Okcheon Escort Agency - 4
The Tale of Hong Gildong.
The story of Hong Gildong, born a secondary son who could never call his father “Father” or his brother “Brother,” who burst out into the world, learned the arts of magic, gathered countless brothers around him, and waged righteous banditry against the entire kingdom until his parents could only sigh — a tale of supreme unfilialness, the absolute BRO-MAXIMUM.
For hundreds of years the masses had loved this hero’s story. It was perfect material for bandits to pour themselves into, the ideal tale to spin right in front of Heokho Fort.
I looked out across the feast hall. Everyone already had a cup or two in them; the place was scattered and noisy, yet the air buzzed with high spirits.
“What the hell is some barbarian mutt doing playing Maedamja?”
“Hong Gildong? What kind of crap is that? Just bring more booze!”
Some of the bandits cast expectant glances my way, hungry for a story. Plenty more eyed me with open suspicion — how good could a foreign mongrel possibly be? — while others simply laughed and shouted among themselves, not even looking over.
From the very first line I’ve got to grab them by the throat.
If I opened with the usual self-pity about not being allowed to say “Father” or “Brother,” half of them would zone out or decide the whole thing was too heavy and tune me out completely.
“Long ago in Joseon there lived a celebrated prime minister of the Hong clan. He had two sons — one born of the legitimate wife, the other born of a lowly maidservant! Yet this son of a maidservant carried a tremendous secret!”
Open with curiosity.
Hong Gildong was a novel. Unlike the dialogue-heavy style I used for the Young Master of the Hamurin, I launched into the story in a lively, storytelling cadence that felt good to listen to.
“Isn’t he just the prime minister’s kid?”
“Look at this bastard thinking exactly like himself.”
The moment I planted that question mark, a few of the bandits who had been ignoring me turned their heads.
I glanced around, then launched straight into the startled expression of Prime Minister Hong.
“Thunder and lightning shook the heavens, and a blue dragon tore through the clouds! I looked up in shock — only for that very dragon to come flying straight at me! I jolted awake and realized it had been a dream… yet it had felt every bit as real as waking life!”
“A dragon in a dream ain’t exactly everyday business.”
“Just a wet dream, right?”
“That’s why you never notice anything.”
“Ah-ha! A dragon entered my body! Surely this means I shall sire a precious child! My wife — are you in your chambers?”
“What in heaven’s name is this husband doing barging in at midnight?! At least set the mood first! Trying to pounce on your wife like that? Even beasts show more manners! Get out!”
Curiosity flipped straight into bedroom farce, layered with just enough comedy to keep the rowdy energy alive while sliding every eye in the room toward me.
“Heh. Whether it’s Joseon or here, the ladies all care about atmosphere.”
“The fierce ones are always like that. Means they haven’t been properly clubbed enough.”
“Heh. So your middle club isn’t enough and you need tools, huh?”
“That guy’s isn’t a club — it’s a little stick, kekeke.”
“You sons of bitches… just listen to the damn story!”
The Green Forest bandit whose “club” had just been called out couldn’t even deny it; his face flushed scarlet as he roared.
“Prime Minister Hong had a blue dragon raging inside him — and another blue dragon raging just as hard between his legs! Yet his wife turned him down cold, leaving him to lament… when right before his eyes a lowly slave girl approached with worried eyes and asked, ‘My lord, is something the matter?’”
“Heh. I already know where this is going.”
I opened my mouth with the oily grin and brazen delivery of the youngest construction worker spinning filthy yarns among the older men.
“Prime Minister Hong looked the maid over carefully! Skin whiter than any noble lady’s. Face prettier. Years younger than the wife. And when she bowed before him her upper clothes lifted just a little — and ohhh… two full moons were nestled right there inside. Now tell me, nobleman or prime minister, who in hell could hold back?”
Nothing spikes an uncle’s concentration like a solid sex joke.
“Hehehehe. No way you hold back.”
“If you hold back there you’re not a prime minister — you’re a eunuch waiting to happen.”
Look at them. Mention something filthy and suddenly every ear is locked on.
The bandits set down their cups and bowls as one, every face twisting into the same knowing, lecherous smile as they already predicted the next scene.
Every eye in Heokho Fort was now mine.
Time to declare the real beginning.
“The deed was done, and a child was born carrying the dragon’s aura! That child was none other than today’s hero — Hong Gildong!”
I had opened with dirty jokes to jack their immersion sky-high, then walked them through Hong Gildong’s extraordinary birth, his talents, and the discrimination that followed a secondary son — all through dialogue and narration they could feel in their bones.
“My station is too low to follow the teachings of Confucius and Mencius! Even if I master military strategy I can never win great merit for the country! I cannot call my father ‘Father’ nor my brother ‘Brother’ — how can this not fill a man with grief?”
I poured out the lament of Hong Gildong, a genius walled off by the barrier of low birth, unable to spread his wings.
“I know that feeling. My old man only ever favored my older brother because he was the eldest grandson.”
“Same here. I was a slave’s kid, and everyone said I was sharper than the master’s own son — who was more pig than boy. But in the end that pig still got everything.”
“Aigoo, fuck. Don’t even start about how they treated me for being ‘baseborn.’ Makes my chest ache just thinking about it.”
There wasn’t a single bandit without a story. Favoritism, discrimination, contempt — take your pick.
Once Gildong’s resentment struck that shared nerve, the scattered noise died away. Every man leaned in to see what Hong Gildong would do next.
“Hong Gildong learned magic and stepped out into the world! But could a man of his birth become an official? A military officer? A merchant with not a single coin? Hong Gildong was shoved into exactly the same corner as you brothers here.”
Now sink the hook deeper.
“Same corner as us?”
“Brothers! Is there anyone here who grew up thinking, ‘When I grow up I’m going to kill people and rob for a living’? If there is, raise your hand.”
I raised my own hand high, inviting any born monster to join me.
“……”
Of course not. I nodded as if I’d known all along and pressed on.
“Why are you all sitting here right now? Because this filthy, rotten world made you exactly like Hong! Gil! Dong!”
“Damn right!”
“Who the hell wanted to be a bandit from the cradle?”
“I’m Hong Gildong……”
Perfect. I could hear the immersion climbing.
“So Hong Gildong, deciding to become a Green Forest man just like you brothers, walked straight into the mountain stronghold where every Green Forest chief of Joseon’s eight provinces had gathered and told them to their faces: ‘From this day you are all my subordinates.’”
“He’s insane.”
“Story’s over already?”
“Idiot. You think Hong Gildong loses to Joseon’s Green Forest after learning magic?”
“Exactly! Who is Hong Gildong? The man who folds the earth beneath his feet and runs!”
To play Hong Gildong properly I stepped down from the platform. With no preparatory stance at all I channeled inner energy through the bubbling spring points on my soles and strode right up to the feast table.
“The man who commands the wind! Who calls rain from a clear sky and splits the heavens with his sword!”
Snap! I snapped open a fan and swept it in a wide dancer’s arc, raising a gust, then folded it again and cut horizontally in a slow, perfect form the whole room could see.
“Shr— shrinking the earth?!”
“Dumbass. If he really knew magic he wouldn’t still be standing here. Guess even a Maedamja’s got one trick.”
“Still startled me for a second. Felt real.”
Nice staging, right? The bandits sat open-mouthed, hanging on every move of my little magic show.
“Hong Gildong made every Green Forest chief of the eight provinces his subordinate, then declared: ‘Crispy chicken like this vanishes the moment you eat it!’”
I smoothly plucked a chicken leg from the feast table and stuffed the whole thing into my mouth in one bite.
Honestly, half the performance was just an excuse to raid the buffet. The smell of hot food while I talked had been driving me insane.
First real meal in three days. God, it was good.
“A woman grows old and ends; gold and silver vanish the moment you spend them! Therefore let us steal the single most precious treasure under heaven, something nothing else can compare to!”
I finished the line and casually committed the unforgivable crime of a second chicken leg — something not even a proper bandit would dare — while watching their faces.
“Hey, what’s the most precious treasure?!”
“You’re supposed to eat after the story’s over! Spill it — what’s the treasure?!”
The second I stopped talking to chew, the bandits started yelling in pure frustration.
You bastards made a man who’s starved for three days perform without a single bite and you’re going to lock me back in the cell the moment I’m done. A little cruel, don’t you think?
“Hong Gildong’s precious treasure! It is none other than—”
“Than what?!”
“Ahem… my throat’s gone dry. Can’t get the words out.”
I grinned shamelessly, picked up an empty bowl rolling nearby, and held it out toward the nearest bandit still clutching a wine jar, his face full of curiosity.
“Hehehe. This crazy bastard! Either your guts are huge or they’ve spilled completely outside your belly. Pulling Yojeonbeop right here in Heokho Fort? Fine! Drink up!”
The bandit laughed and poured until the bowl was full. Ahhh. The liquor hit just right, sliding straight into my empty stomach.
“Hey! Don’t let that guy come back down! Just stuff him full and send him back up!”
“Here! Skewers too! Eat fast!”
I happily filled my gut at the instant buffet the bandits threw together, then climbed back onto the platform.
“The enormous treasure Hong Gildong stole! It was none other than the hearts of the people!”
I hardened my expression again and raised my voice so every corner of the hall could hear.
“What kind of treasure are commoners’ hearts?”
“Why steal something you can’t eat or spend?”
“Way to kill the mood. All you get from a passing peasant is pocket change!”
They clearly had no idea what a cheat-code “the people’s hearts” really was.
“How does a bandit who can only steal other people’s stuff go and steal the people’s hearts?”
I began recounting Hong Gildong’s deeds one by one, laying out every exploit of the Hwalbindang.
“They stormed the mansions of corrupt officials, crushed them all, and emptied the treasuries! They beat the high-interest loan sharks who gouged the poor and burned every debt ledger! They forced open the granaries of the rich farmers who bled the tenant farmers dry and distributed the grain to starving commoners! Tell me — how could the people’s hearts not be stolen?”
I flung both arms wide as if cradling a gigantic, invisible heart of the people.
“So a bandit who only knows how to steal things really can steal hearts after all.”
“Whoa. Keep the expensive gold and silver, give away the heavy rice? Smart as hell.”
“If you do it that way you pocket the money and the people’s hearts at the same time.”
The moment the bandits realized even a pure thief could steal the people’s hearts, the hall began to murmur and stir.
“Brothers of Heokho Fort! You can fight escort agencies and swing swords and rob merchant caravans and shake down travelers for a hundred days and all you’ll earn is the people’s hatred. But the Hwalbindang is different! Once word spreads across Joseon’s eight provinces, every village starts praying: please, let the Hwalbindang come to our town. Please smash our local corrupt officials, rich farmers, and loan sharks to pieces. Day and night they wait with one prayer only — for Hong Gildong and the Hwalbindang!”
I closed my eyes and mimed a humble peasant praying for bandits to arrive.
“Waiting for bandits to show up……”
“Doing bandit work… and getting praised for it……”
I cracked my eyes open. Every bandit sat open-mouthed or blank-faced, clearly hit hard.
Vicarious satisfaction.
That was the biggest reason I had chosen The Tale of Hong Gildong — the righteous-bandit arc and the pure proxy thrills it delivered.
No matter how used to banditry the men of Heokho Fort had become, the knowledge that it was still a bad thing lived in some corner of every chest.
First I made them pour themselves into Hong Gildong. Then the righteous-bandit section began.
The Hwalbindang committed the exact same acts that left a residual guilt in a man’s heart — yet received praise for them. The bandits who immersed themselves in the story felt, for a little while, as if they themselves were the ones receiving that praise.
“Across Joseon’s eight provinces the young men sprint to the mountain strongholds the moment they spot soldiers and shout for the brothers to run! The girls dream of marrying a Hwalbindang hero! The children swear they’ll grow up to join the Hwalbindang instead of becoming officials! The entire country loves the Hwalbindang more than the king himself!”
“Being a bandit can become a dream?!”
“Do righteous banditry and you can still be a bandit… and a hero……”
“Righteous banditry earns respect……”
“I want that kind of respect too.”
I deliberately piled on more righteous-bandit tales, cranking their vicarious satisfaction to the maximum.
The more they heard about the people’s reverence, about Hong Gildong and the Hwalbindang’s deeds, the more the bandits either gasped in admiration or simply sat glazed and fully immersed.
At some point not a single hand reached for the feast table again.
They were too deep in The Tale of Hong Gildong to waste time on food.
“Hong Gildong led his subordinates and the commoners who followed him to an island called Huju and founded the nation of Yuldo! There he built a country where all people lived equal and happy!”
I snapped the fan open, closed it, and bowed to the bandits to signal the end of the tale.
“Waaaaaah! That was amazing!!”
“Brother Hong Gildong! He even founded a whole country!”
“A nation where every last person is equal and happy……”
“A story of a bandit loved by the entire people!! Too good!”
Every Green Forest man of Heokho Fort surged to his feet, clapping and laughing with pure joy as they received the ending.
The reaction was almost too good. I never expected a standing ovation.
“Kehehehe. Barbarian Maedamja! Get over here!”
As I stepped down from the platform the Lord of Heokho Fort’s voice rolled across the hall.
“Haha. Did the story please you, Clan Lord?”
I bowed as politely as I could.
“It did! I looked down on you for being a barbarian, but this! What a splendid bag of stories you are! I liked it!”
“I’m glad it pleased you.”
“Since it pleased me, a promise is a promise! Here — your prize money!”
The Clan Lord pulled a money pouch from his robe and tossed it in front of me.
Through the half-open mouth of the pouch gold and silver coins glittered. Far more than a street Maedamja could ever earn in a single performance.
“I cannot accept it.”
But I must not take that money.
With a completely serious face I refused the Heokho Clan Lord’s prize.
“What? You little shit! You’re rejecting my goodwill?!”
The Clan Lord’s face twisted instantly; he roared so hard the entire feast hall froze solid again.
I want that money too, you bastard.
If I had truly been invited here as a Maedamja I would have snatched the pouch, stuffed it away, and used every coin for writing materials. Inside I was bleeding tears of blood.
I swallowed the regret, put on a small smile, and opened my mouth.
“How could I ever reject your kindness, Clan Lord? Instead of prize money… grant me one small wish.”
Give me something else instead of cash.
“A wish? Kehehe. Fine. Let’s hear what wish you want granted.”
His tone made it clear he wasn’t promising to grant whatever I said — just that he would listen.
“Idiot. He’s gonna ask to be let go.”
“No way. The Clan Lord would never accept a demand like that.”
Whispers behind me stabbed straight into my ears.
Yeah. Ask to be released and I’m straight back in the cell. But that isn’t the wish I’m asking for.
I stepped closer until I stood right in front of the feast table laid out for the Clan Lord.
“Clan Lord. My wish is neither the prize money nor my freedom.”
“Then what?”
I hadn’t told the story to be set free.
I had told it to win the Clan Lord’s heart.
Ask to be released and you will never win his heart.
The wish I would beg for was this:
“You who are the Hong Gildong of the Central Plains! The renowned Lord of Heokho Fort of Hubei Province! My wish is something more precious than gold or silver! It is simply… to receive one cup of wine poured by the Lord of Heokho Fort himself!”