Chapter 16
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: You're Eliminated
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Vice Chief Eunuch's office.
Just a day ago, this space had reeked of musty mold and the peculiar stale odor of an old man. But they say when the owner changes, even the air refreshes. Now, it was filled with a subtle musk and the sweet scent of ripe fruit.
Cheonwi lounged atop the hefty ebony desk, legs crossed, gazing out the window at the sprawling Imperial Palace below. The leather shoe dangling from his toe bobbed with surprising cheer.
"Ahh~ Go on, Vice Chief."
A soft, velvety voice accompanied something cool and sweet brushing his lips. It was Sohee. She teased a perfectly peeled grape against his mouth. After an intense campaign of conquest that had fully won her over, she could now read his every intention from a mere glance.
Cheonwi parted his lips and accepted the grape. Its juice burst sweetly across his tongue.
"Delicious. Nothing beats fruit in season."
"Hee-hee, only the finest for you, Vice Chief."
Sohee let out a flirtatious giggle as she kneaded his shoulders. He turned to admire his reflection in the full-length mirror.
The new eunuch robe was custom-tailored. Worlds apart from the drab olive uniforms of old. Jet-black fabric embroidered with vivid red threads radiated authority and allure. The high collar accentuated his neckline, while the cinched belt highlighted his inverted triangle physique.
This wasn't just clothing. It was power made visible.
"Position really shapes a man."
With Chief Eunuch Jo's massive shitshow out of the way, the road ahead lay wide open like a clear highway. The Emperor had granted him full authority, and the Eunuch Bureau was now firmly in his grasp.
But he wasn't popping champagne just yet. Drain the stagnant water, then fill it with fresh, clear flow—that was the way.
Cheonwi tapped the stack of documents on the desk. The list of pre-selected palace maids. Every name screamed provincial, charmless, utterly devoid of spark.
"This won't do. The palace entertainment quality is abysmal."
He sprang to his feet. Sohee's eyes widened in surprise.
"Vice Chief? Where are you off to?"
Cheonwi straightened his robes and flashed a grin.
"Time for a purge. Gotta scout the real talent by my standards."
Training grounds.
Tension hung thick over the vast parade ground in one corner of the Imperial Palace. One hundred aspiring palace maids—pulled from across the provinces or existing ranks—stood in perfect rows and columns.
Curiosity and fear mingled on their faces. The young powerhouse who had rocketed to the top of the Eunuch Bureau overnight was conducting the selections personally. How could they not be on edge?
Cheonwi ascended the platform. A hundred gazes locked onto him. Savoring it, he raised the item in his hand to his lips.
Internal Energy Megaphone.
A prototype blending martial world tech with his own ingenuity—channel internal energy to amplify the voice.
"Ahh, mic test. One, two, three."
His booming voice echoed across the grounds. The aspirants flinched, shoulders hunching.
He smiled in satisfaction, surveying them.
"Welcome. I'm Cheonwi, Vice Chief Eunuch of the Bureau and total producer of this selection project."
They wouldn't grasp "producer," but it didn't matter. Aura was key.
"You've come here to become the Emperor's woman or bring glory to your house. But if you don't catch my eye, you're just rice-wasting parasites."
Cheonwi paused, scanning the crowd. The silence was so heavy he could hear throats gulping.
"Palace duties are grueling. Serving His Majesty at night... no, day and night demands iron stamina. Actions speak louder than words. Everyone—splits. Now."
"Y-Yes...?"
Murmurs of confusion rippled through. Splits? Unheard of in prim palace maid trials.
"Deaf? Spread those legs side to side—until they kiss the ground!"
At his bellow, they scrambled into position.
"Ugh!"
"Aack!"
Cries erupted everywhere. The inflexible trembled in awkward poses; others forced it, only for muscles to seize and collapse them. The grounds turned into a cauldron of agony.
Cheonwi descended, strolling through their ranks. His eyes scanned lower bodies like a hawk.
Not just flexibility. Pelvic lines revealed by the split, thigh firmness, pain endurance—all under judgment.
"You're out."
He mercilessly pointed at one sweating and rigid.
"Pelvis too narrow. Flexibility like this? Can't handle bed... er, duty poses."
"Hic...!"
The eliminated girl tearfully dragged away. Cheonwi eyed the next—a perfect side split, gazing up through gritted pain.
"Hooh."
He feigned admiration, tracing her thigh curve. Taut yet smooth—perfection.
"Excellent. National treasure pelvis. You're in."
"Th-Thank you!"
He weaved through, judgments flying.
"You're out. Thighs too scrawny. No appeal."
"You're in. Ass line's a masterpiece."
"You're out. Sloppy posture. Zero confidence."
Amid screams and cheers, the hundred dwindled to fifty. Physical test over; the grounds panted with ragged breaths.
"Good. Fifty survivors—congrats. But don't celebrate yet."
Back on stage, mic in hand.
"Stamina's the base; voice is your weapon. Serving His Majesty, it must trill like a nightingale or pluck heartstrings. Round two: voice test."
"Ah~ Aang~!"
Eerie sounds reverberated across the grounds.
Aspirants blushed tomato-red, flustered. No wonder—Cheonwi demanded not song or chant, but something else.
"Too quiet! No soul in that voice!"
He swung an imaginary baton, barking.
"When His Majesty hears you amid exhaustion, fatigue must melt away, meridians surging with catharsis! Not just 'ah'! Power from the core—danjeon deep! Again!"
Eyes squeezed shut, they swallowed shame, bellies tensing.
"Haaahng~!"
"Ahhuk~!"
"Eeeng~!"
Fifty voices unleashed in bizarre high-pitched nasal chorus. Less heavenly harmony, more midnight brothel moans.
But Cheonwi was dead serious, ears attuned sternly.
"Yes—row three, number four! Perfect! That nasal twang melts the listener! In!"
"Row five, two—you're out! Voice too muddy! Like a constipated hack! Clear and pure!"
Soldiers passing the walls halted.
"Huh...? Hear that?"
"What the... daytime palace orgy?"
"Just the sound's got me heated..."
Blushing, they eavesdropped. The fifty-voice roundelay fired imaginations.
"Louder! Reach the imperial bedchamber! Infuse emotion! You're at climax... no, sublime vista, gasping in awe!"
Under his fervent lead, voices grew bolder, sultrier. Round two ended: ten survivors.
Sealed chamber.
Final interviews for the ten were intimate. Soundproofed, dimly lit—ideal for baring true nature.
Cheonwi sat at the desk, scanning an applicant's resume.
"Yeonhee... specialty: dance."
"Y-Yes! Vice Chief. Trained since childhood."
Her hands trembled. He tossed the resume down, eyed her.
"Dance, huh. Sick of courtly routines. Show me. No music—make your own rhythm."
"No music...?"
"True dancers pulse in silence. And..."
He pulled a sheer gossamer top from a drawer, tossed it. The see-through number he'd questioned making.
"Wear this and redo it. Gotta see garment flow, body lines in motion."
Yeonhee's pupils quaked.
"This... outfit...?"
"Scared? Out. Line forms outside."
Biting her lip at his icy command, ambition overpowered shame. Trembling, she took it behind the screen.
Moments later.
She emerged. Cheonwi swallowed admiration.
Oh yeah.
The sheer top exposed her torso raw yet mysteriously alluring. Apricot skin glowing through thin fabric—stunning.
Deep breath. She began moving slowly.
No music. But ragged breaths, rustling fabric, footfalls wove rhythm. Blushing yet bold, she undulated hips, extended arms, locking eyes seductively.
Desperation laced the dance, amplifying its eroticism.
Cheonwi propped his chin, engrossed. Ten out of ten. Technique solid, but that predatory glint to survive? Perfect.
"Good. Stop."
Panting, sweat beading over the sheer fabric, she froze.
"Eyes alive. Overflowing talent. In."
"Th-Thank you!"
She prostrated.
"Assigning you to the Eunuch Bureau's 'Special Planning Team.'"
"Sp-Special Planning Team...?"
"Custom joy squad for His Majesty... elite entertainers. Await orders."
Bewildered but ecstatic at passing, she withdrew. Cheonwi circled her resume boldly in red ink.
Thus, true gems emerged from the finals.