So You Say? (3)
"D-Director!"
"What’s all the fuss about?"
"T-the strategist has arrived!"
"What? Already?"
The face of Gwak Bo, the director of the Myriad Man Sect’s Heart’s Content Brigade, went white.
"W-wasn’t he supposed to arrive at least two more days from now?"
"That’s what I understood as well, but..."
Gwak Bo hurriedly looked outside. The ships that were to carry them to Hainan were nowhere near ready, and yet Ho Ga-myeong had already arrived—two full days ahead of schedule.
"H-how are we supposed to..."
He had been staring blankly at the vessels still under construction when he suddenly jerked and shouted.
"N-no, this isn’t the time! Where is the strategist now?"
"He just entered the outskirts a moment ago!"
"Line up! Stop everything and line up! The strategist is coming! What are you doing, you damned fools? I said line up, now!"
At the word strategist, the gathered men nearly jumped out of their skins and rushed clumsily toward Gwak Bo. The commotion drew the eyes of the laborers, who looked over at him in confusion.
"You keep doing what you’re doing! Don’t stop your hands!"
"Yes, sir."
The Myriad Man Sect martial artists who had gathered quickly stood in neat rows, their faces taut with tension. All eyes were fixed on the forest path that led this way.
Drip.
Thick beads of sweat slid down several faces.
It wasn’t only because of the blazing sun.
The Heart’s Content Brigade was the group responsible for managing the Myriad Man Sect’s operations. Together with the strategist office, which served as Ho Ga-myeong’s hands and feet, it was effectively one of Ho Ga-myeong’s direct organizations.
So it was only natural that they would be nervous—after all, their direct superior was suddenly showing up on site ahead of schedule.
"S-straighten up!"
"Yes, sir!"
Someone’s hard swallow rang out clearly in the silence.
Before long, a group of martial artists emerged along the path cutting through the bushes ahead.
Step. Step. Step.
Leading a force of fighters, Ho Ga-myeong walked to the shore at an unhurried pace.
In the deathly silence, his gaze moved from left to right. His face was as cold as ever, but his eyes missed nothing, sweeping over every detail of the beach and all that was happening there.
"We greet the strategist!"
"We greet the strategist!"
The Heart’s Content Brigade members lined up on both sides and dropped to their knees in unison.
The Myriad Man Sect was now a fearsome power that dominated not only Guangdong, but all of Jiangnan.
Within it, only two men were worthy of receiving such kneeling obeisance: the sect leader, Jang Il-so, and the strategist, Ho Ga-myeong.
One could easily guess from this sight just how firmly Ho Ga-myeong stood within the Myriad Man Sect.
Gwak Bo lay flat on the ground and stole a furtive glance at Ho Ga-myeong, but it was not easy to read a mind from that perpetually cold expression.
"Director."
Then Ho Ga-myeong’s voice cut through the air, striking straight at Gwak Bo’s weak point. Gwak Bo flinched and hurriedly bowed even lower. The white sand of the shore clung to the sweat on his forehead.
"R-report."
"Yes, strategist! We have finished requisitioning all the ships needed for the voyage to Hainan, and as you ordered, we are currently constructing additional vessels. However... the weather has been poor lately, so the shipbuilding has not yet been completed."
As he spoke, Gwak Bo kept his head lowered as much as possible, but his eyes shot upward to check Ho Ga-myeong’s expression once more. Then he quickly dropped them again.
"T-two days! The work will be completed in two days!"
Swish.
At that moment, a faint sound reached his ears. Realizing it was the sound of footsteps crunching through the beach sand, Gwak Bo hunched his back and buried his head even deeper.
Swish.
Ho Ga-myeong’s feet stopped right in front of him.
Sweat soaked Gwak Bo’s back and face.
"Two days, you say?"
Gwak Bo lifted his head, his face drained of all color, and trembled as he looked up. Meeting Ho Ga-myeong’s icy gaze felt like being pierced through.
"You have a talent for making things sound amusing."
"St-strategist..."
"Let me ask again, director. What exactly did I order?"
"The strategist said... he would bring the troops back to the sect in two days, and that all preparations for the expedition to Hainan were to be finished by then."
"Yes. That is what I said."
As Gwak Bo swallowed hard, that cold voice entered his ears again.
"Did you interpret that as meaning the shipbuilding should be finished by the time I arrived?"
"..."
"It seems the sect has grown rather lax while the sect leader was away. To think such a lazy notion—that it’s enough to simply finish one’s own work on time—has settled into the head of the sect’s director."
"P-please kill me, strategist!"
Gwak Bo slammed his head down in repeated bows.
When people heard the name "Myriad Man Sect," they naturally thought of Jang Il-so and his cruelty.
But the one most feared within the sect was not actually Jang Il-so. To ordinary members, Jang Il-so was an existence floating high above the clouds—a figure of awe and aspiration, not someone whose hand they directly felt on their skin.
Moreover, Jang Il-so had little interest in trivial matters. As a result, most things happening inside the sect were never even reported to him. The one who managed the disciples in his stead was Ho Ga-myeong.
In other words, the one who had created the Myriad Man Sect’s unusually meticulous system—uncharacteristically thorough for a demonic faction—was less Jang Il-so than Ho Ga-myeong.
The sect’s enemies feared Jang Il-so, but the sect’s own men feared Ho Ga-myeong. He was the one who handed down punishment, not the enemy, not Jang Il-so, but Ho Ga-myeong.
"Speak."
Ho Ga-myeong’s voice once again drilled into Gwak Bo’s ear.
"What punishment is suitable for a director who failed to carry out a superior’s orders properly?"
Gwak Bo bit his lip hard.
If the man standing before him had been someone else, he might have tried to make excuses. But the Ho Ga-myeong he knew was not the sort of man with whom excuses worked. Every order Ho Ga-myeong gave was issued only after considering the executor’s ability, the situation at hand, and even every possible variable that might arise. Because of that, no reason could ever serve as an excuse.
"A-according to the sect rules... someone who lacks the ability to carry out a small order is to be demoted and..."
"Ability?"
At that instant, Ho Ga-myeong’s voice sank even lower, tightening around Gwak Bo’s heart.
"Why is someone lacking ability sitting in the director’s seat, then?"
"St-strategist..."
"And is that really because of a lack of ability?"
Gwak Bo could not bring himself to say another word.
"The other disciples are out in foreign lands, facing the enemy for the sake of the sect, and yet the one left in the rear is here enjoying himself as if he were a king. You could have finished this days ago if you’d put your mind to it, and yet you still cling to it."
"..."
"Bring it."
"Yes, sir!"
As soon as the order fell, the scholar from the strategist office standing behind him produced a scroll from his robes and offered it forward.
Ho Ga-myeong took it with a disinterested hand and unrolled it. After silently checking the contents, he casually tossed the scroll down in front of Gwak Bo.
"Look at it."
"T-this is..."
Without so much as an explanation, Ho Ga-myeong looked down at him, and Gwak Bo picked up the scroll with trembling hands, reading the contents written there.
In an instant, his face turned deathly pale.
The scroll detailed, day by day, exactly what Gwak Bo had done while Jang Il-so and Ho Ga-myeong were away.
"W-what in the world..."
This was not something that could be verified overnight. Put another way, it meant Ho Ga-myeong had planted surveillance on Gwak Bo in the rear even while personally heading to the Yangtze River in that urgent situation.
"Anything to say?"
"St-strategist..."
"Did you have fun?"
The corner of Ho Ga-myeong’s mouth twisted slightly. To others, it might have looked like a frown, but for Ho Ga-myeong, this was a smile.
"While the disciples were bleeding at the front, the one left in the rear couldn’t even devote himself fully to support work and instead went gallivanting through pleasure houses, making merry as he pleased."
"P-please spare me, strategist!"
Gwak Bo smashed his forehead against the ground. Excuses would not work on this man. If he wanted even a shred of his life preserved, all he could do was admit everything and beg for mercy.
Ho Ga-myeong looked down at him with an expression that held no emotion.
"I don’t particularly dislike men like you. Expecting anything more from a man who was born and raised that way would be asking too much."
"..."
"But I am also the strategist of the Myriad Man Sect. As you know, the sect leader despises the pig who fattens itself with grease more than anything in the world. Especially the kind of pig that feeds on the blood of its comrades to fill its own belly."
"St-strateg..."
"Changgan."
"Yes, sir, strategist!"
"Seal his martial arts, beat him, and sentence him to labor for six months."
"Yes, sir!"
"Confiscate everything he’s accumulated during that time."
"Yes, sir!"
Still flattened against the ground, Gwak Bo cried out as he ground his forehead into the sand.
"Thank you for your mercy, strategist!"
By some standards, it was a harsh punishment. After all, this was the price for failing to finish the work on time.
Even so, Gwak Bo was merely relieved. He knew that compared to what Ho Ga-myeong could have ordered, this was an almost merciful sentence.
But his relief shattered at the next words out of Ho Ga-myeong’s mouth.
"And when he returns after the labor, cut the tendons in those useless legs of his."
"St-strategist!"
Like a bolt from a clear sky, the words made Gwak Bo stare at Ho Ga-myeong in stunned disbelief, eyes wide. Ho Ga-myeong said coldly,
"He has too much energy left over, which is why he goes about doing useless things. If he can’t walk around on his own, he’ll have no choice but to focus on what matters."
"S-strategist! Strategist! I was wrong! Please! Not that—please! Strategist!"
"Carry it out."
"Yes."
The men standing behind Ho Ga-myeong dragged away the screaming Gwak Bo.
His desperate cries echoed across the shore, but Ho Ga-myeong did not even look in that direction.
"Who is the deputy director?"
"I-it’s me, strategist."
"Finish the shipbuilding without incident."
"Yes! I-I will have it done in two days..."
"You still don’t understand my words. I said build them properly. You must have only slapped them together just to meet the deadline. Check everything from the beginning and bring me a proper plan. If there’s a problem with the ships, you’ll end up in a state where even if you want to die, you won’t be allowed to."
"I-I’ll keep that in mind."
Ho Ga-myeong’s gaze flicked toward the laborers. Their hammering movements were stiff with tension.
"We’re returning to the sect."
"Yes, sir!"
As Ho Ga-myeong turned, Changgan quickly followed behind him.
"Strategist. If you mean to set an example, wouldn’t it be simpler just to kill him..."
"Unnecessary."
Ho Ga-myeong cut him off as though there was no need to hear the rest.
"If a man still has use somewhere, there’s no need to kill him. Killing him off only feels satisfying for a moment. What matters is making proper use of even trash like that so it becomes beneficial to the sect."
"...Please pardon my ignorance for failing to grasp your profound insight."
Ho Ga-myeong continued walking without answer.
So this is why the sect leader pays attention to the rear.
Even a director who knew better than anyone what kind of men Jang Il-so and Ho Ga-myeong were would start running wild the moment those two looked away. So what of the people below him?
If Hainan stirred up even the slightest trouble, there would be no shortage of those eager to side with it—or to seize the chance and profit for themselves.
So it has to be dealt with cleanly.
Ho Ga-myeong slowly turned his head and looked toward Hainan Island in the distance.
"Hm?"
"...What is it?"
After staring at the sea in silence for a long moment with narrowed eyes, Ho Ga-myeong gave a small shake of his head.
"No. Probably just a fish. My nerves seem to have sharpened."
"Yes, strategist."
"Pull the laborers back."
"...Pardon?"
"A typhoon will strike soon."
At the unexpected words, Changgan looked out toward the far sea. Sure enough, the waves had grown noticeably higher, and dark clouds were already gathering in the distance.
The weather in the southern seas was fickle to an extreme.
"The schedule may be delayed a little."
"That was an expected variable."
Ho Ga-myeong spoke as though it meant nothing.
"Keep the ships under construction properly guarded. This doesn’t look like an ordinary typhoon."
"Yes, sir! I’ll remember that!"
Rumble...
A faint roll of thunder drifted in from far away. Ho Ga-myeong let out a small snort.
"From Hainan’s point of view, they ought to be hoping that typhoon never ends."
The smile on his lips was chilling beyond measure.