Kaifeng Awaits

The chill of dawn had passed, and morning sunlight broke over the world.

The moment we opened our eyes, we found ourselves in a city of Henan called Kaifeng.

It was home to the Beggar Sect's headquarters, and one of the Seven Great Capitals of the Central Plains — a city whose commerce had flourished on the back of the Grand Canal.

"Boss, your eyes look like death. Did you not sleep at all?"

Ilhong, who had taken the last watch, asked me with a bright, well-rested face.

"Yeah. Barely caught a wink."

Hardly surprising, when the woman who'd declared she would kill the Heavenly Killing Star had done so right in front of the Heavenly Killing Star itself.

We'd shared the night watch and even slept nearby. A proper night's rest had never been in the cards.

I glanced at the enormous greatsaber strapped across Jo Harang's back and rubbed my neck with a shiver.

"Did something happen with Heroine Jo Harang?"

"Thankfully, nothing at all."

At first I'd wondered if she'd said that to probe my identity or test my reaction. But as I watched her, I felt no killing intent, and she snored so soundly and so shamelessly that I'd finally let my guard down.

Salsung, however — that blood-red presence — was still watching her with every sense stretched taut.

Today, at least, I wanted to praise that dogged vigilance. She's a person of interest. Keep an eye on her.

"Mujin! Look at this! I've never seen a canal this huge!"

Jo Harang, on the other hand, had poured out her dreams and her honest heart the night before, and now she was chatting me up with her sense of intimacy dialed all the way up. She'd told me I'd "built up some good karma," as if she'd finally found someone she could trust. Did she see things the way I did, too?

"Mujin! Mujin! Look over there! There's a boat the size of a house floating on the water!"

"That hurts — stop hitting me when you talk."

That was one of her quirks I'd learned about last night. When she got excited, she had a habit of smacking your shoulder while she spoke — with no concept of how strong she actually was.

And every time her hand made contact, Salsung thrashing like a wildcat that had just met its natural predator, hissing shaaa! in my head.

"Whoa!"

"So this is the famous Kaifeng!"

"It's as glittering and lively as Beijing!"

Family Head Jo and the rest of the sightseeing party were just as busy gawking at the city gates with their eyes round as saucers. For all their previous travels, this was apparently their first time in Kaifeng. The colossal canal cutting through the city, and the ships ferrying cargo along waterways that linked to countless other towns, had them spinning in place.

"If you've come to Kaifeng, you have to start with the Iron Pagoda of Kaibao Temple! I need to see that height that supposedly reaches the heavens with my own two eyes!"

"What are you talking about? We should go to the marketplace first — the City That Never Sleeps! They say there's nothing you can't find there!"

Family Head Jo's brothers were practically bouncing with excitement. He suggested the party split up to tour for a few days and then reconvene here — a proposal he casually floated to us vagabonds.

Truly, the rich lived free of care.

"Mujin, where are you going to go sightseeing first?"

Jo Harang asked, her eyes sparkling. For some reason, every time I looked at her, my gaze went first to that murderous greatsaber. She wasn't seriously planning to tag along, was she?

"Somewhere you aren't."

"Wow, that's harsh!"

She stuck out her lip as if wounded.

"I'm kidding. Rather than go play, I'm turning the bandits over to the yamen first, and I've got a few things to look into. So you go sightseeing on your own."

On our way in through the city gates, people had already started murmuring at the sight of the bound bandits. Family Head Jo had been puffing his chest as if he himself had led the suppression. For the record, I was the one who'd beaten them down. Why did every ink-stained scholar have such a thirst for glory?

"H-Hero! Please, just this once! We'll live good lives from now on!"

"Yeah. Don't believe you."

With the yamen right in front of them, the bandits begged and pleaded for a second chance, swearing they'd turn over a new leaf. But the thick, evil karmic slaughter piled up on them made it clear that was never going to happen.

A man proves himself not by his mouth, but by the deeds he has stacked up until now.

Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!

I swung my Dog-Beating Staff with gusto and put every last bandit back to sleep. Maybe my realm had risen a little — the solid, satisfying impact at my fingertips was delicious. Unconscious bandits piled up on the cart.

"Mmm, the yamen's not really my thing… Alright, see you later, Mujin!"

No. We would not be seeing each other later. I planned to avoid her with everything I had.

I waved as Jo Harang strode off with a spring in her step.

"But where did Ilhong go just now?"

We'd been talking only a moment ago. I scanned the throng for a tall, handsome boy.

"Boss…!"

Off in the distance, I spotted Ilhong being dragged away by the arm by the Jo family's youngest daughter. Jo Yeongyeong was busy persuading him that she would take him somewhere wonderful and treat him to delicious food — and Ilhong, abandoning that golden opportunity for luxury, was mouthing Help! at me.

"Hmm. Should I rescue him…?"

If it had been me, I'd have played along, gotten dragged off, eaten well, and enjoyed Kaifeng's charms. Whether I ought to help or not was a little ambiguous.

"Hey! I can see you standing there!"

Well. Even a thousand gold pieces were worthless if the person himself didn't want them. I resigned myself and moved.

Rescued (?) from Jo Yeongyeong's entranced courtship, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Ilhong let out a long breath of relief.

"You saved me, Boss. Thank you."

"What for? You didn't even need me to save you, did you?"

Ilhong shook that slender jaw in answer.

"Jo Yeongyeong — her eyes were a little dangerous."

"Well, you're handsome enough to make them roll."

Ilhong was exactly the kind of doll-pretty pretty-boy that girls that age went wild for. In the modern world, he could have debuted as an idol and spent his days collecting squeals.

"Anyway, when I start my youth enterprise, don't come anywhere near me."

"…That's a cold thing to say."

Ilhong pouted at my restraining order.

"You're basically a natural disaster, kid."

If anyone had the right to feel slighted, it was me — decent features and still getting zero interest.

"You couldn't run a youth enterprise anyway, Boss."

"What? Why not?"

"…There's a reason."

With a meaningful look, Ilhong muttered something mosquito-quiet that sounded a lot like because I'm a…

I'd saved this kid and the thanks I got was a curse on my future prospects? Next time Jo Yeongyeong dragged him off, I was leaving him.

"Who the hell are you people?"

While we talked, the entrance to the Kaifeng yamen came into view. The constables' eyes went round as a cart loaded with rough-looking men was shoved across the threshold by sheer brute force. I explained that these were the bandits who'd been plaguing the area around Kaifeng. Shortly after, a man called Tongpan Yang came out and began inspecting the bandits' faces.

"So these are the ones who were raising hell on Mount Danghwi?"

"Yes, sir. The descriptions match across the board."

"Then why bring them all in alive? Just makes more work."

He might as well have said it would have been easier for everyone if we'd cut their heads off and packed them in salt.

"See, Boss?"

Ilhong, who had already looked sour about taking them alive alongside Jo Harang, shot me an I-told-you-so look.

What a barbaric age. Cut their heads off for everything, why don't you.

"Well, it's been a while since we had a public execution to soothe the people's hearts. Not a bad thing, is it, Tongpan Yang?"

"Ugh… fine, then."

In this era, the execution of villains was a grand spectacle. Preparing it would mean more work, but the popular response made it worth the trouble — and so Tongpan Yang nodded, however reluctantly.

"So, ah… about that little something you ought to be handing over now."

I trailed off and rubbed my hands together. Tongpan Yang made an ah, right sound and gestured to the constables. A moment later, thirteen gleaming silver coins were pressed into my palm — exactly one for each bandit head.

"Uh, Constable, sir. These were Green Forest Eighteen Strongholds men. Is this really all?"

"…Green Forest Eighteen Strongholds, my foot. All impostors. Their martial skill was only about Third-class Realm, wasn't it?"

"Well… yes."

Damn it. So they hadn't been the real paid-road bandits after all? No wonder most of them had been Third-class trash, with only one or two scraping Second-class Realm.

"Tch. I was planning to blow the bounty on mountain-and-sea delicacies at a high-class inn."

We still needed two rooms for several days and three meals a day — and this sum was going to be a little tight. At best we could stretch it to plain noodles with dumplings and maybe some rice-flower sparrow on the side. As befit a commercial city, room rates and prices were murderous. I did have a dagger worth twenty gold coins tucked away, but that was before I converted it to cash.

"We only need one room, Boss."

"Ahem. What nonsense. Men and women must keep their places."

"Tch. You treat me like a guy most of the time, and now you remember…"

I could practically hear the Confucian dragon inside me stirring. Ilhong grumbled for a moment, clearly unhappy with that ironclad rejection.

"Then how about we catch another wanted criminal?"

"Hey, the yamen puts out warrants because even they can't find them. How are we supposed to know where they are?"

Ilhong thumped a confident hand against that slender chest.

"And who am I?"

"Hmm. A gigolo who bewitches women?"

"…"

I'd only been joking, but that stare was scorching.

"The heir of the Haomu Gate Lord, who knows everything except what she doesn't know?"

"Exactly that."

Ilhong clapped as if I'd hit the answer.

"One of the Haomu Gate's main businesses was tracking people. We sold locations to trackers and bounty hunters and collected the fees. As part of my succession training I was educated in it, and with a memory that's hard to believe, I poured over the ledgers so many times that I mostly remember their hideouts, movements, disguises — all of it."

"Ohh…"

What a windfall. So that tiny head of hers was packed full of information that could make a fortune?

I grabbed Ilhong's hand and ran for the yamen wall plastered with wanted posters. Coarse hemp cloths flapped in the wind, each one densely inked with a criminal's face, physical features, and known movements.

"But none of these are small-time crooks, are they?"

As I read through the crimes and charges one by one, something about them felt distinctly not ordinary.

"Right. If the yamen bothers to put out a warrant, they're all major villains."

Unlike the Vagabond Association, which would match even petty jobs to low-rank vagabonds as long as you paid, the yamen seemed to reserve its warrants for those who had a serious impact on ordinary people's lives. Catching them meant staking your own life to some degree.

"Especially this one — the Bloodsucking Demon. Just like the name, he's a monster who drains people's vital blood. He recently butchered someone of high rank, so the bounty should have doubled."

Fifty gold coins at minimum, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠apparently. I quietly memorized the face, features, and movements drawn on the poster. Not that I'd retain them for long the way Ilhong would.

"But why suck the blood of commoners? If you're going to kill them, just kill them."

"Half for fun, half for demonic arts training, apparently. Because of him, an entire village of hundreds was wiped out once."

In the modern world, even a single lunatic on a rampage had limits to the damage he could do. Here, with martial arts training, one man could equal a hundred or a thousand — so when a high-level master turned out to be a complete maniac, the destruction could be truly insane.

"Hm? There's a familiar face here."

Among the posters, I spotted an old man with a long, trailing beard like a Daoist's.

"Boss, this one's a warrant put out by the Beggar Sect headquarters."

The appearance and features looked very much like someone I knew well.

"Isn't this… Hwang Geolgae?"

"Yes. It's Elder Hwang."

Ilhong answered my doubtful question with absolute certainty. The look of a transcendent Daoist sage — complete ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with pork grease shining around the mouth — was pure Hwang Geolgae.

"Ten silver coins for meaningful information, two gold for decisive intel, ten gold if you actually find him…?"

The warrant promised a considerable sum — they must have been desperate.

"…Boss. You're not seriously ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠going to turn him in, are you?"

When I put on a thoughtful face, Ilhong looked at me with faintly appalled eyes.

Come to think of it, the Beggar Sect's headquarters was right here. The Beggar Sect disciples must have been desperately searching for the Dragon Head Sect Leader who'd simply vanished one day.

"How many pieces of silver did Judas sell Jesus for again?"

I stroked my chin, fishing through my memory. Twenty pieces of silver, was it? This side was offering pure yellow gold, so at minimum I'd be getting more than that.

Honestly, what an irresponsible old man. Tens of thousands of disciples hunting for him high and low, and he spent every day drowning in wine and playing at being a Daoist.

"Maybe this is for the Beggar Sect's own good."

Left to his own devices, that old man had provoked the Emperor over a game of go and gotten the Beggar Sect banned from the palace, among other public nuisances. Drunk, he'd pulled enough bizarre stunts to earn the name Bluffing Daoist.

Maybe it was time he stopped causing trouble and went back to his sect.

"Shall we go take a look at Beggar Sect headquarters?"

If you'd come all the way to Kaifeng, it was a place you ought to visit at least once. I tossed my Dog-Beating Staff onto my shoulder and turned the thought over.

In Kaifeng — the ancient capital of countless beggars, scattered across the Central Plains — the Beggar Sect's headquarters stood. And today, the administrative hall known as the Hall of Beggar Righteousness was packed with high-ranking figures of the Beggar Sect, including the Seven Knot Elder.

The reason for the gathering was simple. A letter stamped with the Dragon Head Sect Leader's personal seal had arrived.

"Then I shall open the Dragon Head Sect Leader's letter."

Seven Knot Elder Chwi Oksan's voice rang out. When he broke the seal, the room went so still that even breathing seemed too loud.

With those words, Chwi Oksan fell silent. Everyone waited for the rest — but his mouth stayed firmly shut and refused to move.

At last someone, half in dread, asked the question for them all.

"Surely… that isn't the entire letter?"

Chwi Oksan flipped the page over with a look of pure bewilderment.

"It would seem so. There's nothing more."

"Hah…"

Not a word about what the boy looked like, what sort of person he was, or when he might arrive — one utterly absurd letter. And yet, if anything was like the Dragon Head Sect Leader, this was.

Everyone present sighed and shook their heads.