What Did You Say? (2)
Rilll...
Clear liquor streamed down in a long, silken thread, like spun white floss, and fell into the cup.
Jang Il-so stared at the rippling surface of the liquor for a moment, then smiled in a way that was somehow strange.
“...They can’t send reinforcements?”
“That is correct.”
“Hmm.”
Jang Il-so’s smile deepened a little. Ho Ga-myeong, however, caught the faint displeasure hidden beneath it at once.
“The reason is...?”
“Never mind.”
Jang Il-so waved a hand as if he had no desire to hear any more.
“I’m sure they spouted nothing but nonsense, anyway. Am I wrong?”
“No, my lord.”
With a soft snort, Jang Il-so slowly took a sip. The fierce, fragrant liquor left its aftertaste in his mouth and spread slowly through his body. Savoring that feeling at a languid pace, he suddenly turned his head and looked out over the Yangtze River.
“So. How does it seem to be playing out?”
“The one showing the strongest intent to stand in open opposition appears to be the Haoman Lord.”
“...Hmm.”
Jang Il-so nodded slowly.
“The Man of Gold will keep his mouth shut, then.”
“He isn’t exactly showing any willingness to cooperate, but neither is he displaying outright hostility. If I were to define the situation precisely, watching and waiting would be the most fitting phrase.”
“Watching and waiting...”
Jang Il-so gave a low laugh.
Well. Could that really be called watching and waiting?
In the sense that he wasn’t stepping forward and was merely observing, the phrase was certainly suitable for describing the Man of Gold’s position right now.
But if one looked beneath the surface, the matter changed somewhat.
By now, the Man of Gold was surely calculating, in a frenzy, how he ought to move in order to benefit most.
“Busy tossing his abacus beads around, I imagine.”
The Yangtze beneath the falling night flowed on, dark and black. Jang Il-so watched it quietly for a moment, lost in thought, before asking, “What about the Water Bandits?”
“Most of them have already been brought under control. There wasn’t much resistance, so it went smoothly.”
It was the sort of thing that would have made the Black Dragon King spit blood in rage if he had heard it, but Ho Ga-myeong was merely reporting the facts as they stood.
“They aren’t entirely satisfied, of course, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone capable of stepping forward in the Black Dragon King’s place, rallying the dissatisfied factions, and putting up resistance.”
“That figures.”
Without taking his eyes off the Yangtze, Jang Il-so sneered.
“A man like the Black Dragon King would never have tolerated a second-in-command.”
The Sapa lived by a single law: victory belonged to the victor, and the victor took everything. It did not matter where one came from, nor what one’s status was. It was a world where the strong seized all.
But that extreme structure was just as cruel to the one who possessed everything. A man who had once taken all there was to take could not help but live under the fear that, someday, everything might be taken from him in turn.
That was why the warlords of Sapa never tolerated anyone who might threaten their place. What they wanted was absolute rule, nothing less.
“A fool’s errand.”
Jang Il-so’s gaze slowly sank.
The Namgung Clan had lost too much here on the Yangtze. The exceptional clan head, Namgung Hwang, the elders who had been pillars of the family, and even its main fighting force had all been cut down.
And yet the Namgung Clan did not collapse. At this very moment, they were struggling to rebuild the sect around Namgung Dowi, who could barely be called anything more than a young brat.
By contrast, the Water Bandits had preserved nearly all of their strength, and yet the mere loss of their leader, the Black Dragon King, had left them stumbling in confusion and disarray. In the end, they had surrendered to Jang Il-so without even putting up a proper fight.
“A comedy.”
That was probably the greatest difference between the righteous sects and Sapa.
At times, monsters appeared within Sapa—beings strong enough to threaten the entire world. Under such leaders, Sapa would trample the righteous and bathe the realm in blood.
But that was all.
The stronger the leader, the greater the void left behind. The moment the influence of an absolute ruler vanished, Sapa would once again descend into brawls among themselves.
That was why Shaolin, with its thousand-year history, existed, while a Sapa faction with even a hundred years behind it was difficult to find.
“From my point of view, it’s not a bad comedy, though.”
Jang Il-so laughed softly.
The Water Bandits, having lost the head known as the Black Dragon King, were now completely in his grasp. That left only the Haoman and the Black Ghost Fort.
Of course, there was still the Mara Blood Palace, but to him it was neither here nor there—something like leftover scraps. If he tried to dominate them in the outer provinces, the cost would outweigh the gains.
“Even if we set the Black Ghost Fort aside, it seems we’ll need to seize the Haoman quickly. In order to wage war against the righteous sects beyond the Yangtze, Haoman’s intelligence network is essential.”
Jang Il-so nodded slowly. He had already been thinking about that necessity for a long time.
This was not merely a matter of the region north of the Yangtze. To govern the swollen Evil Tyrant Alliance efficiently, Haoman’s information network was indispensable.
Ho Ga-myeong exhaled quietly after stealing a glance at Jang Il-so’s expression.
“I never would have thought that Thousand Faces Hand would resist this aggressively. I thought he was the sort who could read the current.”
“He’s doing it because he does read it.”
“...Pardon?”
Jang Il-so wore a faintly twisted smile.
“It’s not that he doesn’t know. It’s because he does. He knows exactly what kind of person I am.”
“...”
“He knows that once you bow your head, you can never raise it again. So while he still has strength left, he’s probably trying to fight back.”
“I understand that part, but... the situation is the situation, isn’t it? Surely someone of his standing knows that now is the time to unite beneath your command and wage war against those hypocrites of the righteous sects.”
“He knows. It’s just that it doesn’t matter.”
Jang Il-so smiled thinly.
“Some people devote their lives to fighting invaders and protecting their country. Others dig through the corpses of the dead to enlarge their own wealth. To Thousand Faces Hand, victory for Sapa probably means very little.”
Ho Ga-myeong gritted his teeth slightly.
Of course he had no intention of denying it. That was the nature of Sapa to begin with. Did they not do whatever was beneficial to them?
But every matter in this world had its proper timing. Now was not the time for them to be tearing each other apart...
“What will you do?”
“Hmm.”
White hands folded together and came to rest over his knees. The rings decorating his long fingers clinked softly against one another.
“For the time being, let’s just leave them be, Ga-myeong.”
Jang Il-so’s voice had taken on a faint, nasal edge.
“If I’m honest, I’d like to go there myself and teach him exactly where he stands... but.”
A surge of murderous intent flashed in Jang Il-so’s eyes. He stared out at the Yangtze with a gaze so chilling it was enough to make one’s skin crawl, then gradually let the strength drain from his body and shook his head.
“That won’t do. Those monk bastards need me far too much, don’t they?”
His quiet chuckling spread across the still river.
After watching him for a moment, Ho Ga-myeong finally spoke in a low voice.
“Alliance Lord. May I ask one thing?”
“Mm?”
He lowered his posture and asked, “I don’t misunderstand what you’re thinking. Merely by existing here, Alliance Lord, they will fracture and turn upon one another.”
In other words, by simply remaining here, Jang Il-so was already reaping enormous profits at this very moment.
“But, Alliance Lord. No matter how much they split, if the Evil Tyrant Alliance itself cannot stand properly, then we won’t be able to exploit that opening. Is that not why one must first cultivate the self before ordering the family, then the state, then all under heaven? I find it difficult to understand why you’re leaving them alone.”
“Tsk, tsk.”
Jang Il-so clicked his tongue and poured more liquor into his cup.
“Ga-myeong, Ga-myeong.”
“Yes, Alliance Lord.”
“You look at that monk too lightly.”
“...Pardon?”
A twisted smile curved Jang Il-so’s lips.
“It’s true that he’s being tossed about this way and that, but he isn’t some easy fool. If he were, he’d already have been swallowed whole by that Hua Shan Sword Saint. Even so, he’s still someone who can wear the title of Shaolin Abbot.”
“...”
“If we retreat and start tidying up our rear, he’ll do the same and start preparing for us from behind. For now, keeping that man’s feet tied is our highest priority.”
“But even if Beop Jeong doesn’t leave this place, can’t he still use the current situation to rally the Ten Great Sects?”
“He can.”
“Then shouldn’t we stop him?”
Jang Il-so looked at Ho Ga-myeong with an odd smile.
“Do you really think we can stop them from gathering?”
“...Pardon?”
“Ga-myeong. You underestimate the venom of those who already hold power. The reason they aren’t banding together right now is because they think we’re easy to handle. If we truly became a threat, they’d set aside every old grudge and unite as one. They’ve always been like that.”
Ho Ga-myeong had no choice but to nod.
It was true enough. When the world was peaceful, the so-called Ten Great Sects would busy themselves with power struggles among their own ranks, but the moment calamity descended, they would unite as if nothing had ever happened and fight the enemy together.
What guarantee was there that they would be any different just because their opponent was the Evil Tyrant Alliance?
“Even if we drive them into a corner like this, we won’t gain anything. What we truly need is something else.”
“...May I ask what that is?”
Jang Il-so’s mouth twisted.
“Fear.”
“...Pardon?”
“Fear. Yes, fear. But not...”
A malicious smile crept across Jang Il-so’s face, while his eyes remained dark and sunken.
“Not fear of us. Something a little more trivial. A little more worthless.”
Ho Ga-myeong could not understand what Jang Il-so meant. But he could not summon the nerve to ask again. Even though the other man’s voice was not especially emotional, some unknown oppressive force weighed down the entire surrounding space.
“Do you know what a man does first when fear has taken hold of him?”
“...”
“He looks for a way to save his own skin.”
Jang Il-so’s face wore a faint trace of something ghostly.
“He throws away all those empty pretenses of righteousness and justice and goes searching for his own path to survive. Isn’t that human nature?”
“...Alliance Lord.”
“Let’s see, then. I wonder how long those magnificent Buddhists can resist their own nature.”
Jang Il-so slowly licked his liquor-moistened lips.
It’s almost done. Almost.
He could see it.
Not the obvious cracks between factions that anyone could observe on the surface. He could see the tiny fracture created by the wedge driven into Beop Jeong’s heart.
The crack, widened little by little with painstaking care, would finally produce meaningful results. The time had come to ripen.
Just a little more...
And then, right at that moment—
“A-Alliance Lord!”
Someone rushed to his feet and dropped prostrate before him.
“S-something’s happened.”
“Hm?”
Jang Il-so looked down at him with bored eyes.
“What is it? Surely not an attack from Haoman.”
“Th-that is...”
The man on the ground lifted a face gone pale as paper and began spilling the words out in a rush.
“...What did you say?”
After hearing the report in full, a violent reaction burst from Ho Ga-myeong’s mouth—one unlike any he had shown before.
“Is that absolutely certain?”
“Y-yes, sir!”
Ho Ga-myeong fell silent for a moment, staring blankly ahead. His face was instantly stripped bare and flooded with despair.
“W-why... at a time like this...”
Even he, who had proven his ability as the strategist of the Manin Sect countless times, could do nothing in this moment except freeze in bewilderment. He hurriedly checked Jang Il-so’s expression.
Clatter-rattle-rattle!
The tightly packed rings on both of Jang Il-so’s hands struck out a harsh metallic sound. Contrary to that threatening motion, however, a thick smile lingered at the corners of his mouth.
“So that’s why...”
He slowly rose to his feet.
“That’s why life is so interesting. Because things like this happen—variables no one could ever have imagined.”
Madness flickered in his eyes. Jang Il-so bared his white teeth. It was a smile filled with thick rage and vile delight.