardness."
Gi Gangwang gazed at the branch manager with a satisfied expression, thanks to the deep 90-degree bow and booming voice. Truth be told, Gi Gangwang was currently brimming with such zeal that he could fly faster than Jeonseo-gu—short of a grave breach of etiquette, he'd likely overlook anything.
Upon arriving at Hwanggwa-su Great Waterfall, Gi Gangwang stroked his chin, scrutinizing the surroundings meticulously.
"A magnificent sight. A peerless wonder of the world."
He didn't forget to marvel at the waterfall's grandeur—
"Only utter lunatics would turn a place like this into their pirate playground."
—which was just buildup to express his hatred and contempt for the water bandits.
"Your Highness speaks truly. This Hwanggwa-su Great Waterfall was once a treasure bestowed by heaven upon Guiju, where scholars came to feel nature's grandeur and merchants launched boats to soothe their weary bodies and minds. To see it trampled by mere water bandits— as branch manager of Bojeong-to-bu, I hang my head in shame."
The branch manager hurriedly bowed, blaming himself in response to Gi Gangwang's subtle display of anger. While the water bandits' appearance at the waterfall was indeed a failure of management, who could have imagined they'd use a waterfall as a base? Even Gi Gangwang, the foremost water bandit expert of past and present, had rushed here at top speed upon hearing of it.
"Don't blame yourself. When villains clearly commit crimes, how can we fault the Confucian scholar who failed to reform them? Forget what's already happened, branch manager, and ensure it never recurs."
"I shall cherish Your Highness's mercy in my heart for life."
And so Gi Gangwang personally patted the branch manager's shoulder, offering comfort and encouragement. At least two-tenths of that mercy probably stemmed from excitement over fresh water bandits. Had to be.
"Han Un."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"If you were commanding the extermination force, what would you do first?"
Gi Gangwang, still patting the branch manager's shoulder, turned to me with an ominous question.
What would I do first if commanding the extermination force?
"I'd lay out bait to lure them in. Since they targeted wealthy scholars and merchants enjoying the scenery, it should be lavishly bait."
For a split second, 'If I were commanding, I'd toss the authority to someone else first' nearly escaped my lips, but superhuman restraint let me give a safe answer.
"Kehaha, Han Un. No need to hold back in front of me. Ditch the obvious and speak your true mind."
But Gi Gangwang just chuckled and shook his head at my response. A flicker of annoyance surged. Speak your true mind, not the obvious? That's the line of a shitty boss who shoots down every idea for some contrived reason.
"...If it were me, I'd bombard their main haunts, routes, or the waterfall itself to shake their foundation. Even if they abandon ships and flee on land, they're still water bandits, aren't they?"
But when the king says speak, you speak. I suggested smashing the waterfall and surrounding area with cannons. Of course, the branch manager had already proposed mobilizing cannons, only for it to be rejected by Guiju's prefect. Shelling a waterfall to catch bandits was like burning down the thatched house to kill bedbugs.
Still, I mentioned this mad tactic because it seemed like what would satisfy Gi Gangwang. State a normal plan, and I'd just get 'Speak your true mind!' again.
"Spot on. No matter how they flee on land, they're water bandits. Shatter their watery base, and they'll either crawl out or lose combat power drastically."
Thankfully, I was right—Gi Gangwang burst into laughter and nodded.
"Unfortunately, we can't use cannons."
"Yes. Truly regrettable—"
"So we'll smash it another way."
"...Pardon?"
Cold sweat prickled at Gi Gangwang's words. What the hell did that mean? Another way?
'What the hell are you planning?'
Unsettling. Cannons are out, so an alternative to smash the water? No clue what insane stunt he'd pull.
But Gi Gangwang ignored my anxiety, extending his right hand forward and slowly closing his eyes.
"Both of you, step back. It's dangerous."
Jo Wi-cheo, who had been silent, urged me and the branch manager to retreat. Even more unnerving. If a super peak master called it dangerous, what catastrophe was brewing?
'Ah.'
The questions and dread resolved swiftly. Pale green energy gathered in Gi Gangwang's right hand. Winds howled from all directions, trees and rocks tore apart, air screamed. That fresh green energy darkened, becoming a bizarre abyss—green yet black, black yet green.
"Wi-cheo."
"Yes, my lord."
"I should have said 'flee,' not 'step back.'"
Jo Wi-cheo had no reply to the honest sentiment. Even I, a mere first-rate, sensed it instantly: unleashing that technique nearby meant disaster, retreat or no.
- Kki-ing!
- Kki-iiing!
- Kki-oong...!
- Shiiik...!
Even Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i, who had come with us to the waterfall, and Samshik dozing like dead in my sleeve, trembled and clung to me. Grateful for their trust, but useless now. I might need to mount Kki-ing-i and bolt.
"L-Left Vice Censor-in-chief, sir. What in the world is..."
Amid the terror gripping martial artists and spirit beasts alike, the lone civilian branch manager trembled, frozen.
"It's fine. His Highness Gi Gangwang is one of the world's top masters. He knows we're nearby—no issue."
"R-Really?"
"Yes. Relax."
"Then why say 'flee' earlier...?"
"Plug your ears!"
Gi Gangwang's shout had us instinctively covering our ears, and ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■─!!!
An indescribable roar erupted—like wind tearing, wind wailing.
'Whoa.'
The ensuing spectacle was so devastatingly spectacular it erased the roar from memory.
'It's really smashed.'
Hwanggwa-su Great Waterfall split in two. The single cascade became twin streams; nearby falls halted or accelerated.
"Ah, aaa..."
The branch manager clutched his neck, staggering at the awe-inspiring sight. No kidding—it wasn't cannon fire, but damn if it wasn't worse.
'Smashed it harder than cannons could.'
Might've been gentler to just fire the artillery.
There are as many Confucian scholars as there are scriptures, as many gentlemen as there are villages. They lead the world, so their numbers rival half the population.
But the world isn't all light. As many scholars as scriptures, so too bandits as mountains. As gentlemen per village, water bandits wherever there's water. Also half the world—the shadow.
A stigma impossible to erase forever, no matter the effort. The inevitable curse of rulers and politics.
'Water bandits need only water.'
Thus, I operated as the world's shadow. Unfading even under the light's glare.
Unlike others on the Yangtze—suicide in this era—I worked far-off in Guiju. Pirating where Gi Gangwang held sway? Insanity.
'No better spot.'
Guiju was pirate paradise: over ten waterfalls, sparse troops, flocks of rich tourists. Perfect hit-and-run venue.
Overcome the minor waterfall hurdle for smooth ops; escape via falls or land—no ship fixation needed. High gains, zero upkeep. Prime business.
So today, I prepared cheerfully—
"What the fuck."
—only to find the waterfall split. Back from fencing loot, my home and workplace lay in ruins.
'A dream?'
Chaos. I was gone mere days—what happened? Did the officials finally fire cannons?
'...Gotta replan routes.'
I bit my lip. Navigating falls with a ferry demands perfect calculation of flow and force. With this mess, redo from scratch. Map every one of eighteen falls' streams, strengths. All of them.
'Fuck.'
Utter bullshit. Whoever shelled my workplace with cannons or worse—catch them, and I'll strip 'em bare.