Chapter 143. I Got Hit by the Mad Chicken Piercing Claw Technique
“Where’s Teacher Song?”
“She’s out on an errand.”
Lately, Jong Bi had been heading out often. Her complexion didn’t look great—something was definitely up.
Just then, a man entered through the front gate. It was Gong I-gwan, the physician from the Gong family.
“What brings you here, Physician Gong? Come on in.”
Ogu greeted him warmly. Won Seung had said that if it weren’t for Physician Gong, he wouldn’t have survived.
Never forget a favor. Always repay it.
Gong I-gwan glanced around the shop’s paintings and remarked,
“These are impressive works.”
Then he asked,
“Any word from Young Master Pung about returning?”
“Teacher Pung is like the wind itself—how could I possibly know? He’ll show up when the time’s right.”
“No way to contact him?”
“What’s this about?”
“Hm. If you do find a way, could you pass along that he’s meeting with his fellow disciples?”
“I’ll look into it, but no promises.”
Gong I-gwan admired the paintings while sipping tea, then took one that Ogu offered him and left.
Ogu returned to the study, unrolled a sheet of paper, and picked up a brush.
Pung.
I hope this finds you well... I’m taking good care of Unsaeng. P.S., Physician Gong seems quite worried about meeting his fellow disciples. Looks like he’s short on funds—if you need any, just say the word, and I’ll lend it.
—Wu.
Ever since Won Seung had warned him last time about people watching, he had no choice but to write in this vague, roundabout way.
Ogu headed to the Sangyang Escort Agency to send the letter via the Hwangdo branch when he spotted Jong Bi ahead.
“Teacher Song?”
“Oh? What brings you here, Teacher Wu?”
“Mailing a letter.”
“Me too.”
They were sending to the same place. The two bought a large envelope and slipped their letters in together.
Gu Yeom-jung reported Won Seung’s movements to his superior, Jang Hak-ryang.
“He plays the flute and qin every evening?”
“Yes. They get along like a house on fire. The people of Samya District can’t even sleep at night. But do we keep surveilling?”
“That guy Ju Neung starts at Samya District tomorrow. Reports will come from there, so focus on Gi Seung-gyo.”
Gu Yeom-jung’s face lit up. The men tailing Ju Neung complained endlessly about how he roamed everywhere, stretching their manpower thin. Even with two or three on him, they were requesting reinforcements.
Gi Seung-gyo just holed up at home, making him easy to watch.
“Understood.”
Won Seung arrived at the Samya District office. He told the gatekeeper he was the new Judicial Inspector starting today. The man eyed him up and down, then pointed to one side.
“That’s the Judicial Office. The magistrate and the six officials are in their morning meeting—wait there.”
Won Seung entered the building marked “Judicial Office.” It had a small front hall and meeting room, with offices behind. Spotting a side room that looked like a library, he stepped in. He’d always liked books.
But it wasn’t books—it was stacked with documents. On the desk lay a thin report titled Samya District Mob Intrusion Incident.
Samya District’s security must be rough.
Samya District Mob Intrusion Incident
Won Seung picked it up and flipped the cover. Then he realized it was about the incident at his own house.
What the hell? This is a mess.
He couldn’t help but sigh at the incident summary.
It claimed that on the night in question, mobs appeared, killed four innocent young men of Samya District, and broke into a private home. Upon a tip, Samya District requested emergency support, and the Imperial Guard arrived to suppress them. There were six mobs; the Guard killed two, captured three and hauled them to headquarters, and let one escape.
Not just the sloppy wording, but letting one get away infuriated him.
They had that many guys and still lost one? Pathetic.
He’d been uneasy ever since hearing Sado Gongja was caught, with no further word. He couldn’t go to Yeongtap Temple—not just because of the Imperial Guard’s eyes, but because Sado Gongja’s whereabouts were uncertain. Won Seung could spot Guard tails, but a peak expert like Sado Gongja hiding? Even he might miss it.
Then someone entered the front hall.
A narrow forehead creased with deep wrinkles, lips like a catfish’s—the official walked in.
Won Seung emerged from the library, and the man frowned at him.
“You must be the new inspector starting today. But you look awfully young.”
“Nineteen, sir.”
Actually seventeen.
“I’m O Chong.”
“Ju Neung, sir.”
Won Seung bowed politely to his superior.
“I hear you’ve got some martial skill...”
“From the Baekho Hall in the outer city’s public school.”
O Chong asked a few more questions, then said,
“Hm. Special appointment with no school ties, hometown connections, or family backing. Someone’s pulling strings?”
Won Seung glanced behind him—nothing.
“Never mind.”
O Chong spoke sternly.
“As a Judicial Inspector, remember this. You’re locally hired, not an official appointee from the capital, but you’ll still go on the rolls. Maintain the dignity of an official.”
“Isn’t it Judicial Office Investigator?”
Won Seung pointed to the sign. O Chong replied gravely,
“We’re under Samya District, but we answer to the capital’s Judicial Bureau. Judicial Inspector is proper. Ignore the ignorant fools calling it Judicial Office Investigator. Take pride.”
“Got it. How many in the office, sir? Not including yourself?”
“Me and you...”
O Chong’s gaze shifted outside.
“Here he comes.”
A man in his early twenties entered.
“Don’t be late, I said.”
O Chong scolded, and the man bowed.
“Brother, cut me some slack. You know how long it takes from the outer wall.”
“That’s why I told you to move closer.”
“Dividing the family takes money.”
O Chong clicked his tongue and pointed to Won Seung.
“New guy here. Ju Neung.”
“Nice to meet ya. I’m Mu Gi-an.”
“Ju Neung.”
Mu Gi-an was bubbly, the playful type who loved fun.
“New blood means drinks, right?”
O Chong smiled warmly.
“Finally fully staffed: chief inspector, senior investigator, and junior. My treat tonight.”
Won Seung asked, surprised,
“Just the three of us?”
“Was two before you.”
Mu Gi-an grinned.
“Newbie, fetch some tea first. Let’s chat over a cup.”
An official dropped off a stack of documents.
“What’s all this?”
“Petitions we handle.”
The Judicial Office sorted Samya District complaints for potential crimes and resolved them.
“Big crimes go to the magistrate; petty squabbles, we settle ourselves.”
Won Seung skimmed through them: stolen goods, suspicious neighbors, illicit affairs—just trivial matters..
Mu Gi-an said,
“Samya’s residential, so few murders. Last year’s Bang family massacre and your house mob incident were big. State investigators handle those—we follow capital directives and clear petitions.”
“This is what they call a cushy post.”
Mu Gi-an laughed.
“You’re mistaken. You’ll see how tough soon enough.”
Tough how?
That very afternoon, Won Seung learned the hard way. Breaking up a market brawl between ajummas, he got a fistful of hair yanked out and his cheek clawed by sharp nails.
That evening, at Hwapyong Inn near the office.
“Hm. Those brutes. Scratching up a handsome young inspector’s face like this. I’ll haul them in tomorrow and cane them.”
O Chong tsked at Won Seung’s scratched cheek.
“Chin up. It’s not always like this. Plenty of rewarding work.”
Mu Gi-an fussed, worried the newbie might quit.
“You said Baekho Hall? I’m from Hwangdo’s Yongho Hall.”
He emphasized it. Won Seung, lost in thought, just nodded vaguely. Mu Gi-an frowned slightly, then pressed,
“Yongho Hall’s one of the outer city’s top four public schools. Produced tons of talent.”
“Ah, yeah.”
Won Seung’s indifferent reply made Mu Gi-an repeat,
“Plenty of alumni became officers. I’m senior investigator myself.”
“I see.”
Won Seung sipped his drink half-heartedly. A sigh escaped him.
Who the hell shoved me into this?
Won Seung wasn’t naive. Hired over two taels of silver? No way.
Has to be the Imperial Guard.
Wanderers like Gi Seung-gyo could vanish from surveillance, but a settler like him? They’d pull him into the system. Officials report daily—easier to monitor a desk job.
Not a direct order from Dae Yeon-ui Geom, probably.
The Guard moved on Dae Yeon-ui Geom’s command, but the mob report showed Samya requesting support, not Guard-led. Dae Yeon-ui Geom wasn’t officially in their chain, so the cover.
They take requests from old powers but don’t want the current court knowing.
That’s why they’d roped him in too. The Guard oversees officials—now Won Seung was one.
Won’t learn squat anyway.
He’d accepted knowing that. No ID more solid than official status. Now he could enter the inner city freely.
Father, I’ll see you soon.
Won Seung got home late after drinks.
“What happened to your face?”
“Got hit by Mad Chicken Piercing Claw Technique.”
Won Seung shuddered, recalling the wild-eyed ajummas lunging at him.
Gi Seung-gyo nodded.
“Skilled foes, huh. Dinner’s ready.”
True to his Im household servant roots, Gi Seung-gyo handled chores like a pro—near Jong Bi level.
“Ate out.”
“Then grab the qin.”
Time for a duet. Their harmony had reached a fine level. As martial experts, their keen ears nailed every nuance.
He’d worried about nighttime complaints in a neighborhood, but no—neighbors loved it. An old lady left eggs, saying she slept well for the first time in years; another brought potatoes for curing her insomnia.
Won Seung brought the qin to the hall, where Gi Seung-gyo stood in the yard with another man.
The mid-thirties man was handsome like Gi Seung-gyo but exuded a chill aura.
The man turned to Won Seung. Their eyes met, and Won Seung felt his mind blank, like fur brushed away.
What’s that gaze?
Gi Seung-gyo said to Won Seung,
“Senior Brother’s here.”
“!”
Gi Seung-gyo’s senior from Bi Sword Sect—second disciple Jin Eok-so.