Chapter 31
Chapter 31
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Time to Grab the Stick (3)
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After midnight, when Sima Geon and Cheol Woo slipped out of the house, a bright full moon hung high in the central heavens.
The moonlight was so unusually brilliant that it lit up the surrounding objects as clear as day.
"Chief, it's a perfect night for the job."
Cheol Woo chuckled, shaking his shoulders.
"Don't people usually say the opposite? The moon's so damn bright."
"That's just for worthless punks. I like it when it's softly lit like this."
"Too bright to call it soft."
He chided him, but Sima Geon's expression wasn't bad at all.
It was so late that not even an ant stirred around. Still, just in case of prying eyes, they steered clear of the main road.
A short while later, the two arrived at the former base of the Concord Society, which had been crushed by the Blood Robe Gang.
The Blood Robe Gang, who had toppled the Concord Society, were now using it as their own hideout.
"Ha! Look at 'em imitating a proper martial sect."
Cheol Woo pointed at the two men guarding the main gate and laughed.
"What do we do?"
"Leave 'em be. Let's handle this quietly."
Sima Geon made a face like he couldn't care less and moved to the wall a short distance from the main gate.
In a single bound, Sima Geon and Cheol Woo vaulted the wall and headed straight for the grandest, most ornate hall.
"With those guys guarding it, it's gotta be in there."
Cheol Woo pointed at the men pacing restlessly in front of the hall.
"Doesn't the death of a few men a couple days ago bother them at all?"
"If they gave a damn about that, they never would've taken this place to begin with."
Sima Geon scooped up three pebbles, then casually swung his arm as he advanced slowly.
The stones whistled lowly through the air and silently put down the men prowling the area.
"Just in case, drag 'em off."
At Sima Geon's words, Cheol Woo tucked the fallen men under his arms and roughly dumped them amid the bushes beside the hall.
Stepping inside the hall, Sima Geon let out a hollow chuckle at the sight of the Blood Robe Gang's boss, Mak So-dong, dead to the world in a drunken stupor.
On the bed, Mak So-dong wasn't alone—two women of striking beauty were tangled up with him at a glance.
"Ha! Living like some emperor, no envy needed."
Cheol Woo, catching up late, sneered at the women sleeping beside him. Then, the moment Sima Geon struck their pressure points with a palm wind, he leaped onto the bed and stomped down on Mak So-dong's manhood.
"Gaaahhhh!"
Mak So-dong's upper body shot up like lightning amid a scream beyond words.
"You savage! No matter how jealous, that spot..."
The instant Cheol Woo hopped onto the bed, Sima Geon—who had sealed off all sound waves in the room—shuddered despite himself at the scream.
"Just a little off-target, Chief."
Feigning innocence, Cheol Woo yanked Mak So-dong by the hair and dragged him off the bed.
Pulled along like a dog and collapsing to the floor at the bed's edge, Mak So-dong still couldn't regain his wits amid the agony radiating from below his gut.
"Shut your damn mouth. Or I might make sure you never use it again."
Terrified by Cheol Woo's warning, Mak So-dong desperately clamped both palms over his mouth to stifle the groans bursting out.
Giving him a brief moment to swallow the pain, Sima Geon hurled a question the instant Mak So-dong's beet-red face began to recover color.
"You the head of the Blood Robe Gang?"
"Y-yes, sir."
Mak So-dong flattened himself prone and bowed his head.
Even through the killing pain, he'd sized up the situation—and he perfectly read the savagery in Cheol Woo's eyes. His climb from the gutters to this seat had come thanks to his heaven-sent knack for sensing danger on instinct.
And that talent, that instinct, was screaming bloody murder right now.
"Looks like we found the right spot. Any idea why we're here?"
"N-no, sir."
"Smart guy."
Cheol Woo, who'd been sipping tea from the bedside table, chucked the cup he'd been holding.
The cup sailed lazily toward his head, but Mak So-dong didn't dare even think of dodging.
Sima Geon flicked a finger, and the cup shattered into fragments just shy of grazing Mak So-dong's forehead, scattering harmlessly.
"Cut the games."
Snapping irritably at Cheol Woo, Sima Geon addressed the wide-eyed Mak So-dong in the gentlest tone he could muster.
"First off, I couldn't care less about the Blood Robe Gang or the Concord Society. No plans to threaten your spot either."
Mak So-dong, who'd been steeling himself for the worst, let out a sigh of relief. The grim, rigid mask on his face even softened a touch.
"I just wanna live quietly. Dream of the same peaceful daily life as anyone else. But crap keeps messing with my peace."
No sooner had Sima Geon finished than Mak So-dong slammed his forehead into the floor.
"Just say the word, and I'll handle it right away."
"Good. Then I'll speak freely. You've been shaking down the market district for protection money lately, right?"
"Pardon?"
Caught utterly off-guard, Mak So-dong lifted his head with a blank stare.
"Protection money."
Sima Geon's voice turned icy, and Mak So-dong nodded frantically.
"Ah! Y-yes, we have, but..."
"Not telling you to quit cold turkey, so keep it reasonable. Just like the old Concord Society rates—no big deal."
Sima Geon spoke soothingly, but Mak So-dong couldn't answer easily.
"Th-that's..."
Cheol Woo, leaning against the wall with arms crossed, drew the sword hanging there and strode over to Mak So-dong.
"Why? Too tough? Want me to make it simple?"
"N-no, that's not it."
In terror of his head rolling any second, Mak So-dong shook his head like mad.
"Then just do what the Chief says. Or end up like this."
Cheol Woo pinched the blade between his fingers.
Clang!
A sharp metallic ring echoed as the broken blade tip dropped right in front of Mak So-dong's knee.
Mak So-dong's jaw dropped.
A sword forged of steel, honed to perfection—snapped like a twig between mere fingers.
"I wanna do exactly as you say, but that's not for me to decide."
"What bullshit! Aren't you the head of the Blood Robe Gang?"
Cheol Woo's face twisted into a menacing glare, as if he'd swing the sword that instant.
"Y-yes, that's true. But I can't call every shot."
Sima Geon had a hunch watching Mak So-dong squirm.
"Must be the Plum Sword Society, huh."
"Plum Sword? Oh, those guys from Namgyeong. Aren't they long gone from Soho? Roaming around reeking of foul vibes for days, then poof. Wait, they weren't Plum Sword, were they. Heh heh heh!"
Mak So-dong's pupils quaked violently under Cheol Woo's stare.
Everyone in the know understood the Plum Sword Society backed the Blood Robe Gang. But the existence of the Hidden Dragon Squad? That was privy to a tiny few.
'They even know about the Hidden Dragon Squad.'
Mak So-dong confirmed they knew not just of the squad's existence, but that it had moved in secret to hunt their comrades' killers. Goosebumps erupted across his skin.
'It's them. The monsters the Hidden Dragon Squad was after.'
The freaks who'd one-shotted even those inhuman squad members.
As Mak So-dong froze too scared to breathe, Sima Geon asked.
"Any Plum Sword guys still hanging around here? Looked like they pulled out two days back."
"Right, all withdrew. It's just the monthly tribute we gotta cough up..."
"Cut it back some."
"Pardon?"
"Not the tribute—mess with that and heads roll, headaches for me. Trim the Blood Robe Gang's cut instead. Squeeze just a tad more than the old protection fees. Enough merchants won't gripe. Plenty to get by on."
"B-but..."
As Mak So-dong faltered, Cheol Woo reached out and lightly stroked his head.
"Don't wanna? Fine, croak here then. Tons of guys to replace you."
"No! I'll do it! Yes, just like that!"
Mak So-dong bellowed as if his life depended on it, terrified he'd squeeze harder.
"Smart pick. Was about to bash that scheming rat brain till you couldn't think straight."
Cheol Woo patted his head a couple times, stepped back, then whipped around to Sima Geon.
"Chief, gotta collect that overdue meat tab too."
"Naturally."
Sima Geon nodded, and Cheol Woo shoved his face right up to the baffled Mak So-dong.
"Threw a feast the other day, didn't ya?"
"Yes."
"Burned through a heap of meat."
"Y-yes."
"Gobbled it up like kings—time to pay up proper. Why try to welsh?"
"......"
Mak So-dong was speechless.
A boss like him had no reason to sweat the small stuff, so naturally he was clueless.
Sima Geon's sweeping gaze through the room halted on a painting hung on the wall.
Mak So-dong's eyes followed, shaking fiercely.
"Oh ho! Will you look at that."
Cheol Woo, who'd been eyeing Mak So-dong, whooped in delight and tore the painting down without a second thought.
With the painting gone, a single string protruded crookedly from the wall's center.
Cheol Woo savored Mak So-dong's mounting dread at leisure before tugging the string. The wall parted, revealing an iron door secured with a padlock.
Cheol Woo whistled as he gripped the lock.
Mak So-dong squeezed his eyes shut watching the custom-ordered lock crumble like dead leaves.
The iron door swung open to reveal a small secret chamber.
Ebony display shelves lined three walls—two empty, but the one on the left brimmed with the Blood Robe Gang's (or rather, the Concord Society's) hoarded wealth.
Cheol Woo roughly scanned the treasures inside and was floored.
"You insane fucks! Hoard all this and still jack up protection fees?"
"Whatever. We just grab our share."
Dismissing Cheol Woo with a wave, Sima Geon scooped up a few gold notes from the shelf.
"This covers the meat."
Mak So-dong's eyes flickered wildly.
'Wh-what meat bill...'
Sima Geon grabbed a few more gold notes.
"And this is the interest accrued."
"......"
"Chief, snag some medical fees too. Came for cash, got thrashed—how unfair is that."
Sima Geon made an 'oh right' face at Cheol Woo's words and picked up a few more gold notes.
"Hear that? Getting beat collecting debts is bullshit. Anyway, this is for medical."
Satisfied after pocketing ten gold notes, Sima Geon stepped back. Cheol Woo then hauled Mak So-dong into the chamber.
"Toss in your life fee too."
"Pardon?"
"We're sparing your worthless hide. What's it worth?"
Finally getting it, Mak So-dong choked back vomit surging up his throat and reached shakily for the gold notes.
As he tremblingly clutched them, Cheol Woo added one more line.
"Your call. Shortchange us, and I'll lop off limbs one by one."
His hand, pausing at five, jerked onward—and when he'd matched Sima Geon's take, Cheol Woo flashed a grin and bellowed a laugh.
"Now that's a guy with potential. Knows the value of his neck. Hahaha!"
Sima Geon and Cheol Woo emerged from the secret room and turned away without a backward glance, no attachment left.
Mak So-dong, who'd just lost a third of the Concord Society loot to the Plum Sword Society—plus most of the prime gold notes from what remained—sat there in a daze.
[Keep your mouth shut nice and quiet. You'll stay breathing. But if today's business ever leaks...]
Before the transmission even faded, something grazed past Mak So-dong's ear. He flinched and whipped around.
A single leaf fluttered, deeply embedded in the secret chamber's iron door.
Mak So-dong swore to the heavens he'd never breathe a word of this day.
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