Chicken and Trust
I returned to Yeongcheon city center and reported the commission results.
The pay was brutal—calculated per Yellow Turban head. My modern gamer brain might've geeked out over the RPG vibes, but knowing this wasn't a game sent chills down my spine. A world where murder generated value. Unreal.
"Hm. These check out."
The imperial administrator verified the heads, then had soldiers haul them to a pit for mass burial.
I half-expected nitpicks, but it went smoothly enough.
My pockets were now nicely lined.
Combining Cao Cao's reward, the commission payout, and assorted loot meant several days' living expenses covered.
Before heading home, my feet naturally turned toward the market.
"Fresh! Fresh chickens!!"
Skinny hens thrashed about, necks tied with string.
Chickens were precious protein and pricey, but with my current funds, affordable.
"One, please." "Right away."
Should I snag one?
***
That evening, as I approached home, the gate creaked open and Ha Hui came running out.
"Welcome back!"
Relief washed over her face.
"...Hmph."
From inside, the elderly father clicked his tongue but bowed his head in greeting.
"No trouble while I was gone?"
Like, no weirdos breaking in?
"Oh, nothing like that."
Ha Hui smiled and shook her head.
Good. Word must've spread about the sword-wearing guy living here. Hopefully, things stayed peaceful.
"But... that chicken."
Her eyes locked onto the bird in my hand.
"Bought one. Got a pot or something?"
Neither she nor her father could tear their gazes away. Hadn't tasted meat in ages, I guessed—fitting their situation.
"I-I'll cook it!"
Ha Hui snatched it eagerly.
Snap.
She looked so cute, I worried if she'd manage to wring its neck.
Snap.
She did it flawlessly. Girls raised in poverty were tough.
***
Dinner was heartier that night. Thin grain porridge as usual, but with poached chicken on the side.
"...."
Watching them devour it greedily tugged at my heart.
In a crumbling economy, meat was a privilege. Yeongcheon's direct hit from the Yellow Turbans made the future worrisome.
"Um... Yu Daehyeop, please have some too."
Ha Hui, mid-chew, caught my gaze, blushed furiously, and cleared her throat.
"I'm good—look."
I grinned, showing my pile of chicken bones. I'd eaten a few pieces to avoid worry, but paced myself. They savored it so much, I didn't want to compete and reduce their shares.
After the meal.
"Thanks. For the feast."
The old man coughed awkwardly, expressing gratitude. Color had returned to his cheeks—first good meal in a while.
"But you're not doing this for free."
He eyed me sharply.
"Eyeing my daughter?"
The words stung a bit, but in these times, I got it. The world was harsh—no free favors.
"Just bought it craving chicken and figured we'd share. Relax."
"Father!! Yu Daehyeop isn't like that!! So rude!"
Ha Hui snapped immediately.
"...Ah."
The old man glanced at her, then apologized.
"Sorry. Spoke out of turn." "No worries."
Her defense pricked my conscience a tad. He wasn't entirely wrong.
Truth is, I wouldn't mind her at all.
After eating, I figured some light exercise in the yard for digestion.
Drew my sword, replaying the day's fight—swinging, parrying, slashing in loops.
Crude and basic, but swordsmanship thrived on routine. Mechanical reps turned into fluid combat efficiency, saving stamina.
Any rookie could cleave one foe at full power with luck and momentum. But mercenaries like me prepped for melees—rationing energy across multiple kills. Efficiency was key.
And that came from mastering basics. Reflexive execution without waste meant the move was ingrained.
Whoosh. Swish.
Mid-form sequence, I felt eyes on me.
Ha Hui, fresh from dishes, perched on the sagging porch, watching intently.
"Ah, sorry."
Brandishing a blade in the yard would scare anyone.
"No, it's fine. Never seen swordplay up close—fascinating."
She beamed.
"...."
Shing.
Sheathed it and met her gaze. Oh, right—the hairpin gift.
"Uh... found this on the job. Yellow Turbans looted it, probably."
Handed her the wooden one.
"...Oh my."
She gasped, accepting it carefully.
"C-Can I wear it now?"
Shy smile.
"Sure. Go ahead."
She lit up, pinning it in place.
She looked stunning—I stared, entranced.
Success. She turned her head coyly.
"How's it look?"
Cheeks pink.
"Beautiful."
Honest truth. Nothing else fit.
"R-Really?"
Blush deepened.
As we locked eyes in silence, a cough echoed from afar.
"Cough!! Hack!!"
Phlegmy and harsh. Ha Hui startled, rushing to his room.
Her silhouette through the thin curtain was something. That hip sway... Stop it, brain.
***
Next day.
Headed to where I'd met Gong Geo's crew yesterday.
"Hey, Hyun Sword. Over here."
Gong Geo handed over my cut right away. Fair price—no skimping.
"So, solo hunted yesterday—score?"
"Yeah. Cao Cao's due soon. Saw him myself."
Oh, gotta tell Gong Geo.
"Whaaaat?!"
He exploded way more than expected.
"Saw Cao Cao himself? No joke?" "He's here?!"
His crew swarmed me with questions. Man, the sweat stench... Mine probably matched.
Recapped vaguely. Half-doubting, but leaning toward belief.
"Scouting terrain with a small detail personally. No ordinary hero."
Gong Geo gazed skyward, awed.
"Offered drinks, huh? As rumored—scouts talent everywhere. Why pass? Chance to join his ranks."
He couldn't fathom it.
Best time to join Cao Cao—he hungered for talent.
"Why refuse?" "Not a bad deal."
Un Sam, Chun Bong, and Yeom Seok echoed him.
"This life suits me. Plus, guarding my lodgings."
I'd resolved against chasing warlords.
"Huh. Can't wrap my head around it. You've got skills. No ambition for glory with that blade?"
Probing stare.
"Not my thing."
Dream was bank big young, then retire comfy far from chaos.
Worth climbing in this mess? Doubtful. Even Ha Hu Yeon's 18-1-1 record ended in one slip-up death. That's general life. Ronin had options—pick winnable fights.
"...You're no ordinary guy." "Big picture or small? Heh...."
They chattered. Time to work.
"Straggler hunt today?"
Clapped to pivot.
"Yeah. Hope Cao Cao's still around—gotta prove myself."
Gong Geo pumped.
***
Over the next three days, I stuck with Gong Geo's crew, picking off Yellow Turban stragglers.
Decent haul. They were solid hires, and my form felt sharper lately—body moving smooth.
Is this the 'realm' Master mentioned?
Plateaus break suddenly—skills surge.
No big jumps recently, but now? Stronger for sure. Confidence boosted.
Stragglers paid well—finances eased.
Surplus flowed home naturally.
Bought the old man and Ha Hui new robes. They beamed like kids.
Hated endless porridge myself, so market runs for sides enriched meals. Their lives improved. Hadn't planned this much, but their smiles sparked generosity. Bedridden old man perked up. Food's huge for health.
His attitude shifted too.
"Chat with Hyun Sword. I'll stroll."
Added "gong" honorific, even scheming to leave us alone.
Earned his trust—enough for alone time with his girl. Positive spin.
"Um... Does Hyun Gong have family?"
Growing close, Ha Hui probed personally now.
"No. Not married." "Oh, I see."
Surprised I'd no wife—prime age here. Twenty was old bachelor. Early marriage norms warped further in war-torn lands.
"Single, then." "Wanderer life." "Still fine. Tough marriage, but with a loved husband? Worth it." "Reality might differ?"
Starving on roadsides, etc.
"Jeez! So mean!"
She flapped hands, smacking my thigh playfully. Adorable.
***
Amid these fulfilling days, our mercenary band scored a solid lead.
A Yellow Turban band occupying a village outside Yeongcheon County Seat.
Not mere stragglers—dozens clustered, over fifty strong. Fenced with stockades, crude watchtowers—basic defenses.
Risky, but payout juicy. Better gear than ragged stragglers—stripping and selling would pay big.
"Thoughts? Bad vibes—bail?"
Gong Geo eyed the setup warily.
He'd deferred to me lately. I was the best fighter here now.
"Let's do it."
Worth the gamble. Recent gains built confidence.
"I'll draw attention, lure them out. You circle back, infiltrate, hold positions, and shoot arrows."
"R-Right. Good luck."
They committed.
Huangfu Song comes, Pa Jae and locals end. Big score first.