Chapter 218
Chapter 218
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 218
Chapter Title: Continental Dash Breakdown Overdrive (1)
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Jeong Hu-gyeom trembled violently from the poison of the white aconite grass, but he still mustered the strength to shout.
"Your Highness! You must not be deceived by this vile traitor. Please issue the command to suppress the rebels!"
Yi Geum slowly turned his head to gaze at the soldiers who were supposed to carry out that 'command to suppress the rebels.'
At the end of that gaze were Jeong Hu-gyeom's righteous army volunteers, running around naked and whooping like mad.
Yi Geum sighed. After a brief silence, he said to Kim I-hwan,
"Get those filthy wretches out of my sight."
"Yes, Your Highness. My apologies."
What followed could hardly be called a battle—it was more like a rescue operation. Everyone, including Jeong Hu-gyeom, got thoroughly thrashed (before they froze to death), their body heat raised in the process, and then roughly bundled up and tossed into the barracks.
Kim I-hwan soon had a private audience with the former king.
"It was solely thanks to Your Highness's profound wisdom that we were able to stop the rebels this time."
It was mockery of the highest caliber.
But Kim I-hwan couldn't help feeling a bit smug, befitting his age. After all, his interlocutor was one of the greatest eccentrics of the previous era, a man even his own father hadn't dared to scheme against lightly.
Yi Geum laughed coldly.
"Do you think this happened because you or your father are so competent? You arrogant pup who hasn't even shed your milk teeth—your impudence knows no bounds. Even without you, I wouldn't have followed those fools. Would you eat shit just because you're hungry?"
Kim I-hwan thought people usually said seawater in such cases, but he decided to chalk it up to extreme loathing for fools.
More pressing was the 'other reason' Yi Geum had hinted at. Kim I-hwan humbly bowed his head.
"I shall take your teachings to heart."
But Yi Geum clammed up.
Yi Geum knew full well that if he staged a restoration, Yeongdu Daegun would be the top candidate for successor.
As the man in Joseon who pondered restoration the most, the conclusion came to him as reflexively as a knee-jerk reaction.
Yet what Yi Geum had mulled over even more than restoration was the conversation he'd had with his son Yi Hwon back when Namhansanseong was still a fortress.
'So he's a bit dim, and makes mistakes—what of it? If he's family or a friend, you forgive him.'
'I'll create a kingdom where no one fears each other.'
With a conviction that transcended logic, Yi Geum intuitively sensed that the wedge he'd driven into Yeongdu Daegun's heart with old military tactics and divisive schemes had already come loose.
Even as a deposed former king, he had to exchange courtesies, and the archery incident mentioned in the letter from Yeongdu Daegun only reinforced that intuition.
Yeongdu Daegun would not share his father's hatred.
Thus, restoration would be meaningless. Not because he couldn't hold onto power for long, but because that kingdom was no longer the ironclad state he envisioned.
But Yi Geum didn't share this with Kim I-hwan.
To Yi Geum, the young whippersnapper before him wasn't worthy of such regrets. At the very least, it would take Kim Unhaeng himself—the man who'd truly competed on the same stage—to earn that.
So Yi Geum said curtly,
"I'm not telling. Get out."
Kim I-hwan sensed there was nothing more to pry from Yi Geum. He quietly withdrew.
Setting aside his peculiar lust for pregnancy, Hong Gu-gyeong was sharp enough to be called King Jeongjo's right wing at a young age.
He wasn't foolish enough to let emotions ruin his plans. Hong Gu-gyeong judged coldly.
"We hit Jangdong first."
Even with the army away from the capital, the palace had the Royal Guard Office, heralds, and duty soldiers. Never mind the Iron Staff crew—the entire Crown Prince Escort was made up of military officers.
So Hong Gu-gyeong's plan was to smash the Kim clan base in Jangdong, capture the high officials there, hijack their security codes, and wreck key institutions across the capital. Once attention was scattered, they'd sneak into the palace.
Hong Gu-gyeong and his merry band of friends galloped bravely westward. They were his gambling buddies, pillar men of the gisaeng houses, escaped slaves, and the like.
Above all, Hong Gu-gyeong pinned his hopes on his secret weapon.
He turned to Jeong Han-ryong, a fierce-looking young man from Banchon.
"Once this is over, you and your gang will be officials. No need to even mention emancipation—you'll get real positions immediately."
"Yessir. Don't you worry."
Banchon was Hanseong's Nine Dragons Fortress equivalent—a lawless zone.
A ghetto utterly isolated from outsiders, with no intermarriages or exchanges. Their unique tongue, like the howl of wolves, was said to differ greatly from standard Joseon speech.
And their customs were brutally savage. They had a reputation for striking first with knives and awls over words.
How such an underground mutant group was tolerated in the capital? Because their employer and patron was Seonggyungwan.
Banchon was Seonggyungwan's fief and manor. Even the king couldn't arrest its residents at will. How could state power stomp its boots into a sacred academy?
Thus, no one was better suited as contract thugs. Hong Gu-gyeong had hired plenty from Banchon besides Jeong Han-ryong.
Perhaps due to their long isolation in an extraterritorial zone, Banchon folk scoffed at most 'outsider' power brokers. They knew little of Kim Unhaeng's might.
Especially since Kim Unhaeng had never held a Seonggyungwan post.
For someone of his rank, serving as Great Sacrificer (Senior 3rd Rank) would be normal, and rumors swirled that even Kim Chunsik quietly hoped for it due to exam interests—but the king who favored him hesitated on that alone.
The shadowy underworld force Kim Unhaeng, who dominated Seoul's dark alleys, had never touched. For Hong Gu-gyeong, it was the perfect card after weighing all factors.
As they ran, Jeong Han-ryong thumbed his nose and blew a raspberry.
"That Kim Chunsik or whatever, strutting around calling himself a great house these days. Heard his minions have been raiding old gisaeng houses, taverns, and gambling dens in Hanseong, killing our friends. If not for the soldiers, we'd have plastered the walls with wanted posters long ago. Time to teach him some manners."
"Just as you say. Miss this chance, and it won't come again."
Jangdong was a stone's throw from anywhere in Seoul.
The bailiffs, spotting the untouchables charging with clubs, pretended not to see the lowly mob.
They soon reached Sajikdan west of Gyeongbokgung.
Think of it as a signpost for 'arrival.' Left from Sajikdan led to Inwangsan; right to Jangdong. Both in plain sight.
But blocking the road were people utterly unrelated to Joseon's altar of earth and grain gods.
Hong Gu-gyeong was dumbfounded.
"Foreigners?"
Shin Suk-ju, Joseon's ace scout with a knack for combat assessment, once called the Japanese 'a nation of yakuza whose specialty is sashimi slicing.'
If Banchon butchers were amateurs at their butcher trade, the Japanese were pros.
Sure enough, the leader drew his sword with practiced ease.
"My name is Hiraga Gen'nai! Hanseong's greatest swordsman!"
He'd even forgotten it himself, but Hiraga was a samurai firstborn. True, compared to Edo's hundreds of sword dojos, civilized Hanseong lacked them—so 'strongest' wasn't a lie.
Hong Gu-gyeong's crew indeed flinched at Hiraga's long katana. Their arms were mostly clubs, daggers, or at best short ring-pommel swords.
Jeong Han-ryong growled.
"Does this Kim Chunsik deal with filthy Japs too? I'm lowly, sure, but I can't stand seeing barbarians before the altar gods."
He glared around fiercely and urged them on.
"What are you waiting for? If you're scared of dwarves, go home, castrate yourselves with an awl, and die!"
With that, he leaped forward, and the Banchon crew, emboldened, roared as they charged.
Jeong Han-ryong and Hiraga Gen'nai clashed in a fair duel of leaders.
Those versed in blades know felling a tree with a steel sword isn't as easy as it sounds. Jeong Han-ryong used his sturdy club to parry, denying 'swing room.'
Then he launched a merciless strike. Thwack! His left foot slammed into the groin.
Hiraga Gen'nai could only clutch his crotch, foam at the mouth, and collapse. The gap from katana to carving knife had been too long.
Chunsik's gang reeled in shock and fury at their No. 1 captain's fall. Soon the groups tangled viciously—stabbing, slashing, pounding, slicing.
Blood formed streams before Sajikdan. The earth god Sa and grain goddess Jik blinked at the unexpected offering but drank it as fertilizer for next year's harvest.
It was a lawless street brawl amid absent policing—like late Edo period chaos.
But this time, the chunkers seemed to be losing to the sitters.
Jeong Han-ryong had just grabbed Hiraga's hair, snatched his sword, and raised it to behead him when his eyes rolled back. He dropped everything and faceplanted.
A dagger was buried in his neck. From afar came a thunderous roar no normal mouth could muster.
"Kill every last one of those butcher scum!"
Catfish mouth, snowy white topknot. It was Samhwadang's loan shark Dalmun.
Once a clown too, Dalmun hurled his trick flying swords in rapid succession. Fifty years a bachelor—pure high-level magic.
A master's flying sword pierces even modern steel plates. When blades sank into the thickest thugs' throats, Dalmun's circus followed up.
No acrobat is clumsy with their own limbs. Personal combat boils down to physical prowess over fancy martial arts.
Now numbers and skill flipped.
And above all, the desperation of those who'd revert to gutter poverty without Kim Unhaeng's backing clinched the win.
Hong Gu-gyeong was indeed clever. He grasped the tide and slipped away unnoticed.
Bound by proprieties, the crown princess sat stamping her feet, but the crown prince couple and Yeongdu Daegun enjoyed themselves in their own way.
Kim Suksuk especially orchestrated the games masterfully, switching them seamlessly to avoid boredom. Sometimes she'd have eunuchs play Ghost Go Master, but mostly she watched the two and chimed in.
After losses at baduk, janggi, and arrow-throwing, Crown Prince Yi Jeong huffed and fetched something only he knew: chess from the missionaries.
But mid-game with Yi San, Yi Jeong was cornered again after a few moves.
The crown prince sweated bullets. Losing to his wife was one thing; to his brother too? He'd lose face. He pondered flipping the board.
Then salvation arrived.
Kim Suksuk, hearing a whisper from a court lady, said offhandedly,
"The sun's set outside, and they'll ring the bell soon. Time flies."
It seemed longer than mere info, but Yi Jeong didn't care. He shot up like he'd been waiting.
"What a shame. Yeongdu Daegun, return to your quarters. We didn't settle the last game— we'll finish later."
As Yi San withdrew, the crown prince said wistfully,
"If we'd gone to the end, I'd have won."
"Indeed, to my eyes. How could a brother outdo his elder?"
Having toyed with Yi Jeong, Kim Suksuk directed cleanup while summoning a few attendants.
Yi Jeong ignored what she ordered; he obsessed over avoiding check.
Sunset was real—winter darkened quickly.
Yi San, lantern-led, startled at a figure on the no-night-travel path.
"Aren't you Hong Byolgam? What's with that getup?"
Torn and battered, Hong Gu-gyeong scanned around and blurted desperately,
"Rebellion, Your Grace! Flee at once. Jangdong Kim clan has risen."
But Yeongdu Daegun didn't react as hoped. He asked coolly,
"Why would Jangdong Kim rebel? I've spent the day with the crown prince and princess. If Kim Unhaeng or Kim I-hwan rebelled, would the crown prince palace let me go?"
An unbelievable question from a 13-year-old. Yi San was genius-tier like Kim I-hwan, Jeong Hu-gyeom, or Hong Gu-gyeong.
His brilliance stifled only by guilt from Namhansanseong, until Kim Unhaeng broke the seal at the archery.
Now Yi San was a king not yet crowned. Hong Gu-gyeong, who'd planned to scare the kid and whisk him off, stammered.
"W-well, that is..."
"I don't even know what you're saying. Drunk? Come back at dawn."
Yi San turned curtly. Only after he and his servant walked ten paces did Hong realize the worst.
'No way—the crown prince palace knew everything and kept Yeongdu Daegun here all day to protect him!'
That meant the crown prince side would bury it quietly—no mention of Yeongdu Daegun from him or Jeong Hu-gyeom.
Self-defense impossible. He'd vanish without a trace.
As Kaoru once pointed out, types like Hong or Jeong appeared envious of handsome, silver-tongued Kim Unhaeng's rise.
But they overlooked one thing: Kim Unhaeng-style 'charm offense' needed power parity.
Hong's mind blanked. His dash to Yeongdu halted.
Stay in Joseon, and he'd die for sure. He had to bolt trade routes to China. Unthinkable in original history, but feasible now.
His global savvy surpassing even Kim Unhaeng's—alas, unrealized.
Another of Joseon's isolation master Kim Unhaeng's underlings appeared behind. Hong whirled at the shadow.
Crown Prince Escort Captain Seo Pyo Cheol-ju, iron staff over shoulder.
Hong reached out.
"W-wait! Hear me out!"
Crack! The staff smashed his skull. As Hong crumpled, Pyo grinned.
"Nah."
The Jangdong Kim family chose minimal cover-up for this incident not just to protect Yeongdu Daegun—there was another reason.
Kim I-hwan reported to his mother.
"If word spreads of rebellion in the capital, the royal procession and army must return. How can we let flies we've already swatted derail Father's grand ambition? These past days were just a 'minor disturbance.'"
"You've grown up."
Seo Hwa gazed fondly at her son.
Kim Unhaeng's actions made his goal plain as day.
The ultimate feat to cap his unprecedented career since the dynasty's founding? Nothing but the northern expedition. Why else would a civilian like him lead armies?
And as always, Kim Unhaeng would succeed.
Then Jangdong Kim would seize honors surpassing the royal house. Even if the nation changed ten times, Kim Unhaeng's name would endure.
As Princess Hwanung and Jeong Hu-gyeom despaired separately, Seo Hwa and Kim I-hwan clasped hands in joy.
Author's Notes
1. A 'short ring-pommel sword' means short among ring-pommel swords, not shorter than Japanese ones. Japanese katanas vary, but Joseon ring-pommel swords differ wildly in length and purpose too—hard to generalize.
2. Hiraga Gen'nai's line parodies the game 'Ghosts 'n Goblins 2.' He's not famed as a swordsman historically, but later got drunk, slashed someone fatally, got arrested, and died in prison.
3. Banchon, supplying meat to Seonggyungwan and handling finances like a semi-fief, was uniquely protected despite butcher stigma. Early Yeongjo era: a Banchon man caught mid-theft axed a pursuer and fled home—bailiffs couldn't enter. Yeongjo ordered a search by royal decree; scholars rioted to protect Yeongjo. In 1765 (Yeongjo 41, around story time), a police chief arrested a thief in Banchon but got fired on Seonggyungwan's demand.
Customs: 'Fearless of death, full of camaraderie.' 'In fights, slash chests and stab thighs' (=aiming vitals for kills). Language: 'Cries like songs,' 'shouts, wails, words, even object names differ.' Contemporaries guessed origins from Gaeseong differing from Seoul; no modern linguistics comparison.
Jeong Han-ryong is real—from Banchon. In Jeongjo 1, tried for killing via kneecap slash with ring-pommel sword.
(Referenced Kang Myeong-gwan, Scenes from Joseon's Back Alleys.)
4. Joseon acrobatics, especially 'salpan' flips, look acrobatic or breakdancing to modern eyes. Dance relates heavily to martial arts, they say.