The Seal-Holding Grand Eunuch
For the past few days, golden armor had been flashing all around the estate.
Under the sunlight they stood out from every direction, unmistakable — like a golden wall ringing the manor.
The imperial troops had pulled back from the main gate, but they still held a wide, thin cordon around the estate and refused to lift the siege.
Trapped inside without a way out were the members of the Byeok Clan and the detective agency crew.
"Ugh. What kind of misery is this."
At first light, Ilhong slipped into a quiet corner of the estate no one ever visited and carefully peeled off her human-skin mask.
Then she prepared to wash her face. From her robes she drew the kind of fine cleansing kit noble daughters were said to use — fragrant soaps and soft cloths.
Even in this mess of a situation, there was someone she wanted to look good for, so every morning she put up with the bother of tending her appearance.
Of course, the problem was that the person in question still thought of her as little more than a "pretty boy."
Sometimes he even told her not to come near him because she was getting in the way of his romantic prospects. To her, that was just about the most galling thing she had ever heard.
"This damned male disguise. I'm starting to forget I'm even a woman."
A proper disguise meant changing everything — face, build, even habits of movement. Ilhong eyed the human-skin mask that had turned her from a woman into a young man with a faint, resentful glare.
When would she finally be able to stand in front of him barefaced and unashamed?
"One way or another, I've got to take back the Haomu Gate."
That was the only path that would let her walk openly again.
Once she had burned to reclaim the Haomu Gate out of pure revenge. Now there was a second, far more productive reason on top of it.
"Heuk Jin-jo. Jong Gwang. Baek Myo…"
She murmured the traitors' names every day so she would never forget them.
She finished washing with a few vigorous splashes, wiped the water away, and turned her pale, clear face into the sunlight—
"Ah. So you weren't a brother after all — you were a sister. No wonder you looked so pretty."
"…"
At the cheeky little voice that popped up between the buildings, Ilhong's fingertips went rigid.
She looked up. The kid whose name sounded a bit like the boss's — Byeok Muji — was poking his face over the wall.
"…Where the hell did you even come from."
She had deliberately chosen a place people almost never visited.
"This is my house. Secret passages, out-of-the-way corners — I know them all."
That was how he had managed to hide when disaster hit the clan, he explained. His words stirred memories of the Haomu Gate in Ilhong. She, too, had survived that night's coup by knowing every mechanism, formation, and emergency route.
"But I don't think I've ever seen anyone prettier than my own sister. Why hide a face like that?"
At the pure, artless question, Ilhong hurriedly gathered her loose hair and tied it back into a ponytail.
"…Can you keep it secret? I've got my reasons."
"You people saved my family. Of course I'll keep it secret."
Byeok Muji's answer was surprisingly solemn. Even so, Ilhong drove the nail in one more time.
"For the record, you're the only one who knows. If this gets out to anyone, I'll assume it was you and act accordingly."
A few others already knew, of course — but just in case, she wanted it locked down.
"Come on, you don't have to scare me. I won't talk."
Byeok Muji shrugged, as if to say she had nothing to worry about. Lately he had decided to model himself after his ideal, Big Brother Dan Mujin.
Only then did Ilhong relax enough to pick up the human-skin mask again and start pulling her male disguise back into place.
"So. Why come looking for me?"
"Big Brother told me to bring you. I couldn't find you anywhere, so I was searching… Oh, wait — does Big Brother know you're a girl too?"
"…He doesn't."
Having just insisted that this secret was known only to the boy, Ilhong found herself spinning another lie right on top of the first.
"So that's why he treats you like one of the guys. That's funny."
Ilhong did not find it funny at all.
The boss already knew she was a woman — and still treated her like a boy. That was the part that twisted her insides the worst.
Even thinking about it again made her so furious she stamped her foot right where she stood.
"Judging by that reaction, you've got feelings for Big Brother, huh?"
"…What is a little kid like you talking about. Stay out of grown-up business."
At Ilhong's snappish answer, Byeok Muji flared up this time.
"Ha? I'm not a little kid. You're only two years older than me, so what's with that."
The words yanked an old memory up from nowhere.
Her own self, only a year younger, grumbling not to be treated like a child. Had the boss felt exactly like this back then?
"It's the face, right? Our Big Brother is pretty handsome."
They had barely met and he was already saying our Big Brother.
Ilhong narrowed her eyes at Byeok Muji and opened her mouth.
"Face, nothing. Don't you remember what happened at the inn? When the bomb dropped?"
She meant the time something like a thunder bomb had clunked down by their feet and he had thrown himself over her like a human meat shield.
"You think people like that are common?"
A person's true nature came out in a crisis. She asked whether he could ever do that much for someone else, and Byeok Muji looked uncomfortable.
"…Mmm. Even for family, that's hard."
"But our boss did it. Without a second of hesitation."
It had turned out to be a flash bomb rather than a real thunder bomb, which took a little of the drama out of it — but still. Thanks to that moment she had been crushed in the boss's arms and gained a memory she would never forget.
"Of course the face is… a little. Fine. I'll admit it's not bad."
Ilhong muttered it under her breath.
He usually lived like a slob who never bothered with his looks, but when he dressed up like a young nobleman the way he had for that male-courtesan job, the features came alive into something striking.
"But character matters more."
It hadn't only been the inn. He had come running for her whenever she needed him, rolled through the mud fighting at her side, and stared death in the face more than once.
After a betrayal so raw she had sworn never to trust anyone again, he was the only one who had melted the walls around her heart like soft wax.
"You're completely gone on him, huh. Too bad Big Brother only sees you as a guy and doesn't seem interested at all."
"You little pipsqueak of a—"
Sometimes children were the cruelest. The Byeok Clan boy had casually driven a spike straight into the sore spot.
Ilhong's fists trembled for a moment; then she forced a look of indifference and shot back.
"Sigh. What's the point of explaining anything to a little brat like you. It just wears me out."
"I told you, two years. Why do you keep calling me a brat."
Little kids always hated being called little kids.
And so the two of them — both admiring Dan Mujin in their own very different ways — were scuffling in a quiet corner when, over the stone wall stacked as high as a fortress, something heavy came sailing across with a roar.
THUD!
A massive iron sphere arced through the air and slammed into the ground not far from them.
"…!"
Byeok Muji and Ilhong both saw the burning fuse. Neither waited for the other to speak. They threw themselves clear at the same instant.
KWA-BOOM—!
Several days had passed since the imperial troops surrounded the estate and cut off all coming and going. Fortunately, the stores of food inside the manor were ample.
For an ordinary estate, the stone walls and main gate were absurdly sturdy. As a facility that manufactured firearms and artillery, it clearly showed every sign of preparation against invasion and banditry.
"Thanks to that, we're eating pretty well for people under siege."
After morning training my stomach always growled. I was chewing a wheat cake and walking alone through a small green garden when a sudden chill prickled the back of my neck and a fierce sense of danger surged up.
Dodge, you idiot…!
The sharp warning of my shared-fate parasite, Salsung.
"…!"
I threw myself aside without a second thought. Something round arced through the air and buried itself in the spot where I had been standing — an iron sphere with a burning fuse.
And the instant the flame vanished into the shell—
KWA-BOOOOM—!
An explosion like a giant thunder bomb tore through the garden.
Earth erupted skyward. The blast wave hit like a physical blow. The firepower was enough to erase the whole area in a heartbeat.
"Oh my god. What the fuck."
The curse slipped out of my mouth on its own.
If flesh and bone took that hit dead-on, could even a master of the Transcendental Peak Realm walk away in one piece?
That ugly question was still crawling around in my head when—
"Troubleshooter! Troubleshooter!"
A frantic voice called my name. It belonged to a certain woman who had once, through a completely unintentional misunderstanding, showered me with bombs and nearly trampled me flat.
"Miss Byeok Nana? What's wrong?"
"The imperial army! They've brought cannons and started bombarding our estate!"
So that was it. For an iron sphere that size to reach the middle of the manor, of course they would be using imperial ordnance.
KWAANG! KRROOOM!
Before she even finished speaking, another shell slammed into the stone wall. The range was a little farther, but the sheer force of the blast still brought a stretch of the wall crashing down.
They had brought more than one cannon. The guns belched fire one after another, hurling shells into the estate.
Pillars of flame began to rise all across the grounds. Luckily the accuracy was garbage and the shells often detonated late, so people were managing to scatter on their own — but still.
"Guess I shouldn't put on any more fireworks shows in Beijing."
Catch the palace's eye and the imperial army would come stampeding in with cannons. One hard-earned lesson for the books.
KWAANG!
Another shell punched empty ground, but the earth under my feet still heaved, and the threat felt very real.
Even the trained martial artists of the Byeok Clan could only flee, helpless, from shells raining down from so far away.
"Cowards! Fight us fair with spear and blade instead of this!"
How dare they resort to sorcery. I bellowed toward the cannons.
I used to laugh at the people on TV who charged gun muzzles with spears and swords. Looking at it now, I was exactly that guy.
"But who am I?"
"…Excuse me?"
Byeok Nana blinked round eyes at my muttering.
"The all-purpose troubleshooter and Transcendental Peak master, Dan Mujin — that's who!"
I unfolded Seonpungbo, Whirlwind Steps, and my body shot forward like a streak of wind. Her startled cry rode along with the charge.
Taat!
I used the stone wall as a springboard and launched myself into the air. A shell came flying. I whipped both arms out and snagged it mid-flight.
Papapat
Impact fuses were still a very difficult technology in this era. Even Byeok Nana had called the delayed impact fuses she had scattered on the mountain experimental prototypes.
So as long as the fuse hadn't burned down yet, I could catch and throw it back. Softness overcoming hardness — the principle of wrapping force with yielding strength.
More precisely, it was the martial art Hwang Geolgae had shown me: the technique that felt like it would crack your skull open and somehow never did. It was flowing through my fingertips right now.
Buung.
My waist folded like a drawn bowstring. I bled off every scrap of the shell's inertia and hurled it back at them the way you would throw a giant iron shot-put.
KWA-BOOOOM—!
The shell they had fired came screaming home and detonated near the cannon. The imperial troops recoiled in pure horror.
Their glittering golden armor rippled and fell back in open panic.
Buung.
KWA-BOOOOM—!
I vaulted into the air a second time, snatched another shell, and sent it home. The one-sided bombardment of the estate cut off cold.
They had finally realized the shells could come back for them, and they no longer dared fire so freely.
"This is insane… What the hell is that bastard?!"
Chiliarch Jang Son of the imperial forces roared. The completely unheard-of stunt of "returning shells to sender" had drained the color from his face.
"Mujin, I was on my way over and I saw that — how did you even do it?"
Jo Harang had come running at the sound of the bombardment. She stared at the scorched ground near the cannons with bright, curious eyes.
"Spend a whole day trading punches with Hwang Geolgae and you'll be able to do it too."
"I'm kind of scared of that old man. His eyes are a little… off."
"Just the eyes? Plenty of things about that old man are off."
While we were busy badmouthing Hwang Geolgae at an odd moment, the imperial troops hauled the cannons and remaining shells back out of range in case of a chain detonation, and the field sank into a temporary lull.
In the meantime the soldiers stared up at us standing tall on the stone wall and muttered among themselves.
"What was that just now…"
"Did he seriously catch a cannonball bare-handed and throw it back?"
"He's not a human cannon. Can Murim masters actually do that?"
The imperial lines that had been so full of confidence were buzzing over the stunt I had just pulled.
And beyond them, Chiliarch Jang Son was glaring at me with burning eyes — the man who had just watched his plan get wrecked — like he wanted me dead on the spot.
"A mere troubleshooter dares interfere in imperial business. Do you truly wish to be branded a traitor and see your entire bloodline wiped out?"
Standing against the imperial army was the same as standing against the Emperor himself, he declared, and then he dragged out the threat of collective punishment.
If it came to it, he would slaughter three generations. A thoroughly vicious threat.
"I don't have a family, though."
"…Your relatives. And that pitiful little agency of yours. Everyone there could suffer. Withdraw at once. And hand over Clan Head Byeok Jinsang."
See that? He was clearly here on someone's orders.
"Once I take a job, seeing it through to the end is my motto. I'm afraid I can't do that."
As I spoke I poured Sword Force into the ordinary iron sword I had borrowed from a Byeok Clan martial artist.
I still couldn't project it outward, but the pure white blaze of Sword Force was the mark of a true master — a force that could cut not only iron weapons but even weapon qi itself.
Beside me, Jo Harang raised her greatsaber as if she meant to share my fate, and blue Saber Force roared up around the blade in a murderous haze.
Reading the battle will of two fighters at the Transcendental Peak Realm, Chiliarch Jang Son's face twisted in an instant.
The tense standoff dragged on — until a voice like a thunderclap suddenly shook the whole battlefield.
"What lunatic is detonating artillery shells in the imperial capital of Beijing?"
The voice was not loud, yet deep inner power rode it and made the whole area ring.
An aging voice, and somehow familiar. I had met him once in Baekyang Village and once at the Princess's palace — the sharp-eyed middle-aged man who was Princess Dohwa's closest retainer.
"Huh? Old m—"
"Finish that sentence and you die."
The killing intent in his voice was so real I swallowed the rest of the word in a hurry.
"Ahem. Lord Cheon Su-gong… what brings you here?"
I asked in a carefully bewildered tone as he came closer.
"There has been an explosion in the imperial capital. Of course the Eastern Depot, which is responsible for the Son of Heaven's safety, must investigate."
Put that way, it made perfect sense. Investigating anything that threatened the imperial household was exactly what the Eastern Depot did.
I had just been getting tangled up with them for so many other reasons lately that I had almost forgotten.
"Then what about you? Why are you standing against the imperial army at the very site of an explosion?"
Cheon Su-gong's eyes glittered with a hard light as he asked.
"It's a long story."
"Tell it anyway."
I gave him the short version of everything so far. The internal strife in the Byeok Clan. The suspicious traitor backing Byeok Jinsang. And my suspicion that the imperial commander over there was in the Second Prince's pocket.
By the time he had heard it all, Cheon Su-gong's expression had twisted into something complicated.
"Who do you think you are! No matter how high a Murim master you may be, to interfere so casually in imperial affairs—!"
Chiliarch Jang Son, outraged by the sudden intrusion, shouted with a face full of fury.
"This one is Cheon Su-gong, who serves the Third Princess."
Just one short answer. And at those few words, the chiliarch's expression began to freeze solid.
"Cheon Su-gong? You don't mean… the Seal-Holding Grand Eunuch of the Eastern Depot… Cheon Su-gong?"
The man who had been treating me like some insolent Murim ruffian suddenly snapped into formal speech, his face drained with shock.
The Eastern Depot was a terrifying presence even inside the palace — but an imperial army officer ought to have some weight of his own. Why was he this scared?
I tilted my head, genuinely puzzled.
"Hey, Ilhong. What's a Seal-Holding Grand Eunuch supposed to be?"
I asked the question point-blank of Ilhong, who had come huffing and puffing all the way to my side the moment the fighting settled into a lull.
"S-Seal-Holding Grand Eunuch? Boss, you really don't know what that is?"
"Of course I don't."
Knowing the fine details of ancient Chinese official ranks would have been the weird thing.
"Seal-Holding Director of Ceremonial Affairs — in other words, the head of the entire Eastern Depot!"
"Ahh…"
With that eye-level explanation, I understood at once. No wonder he was insanely strong for a eunuch.
The man wasn't just some high-ranking figure in the Eastern Depot. He was the top of the whole organization.
That explained why everyone around him at the Princess's palace had been so carefully tiptoeing in his presence.
"So that's why the palace people jumped every time I treated him casually."
I smacked my palm with a fist in a little gesture of enlightenment.
"Now that you know his real rank, are you finally going to stop being so reckless around him?"
Ilhong asked. She had broken out in a cold sweat every time I crossed the line with someone above me.
"Nah. People who suddenly change who they are tend to die. Better stick to what I've been doing."
"…"
I was a man of principle. Consistent, even.
And more than anything else, the idea of groveling in front of that guy just plain pissed me off.
Ilhong read the stubbornness for what it was and shook her head as if she had long since given up trying to stop me.