167. Impenetrable (4)
Next to the small hut, beggar children were romping about.
That was when it happened.
A booming voice rang out from the hut.
“Lunch time!”
At the call, the children came swarming toward the hut.
As the kids filed inside, a burly beggar emerged, scratching the back of his head.
Spotting him, Hanbin tilted his head.
“What are you doing here?”
“What's so weird about a beggar coming out of a beggar's house? Paengga kid?”
The man was Gwanggae, Hanbin's sworn brother from their last journey.
Hanbin asked, “What about the Henan branch you were running? How come you're here?”
“Huh? What're you talking about? You called me.”
“What do you mean, I called you? Gwanggae.”
Hanbin cocked his head, and Gwanggae's gaze shifted to Hong Chilgae.
As Hanbin looked puzzled, Gwanggae shot Hong Chilgae an aggrieved glance.
“Elder, didn't you say Paengga called for me?”
“When did I say I called you? I said we needed you.”
“Isn't that the same thing?”
“You told me to call if there was any money to be made, Gwanggae.”
“Well, yeah.”
“Turns out everything my disciple's up to is profitable. So here you are.”
“Ah, the branch is swamped with work...”
Gwanggae sneaked a peek at Hanbin.
Catching the look, Hanbin said, “Master's right. This job pays a little.”
“Ha, knew my sworn brother wouldn't let me down.”
Gwanggae laughed heartily and moved to embrace Hanbin.
In a flash, Hanbin slipped back like an eel and shouted,
“Don't come close! Talk from there—or at least wash up first?”
“You never complain to Elder Hong Chilgae, so why pick on me, friend?”
“Master washes up before meeting me.”
“For real, Elder?”
Gwanggae shook his head at Hong Chilgae in disbelief.
Hong Chilgae averted his eyes and cleared his throat.
“Ahem.”
Gwanggae sighed at the sight.
“Beggars gotta act like beggars! Didn't you say that, Elder?”
“Gwanggae!”
“Yes, Elder.”
“You know what I learned after sixty years begging?”
“What?”
“Even beggars need to keep some dignity now and then.”
“Ah.”
“Enough nonsense. Bring out the food. We'll talk over lunch.”
“You gotta pay for the meal, though.”
Gwanggae snorted and headed behind the hut.
Hanbin called after him,
“I'll cover the meal! Grill some meat!”
“Oh, you're actually paying? Then expect a feast fit for kings, friend.”
With that, Gwanggae bustled about behind the hut, clanging away.
Hanbin smacked his lips at the sounds.
Seolhwa, who'd watched the whole exchange, was a bit dumbfounded.
Could a beggar really whip up a gourmet spread?
She murmured softly,
“Are you really gonna eat food he begged for?”
“Seolhwa, one bite of his lunch and you'll change your mind. Might even run away from home to become a beggar.”
“I doubt that, young master.”
Seolhwa shook her head skeptically.
After some idle chatter, Gwanggae emerged from behind the hut.
“Everyone, come on over!”
At his shout, Hanbin's group headed around back.
A bonfire crackled there, with dressed rabbit meat skewered over it.
Gwanggae handed Hanbin a roasted rabbit.
Hanbin took a bite and gave a thumbs-up.
“The best, as always.”
Following his lead, Hong Chilgae grabbed a skewer.
Seolhwa nibbled hers and her eyes widened.
“It's as good as candy.”
Hanbin and Hong Chilgae were stunned.
That was the highest praise Seolhwa could give.
Gwanggae tilted his head, puzzled.
As the rabbit roasted away, Gwanggae's expression turned serious.
“Friend, what's really going on?”
“We need to prepare for a plague, friend.”
“P-plague...?”
Gwanggae's eyes bulged. Hong Chilgae, who'd been listening, cut in urgently.
“Plague? What do you mean, disciple?”
Everyone stared at Hanbin in shock.
Their reaction was natural.
Beggars were the most vulnerable to plagues.
Even if they weren't in the same Beggar Clan branch, beggars dying en masse was no small matter.
The kids eating here weren't clan members but under Beggar Clan protection.
A plague would sour public sentiment.
Beggars' food sources would dry up.
And if blamed as the cause, they'd be stoned before starvation set in.
Hanbin nodded knowingly and continued,
“So here's the deal...”
His group's jaws slowly dropped as he spoke.
Hanbin's story was straightforward.
Poison would spread through Jangun-hyeon.
The phrasing might sound odd.
But it fit perfectly, per Hanbin.
The poison would taint food supplies in circulation.
Its symptoms mimicked a plague.
Gwanggae frowned after hearing it all.
“Friend, then we just stop it, right?”
“How?”
As Hanbin tilted his head, Gwanggae thumped his chest in frustration.
“If it's mixed into ingredients, block distribution, duh?”
“And how do we do that?”
“It's poison! There must be a way!”
Gwanggae pressed, exasperated.
Hanbin replied calmly,
“Ever heard of Heolhyeolcho? Grows up north.”
“First time.”
Gwanggae scratched his head.
Not even Sacheon Dangga or Baekdokmun knew of it. Even the info-savvy Beggar Clan was excused.
“It's a weed up north. Animals and people eat it fine in the cold. But here? Different story.”
“...”
“Extract the poison, dose over a fortnight, symptoms hit—like the plague I described. Problem: colorless, odorless till then. No silver needle reaction.”
“Hm.”
“Tell folks ahead, they won't believe till they taste it—shit or bean paste.”
“Then how'd you know?”
“...”
Hanbin crossed his arms and eyed Gwanggae.
After a long stare, he asked gravely,
“Think you can believe me?”
“Of course. Who else but me?”
“Not you—your mouth.”
Gwanggae clapped a hand over his mouth. Hanbin watched, then continued,
“On second thought, yeah, I can trust it.”
“What's that mean?”
“You remember our nondisclosure from last time's still valid?”
“Ahem.”
Gwanggae coughed and looked away, recalling.
Hanbin's expression softened.
“This happened at Huangbo Family...”
He recounted the freak at Huangbo Sega.
A secret known only to their patriarch.
He skipped the Black Iron Box and the freak's young master disguise.
After mentioning nearly dying with Hwan Bo-man-cheong, Hanbin gauged their reactions.
They swallowed hard, hanging on his words.
Time for the prepped tale.
“He thought we were goners and spilled.”
“What'd he say?”
Gwanggae gulped eagerly. Hanbin went on,
“Plot in Jangun-hyeon. Target: explicitly Beggar Clan.”
“Those rotten bastards!”
Gwanggae snapped his skewer in rage.
Hong Chilgae ground his teeth, cheek twitching.
“Such outrage! Targeting the weakest, the Beggar Clan? Kill 'em all!”
As they fumed, Hanbin said glumly,
“Exactly. Even I'd do the same to an enemy.”
“What?”
“Think: strategy says blind the foe's eyes and ears for sure victory.”
“True.”
“Isn't Beggar Clan the righteous sects' eyes and ears?”
Hanbin finished and quietly watched Hong Chilgae and Gwanggae.
Fire burned in their eyes.
Rabbit over those flames would crisp right up.
Half of what Hanbin said was sincere.
Even he'd dismantle intel first in war.
“Hm.”
Gwanggae grunted, eyeing Hanbin.
Hanbin nodded subtly.
Halfway to recruiting the spear.
In this op, Beggar Clan was the spear.
Heuksa Gate: his shield.
Truth be told, when Cheolno brought Heuksa Gate, Hanbin wondered if it was fate.
As he watched them, Gwanggae asked cautiously,
“So, any countermeasures, friend?”
“If targeting Beggar Clan, just vanish from here, right?”
“We vanish?”
“Yeah. Send kids elsewhere. Keep able-bodied clan members to ambush the bastards.”
“Oh ho.”
Gwanggae's eyes gleamed. Beside him, Hong Chilgae clapped in agreement.
Mid-discussion, Gwanggae glanced at Hanbin.
“Hate to bring it up, but pay would be nice...”
“Haha, naturally.”
Grinning wide, Hanbin nodded at Seolhwa.
She placed a bundle before Gwanggae.
Swoosh.
Gwanggae's eyes quaked like an earthquake.
“Friend, why the contract? What more can you squeeze from this beggar?”
Hanbin sighed at his frantic waving.
“Sigh, you think this is a contract?”
“What's in the bundle if not?”
As Gwanggae kept waving, Hanbin nodded; Seolhwa untied it.
Gwanggae squeezed his eyes shut.
Curiosity won; he peeked.
Not a contract—ornaments.
“What the hell is this, friend?”
“Your pay.”
“This?”
“I'll explain their value later. Distribute to clan experts staying here.”
Hanbin dusted his clothes and stood, done talking.
* * *
Leaving Gwanggae and Hong Chilgae with their task, Hanbin headed to Jangun-hyeon's bustling streets.
There, he held out a hand to Seolhwa.
She promptly handed him a fan.
Hanbin snapped it open and strutted the streets.
To any onlooker, he was a rich heir out for fun.
His leisurely gait screamed brothel-bound.
Sure enough.
A few courtesan callers tugged his sleeve.
Hanbin grinned broadly, pleased.
He kept fanning open and shut as he prowled.
But his eyes held no leisure.
They scanned relentlessly.
Truth was, the fan's landscape painting hid Jangun-hyeon's map in its strokes.