Chapter 16: Vanished Grades
The wooden hut had burned completely to ashes. The mountain warriors collected the remains, but no one wanted to touch the bones presumed to be Dok Sabu's.
"I'll take care of the one I served, even in the end."
Won Seung hid his tears and gathered the bones, burying them on the hill where the children were laid to rest.
He remembered how Dok Sabu had carved screams into wooden markers and spoken harshly with his grotesque appearance, scaring the kids.
Looking around the hill, Won Seung said,
"If you all have souls, you'll know. Master wasn't as rotten as the instructors. He had a warm heart. So take good care of him."
A few days later, a new head instructor arrived from headquarters.
On the first day, he gathered the children and spoke from the platform.
"I'm Ak Gyo-du. I've handled plenty of brats like you. Looks like training here was a cakewalk. More of you survived than I expected."
When the fox left, a wolf arrived—and this one was even more vicious.
The kids didn't know it, but Ak Gyo-du had been the head instructor at the first assassin training camp. He'd produced a special-grade assassin, but too many kids died, so he never got proper credit and bounced around dead-end posts until Jang Gyo-du's death brought him here on emergency orders.
That winter, five more kids died. Even for winter, it was shocking that five of these battle-hardened children perished—thanks to the harsher training.
By spring, only thirty-eight remained.
Won Seung's rage deepened.
Green tinged the mountains. It was time for the Myeonggeon Dan.
Ak Gyo-du scowled as he reviewed the kids' files.
Jang Gyo-du's office had burned to the ground, taking all the evaluation records with it. Even the files on the kids' backgrounds were gone, so they had to rewrite everything by number. The Soul Oblivion Pill had wiped the kids' memories anyway, so past records were irrelevant.
They pieced together grades from the instructors' recollections, but it was spotty. External masters like the writing master or music master had left after their sessions, so no one knew their assessments.
Hmm... gotta find some dead weight to cull.
Ak Gyo-du scanned the grades for weaklings.
The Myeonggeon Dan needed three doses to fully activate the Swolhyeol San poison. Back at the first camp, after the second dose, he'd had a brilliant idea.
For the third, he picked ten underperformers and fed them fakes. The real Myeonggeon Dan boosted internal energy—a rare treasure in the jianghu.
He sold the ten pilfered pills for a tidy sum and killed off the fakers during training. To him, they were hopeless anyway—no guilt there.
He planned the same here, hunting scapegoats.
"Ugh. How am I supposed to sort the jade from the trash with this crap?"
A frail voice cut through his grumbling.
"Your job isn't sorting jade from trash—it's getting these kids through training alive."
No sooner had the words ended than a slightly small-framed middle-aged man entered the office.
Though compact, his straight back and solid chest radiated toughness. He glared at Ak Gyo-du with sharp eyes.
Ak Gyo-du shot to his feet.
"Bi Jangno, what brings you all the way here?"
He rushed forward, bowing deeply. Headquarters elders were untouchable higher-ups.
Bi Jangno circled the desk and plopped into Ak Gyo-du's chair.
His gaze on Ak Gyo-du was ice-cold.
"Five dead last winter. Eighth-year trainees."
"That was because Jang Gyo-du slacked off too mu—"
Thwack!
Bi Jangno slammed the desk, cutting him off.
Silence fell.
Bi Jangno pulled a letter from his robe and tossed it on the desk.
…Thanks to your consideration, Elder, as I mentioned last time, we expect to produce one Sipjeon Salsu, four special-grades, and at least ten first-grades. I'll send the spring trainees' grades to headquarters—you'll be amazed. When that happens, please remember this humble one's small merits…
Ak Gyo-du read it, then yelled with a sly, furious face.
"Jang Ik-san, that bastard dared beg you like this? Even without Dokgoe, he should've been severely punished…"
Thwack!
Bi Jangno slammed the desk again.
"Who told you to read that?!"
Ak Gyo-du blinked in confusion, reread it, and flinched.
"Sipjeon Salsu? Four special-grades? That blowhard Jang Ik-san's got some nerve…"
Bi Jangno leaped up, strode over, raised his hand—and slapped him hard.
Crack!
Ak Gyo-du reeled from the blow.
"You know what Jang Ik-san was like. Greedy, sure, but no bullshitter. Think he'd lie about something that'd blow up in months? That he'd lack the brains?"
Ak Gyo-du dropped to his knees, head bowed.
"Forgive me! The files burned, so I couldn't assess properly."
The fifth camp was the last shot at special-grades.
Bi Jangno oversaw the assassin program and poured resources into this one. Knowing that, Jang Gyo-du sent private updates.
"Four special-grades! And a Sipjeon Salsu! Know what that means? Huh? I'd trade ten of you for one Sipjeon Salsu—no, forget special-grade. And you killed five? If a Sipjeon candidate was among them, you'd be dead too."
Bi Jangno kicked him in the chest. Ak Gyo-du wheezed, then prostrated properly.
"S-sorry. I just wanted strict training to forge real assassins."
Urgh.
Bi Jangno inwardly groaned at the excuse. Couldn't kill an instructor for being tough.
His eyes on the prone Ak Gyo-du weren't kind. The first camp produced one special-grade but the fewest graduates, turning headquarters' high hopes sour.
Bi Jangno, who'd proposed the program, was embarrassed. He'd tried pinning the flop on Ak Gyo-du, but no specials followed. To him, Ak Gyo-du was a thorn.
When Jang Gyo-du died, Bi Jangno was away on business. Back home, he read the backlog—including Jang's letter. Checking Myeonggeon Dan requests, he learned five kids had died.
Early deaths were no big loss. But now? Eight years of investment. Survivors of brutal training could become solid assassins with polishing.
Even non-first-grades had potential. Enraged at losing five prospects, he'd rushed here.
Calming down, Bi Jangno said,
"Fill in those grades, no matter what. Find the Sipjeon, specials, and first-grades. No slacking—I'll check personally. Screw around, and I'll take your head myself."
"Understood."
Ak Gyo-du ground his teeth into the floor. Bi Jangno turned to leave, then paused.
"Fill the dead kids' grades too!"
"Pardon?"
Ak Gyo-du looked up, puzzled—why bother with corpses? Bi Jangno's murderous glare made his heart sink.
Then it hit him.
The dead ones' grades had to be low. And now...
His shoulders bore the burden: one Sipjeon Salsu, four specials, ten first-grades.
Or else.
You die by my hand, Bi Jangno's eyes said.
After the tirade, Bi Jangno left thirty-eight Myeonggeon Dans.
Dose day approached.
Ak Gyo-du couldn't stop thinking about skimming pills. Bi Jangno's threats nagged, but greed won.
Producing that many gets me credit at headquarters. But that's two years off.
He compromised.
Thirty-eight now. Skim five.
Thirty-three left. One Sipjeon Salsu, four specials, ten first-grades? Huge win.
Old habits die hard. But faking pills was tricky.
Tolerance dulled the third dose to three-four years' energy gain. Taste and smell mattered more.
He'd rushed here without ingredients. Plus, the instructors were Jang Gyo-du's old subordinates—had to watch his back.
Ak Gyo-du eyed Dok Sabu's distant hut.
Plenty of herbs there, probably.
Dok Sabu was ruthless. He'd rigged his place with poison traps before leaving.
After the mutual kill, a warrior entered and died to the traps. No one went near since.
They'd planned to burn it, but headquarters ordered preservation—Dokgoe's legacy might linger; wait for a poison expert.
Ak Gyo-du pondered, then thought of No. 50. He'd served Dok Sabu—maybe he could navigate the traps?
He summoned Won Seung.
"Heard you served Dok Sabu."
"Yes. I brought meals and prepared his bed."
"It's been months since he died. Who knows what he rigged? Go check his place."
"Pardon?"
Won Seung knew about the traps. He could enter, but couldn't admit it.
"Poison traps kill intruders. How?"
"You served him years—must've picked up something."
Ak Gyo-du eyed him closely. Ten years with a hundred kids taught him how sly they got.
Under the sharp gaze, Won Seung widened his eyes innocently.
"I learned a few poisons, but nothing about traps. There weren't any while I was there."