Chapter 136

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Translator: Ryuma

Chapter: 136

Chapter Title: The Rolling Rice Chest (1)

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I caught my breath for a long while.

Then, for the first time in ages, I spoke in modern Korean.

"You've finally shown yourself in person."

Before I could even ask what that seriousness was about, an even graver situation erupted.

Sehwa slid open the paper door.

"What are you doing?"

"Huh? Oh, no. I was just sitting here clearing my mind."

"I thought I heard a woman's voice..."

"Maybe Sukyeong from the next room is crying? My stomach's upset from the long voyage, so I need to regulate my qi alone for a bit. Please close the door."

After Sehwa eyed the rice chest in the room suspiciously and left, an emotionless voice emanated from the status window.

"Then what was that just now?"

Is it testing me? Whatever. That's not the point.

"Let's get back to the original topic. You 'all' say your situation is serious?"

Right. I'm pleased. I'd gleaned one more piece of information from that exchange.

You can see my status, but you can't read my thoughts.

From here on out, it's just a plain old 'negotiation.' My specialty as Kim Unhaeng, apostle of peace.

"How could I act with intent when I don't even know your intentions? You're the ones who assigned me this mission. Aren't you the ones trying to change something through me?"

Whether it's civil service duty to unravel a tangled timeline or the whims of transcendent intellects, who knows. But they wouldn't have granted skills and missions without intending some alteration.

The woman seemed to sigh again.

Is this the point where Guan Yu's patience snaps? They must've pulled some serious overtime.

I didn't do a damn thing. This is Joseon civil service.

But what the hell is with that Hitler-level ominous protocol naming?

Are you framing me for suspected treason and smuggling bust to 'game over' me?

The sudden crime-focused skills and foreign quests unrelated to my official path—because of that?

I fought back the chill crawling up my spine. Anyone less cautious and upright than me would've been hellbound on the spot.

Stay sharp. I calmly laid out my business.

"It wasn't intent; I simply didn't know. Tell me the 'normal' path, not the 'error.' I'll cooperate as best I can. But first, cancel that unfair contract and lift the restraints on my soul as payment."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"I still have eight left. Questionable if I'll fulfill them in my lifetime, let alone trust they'll be honored. Contracts in unequal power are worthless trash."

What the hell? Talking shit to Kim Chunsik, paragon of good faith? And you say that?

I get how that old man scammed by street phone hustlers felt.

Finally, she said the words I'd been waiting for.

"I'm supposed to designate it?"

Yes. Now, what guides you is not us, but you yourself. The yunmok (wheel-wood dice) is in your hands.

However, from here, even full tuition payment offers no guarantee of Chief State Councillor. Terms dictate soul collection ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in that case.

Pretending dismay, I smirked inwardly.

Perfect. This is the initiative I'd been angling for.

Didn't expect total contract void against you pro scammers. Rule tweak like this? Massive win.

For achievements, got just the thing.

A hardcore quest several times tougher than standard.

I named it. Tacked on a time limit as bonus for mageun.

Moments later, the rep nodded—or my empathy said so.

Then came sigh number three.

No telltale sign, but I knew.

That woman punched out.

"Hey, wait! Hey!"

Still more to squeeze out. What call center drops first before the customer? And that one-star attitude midway?

Outrage over consumer rights violation eased only after quest rewards dropped.

Per Victory Chart Inc.'s official line, their wiggle room for changes is razor-thin. Safe to assume the core Ascension to Premiership Chart system endures.

Thus, 500 mageun for top-grade rice chest draw holds.

But not pulling now. Handler's pissed. I'd tamper probs too.

That aside, why this crap skill?

Eulji Moon-deok? Water guy, right? Glitch-fucked 'Ihyang's Flame' again?

I thrust palm forward, whispered (tiny) "Skill activate!"

Of course—and thankfully—no flames. Nearly torched the house.

Pattern says related to my designated next goal. How?

No time to dwell on skill.

The 'fifth mandatory goal' popped right up.

Exactly as specified.

Deadline in barbarian era name, unintuitive. Confirmed: 1762, seven years hence... Im-o year? Yep.

Sounds brutally grim.

Bad shit aplenty in Im-o year, indeed.

Im-o Rebellion?

Sorta. But more.

Labor triumph demo'ing fallout of screwing civil servants (me).

Im-o Army Mutiny too.

The salt, sugar, copper, and other valuables Kim Unhaeng swapped at Jeolla Left Naval Station ferried to Han River docks, then dispersed to the capital via myriad paths.

One key route: Kim Unhaeng's genuine antiques.

Among livelihood-blind collectors, many scraped by. Even top judge Kim Gwang-su ended up so in dotage.

Most craved trusted Jangdong genuine auction consignment. Kim happily swapped loot for relics.

Fakes galore? Irrelevant. Desperate sellers, dirt cheap; Kim deems true.

Recipients ignored provenance. Grain for tomorrow first.

Hot potato resales laundered provenance through hands till unrecognizable. Even 'wako spoils' courted up, blurring lines.

Main artery: pyeongsun-gwan.

Shrewd ones ignored legitimacy ab initio.

Nitpick, merchants reroute jurisdictions, you chew empty tax ledgers.

"Sulfur military use, plebs shun, no sulfur pyeongsun-gwan, thus to you sir. Mercy."

"Sharp lad! Sulfur yellow clump, fits my injolmi pyeongsun-gwan. Good call. Special discount."

"Grace etched in bone."

"Aye. Spread Noryangjin Injolmi Pyeongsun-gwan Park Mo to pals. Non-sulfur fine. Boast: wide circle; drank with Dalmun, Jangdong Kim Chunsik's guest."

Something like that.

Middlemen skimmers kept Seoul prices highish, no crisis.

Liberation brigade tribute nationwide, Kim's 'devotion' via fronts don't evaporate. Barter Joseon funnels down to underlings.

Stamped shipments hit provinces. Gap markets trade 'em or ship goods up.

No Park Mun-su price-wrestling Kim curses; rice flowed smooth. Folk barely felt inflation sting.

Treasuries stocked, stamp revenue booming, realm humming—yet Yi Geum couldn't rejoice.

That thriving nation felt no longer his.

Cull lone Kim? Past salvation.

Kim warped Crown Prince already. Warped Prince acts willful. Crab-pickle soy left stinking.

E.g., snagged low-minister personnel de facto with assent, yet no Kim reinstatement.

Prince grokked long-game politics: cronyism bites later.

'Long-game?'

Yi Geum flinched, rage at flinch uncontrollable.

Why long-game for Prince? Unneeded.

King him denied Prince any future.

Two in Joseon doubt king's imminent death: Kim, king.

Yi Geum ironclad: Prince's horizon shorter.

Forced that conviction real.

Even original no-faction history, bio-kill hard.

Joseon norm: touch only underlings—no treason, crime carte blanche. Decap one or myriad? No execution grounds.

Yangnyeong deposition auto-bars sons. Tri-clan severed.

Adopt grandson/Yongdu Yi San as Hyojang's heir?

Minister/inner court nod needed. Fat chance.

Thus original/now, Yeongjo's Sado-kill toolkit narrow from jump.

Ideal: self-slaughter. Kim nuked it. Public recourse nil.

Private kill only.

Household ≠ homicide. Kin king's chattel.

Sword-stab Prince? Yi Geum saw duel-eager filial punk winning. No shot.

Not murder per se, but crime still. Best: 'father punished son; ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠unforeseen death.'

Modern: imperfect intent homicide.

E.g., mild lockup days, son croaks?

Jail? Cronies bail. Need inescapable tight spot.

Then, Yi Geum recalled private-quarters staple.

Rice chest no freak madness.

Rational monarch Yeongjo's logical endgame.

Plan sparked, Yi Geum's mind whirred.

Luck: liberation brigade crushes freak Jap/Chinese incursions; internal purge time.

Prime target: Kim.

Fishy from tiger haul. Should've clocked cub.

'Yet Hamgyong hounds thrice tiger-slay.'

No pruning overgrown Kim; nurture Kim replacement.

Careful pick, no Kim-betrayal redux.

Trad con, chose proven: blood.

Boost Hong Bong-hwan's Hullyeong dogam grip: yanked half-bro Hong In-han from exile, reemployed.

Concubine spawn, no bastard bar; in-law fine.

Hong In-han skyrocketed.

'Modern' velocity.

Munched Six Ministries lows Kim/Gangnam bled months for—in months.

Half-blood bros, worlds apart.

Birds flock. Evident: who dashed to Hong's pad.

NTR dragoman Park Sang-sun archfoe Kim Chi-ryang, post-plea letters, visit greenlit—bolted over.

Yard carnage stunned even Golden Sun Kim.

"What in blazes?"

Hong's drink-pour gisaeng posse, fun-flayed to pulp-death, littered.

Blood pools hint one-two fatalities today.

Hong toasted.

"Bloodless day dulls soul. Dire end-times, Kim Chunsik traitors rampant."

Misunderstanding disclaimer: bloodlust cackler Hong In-han no 15. Double-plus.

21c analogs exist, but toy-knife slashers taste real 'death' via fists.

Hong? Untouchable. King's pet, prince-consort uncle.

Kim there for that.

Kindred, Kim grinned at slaughter.

Park trade payoff: Kim Unhaeng sicced censorate Yu Eon-ho/Seo Myeong-seon on Kim.

'Kim re-Singye mag—outrage. Office-pretext stole concubine, Ming embassy rape; scrubbed records—what face govern/moralize?'

Dad Kim Chwi dead. Kim begged ro-clan elders—uncle ≠ sire.

Post-rebel touchy. Clan dumped rapist nephew.

Modern savvy; Joseon? Betrayal abyss.

Barring twists, Prince exiles per censors. North-schooled Prince knows Golden Suns vile.

Thus Kim sought Prince-influencer outside Kim turf.

Taxon: Hong cheok-dang, he nam-dang—Kim'd clutch gore-party if self-save.

Serial-rapist max decorum, kowtowed.

"Not lone loyal fretting Kim tyranny. Much to share, you and I."

Kim foes exist. Hong'd hear.