Chapter 207
Chapter 207
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 207
>Chapter Title: One Day Without Practice, One Day Without Food (4)
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The next morning.
Il-mok woke up and, just like the day before, left the main hall at a leisurely pace for training.
Ever since settling down in Nanju, aside from handling important matters, he had been delegating tasks to Dam Bin or Jin Ha-yeon and devoting most of his time to training or rest.
On his way to the training grounds.
Il-mok spotted a man in the branch headquarters who looked thoroughly broken somewhere.
It was Baek Cheon.
Of course, the guy was always a bit broken, but this time it was different from usual.
Unlike his usual clear gaze, his eyes looked hunted and hollow, bloodshot red, and his hair was a tangled mess from how much he'd been clawing at it.
‘Avoid him.’
Knowing it was best to steer clear of madmen, Il-mok quickly averted his gaze.
“Young Master!!!”
Baek Cheon, out of his mind, shouted as if he'd spotted a savior and rushed toward Il-mok.
“Haa. What's the problem now?”
“It's a grave matter, Young Master. I'm terrified that due to this Baek's shortcomings, I might fail the monumental task you entrusted to me.”
“I have no idea what you're…. Just explain slowly.”
“Yesterday, while practicing with the courtesans, various inspirations struck me. So, upon returning to the branch, from dinner onward, I seized those countless inspirations and succeeded in devising several new hymns.”
“…Well done.”
Il-mok replied in a half-hearted tone.
It was still praise.
In truth, Il-mok had only taught Baek Cheon four hymns.
Even back in his Seo Ji-hoon days, when he'd had some church involvement, he wasn't a genius and couldn't remember every hymn he'd heard.
He'd only managed to recall four that were catchy or frequently sung—and even then, only the first verses.
They'd been cycling through just those four hymns every time. So, new ones were good news all around.
He'd only praised tepidly because of Baek Cheon's disheveled state.
“So, what's the actual problem?”
“The brilliant melodies I've created are trying to flee my head.”
Il-mok wondered what nonsense this was, but Baek Cheon, already gripped by madness, spewed words incessantly like he was possessed.
“To keep those melodies from escaping, I've been humming the same ones nonstop all night, but I can't hold on forever like this! So please, let me meet those courtesans again! Hurry and have them memorize the melodies!”
It was hard to follow his frantic outburst, but Il-mok grasped the situation.
‘Because I didn't let him see the courtesans today.’
The courtesans had only matched with Baek Cheon for volunteer work. They still belonged to the pleasure house.
They had to entertain guests from evening till dawn, so he couldn't summon them every single day for practice.
Naturally, the solution wasn't to call them over to learn hymns from Baek Cheon.
“Those women are busy too. Why not just notate the melodies you came up with last night? That way, it'll be easier to teach them later, right?”
“How should I notate them? Like this? Aaah~ Aaaak! Aaaaak~~ Aak!! You think I can recall the melody from scribbles on paper later?”
At Baek Cheon's point, Il-mok scratched his head once and instructed Dam Bin and Ju Seo-yeon, who were walking beside him.
“Could you prepare some paper and brush?”
Once Dam Bin and Ju Seo-yeon fetched paper and brush and ground the ink, Il-mok drew five lines on the paper.
“In the end, melodies are about pitch height and rhythm, right?”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“Then how about expressing it like this? Use these five lines for pitch height, and drawings like this for rhythm.”
Il-mok explained the concept of modern staff notation to Baek Cheon.
Il-mok was no music expert, but having completed compulsory education, he at least knew how to draw basic staff notation.
“Finally, mark the overall tempo on one side: very fast, fast, moderate, slow, very slow. It won't be perfectly precise, but notating it this way will make it easy to recall later, and you can explain the fine details verbally when performing with the courtesans, right?”
Once Il-mok finished explaining.
Thud.
Baek Cheon suddenly dropped to his knees and bowed deeply toward Il-mok.
“Your grace is as vast as the sea, Young Master! In service to the Divine Cult's greatness as per the exalted one's will, until this Baek's dying breath—no, even offering this life—I shall use this method to create splendid hymns, notate them, and spread them far and wide!”
With bloodshot eyes and wild hair, not his usual clear gaze, it was pure madness.
“If I may be so bold! Even now, the inspirations are fading, so this foolish Baek must return at once to notate the melodies!”
“Do that.”
Since the madman was leaving quickly, Il-mok had no reason to stop him.
Right after Baek Cheon dashed off with a frantic patter that begged for an onomatopoeia.
Il-mok glanced at the spot the madman had vacated, yawned once, and headed to the training grounds at a leisurely pace.
“Hm?”
Then, realizing something, Il-mok turned back with a puzzled expression.
Dam Bin and Ju Seo-yeon, who should have been following to attend him, were rooted to the spot for some reason.
“What's wrong?”
At Il-mok's nonchalant tone, Dam Bin stared at him like he'd seen a monster.
Even Ju Seo-yeon, who cared little beyond Jin Ha-yeon, couldn't hide her astonishment this time.
* * *
A few days later.
Baek Cheon visited the under-construction estate again with Jin Ha-yeon, three women, and seven courtesans.
He went to the main hall where construction had stalled and distributed paper to the courtesans.
“These melodies were inspired in this body and notated using the method taught by the Maitreya Incarnate. Moreover, since the Incarnate himself selected them, perform them with utmost devotion.”
Baek Cheon's words were half-true.
After learning how to notate from Il-mok, Baek Cheon had waged war with staff paper for days, barely eating or sleeping.
Thanks to that, he'd created over ten new hymns, which he planned to teach to the courtesans.
But then—
- Sing the composed hymns.
Il-mok suddenly intervened.
After hearing all of Baek Cheon's lyrics and melodies, Il-mok pointed to just one sheet.
- Teach only this one to the courtesans. The rest are hard to sing or don't stick in the ears, so they're unfit as hymns.
Out of the frenzy of compositions scribbled over days, only one was approved.
But Baek Cheon wasn't displeased.
To him, Il-mok was already an object of respect surpassing his father, second only to the Heavenly Demon.
Far from displeased, he wanted to whip himself for still falling short of the Young Master's expectations.
“Um. How are we supposed to play this?”
When one courtesan raised her hand with a question, Baek Cheon taught them how to read the scores based on what Il-mok had shown him.
He also verbally conveyed the finer details not captured in the notation and began teaching the new hymn.
Meanwhile, construction continued in one corner of the estate, and as before, around sunset, the laborers and women shared dinner and chatted.
As the former beggars adapted to their new routine.
In some darkening corner of Nanju as the sun set, under a bridge in a shantytown.
Beggars with a gloomy air gathered.
“Have you heard?”
“About those who joined the Maitreya Illuminating Cult?”
The beggars who had returned here, distrusting the Beggar Clan disciples and suspecting the Maitreya Illuminating Cult of some scheme.
But greater misfortune awaited them.
“That Gong-cheol guy's face is all bright now.”
“As a beggar, maybe he hadn't washed in ages—he's bathing morning, noon, and night.”
“And get this. He bought several sets of clothes.”
“With just five days' work, he bought multiple outfits?”
“Pay must be generous. Plus lodging and meals, so what expenses?”
“Saw him yesterday evening in the market, strolling and chatting with some woman.”
“Damn….”
Only five days had passed, yet the beggars who'd left to follow the Maitreya Illuminating Cult were living blissfully in their new lives.
But it wasn't mere envy making them miserable.
Grumble.
Thunder rumbled from the beggars' stomachs. A middle-aged beggar sighed and spoke.
“We haven't eaten in days, yet our mouths are full of energy.”
At his jab, the chattering beggars averted their eyes.
With fewer beggars, food shares should increase, but most had been starving for days.
Since the rally, fewer people were giving them alms.
More precisely, rumors had spread in Nanju that the beggars deliberately avoided washing to feign pitifulness for handouts.
Nanju's goodwill had already soured due to the Nancheon Society. It seemed to improve after they vanished, but greater misfortune struck the beggars.
“Why not go there ourselves?”
“We refused last time—think they'll take us now?”
“Actually, I ran into Sam-sik by chance and chatted. He said as long as we don't betray later, the door's always open.”
At the whispering beggars, the middle-aged one clicked his tongue lightly and nodded toward somewhere.
The shack where Beggar Clan disciples gathered.
The beggars finally clammed up, but the martial Beggar Clan disciples had already overheard.
However, the disciples didn't scold the beggars.
They just gazed toward the shack with complicated expressions.
There sat their leader, Hong Gae.
Hong Gae, who hadn't shown his face since the rally.
“Tsk.”
Unable to bear the frustration, Sam-gyeol-gae entered the shack.
“Gang Leader.”
At his call, Hong Gae looked at Sam-gyeol-gae with clouded eyes.
Since the rally, Hong Gae had been lost in heart demons.
- Assigning work and wages to beggars versus letting them beg and just shielding from beatings—which truly helps beggars?
The shaman's riddle wouldn't leave his mind.
For someone who'd lived decades with Beggar Clan pride, that riddle shook his life's foundation.
Only because he'd cultivated a proper mind technique did Hong Gae endure. If it'd been a demonic or unorthodox art, he'd have succumbed to demonic deviation long ago.
Sam-gyeol-gae, knowing Hong Gae's state roughly, couldn't just watch, so he spoke.
“The beggars seem eager to go to that estate.”
“…No troubles for those who went?”
Sam-gyeol-gae nodded with a complicated look, and Hong Gae sighed deeply before replying.
“Let those who want to go, go. No point forcing them.”
With that, Hong Gae pulled out a hidden brush and ink from a corner of the shack and began writing on bark.
Once finished with the letter-like missives, he handed the bark to Sam-gyeol-gae.
Tormented by heart demons from the shaman's riddle, Hong Gae had decided: if he couldn't solve it himself, he'd seek answers from a higher authority.
“Take this to headquarters.”