154. Embrace with the Generous Heart of a Comrade
That evening.
Won Seung finished practicing his sword forms in the rear garden and sat on the porch. The stone lantern's soft glow illuminated the courtyard, but something felt empty. He couldn't shake the nagging thought that he'd been too harsh sending off the Bi Sword Sect disciples.
They didn't even look like they had any money...
In truth, he'd been a bit angry when he turned them away. After meeting his father, Won Seung had struggled to contain his sense of emptiness. He'd been shocked and confused to learn that his stepmother, Joo Gunju, wasn't the one who'd sold him off. The injustice of not even knowing his betrayer, combined with his rage over Jong-hyung's death, had been too much to bear.
And the Bi Sword Sect folks had caught the brunt of that anger.
No. It's better this way. We're better off parting now. Both sides have powerful enemies—sticking together would just mean lightning strikes from both directions.
Won Seung tried to console himself with his decision, but it didn't help much.
Above all, it stung that his father had no intention of bringing him into the family business. As a child, Won Seung had studied schemes and plots under his father's study window, assuming he'd naturally become an official someday.
Even now, he'd imagined smashing Jeokhyeolsan to pieces, wandering the jianghu for a few years, then returning to Huangdo for the civil service exams to show off. Late start or not, he was confident he could rise quickly through the ranks.
But his father didn't want him entering officialdom. He hadn't outright opposed it, but he'd made his wishes clear. He hadn't even invited Won Seung back to the Won Mansion. It was obvious he planned to keep burying him as "missing."
"Tch. Look at how well I've been doing. I could do way better than Sochu."
Won Seung had been diligently performing his duties as a Ministry of Justice investigator, etching Shim Hoon's teachings into his heart. Just yesterday, Eun Bang-seo had subtly praised him, saying he did good work for someone planted from above.
Of course, his current achievements came from Ju Neung, the former Bokhwagwan survivor from Sacheon. Still, Won Seung had figured that once he reclaimed his identity, it might count as mitigating circumstances. But his father had called disguising himself as an official a deception of the emperor—get caught, and it'd be the axe. Quit as soon as possible, he'd said.
I've met my father now, so maybe it's time to quit being a Justice Ministry investigator?
Live in the jianghu, or pursue his childhood ambitions in officialdom? His future was uncertain, but his father's advice was worth heeding.
For now, let's meet the kids and think it over.
The next day, Yoo Sun brought in a stack of new petitions. As Won Seung skimmed the documents, he paused and picked one up with an "Eh?"
It was a petition from the Samya County magistrate.
"...The proceeds from the sale of the Bang family abandoned house have already been remitted to the national treasury... but now a descendant has appeared demanding the funds' return... We request the Ministry of Justice review relevant laws and issue guidelines..."
This is about my house?
Reading closely, a girl named Bang Ye was claiming to be a descendant of the deceased Bang family owner and staging a sit-in to demand the sale proceeds back.
Won Seung didn't need to ask who Bang Ye was.
She still hasn't left Huangdo?
He set the document down, thought for a moment, and said,
"I'll handle this case myself."
Won Seung pulled out the file, pocketed it, and left the outer office. Exiting the ministry, he headed to Samya County, arriving around lunchtime. He stopped at an open-air tavern midway—the one he sometimes hit on his evening commute. The owners had changed. It used to be an elderly couple; now a middle-aged man manned the kitchen.
The man was hunched over, his face sallow, looking sickly somehow.
"One bowl of beef noodle soup, please."
Won Seung played the part of an official in his official robes. The man brought the noodles and tea. Won Seung had a light lunch and continued to Samya County, but oddly, his heart started pounding, his face flushing hot.
He knew exactly what this symptom meant—better than anyone.
Poison? Ha... this bastard poisoned me?
So that's why it felt off.
The noodles and tea hadn't tasted strange...
Dang Clan guys.
Not many in the jianghu used poison properly. The only surviving poison sects were the Dang Clan and Poison Ear Gate. Orthodox factions hated poison users and wiped them out on flimsy pretexts.
Won Seung pegged it as Dang Clan because even he hadn't noticed the poison. They obsessed over colorless, odorless, tasteless toxins. Not quite as perfect as Formless Finger Poison, but they emphasized natural delivery in poisoning.
Well, maybe his palate had dulled from ingesting so much poison over the years.
Still, getting poisoned as Cheondaemun's former leader was embarrassing.
They must've heard about Ju Neung.
He'd planned to lay low after assuming Ju Neung's identity, but tangling with Bi Sword Sect blew that. With a Sacheon Escort Agency branch in Huangdo, word was bound to spread. He'd heard the Dang Clan pursued targets relentlessly till death—and it seemed true.
Won Seung dismounted, slipped into a roadside grove, and circulated his qi to regulate his breathing. Knowing the poison's effects let him roughly identify it.
Heart burning, blood and qi surging.
It mimicked sudden death in middle-aged men with beer guts—heart attack in three days, death in ten to fifteen. They'd rule it unknown cause sudden death...
Won Seung pulled out his universal antidote but paused before swallowing. He thought a moment, then pocketed it again.
Then he left the grove and headed to Samya County as planned.
The magistrate greeted him. Won Seung was now just one rank below him, and as a Justice Ministry investigator with search and seizure powers, not someone to trifle with.
Noticing Won Seung's flushed face, the magistrate asked,
"What's with your face?"
"Too much work's worn me out."
"Even a martial artist like you gets tired?"
"Martial artists are human too. So much paperwork, by the time I get home, no time for training—just crash into bed."
"True, you were diligent even back in our county office."
Won Seung held up the document.
"Is this girl Bang Ye really the daughter of the deceased Bang fellow?"
"Confirmed by the real estate broker and neighbors' testimonies."
The magistrate looked troubled.
The fuss over Hong Il-wan's incident as the vice minister of war's second son had blown over, but he had no idea Bang Ye was Yun Ye—he'd never even seen her.
"Then the state should return the money. It says here: notify the deceased's identity, and if heirs appear within a year, refund them."
Won Seung cited the clause he'd dug out from the civil code.
The magistrate groaned at it.
"One year statute? But no precedent... How do we claw back treasury funds?"
"Laws exist to be followed—no ignoring for lack of precedent. Follow procedure."
"Will the Household Registry Bureau comply?"
"They follow the law too. Send the writ tomorrow morning. I'll process it right away."
Won Seung left the county office and returned to the ministry outer hall.
Yoo Sun was packing up near quitting time and tilted his head at Won Seung's return.
"Don't you live in Samya County? Why not head home?"
"What kind of official doesn't keep hours?"
Won Seung said sternly.
"You look beat, though... Must be aftereffects of that cold. Go rest."
"Slack off once, and it becomes habit. Don't tempt me."
Won Seung stuck it out till quitting time and went home.
The next day, Samya County's writ for refunding the Bang house sale arrived. Won Seung passed it to Yuk Bang-su, the gold seal officer of the Six Ministries.
Quitting time, he ate dinner at home, changed into black night clothes, and slipped out toward Mangwol Tower. It was empty, but spreading his qi revealed kids hidden everywhere. Won Seung hid in a corner too.
Soon, the three-watch bell tolled from the southern county office.
Ding, ding, ding.
Exactly three tolls, and the kids emerged into Mangwol Tower. Won Seung dropped his concealment and climbed up.
No. 7 Jang Chil, No. 13 Ak Goe, No. 14 Il-sal, No. 18 Bi Ryuhyang, No. 27 So Hyang, No. 55 Bing Seol...
Most of that night's key players had gathered. Plus Bing Seol's friend No. 11 Mu A, and No. 15 Gwang Do—who'd taken down Sa Gyo-du with Ak Goe—No. 29 Mu Gwi, and No. 31 Ma Su.
Won Seung made eleven total— a third of Sam-sam-maeng's forces. By skill, over half. Top talent for hunting Jeokhyeolsan headquarters.
The kids who'd reunited after so long exchanged nods. The giant So Hyang scooped up Bing Seol in a hug.
"Ugh, you're killing me. So Hyang, let go!"
Bing Seol wriggled, but So Hyang held tight. She tried grabbing Mu A too, but she barely dodged.
Ak Goe, eyeing So Hyang's hug enviously, poked Il-sal's side and gestured.
Il-sal said,
"Everyone's here, No. 50. Lay out the plan."
Won Seung frowned at them.
These punks still not healed?
After Sa Gyo-du smashed their heads and faces, Ak Goe went mute, Il-sal deaf. Won Seung thought it temporary, but if not healed yet... weird.
Anyway, don't poke old wounds.
"State your cover identities."
Won Seung said, scanning them. No. 31 Ma Su blocked.
"No, that breaks the manual."
Jeokhyeolsan assassin manual: in joint ops, no asking or sharing identities. For if one got caught and tortured.
Won Seung said sternly,
"Listen, we're not assassins. We're comrades fighting alongside against Jeokhyeolsan."
"...?"
The kids stared at his out-of-left-field words.
"What's the difference between assassin and comrade?"
"Different characters."
Bi Ryuhyang said.
This punk acting bird-brained 'cause he looks like a bird?
Ak Goe poked Il-sal's side. Il-sal read his lips and said,
"Comrade means guys like us. The five-man oath-bound brotherhood to kill Sa Gyo-du."
"Hmm..."
Ak Goe, Il-sal, Gwang Do, Mu Gwi, Ma Su... you lot are definitely black dao.
Won Seung said,
"Assassins sell out assassins, but comrades protect each other. That's comrades."
"What if caught and tortured?"
Ma Su raised his hand.
"Just spill. No pointless suffering."
"Huh?"
"Know how advanced torture tech is these days? Don't hold out and embarrass yourself—just talk."
"That's betrayal! You said protect comrades?"
"It's fine. That kind of betrayal. Think like this: he betrayed me to save himself. So embrace him with a comrade's generous heart. And I bolt to save myself. Self-preservation first! That's priority one."
"...?"