Chapter 24
Chapter 24
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 24
Chapter Title: Royal Family 7-2
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Jang Woo took a step forward, and at the same time, the two men stepped ahead as well.
It was a moment so tense that even a single needle dropping could ignite a bloodbath.
Then Seo Ji-hyeok's low voice flowed out.
"Old man, looking at the mood, one side's gotta die anyway. Starting with talk won't change that, right? Seems like we've both got questions for each other."
"True enough. Good point. Forcing mouths open is a real hassle anyway."
"Jang Woo. Put the knife away."
"Yes, sir."
As soon as Seo Ji-hyeok's words fell, Jang Woo sheathed his knife behind his back.
The two men glanced at the white-haired elder and followed suit, holstering their blades.
"Still, you're guests in my home. Least I can do is offer some food."
The white-haired man slowly walked toward Seo Ji-hyeok.
Then, passing him naturally, he drew back the curtain and entered the kitchen. Moments later, he emerged carrying thick, impeccably prepared slices of raw fish and took his place at the sashimi counter.
"Best one that came in today. Wild red sea bream. Ever tried it?"
"Nah, managed to live without it."
"Red sea bream fattens up from late summer through fall. That's why it's prime from now until early spring. Lives deep, feeding on shrimp and crabs, so the flesh has no fishy smell—just clean, pure flavor. Once you taste this, you might never want another fish again."
The white-haired man spoke leisurely as he began slicing the sashimi.
Slice, slice...
Each time the razor-sharp knife glided forward and back, a perfect piece of flesh separated.
"Fresh off the boat is great, but letting it mature three or four hours isn't bad either. Grill it too—especially the cheek meat, firm and exquisite. Wouldn't do it justice any other way."
Seo Ji-hyeok watched the man's knife work and thought it was beautiful.
The neat hand gripping the fish and the blade's dance felt like gazing at a masterfully painted scroll.
As Seo Ji-hyeok admired the fluid cuts, the white-haired man soon placed six pieces of sashimi on a wooden board, added thinly sliced ginger and radish sprouts beside them, and set it before him.
"Some dip in chili paste, but I recommend soy sauce as standard. This is our house-made sashimi soy—secret family recipe. You into wasabi?"
"Only when it fits."
"Good attitude. Harmony matters. Taste too, of course. Some mix wasabi into soy, but if you're asking me, eat 'em separate. Layer radish sprouts on the sashimi, add a touch of wasabi on top. Roll it up tight, then dip the protruding sprouts lightly in soy. Lets each flavor shine—best way."
Seo Ji-hyeok followed the instructions, popping one prepared piece into his mouth.
He chewed slowly, savoring the taste.
"Damn, that's good. Thought you were hyping it up a bit, but no exaggeration. Gotta admit—this is the best sashimi I've ever had. Jang Woo, grab a piece. You need to try this."
"Yes, sir."
Jang Woo, standing behind Seo Ji-hyeok, bent down, picked up his chopsticks, and ate a piece the exact same way.
"It's excellent."
"Right? Well, now that I've been treated, it's only polite I go first. The 'Sangcheon' I looked into is tied to Japan's Hokkaido, Kamikawa region. 'Sangcheon' reads as Kamikawa in Japanese."
"Spot on."
The white-haired man's head nodded slowly.
"But it's not just the place name. Sangcheon refers to the village folk living there."
"Know what village folk means?"
"Hisabetsu Burakumin—discriminated untouchables. From what I dug up, their status was abysmal even in modern times, let alone the past. Records say they got treated worse than Koreans during the occupation. Even now, big Japanese firms supposedly won't hire them fresh out of school, law or no law."
"Exactly. Looks like you did your homework."
"My turn now. You know who has the Sangcheon brand with the bite mark?"
For a split second, Seo Ji-hyeok caught the white-haired man's eyes flash.
But that was it—no other tell.
"Question for last. No promises on that. You'll hear it before you die. My turn. Who are you?"
"Seo Ji-hyeok. Lost my parents to you lot. That's why I'm here. Skip the last question then—how many are left in Korea?"
"Twenty now. Got the blue-covered book?"
"Yeah, I do. Guessing, but confirming: that's why you targeted my parents?"
"Yes. Now I know who you are. The child of that escaped woman. She was pregnant that day. Perfect. Now we can finally do Sangcheon."
"Sangcheon? You mean emancipation from untouchable status?"
"That's right."
"Who's granting that?"
"Who else but the one?"
Seo Ji-hyeok nodded—no need to hear more.
The Emperor.
Call him that to their faces, and they'd foam at the mouth.
Play dumb and ask? Hundred percent chance the white-haired man would've said "His Imperial Majesty."
Now, just check if this guy had the bite-marked brand—or where the bearer was.
"Guess we've covered everything."
"Yeah. Seems so."
Seo Ji-hyeok flashed a grin at the white-haired man.
The elder smiled back—then thrust the knife in his hand.
- Paang!
Jang Woo spun and lunged from behind at the same instant.
But Seo Ji-hyeok ignored him entirely.
His eyes stayed locked on the blade slicing toward his face.
Just as it neared his cheek, he raised the hand holding his chopsticks.
- Krunch!
"Kuh!"
A short scream burst from the white-haired man.
The chopstick had pierced straight through the wrist holding the knife.
But even as he cried out, he dipped his left hand under the counter, drew another blade, and aimed for the opening under Seo Ji-hyeok's armpit exposed by the thrust.
- Shink!
"Gaaah!"
This scream from the white-haired man was thick and drawn from deep within, lingering long.
Chopsticks come in pairs, after all.
Seo Ji-hyeok had driven the second one deep into the inside of the man's left elbow.
- Clang!
The knife slipped from his left hand.
His arm must've gone numb.
Seo Ji-hyeok scooped up the dropped knife and lightly slashed the white-haired man's right hand, already skewered by the chopstick.
- Slash!
One cut severed the tendons; the knife fell from his right hand too.
But Seo Ji-hyeok didn't stop.
Seeing how the man wielded a blade, he judged leaving any margin for error too risky.
He stretched out, yanked the limp left hand, and sliced its tendons as well.
Only then, gripping the white-haired man's severed-tendon left wrist, did Seo Ji-hyeok glance back.
"Hah... hah... fuck..."
Just three or four seconds had passed.
Yet Jang Woo, hands on knees, heaved ragged breaths—proof that brief time had exploded into frenzy.
His left arm and right thigh sleeves were slashed long, blood trickling from forearm to wrist, dripping tick, tick to the floor.
But the two men who'd inflicted those wounds lay sprawled motionless at Jang Woo's sides.
Telling were the crimson pools spreading from their heads across the floor.
"You okay?"
"Hoo, bro, these bastards were filthy tough."
Seo Ji-hyeok chuckled at Jang Woo shaking his head, then turned back to the white-haired man.
The elder had given up entirely, eyes shut tight, lips clamped.
"Keep your promise. The one with the bite-marked brand. Where?"
"Don't worry. Now that you've done this to me, they'll come find you."
"Not keeping it?"
"Was it worth keeping? Never planned to let you live and talk."
Fair enough...
Seo Ji-hyeok gave a cold laugh.
Then yanked hard on the gripped left hand.
- Thud crash...
The white-haired man tumbled over the counter onto the floor with a splat.
He'd tried planting his feet but Seo Ji-hyeok twisted the arm, toppling his balance.
"Got what I came for. Confirmed you're still lurking in Korea."
And the knife in Seo Ji-hyeok's hand began to move.
"Pah... refreshing."
Jang Woo downed a can of beer in one go and let out a satisfied sigh.
"Let me see those wounds."
"Nah, I'm fine. How many times you gonna check? Seriously."
"Idiot, getting cut like that. Tsk."
"Hey, what? You only took one—I got two."
Seo Ji-hyeok smirked at Jang Woo's genuinely aggrieved face.
"Anyway, bro, that book."
"Yeah."
"Thing's splattered with your mom's blood, half unreadable."
"Yeah."
"But those guys need it. Said they can't go back to Japan without it?"
"Right."
"Why's it so important?"
"It's a ledger."
"Ledger?"
"Yeah. Of Korean politicians systematically groomed by Japan."
"So you know who they are? Search 'pro-Japan politicians' online, tons pop up."
"Not those guys. Makes me curious too—who's worth protecting this much? Enough to kill Taesung Group's sole heir."
- Pshh!
Seo Ji-hyeok pulled a beer can from the black bag, cracked it open, and handed it to Jang Woo.
He cracked his own, took a light swig, then fiddled with the necklace peeled from the white-haired man's neck moments ago.
All three had worn them.
Found while stripping shirts to check tattoos.
Not gold or silver—a wooden pendant engraved with "Sangcheon," strung on red cord.
- Ring!
As Seo Ji-hyeok's finger traced the brand on the wood, Jang Woo's phone buzzed.
"Guys finished cleanup. Told 'em to hit the bastards' place too—scrape every last bit."
"Good. Check your phone first."
"Yeah. But bro, you think your grandpa really didn't know? The mighty Taesung? Who was gunning for his son?"
Seo Ji-hyeok gulped more beer, throat suddenly dry at the question.
"Honestly, figured no need to check. What parent sits by knowing their kid's marked for death? Thought he ignored me 'cause of Mom. But he calls me in now. Can't ignore it anymore."
"Yeah. Curious too. And your mom went to Korea University, right? Wonder why they hated her so much."
"Probably blames her for ruining Dad. Chaebol kid—Taesung's only son—headband on, protesting? She'd have to be the reason or it wouldn't compute."
Jang Woo drained his second can, nodding along.
"Fair. Ugh, whatever. Head hurts now. Anyway, like the guy said—they'll come find me?"
"Don't wait. Keep moving nonstop. No one predicts you. You hunt them."
"Got it. Waiting ain't my style anyway. Knife guys like that? No way they're living clean. Right?"
"Yep. Knowing Dong-cheol means high chance. Check the ledger first. Unsure, send it my way."
"Yeah."
"Gotta head out."
"Already? Why?"
"Work tomorrow. Your bro's a wage slave."
"C'mon... drink more. Who knows next time..."
But Seo Ji-hyeok ruffled Jang Woo's hair and stood.
Jang Woo pouted and rose too, but a pat on the shoulder turned his frown to a grin like nothing happened.
Thus ended a short but intense day.