What Kind of Person is the Gwancheonbang Leader?
“Who said I killed him? Where was Jongbu spying on me from?”
“I-I’m an escort for Young Master Jong Wonbo.”
“Jong Wonbo?”
“I’m a colleague of the previous escort who got covered in the young master’s vomit.”
“Ah! That hornet?”
Won Seung realized where Jongbu had been.
“You’ve got some lingering grudge. When did that even happen, and you’re still trying to get revenge?”
“N-no, it’s not like that. I was just trying to check your identity.”
“My identity? Why mine?”
“Because you’re from Seongwangbu in Huangdo… I was told to verify if it was true.”
“Hmm. I see.”
Won Seung pictured Jong Wonbo’s face.
‘Same clan as Jong Taehaksaseo, huh? Must be real interested in government posts.’
“If Jong Wonbo’s so curious, tell him to come ask me himself.”
“U-understood.”
“Want me to release the paralysis?”
Won Seung raised his needle book, and Jong Wonbo’s escort asked in a panic.
“Is-isn’t there an antidote?”
“Nope. Gotta know what poison it is to use the right antidote.”
“Then how long will the paralysis last?”
“Didn’t use it myself, so how should I know?”
“Won’t it wear off on its own if we just leave it?”
“What if a stray dog comes by and bites you while you’re lying there? He already bitched at me about his escort getting stung by a hornet…”
Won Seung swung the needle book wildly, beating Jong Wonbo’s escort.
Thwack! Thud thud!
Only after a thorough, even thrashing left bruises blooming across his body did the paralysis finally lift.
“Urk!”
As Jong Wonbo’s escort staggered to his feet, Won Seung approached the Cheongsu Gate escorts.
But one of the Cheongsu Gate escorts raised an arm and said,
“I-I’m fine. The paralysis is wearing off. See? I can move my left arm.”
“Huh? Already? Was it One Moment Blood after all?”
The escorts didn’t know what One Moment Blood was exactly, but they caught that it lasted one gak.
Jong Wonbo’s escort, who’d gotten beaten for no reason, shot Won Seung a resentful glare.
“If it’s One Moment Blood, it’ll wear off soon enough. No need to bother beating you.”
Won Seung tossed the needle book aside and told the Cheongsu Gate and Jongbu escorts,
“You guys can go.”
The two stumbled out of the alley in a hurry.
Won Seung approached the Gwancheonbang escort.
“You and I have business. Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“Somewhere we can have a serious talk…”
The Gwancheonbang escort scanned the surroundings with uneasy eyes and said,
“Sangyang is Gwancheonbang territory. If you harm me recklessly…”
“Who said anything about harming? I just wanna talk.”
“We can talk plenty right here…”
“Hmm. You’re not getting it.”
Won Seung pulled out a needle and jabbed it into the Gwancheonbang escort’s spine.
“Urgh!”
The man screamed as if struck by lightning. Whatever the needle hit, he couldn’t muster any strength.
“Gonna come quietly?”
The Gwancheonbang escort nodded.
Won Seung dragged him back to his room.
“Why bring him here? Just finish it out there.”
Jong Bi wrinkled her nose.
Won Seung sat the Gwancheonbang escort in a chair and bound his limbs. Then he went to the bedroom, fetched a white vial from his leather medicine case, and returned.
“What’re you doing?”
Jong Bi watched curiously and asked.
As Won Seung stuffed a rag into the man’s mouth, he said,
“This guy lied right off the bat. Gotta take some precautions before we chat.”
With a gag in place, the Gwancheonbang escort’s face turned ashen. Torture was coming for sure.
Won Seung opened the vial, poured the white powder onto a plate, added water, and stirred it with chopsticks. It dissolved into a milky liquid.
“That stuff. Poison?”
“Nah, but it’s perfect for this situation.”
Won Seung dipped a brush in the liquid and approached, smearing it on the bruised wrist.
“Urk!”
The escort’s eyes bulged. The pain felt like his wrist was being severed—pure agony. He bit down on the gag so hard his molars ground audibly.
Jong Bi grimaced at his contorted face. His eyes looked ready to pop out.
How bad must it hurt to make that expression?
“This is too much. Just pull his nails out.”
“That’s barbaric. Could cripple him.”
“Nails grow back. I guarantee—no permanent damage. Yank a couple, and he’ll spill everything.”
Even through the excruciating pain, the Gwancheonbang escort overheard their exchange.
‘Th-these guys aren’t human.’
Won Seung soaked the brush in the milky liquid again.
“Why draw blood when we’ve got this?”
It was a bruise salve he’d developed recently, but the side effect was pain so intense he’d scrapped it without even naming it.
Won Seung moved the brush to the swollen, red cheek.
The escort shook his head frantically, tears streaming.
“Hmm. Ready to talk now?”
He nodded vigorously.
“Lie, and I’ll slather your whole face.”
Won Seung threatened as he removed the gag.
Tears and snot streaming, the escort begged,
“P-please… spare me.”
Sweating bullets, he pleaded.
“What’s your name?”
“Ogu…”
“Ninth son of the O clan?”
“Yes.”
“Casual speech, huh? Rank in Gwancheonbang?”
“Regular warrior.”
“They’re treating me like dirt. Sending a mere regular warrior as an escort.”
Won Seung fumed, and Jong Bi muttered,
“Some seniors treat you like a servant…”
As Won Seung raised the brush toward his face, Jong Bi startled and bolted from the room.
“Now no one’s interrupting. Spill everything on your mind.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“What kind of person is the Gwancheonbang Leader?”
“The Leader is one of the Hundred Great Experts of the Central Plains, the supreme master of Sangyang. None who defy Gwancheonbang survive…”
Ogu ground his teeth, but Won Seung dangled the brush before his eyes.
“Cut the crap. Tell me what you really think of the Leader. Lie again, and it’s your face.”
Ogu felt he might die if he wasn’t careful. Feeling that wrist-burning agony across his whole face? Better to bite his tongue and end it.
“I told you. He’s terrifying…”
Won Seung tapped the bruised spot on his forehead with the brush. The needle-like sting turned Ogu’s face blue as he screamed,
“Agh! Mercy! I’ll tell the truth. A grunt like me never crosses paths with the Leader. I don’t even dare look at his face—what do you want me to say?”
“Sounds truthful. Who do you work under?”
“Lord Gu.”
“Lord Gu? Gu Ja-ang?”
“……”
Won Seung nailed it on the first try, and Ogu sensed he’d slipped up.
“Not just any grunt, then. Strategist’s confidant means you’ve got some skills.”
“Confidant? Just a errand boy.”
Ogu tried to downplay himself.
“Does Gu Ja-ang treat you well? Calling him ‘Lord Gu’—must respect and wanna follow him.”
“Of course. Everyone in the gang respects Lord Gu.”
Won Seung lightly brushed his cheek with the brush.
“Liar. Never heard of a subordinate who actually respects the boss. They always badmouth them behind their backs.”
“Gaaah!”
Ogu screamed from the searing pain.
“Y-yes! I badmouth him too! I dooo!”
“What do you say?”
“Pipsqueak. Vile bastard. Cold-blooded monster without blood or tears…”
In his delirium, Ogu blurted everything, proper or not. Still, self-loathing hit—what was the point of spilling this?
“Hmm. Gu Ja-ang’s a vicious one. Petty side too. Or meticulous?”
Won Seung pieced together his own view.
“A guy like that wouldn’t tell even his confidants when or how he’ll hit Cheongsu Gate. Right?”
“?”
Mention of the Cheongsu Gate attack snapped Ogu alert. Even through the pain-fog, he knew he couldn’t leak that.
He feigned ignorance blankly, but his eyes darted side to side.
Won Seung chuckled.
“Your eyeballs are rattling loud. Don’t play dumb. Working for the strategist—you know what’s up.”
“N-no! How would a peon like me know? I just follow orders.”
“Strategist’s confidant, you said?”
“Errand boy, I said!”
Ogu shook his head.
“Not working.”
Won Seung circled a brush line around Ogu’s neck.
“Gaaack!”
Ogu screamed like his throat was slit. Won Seung grinned.
“Damn, that fake scream sounded real.”
Realizing it didn’t hurt, Ogu looked puzzled.
“This is bruise salve for contusions and burst capillaries. Your neck’s fine, so no effect. But…”
Won Seung gagged him again. Bracing for the worst, Ogu’s eyes widened.
“Close your eyes.”
Won Seung slathered the milky liquid across his entire face.
“Gaaack!”
Ogu thrashed in agony.
“Hang in there.”
Won Seung fetched water from the teapot, grabbed Ogu’s hair, and poured it over his face.
Miraculously, the pain vanished, but Ogu didn’t notice and kept writhing.
“Calm down. See? All clean now.”
Won Seung yanked his head toward the mirror. Astonishingly, the bruises from Jong Bi and Won Seung were gone.
But after that hellish pain, Ogu’s mind was half-gone. Eyes glazed, drool dripping.
“Uh…”
Won Seung jabbed a needle into his neck. Ogu’s mouth gaped. He poured in the milky liquid.
Realizing what it was, Ogu’s eyes bloodshot.
‘I’m done for!’
Same agony in his gut? Death was certain.
But Won Seung popped a white pill in his mouth. Cool relief spread through his stomach.
“Come back in a month for the antidote. Or feel that pain all over your body.”
Ogu was tough and ruthless by nature, but Won Seung’s bizarre torture broke him completely.
“What… do you want?”
“Nothing. Get lost.”
Won Seung untied him. So much thrashing—he could barely walk.
Clinging to the wall, he staggered out.
Won Seung grabbed Jong Bi as she snuck after him.
“Where you going?”
“You’re really letting him go?”
Jong Bi figured assassin-style: finish him off.
“Yeah. Let him go. I’ve got plans—that’s why I released him. Call it planting a seed.”
“Seed? What kind?”
“Seeds of distrust and betrayal.”
“Hmm. You live so complicated.”
Jong Bi feigned seriousness.
“One tip as your senior: Assassins shouldn’t think. Focus only on killing the target and surviving clean.”
“That’s why you’re stuck at second-grade assassin.”
“First-grade, I said.”
Won Seung nodded.
“Fine. Handle this job right, and I’ll recognize you as first-grade.”
“What job?”
“Head to Jungyang County.”