What Are You Impersonating? (2)
“Tsk.”
Chung Myung frowned as he looked at the building in front of him.
It wasn’t large, and it wasn’t exactly grand. No, to be precise, several roof tiles were missing here and there, and holes had been punched through the walls in more than one place. Calling it a haunted house would have been a stretch, but calling it a derelict shack would have been perfectly fair.
To ordinary people, it might have looked like nothing more than a ruin. But to a bunch of beggars, it was no different from a palace.
“Honestly, these kids these days are too full in the belly for their own good!”
Since when did beggars sleep anywhere with a roof over their heads?
Back when he’d been active in the martial world, any beggar lucky enough to have even a ragged mat to call his own had been the envy of every other beggar around!
That was why they had no backbone, huh?
“Tsk.”
Chung Myung clicked his tongue with an annoyed expression and started walking. Then he muttered to himself.
Fine. If it had been anyone else, he’d have lectured them, but Chung Myung was broad-minded. He wasn’t like those old fogies, was he? Not at all like those old fogies!
“Is there a beggar ajusshi here?”
He pushed aside the cloth hung over the entrance in place of a broken door and stuck his head inside the building.
“Huh?”
But then Chung Myung’s eyes flew wide open.
What in the world was this scene?
When people imagined a beggars’ den, there was usually a standard picture in mind: beggars sprawled everywhere under torn straw mats, and begging bowls sitting empty all around. Since beggars were the busiest people in the world and yet had nothing to do, that should have been the natural sight.
But this…
“Did you handle that?”
“Aagh! There’s no way I can deal with this right now! Figure it out yourself!”
“No, if I could handle it, I already would have! I’m the one who can’t deal with this right now!”
“Messenger pigeons! What happened to the messenger pigeons? Did somebody eat them or something? Why can’t I see the pigeons?”
“I already sent that one out earlier.”
“What, idiot? Then why would you send it? I said our side was more urgent! Are you going to run all the way to Luoyang yourself?”
“I-I’m sorry.”
What the hell? Why were they so busy?
Beggars were swarming the building, literally crawling all over the place.
There couldn’t possibly be this many beggars in Hwaeum, so they must have dragged in beggars from all over Shaanxi as well. The problem was that every last one of them was running around so frantically, they seemed to have sweat soaking their feet.
A few beggars were at least seated at desks that looked ready to collapse at any moment. But the paperwork piled on those desks practically reached the sky, and the hands gripping brushes moved over the paper with the ferocity of a first-class master drawing a sword.
“The Horizontal and Vertical Prodigy was here? I didn’t see him!”
“I saw him! Just write it down!”
“Which way did the Moon-Sunderer go again?”
“I already told you twice! The man headed into Henan!”
“Are you sure?”
“If I weren’t sure, what am I supposed to do about it? I can’t go check again!”
“Grrrrr.”
Surprisingly enough, not a single person paid Chung Myung any attention.
From the way things were going, they didn’t even have the mental energy to turn their heads.
“...At least pay me some attention...”
Chung Myung looked a little dejected.
After all, he could hardly remember ever being treated this badly anywhere, from then until now.
In the end, Chung Myung raised his voice again.
“Hey!”
“Ah, who is it?”
“Th-that beggar ajusshi! Hong Dae-gwang ajusshi—”
“I’m busy, go ask someone else!”
“...”
Good heavens. He was actually being ignored by a bunch of beggars.
This is the most humiliating thing that’s ever happened to me.
Yeah, there was no getting around it: he and beggars simply did not mix.
Just as Chung Myung was about to lose his temper and start yelling—
“Oh, you’re here?”
“Huh?”
At the suddenly welcoming voice, Chung Myung turned his head. One of the beggars who’d been racing around with sweat pouring down his feet noticed him, set down the bundle of papers he’d been carrying, and ran over quickly.
“Guchil!”
Chung Myung watched the beggar who came running while calling out that name, then a little belatedly replied, “Ah,” in recognition.
“You’re Guchil?”
“You forgot my face already?”
“No, it’s not that…”
Chung Myung scratched his head and said, “You got a lot bigger.”
“Ah, yeah? Hehe. I’ve been eating pretty well here, so I guess I shot up all at once.”
“Yeah. Looks like it.”
At first, he’d seemed like a pitifully small kid, but now he had a fairly sturdy look to him. Of course, that still made him a grown beggar.
“Looks like the old man’s feeding you well.”
“The people in Hwaeum are so generous I never go hungry. And I guess they heard I was close to you, because they’ve been giving me meat too.”
Watching Guchil smile warmly, Chung Myung narrowed his eyes into slits.
“Still just a beggar, though. Stop hanging around here and come to Mount Hua already.”
“I-I’m fine.”
“What do you mean you’re fine? Of course you’re not fine. You’re a beggar.”
Guchil smiled awkwardly, cold sweat beading on his forehead.
“I’m more comfortable like this. Besides, I’m not sure I’d even adapt to some taoist school or anything.”
“Better than being a beggar, though.”
“Hehe. I think beggars suit me better.”
Chung Myung still looked unconvinced, his eyes narrowed. But Guchil’s mind was made up. He had absolutely no desire to follow Chung Myung to Mount Hua.
They say you’ll get yourself killed if you go to Mount Hua.
The Beggars’ Sect was where news spread fastest in the world. That meant its disciples knew more or less how hard each sect trained.
Among all the sects in the world, Mount Hua had the worst reputation for beating people into the ground with its training.
I’d rather die than go there.
Among the beggars of Hwaeum, it was common knowledge that even the harshest beggar life was better than being a taoist of Mount Hua. So why in the world would Guchil be crazy enough to climb Mount Hua?
“Pine caterpillars should eat pine needles.”
“Ugh.”
Chung Myung eyed Guchil with deep dissatisfaction for a moment, then nodded.
“Fine. But if anything happens, you’d better tell me. Seriously, you’d better.”
“Of course! We’re friends, aren’t we? Though I’m not even sure I still have the nerve to call myself your friend…”
“You little rascal, how cute.”
Seeing Guchil hesitate a little, Chung Myung smirked.
And then, at that moment—
“Hey! We’re busy as hell over here, so why are you lot standing around loafing? Hurry up and help!”
A sharp voice cut in. Guchil, startled, even began to stammer.
“A-ah. That’s not—”
“You little bastard, Guchil, you’ve been slacking off lately! Want to get a beating like the old days?”
“No, it’s not like that—”
“Then why the hell aren’t you coming over here right this second?”
Seeing the beggar glaring and shouting with a surly face, Chung Myung’s eyes flared hot.
“And who the hell are you?”
“You’re who— Gyaaaaaaah!”
Startled nearly out of his skin, the beggar dropped the bamboo slips he was holding with a clatter.
“C-Chosaem... n-no, the Mount Hua Divine Dragon!”
Jongpal’s face turned white in an instant, as though he’d seen a ghost.
Well, to him, Chung Myung was scarier than any ghost anyway.
“What? Get beaten? You little bastard, did you not get hit enough last time?”
“Aigooooooo!”
Jongpal flattened himself to the floor like he was trying to burrow into it.
“P-please spare me! I didn’t mean it that way!”
“I let you live because I felt sorry for you after hanging you upside down and peeling your skin off was too much effort. What do you mean, beaten like the old days? You damn punk!”
Whack!
The shoe Chung Myung had kicked off struck Jongpal squarely on the back of the head.
“Aaaaaagh!”
Jongpal screamed, clutching the back of his head, then rolled twice on the floor in agony before scrambling up and prostrating himself flat again.
“I’ll correct myself!”
“You bastard!”
The beggars who had been scrambling about busily now turned toward the sudden commotion. After a moment of silence, every one of them gaped.
“M-Mount Hua Divine Dragon!”
“Hiiiiiik! Why is that man here...!”
“Wangcho! Find Wangcho, quick!”
The pale-faced beggars backed away in a rush, pressing themselves against the walls like they’d met a tiger.
“...What’s with them now?”
“Hah... hahaha... ha...”
To Chung Myung’s question, all that came out of Chosaem’s mouth was an awkward laugh.
Friend.
If you ask like that, how am I supposed to answer?
The beggars of Hwaeum hear so much about you that they know your temper too well. I can’t very well tell you they fear you more than tigers, can I?
“No, I—”
“We were wrong!”
“We’re sorry we didn’t recognize you right away!”
“Please spare us!”
Voices begging not for food but for their lives burst out from every direction, and Chung Myung’s face trembled.
“Hey, nobody’s even angry! Why is everyone—”
“Hiiiiiik!”
“Run first!”
“W-we have the Beggars’ Sect behind us!”
Chung Myung quietly watched the panicking beggars for a while, then suddenly smiled.
“Guchil.”
“Y-yeah?”
“...Go outside for a minute.”
“...”
“Get out if you don’t want to die.”
“...Th-thanks.”
After Guchil slipped out, the building echoed for a long while with the sound of a pig being slaughtered.
“Tsk.”
A little later, Chung Myung clicked his tongue as he looked at the beggars sitting meekly together. They were all on their knees, but compared to what he’d just done to them, they were actually holding up pretty well.
“The taoist comes all the way here, and you all look at him like you’ve seen a ghost. How am I supposed to not get pissed, huh?”
“O-of course. Of course. We were in the wrong!”
“Right? You’d be pissed too, wouldn’t you?”
“Absolutely! Absolutely! Isn’t that obvious?”
“Yeah, I’m angry—”
“Absolutely! Absolutely!”
“Damn it all!”
As Chung Myung kicked off his shoe again, the beggars scattered in a flurry before quickly huddling back together.
“Tsk.”
When one of the beggars carefully brought his shoe back, Chung Myung took it, slipped it on, and took a deep breath. He was trying to calm himself down.
Really, what was the point of getting angry at beggars? Nothing would change anyway.
Chung Myung sighed and asked, “But why are you all this busy?”
At that, the beggars quickly glanced at Guchil.
As much as possible, they didn’t want to exchange words with that monster, so they were making the one person here they had some familiarity with—well, the one person least likely to hit them for speaking—answer instead.
“With the Heavenly Alliance opening ceremony this time, a ton of people came through here.”
“Right.”
“We have to compile the full list for all of them.”
“Huh? Why?”
Guchil scratched the back of his head.
“Well... in the martial world, where famous people go and how they move around becomes information, doesn’t it?”
“That counts as information?”
“Of course. Do you know how many people would pay for that kind of thing?”
“...They’ll sell anything, huh.”
It wasn’t entirely incomprehensible.
As Guchil said, the fact itself was information, and on top of that, movements of major powers were useful for gauging the balance of the martial world.
For the Beggars’ Sect, which dealt in information, not a single one of those movements could be missed.
“So we’ve been busy gathering information on everyone moving through this area and sending it back to headquarters.”
“...We started the whole mess, and you’re the ones making money off it?”
“Hehe. We all help each other ou—”
“Then you should charge a handling fee.”
“...”
“Anyway, that’s not what I’m here to talk about. So where’s the beggar ajusshi?”
“Branch Leader-nim is out handling some work at the moment...”
That was when—
Swish, rustle, rustle!
The cloth at the entrance was yanked aside, and Hong Dae-gwang strode in with a deeply furrowed face.
“What the hell is wrong with you beggar bastards? You’re not doing the work I told you to do and just lazing around? You all want to die so badly you’ve lost your minds— huh? Mount Hua Divine Dragon? When did you get here?”
The roaring shout that had been surging like a volcano died down in an instant. If anything, it even turned friendly.
That slimy bastard...
Let’s see you talk to us with even half that tone! Half!
The beggars knew very well just how persistent and horrifying Hong Dae-gwang was. So when they saw him suddenly grinning like a fool and addressing Chung Myung so pleasantly, it was impossible not to feel their stomachs twist in outrage.
“I came to ask you something... no, forget that for now. Ajusshi!”
“Yeah?”
“I told you to keep that bastard under control, but he’s strutting around with his nose in the air! How exactly are you managing these kids?”
“That bastard? Who—”
At the place Chung Myung pointed, sparks flared in Hong Dae-gwang’s eyes.
“What the hell, you bastard! I beat you that badly and you still haven’t learned your lesson? Do you actually enjoy getting hit, you punk?”
The begging bowl Hong Dae-gwang had been holding flew straight into Jongpal’s head and shattered to pieces. A loud crack rang out.
Thunk.
After stomping on the collapsed Jongpal a few times, Hong Dae-gwang barked, “Lock this bastard up and don’t give him food for three days!”
“B-but we’re short on hands.”
“Then wake him up and make him work, and still don’t feed him for three days!”
“...Yes, sir.”
“Tsk.”
Hong Dae-gwang quickly relaxed his face and turned back to Chung Myung.
“Ah. Sorry, Mount Hua Divine Dragon. I had him under control pretty well, but while I was out, it seems the brat went haywire. I’ll keep managing him properly from now on, too.”
“Do it properly. If not, I’ll just come stay here myself.”
“...Should I just beat you to death right now?”
“Then you’d have it easy, wouldn’t you? No chance.”
“...”
Hong Dae-gwang was reminded, once again, that devils were not confined to hell alone. He quickly cleared his throat and spoke. He needed to answer something, anything, and get this demon out of the building as soon as possible.
“So what brings you here?”
“Let’s talk inside. But I’m a bit thirsty.”
“You lot, what are you doing? Go! Get liquor! Duck, too! And Dongpo pork, and fish soup!”
“Kung Pao chicken too.”
“Right, kung pao chicken too! Hurry up!”
Chung Myung chuckled and sauntered inside.
“Oh?”
But at the same time, someone tugged hard at his sleeve, and Chung Myung looked down to see Guchil staring up at him.
When Chung Myung simply looked at him blankly, he jerked his chin.
“What are you waiting for? Come in. You’ve got to eat too.”
“N-no, I’m fine. Everyone else is working.”
“Oh, really?”
Chung Myung swept his gaze over the beggars and said, “Then I’ll eat right here. It’s been a while since I got to see some familiar faces anyway.”
“Absolutely not! Nothing will happen with one person missing!”
“Guchil, please! Please go in and eat comfortably! I’m begging you!”
“...”
Chung Myung grinned.
“You heard them.”
“...”
“Let’s go.”
“Y-yeah...”
It’s said that life becomes easier if you have good friends, but…
Was this really what it meant to have good friends?
Guchil thought there was something a little off about that as he hesitantly followed after Chung Myung.