Who Said You're My Servant?
Won Seung let out a sigh and set down his chopsticks.
"Traveling companion? Who're you talking about? I don't have anyone with me."
"You little punk, lying without even changing your expression."
Won Seung slammed the table and shot to his feet, bellowing.
"These damn pests won't leave me alone—can't even eat a bowl of noodles in peace. Who the hell are you, talking down to me right from the start?"
Won Seung had regressed ten years, back to his days as the young master of the Won Mansion.
Standing tall with natural arrogance, his demeanor made Cheongsu Gate's guard captain, Jeong Ho-chang, flinch.
Jeong Ho-chang sized up Won Seung. Only now did he notice the young man's attire wasn't ordinary. The clothes alone probably cost more than his monthly salary.
Still, he was just some white-faced scholar.
Jeong Ho-chang growled with a fierce scowl.
"I'm Jeong Ho-chang of Cheongsu Gate. State your identity."
Won Seung clicked his tongue.
"You idiot. It doesn't matter who I am right now. Don't you realize you've fallen for the guy you're chasing?"
"Uh…."
"That bastard came up to me out of nowhere, chatted a bit, scarfed down his noodles, and left. Ate like lightning. Didn't even introduce himself. And now you're here harassing me about a companion. You're dancing to his tune, exactly like he planned."
Jeong Ho-chang hesitated. Won Seung pointed toward where the man had gone.
"He headed that way. While you're wasting time here, he's probably another ten ri down the road by now. You moron!"
Jeong Ho-chang's face twisted further.
Calling him a moron made his blood boil. But the young man's refined speech, demeanor, and airtight logic made it impossible to act rashly.
He was just a lowly warrior of Cheongsu Gate—no confidence he could handle the fallout if he messed with the wrong person.
But backing down now would bruise his pride.
Jeong Ho-chang glared and barked.
"I can't trust your word. Come with me to Cheongsu Gate. We'll sort it out there!"
Won Seung stepped forward without hesitation at the unexpected turn.
"Fine! I'm innocent, so I've got nothing to hide. Lead the way!"
Outwardly fuming, Won Seung inwardly grinned.
'Guess I owe that guy thanks for this.'
He'd opened the door to Cheongsu Gate for him.
Cheongsu Gate's guesthouse was a two-story building.
"You can't take a single step outside until the investigation's done!"
Jeong Ho-chang snarled and stormed off.
Assigned to a room at the end of the second floor, Won Seung surveyed the tidy interior with satisfaction.
A simple tea set sat on the table.
"Tea set's here, but no tea."
Won Seung went to the window and gazed out at the scenery.
The guesthouse for visitors to Cheongsu Gate was close to the outer walls.
Cheongsu Gate's main entrance lay ahead, and to the right, the plaza in front of it stretched into view. In the corner of the plaza, at the noodle shop—precisely where Won Seung had eaten—Jong Bi was loitering.
'She can't follow me all the way into Cheongsu Gate.'
Won Seung pondered for a moment, then headed downstairs and out of the guesthouse.
"Halt."
A warrior guarding the entrance blocked him. Strictly speaking, Won Seung was under house arrest.
"Why the obstruction?"
"Didn't Captain Jeong tell you? No leaving the guesthouse till the investigation ends."
Won Seung frowned.
"Then fetch my servant."
"Servant? You have one?"
"Of course! A man of my stature without a servant? I sent him on an errand briefly, and now he's probably panicking since I'm gone. Go bring him."
Won Seung described Jong Bi's appearance and said she'd be waiting at the noodle shop.
The warrior went out and found a dazed figure staring this way from in front of the noodle shop—just as described. He approached and asked.
"You the… young scholar's servant?"
"What?"
Jong Bi scowled, and the warrior tilted his head before adding.
"No. 50! Ring a bell?"
He relayed Won Seung's exact words, and Jong Bi's face soured. The warrior smirked.
Fiftieth servant? Definitely a dimwit.
"Follow me. Your master's calling."
Jong Bi was flabbergasted but decided to see Won Seung since things had come to this.
Moments later, entering Won Seung's room on the second floor, Jong Bi glared daggers.
"What the hell? Calling me your servant?!"
Won Seung, lounging at the table, leaned back casually.
"You're the one tailing me—what else would you be but a servant?"
"You bastard—daring to toy with me?"
Jong Bi hailed from the third assassin training camp. A full-fledged assassin off probation, working the front lines. To her, Won Seung was a junior trainee lording over her like a master—unforgivable.
"I'll give you props for spotting the tail. But messing with a senior? Time for a beating."
As Jong Bi rolled up her sleeves and advanced, Won Seung drawled indifferently.
"Hmm. Didn't you hear? Do you know who I am?"
"Like I'd forget a punk like you?"
"I'm Ten Perfect Assassin No. 50, disciple of Dokgoe. The moment you stepped in this room, you were poisoned."
Jong Bi's face hardened.
"Bullshit. When the hell did you administer it?"
Won Seung stood, and Jong Bi instinctively stepped back.
"No need to panic. The poison's right there."
Won Seung pointed to the door handle. Jong Bi glanced over. The door handle? She'd kicked the door open in anger—hadn't touched it.
"I didn't even grab the handle."
Jong Bi turned smugly to face him—then a chill scent flooded her nostrils.
"That's why I'm poisoning you again right now."
Won Seung was suddenly in front of her, grinning wickedly.
"Eyes off the enemy for a second? Pathetic."
Jong Bi wasn't stupid. That's why Bi Jangno had specially assigned her to Won Seung. But without real hostility, she'd underestimated him too.
"W-We’re fellow disciples! I'm your senior! And I'm responsible for your safety—not your enemy!"
Jong Bi stammered, face paling, staggering as her head spun.
Won Seung tilted his head at her words.
"You're my escort?"
"Yes! Monitoring and protecting trainees is my mission. Give me the antidote—now."
Jong Bi lunged for his collar, but Won Seung sidestepped smoothly.
"Pretty quick hands."
He retreated to the table, sat, and gestured opposite.
"You've got some time before it kills you. Sit—we'll talk."
Jong Bi's legs buckled. Her chest burned like fire. She sat as ordered.
"It's… true. I'm not your enemy. I'm here to evaluate your assassin missions."
She was desperate. Failed first-class graduation, endured hardships, finally on the cusp of promotion after scraping by.
Ten years brutal training, three more surviving deadly missions—no riches, dying here? Unjust to the end.
"Really? My bad, then?"
Won Seung feigned nonchalance, tilting his head.
"Wasted good poison on you, so you'll run errands for a while. Eat this first. Good for a month."
He pulled a yellowish pill from his bosom and flicked it over.
"W-What? Errands? You want me to run them?"
"Evaluating me, right? Closer observation's more accurate."
"H-Hey, this breaks protocol."
"Shut it! Keep yapping, and no antidote ever."
Won Seung threatened.
"Ugh…."
Jong Bi swallowed the pill with a groan.
"Now, let's chat. Who are you?"
"……."
"Calling yourself senior means assassin training camp alum. Your age says third camp."
Won Seung paused, scowling.
"Attaching a mere trainee to a great Ten Perfect Assassin like me? Jeokhyeolsan's lost it."
"What? I'm no trainee! I'm up for first-class assassin this year."
"Getting poisoned this easily and calling yourself first-class? Is that Jeokhyeolsan's standard?"
"Ugh…."
Jong Bi was speechless.
'Still a trainee, claiming Ten Perfect Assassin? Shameless brat. Get it together, Jong Bi! He's just a trainee!'
She steeled herself, racking her brain.
'Poison? Could be a bluff.'
Chronic poisons for control were rare. Even Dokgoe's disciple… She tried convincing herself, but Won Seung's relaxed face eroded her confidence.
"Name?"
"Jong Bi."
"Third assassin training camp, right?"
Jong Bi nodded. Won Seung tsked.
"Then you're on borrowed time. Four years since graduation? Swolhyeol San antidote deadline's closing."
Jong Bi flinched. Won Seung's words carried weight.
"Swolhyeol San… the antidote window isn't ten years?"
Won Seung grinned.
"Didn't know?"
He tsked pityingly.
"Poor thing—you know nothing. Swolhyeol San must be antidoted within five years for full removal. Past that, even the pill won't save you. By ten years, it's useless."
Jong Bi eyed him suspiciously at the news. Won Seung tsked disdainfully.
"Think Jeokhyeolsan would let nurtured assassins walk free? Loyal ones aside, the rest are expendable. Even filling ten years, they won't spare one who knows secrets."
Jong Bi paled.
"How do you know this?"
"Getting dumber by the minute. Forgot I'm Dokgoe's disciple? Of course I know Swolhyeol San inside out."
"……."
Jong Bi stared blankly, then realization struck.
"Wait… have you antidoted Swolhyeol San?"
"Obviously!"
Won Seung nodded arrogantly.
"Think that trash poison could touch me?"
"So you have the antidote?"
"No need to ask."
Jong Bi's eyes widened.
Won Seung smiled, peering into her soul.
"Obey nicely, and I might give you some."
Jong Bi thought: Given the poison she'd just taken, he could probably make the Swolhyeol San antidote too.
'Isn't this an opportunity?'
After a moment, she said.
"Fine. I'll help with your tasks for now."
"Help? No need."
"Didn't you want assassin mission support?"
Won Seung wagged his index finger.
"What help from a second-class assassin? Don't meddle—you'll get me in trouble. Just errands. First… go fetch some tea. None here."
'This arrogant little shit….'
Jong Bi seethed but swallowed it.
"F-Fine."
And so, Jong Bi became Won Seung's servant overnight.