Chapter 40
Chapter 40
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: Beasts' Festival (1)
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‘Beast Blood Affinity’ wasn’t just one-sided taming.
Animals followed me well, but it also let me understand them deeply, almost like Sejong the Great.
I could sense what the horse wanted, how to saddle it, tighten the girth, and which spots to avoid—not as knowledge, but as pure empathy.
In terms of perception, it felt like making love with a long-time, comfortable partner.
It’s not something learned or taught. Hard to explain in words, but it just happens naturally, you know?
The Crown Prince, already mounted, watched me mount with practiced ease and exclaimed in admiration.
"But have you ever played polo? It’s one of the martial arts for the elite, but unless you’re a soldier, it’s tough to pick up."
Of course it would be. You need to be part of a group that can mobilize large numbers of warhorses.
I quickly replied,
"I’ve never tried it at all. I’d just get in the way of skilled knights. So I..."
"Haha! Don’t worry. I’ll teach you."
You little shit. Your dad’s a dog, and you’re a pup.
Polo is an incredibly rough sport... no, it’s a brawl.
In historical dramas, it’s shown gently, with horses and players trotting politely while swinging hockeysticks, because both are expensive.
Here too, horses are pricey (players less so), but as I said before, Joseon people don’t commit crimes because they don’t know punishment awaits.
Horses being expensive is even more true now. But that doesn’t connect to “they’re expensive, so don’t damage them.”
The military officers crashed into each other fiercely to prove their valor before the next king, who’d likely ascend soon.
It wasn’t just Joseon; in this era, ‘sports’ and ‘war’ weren’t clearly distinguished anywhere.
Western missionaries feigned shock at Joseon’s seokjeon games, but they’d react the same to boxing or football. It’d take them another century to use gloves in boxing.
If you die, it’s your fate. They call it predestination with fancy words, but the essence is the same.
To me, they seemed to hit people and horses more than the ball with their polo mallets.
Horses weren’t fatally injured, but a bad hit on a person could break bones or tear flesh. The horses foamed and bucked in rage, just as dangerous.
I simply couldn’t fit into this festival of barbarians.
I’m certain: we can’t give these guys machine guns or steamships.
Who knows what they’d do? Giving such things to immature people is what the British proved disastrous.
Thank God I can’t make them. The civil servant isekai hero was the right answer.
The Crown Prince’s prized steed seemed to share my thoughts, dodging attacks with divine footwork.
Smoother than joystick controls in a game. We became one with the horse, flowing through the violence like water.
The injured officers, sidelined early and bandaged up on the outskirts, clapped and shouted.
"My word, they said he was a master of both pen and sword, and it’s no exaggeration!"
"I’ve never seen such perfect unity between rider and horse. I once saw Jurchen cavalry on a royal procession, but even they couldn’t match this."
"Heard he topped the literary exams, but looks like he skipped books for horsemanship. Did he beat out all rivals to claim first?"
Should I pretend it’s a mistake and charge my pony at them? Want to get shredded by my little guy?
Whatever they said, I had no intention of trying hard.
No talent for it, and social reasons too.
The officers chattered on.
"No, even if it’s his own horse, he doesn’t seem to have played polo. Look, he’s just dodging—hasn’t landed a hit."
"Haha! Of course. If a civilian aced polo too, what would become of our pride?"
That’s it. Stick your spoon in someone else’s rice bowl, and chopsticks end up in your neck. Plus, they have guns.
I just waited for polo to end, but the Crown Prince wasn’t pleased.
He hadn’t been injured once, for reasons everyone knows, unlike me.
"Even for a first-timer, how can a man not swing boldly once? Here, I’ll pass it—strike back!"
You madman. That’s why men die young. You especially.
The deaf-to-my-inner-screams Crown Prince swung his mallet, scraping the ground.
The ball, meant to skim the dirt, was lofted high by the force.
Like a centering pass, but on horseback—advanced technique rarely seen.
The ball arced at my pony’s eye level.
Startled, the pony stumbled despite my skills. I nearly tumbled but swung my mallet desperately to balance.
The ball wasn’t even on my mind. Time slowed; the tassel on my mallet fluttered.
Yet my flailing swing perfectly struck the Crown Prince’s lob.
Desperation fueled it—the ball lasered through center field.
Pro baseball players dodge such pitches; the officers just gawked.
The ball splendidly tore the net (goals like hockey).
The Crown Prince looked happier than ever, laughing heartily.
"Indeed, the Dog-Beating Stick lives up to its name! Your stick work is masterful!"
The officers were stunned.
"He could deflect incoming long arrows with that!"
"Never played polo, but stick arts? He’s a true master!"
"Why’d a guy like that go civil service?"
"Even I’d pick civvy over military... but still a shame."
"A civilian showing such talent—like old Kim Jongseo!"
"Just hope he doesn’t copy his downfall."
This time, I really pretended to drop my mallet and hurled it at the jerk.
Screams and commotion followed. Break your own damn head.
Polo ended in victory for the Crown Prince’s team.
This event’s secret, so they’ll keep quiet, right?
But him? Untrustworthy. Nail him down.
I roped in Kim Sunhaeng, my colleague newly promoted to Concurrent Scribe (Regular 4th Rank) at the Crown Prince’s Institute.
Sunhaeng seemed timid as a brother, but he’s a Joseon bureaucrat.
His rep for fawning on those in power wears out chairs—no, slandered by the lowly, but he’s a master of survival.
I couldn’t help learning from him as kin.
I greased his request smoothly with some financial aid.
With Hongmungwan Assistant Scribe (me) and former Scribe, current Institute Scribe allied, tweaking duty logs was easy.
We erased my name, inserting Yeo Seonyung—my junior level—instead.
He’d just joined as Institute Librarian (Regular 6th), strutting with his Censorate background.
No feelings for Yeo personally, but Noron faction hates him.
He fiercely pushed deleting Yoon Deokhwa—Noron midwife—from the slate, Song Siyol zealot.
The king refused, but bad blood stuck.
Reason? Joseon logic: aiding family is corruption. Who helps kin if not family? Ungrateful bastard.
Such a guy near the Crown Prince? Bad influence.
After faking the docs, I visited Han Ikmo, Grand Scribe, also serving as the Crown Prince’s instructor.
The Horse-Year uncle who helped at my initiation.
"Due to my failings, I hesitate to speak, but I’ve been slandered and must vent."
"Slandered? How?"
"Librarian Yeo Seonyung, unknown for literary talent yet holding office arrogantly, badmouths me to boost his rep amid scholars’ scorn."
As Grand Scribe, regular remonstrations are duty. Noron’s Han, itching to hit Yeo, lit up.
"Tell me details."
"He claims I lured the Crown Prince to polo. True His Highness played, but I dissuaded him. He twists my standing by as spreading rumors. Me, lifelong bookworm, riding and swinging? Absurd!"
Han raged at the ridiculous slander.
"I knew his evil from the Yoon affair. Leave it to me, nephew."
Now his nephew, I whistled home.
Han eloquently remonstrated the Crown Prince.
Front: standard virtue lecture, hinting the king watches.
Back: cite Yeo’s villainy, suggest replacement.
Crown Prince thinks: ‘The king dislikes Yeo?’
Yeo’s faction dragged Park Mun-su for attacks, but Yeongjo ignored, appointing Yoon.
So the Crown Prince approved Yeo’s swap. Bye.
Rumors muddied if it was me or Yeo on horse, of course.
Officers know, but high Policy Debators or low clerks rarely mingle with us. Those levels don’t affect me directly.
Safe for now.
I rode home leisurely on the pony the Crown Prince generously gifted, saying it unusually favored me.
Returned post-polo, but handlers said no one else could control it after days with me.
Sorry. You can’t go back to military life.
We bonded escaping that hell. Beasts remember those who shield them unscathed.
I stroked the pony’s mane. This one brings luck.
Squatting in our yard, I said,
"Chobok, sit."
Our house mutt Chobok sat obediently.
"Hand."
Lifted paw onto my hand.
"Go to the shed, fetch the kitten by the door."
Chobok dashed, dragging string-tied kitten in mouth.
Slaves shocked—this beast threatened jobs.
Mother, sister-in-law, Se-hwa gaped.
"In fifty years, never seen this. What sorcery?"
"Chobok since my wedding, but scolded endlessly—pooped anywhere, stole food. Foolish. How, brother-in-law?"
"Heard souls reincarnate in beasts sometimes."
Mother nodded, household boss deciding.
"Killing such loyal, clever dog for a meal? Too cruel. Buy elsewhere or chicken soup. But why follow you, never fed leftovers?"
"Loyalty isn’t bought. Even beasts follow gentleman’s way."
I spouted Chobok nonsense—dogshit—then went in. Saved his namesake fate. Worthy show.
Since grasping Sejong’s true nature, tested on animals.
Summary: universal animal trainer.
But no supernatural feats.
Can’t make Chobok recite poetry.
It’s ‘affinity,’ not ‘obedience.’ Requests up to trainable limits.
Wolf cavalry storming Changdeok Palace? Tough.
Would love showing our king Mother Nature’s wrath.
Not my taste anyway, but disappointing: no eavesdropping.
Birds or rats—hearing human speech same. Can’t relay to me. Can’t exceed animal limits.
Audio recorder app for that. Slave intel Seoul branch.
Warhorses, Chobok cooperate as livestock; wild ones ignore.
Rats won’t harm/flee but no control.
Just asked house critters leave. Half did. Hope to Hong Bonghan’s.
Tigers, leopards? Don’t wanna test.
Friends fight sometimes. If they cut me off, I cut the world.
But enough.
Feels more infinite than any skill yet.
Raise overlooked livestock like pigs, improve diets?
No. Pigs grain-hungry. Reasons for unpopularity. Uruguay Round then.
Diet improved—what’s in for me? People elect Chief Councillor?
No pigs in Kim Unhaeng’s Animal Farm. Hate dictators.
Pick livestock I indirectly manage, favored by court.
Crown Prince showed: horses. Warhorses.
Sejong bred hordes for dread legions, but late Joseon privatizes.
Joseon privatization relentless. Military horses mostly civilian then.
Pro breeders boom. Backed by powerbroker.
Powerless big biz? Deadlier than blood in shark pool.
I become that ‘backer.’
Not elite, but block bullying. Bribe unstoppable.
Unique edge: tame beasts on visits, slash stress/deaths, boost efficiency.
Time-intensive, long-term profit.
Scout provincial land first.
Can’t dive in personally. Old scholar suggested more beans for horses—blocked for meddling lowly.
Hire proxy. Lee Jaemun overloaded.
Needs military ties. Rent horses for officer events—profitable. Many in Seoul.
Kim Dojeong, Hun-guk instructor from Songpa via Lee?
Me, Grade 9, playing mid-company commander?
Songpa trainees mere collectors. Useless. Infantry irrelevant.
Peaceful Joseon demands horses for events, vigils.
Central high officers handle those.
Grip them, open rental channels.
Administrative state bans graft? Sharp historical eye.
Yes, banned.
So?