Rise or Remain: The Pung Gaekru Reckoning
Gang Ryong paled at Yi Jinpyeong's unexpected words.
"What? Me... me fight? Not Yeom Dal, but against the Chwi Hwa Bang thugs?"
"That's right. Weren't you the one charging ahead so eagerly because you wanted to test your mettle?"
Gulp! Gang Ryong swallowed hard.
Yes, he had thrown himself forward with enthusiasm. But that was under the assumption that the third young master, Yi Jinpyeong, would smash them all flat like before. He never imagined the young master would tell him to take on monsters like the Chwi Hwa Bang.
Sure, Gang Ryong had earned recognition in Hwang Sabang and risen to the rank of dodu. But that only held weight in the shadowy back alleys of gambling dens. Even after a grueling week of training, what could he possibly do against the Chwi Hwa Bang, a mid-to-upper tier power in the Dongjeong Lake region?
"What's wrong? No confidence?"
Yi Jinpyeong asked as the silence dragged on.
"No, sir."
"Don't lie. There's no strength in your voice."
"I really do! I've got this!"
"No, you don't. If you're not confident, you don't have to fight."
Surprisingly, Yi Jinpyeong didn't press him.
"I'm not forcing you. Your worth is up to you to decide."
"......"
"Right now, I have to take the lead to get things done. But how long can I keep bickering with these no-name bangs and hoes? If we're going to build Yi Gajang into something great, I need someone I can trust and delegate to. It'd be nice if you could fill that role, but it's not easy. You're already set in your ways with age, and plenty of experts will line up to serve under me in the future."
Gang Ryong stared blankly at Yi Jinpyeong.
If earlier he'd just been flustered, now it felt like a blunt club named reality had smashed into the back of his head.
That club was mercilessly pounding his dream—of becoming Yi Jinpyeong's right-hand man and reaching the pinnacle of the world—flattening it into a pathetic mess.
"From the start, I brought you to Yi Gajang because I needed a trusted subordinate right then. Someone loyal, quick on their feet, sharp in many ways—even if a bit rough around the edges. Someone I could use as my hands and feet anytime."
Yi Jinpyeong drained his cup in one go.
Gang Ryong didn't dare twitch a finger.
"Sticking around like that wouldn't be so bad. Running errands by my side, guiding the way, handling odd jobs and menial tasks. If you just want to sit by me, drinking and cracking jokes, that's fine too. Someone has to do it. But tell me—is that really enough for you?"
Yi Jinpyeong held out his empty cup to Gwak Yeonyong. The bucktoothed chief steward swiftly refilled it.
Gang Ryong watched them in silence.
"Look at this bucktoothed kid here. I told you to find me someone smart, and you shoved this guy at me first. So I slapped the temporary chonggwan title on a seventeen-year-old whose blood hadn't even dried. Honestly, no big thought behind it—just a casual remark to get some work done. But then this guy starts racking his brains, showing off all sorts of skills. And it's not just showing off. He digs up unsaid tasks, pressuring me without a word. Use me. Rely on me. Give me bigger jobs... like that. Gwak chonggwan. Have a drink."
"Yes, sir."
"Gang Ryong, listen well. Did I just call him temporary chonggwan? Or just chonggwan? What about you? Sure, I gave you the dodu title for Yi Gajang, but have I been using you like my blade? Or just like some lowly errand boy?"
Gang Ryong was speechless. A dizzying vertigo swept over him. The whole world spun.
And in that moment, as a thunderous thud-thud-thud echoed through the tavern—
—the door to their drinking room burst open.
It was Pung Gaekru's owner, Yeom Dal.
***
Yeom Dal was drenched in sweat from sprinting over. His face twisted viciously as he scanned the room.
He remembered the bucktoothed chonggwan who'd visited him days ago.
"I knew it! What Chwi Hwa Bang bullshit!"
The goateed chief steward wore a look of dismay.
Yi Jinpyeong glanced back and forth between Yeom Dal and the steward, then burst into booming laughter.
"One looks like a rat pup, the other like a goat! How do you two have such similar faces? I don't judge by looks much, but you two are textbook villains!"
"You bastard! Do you know where you are? This is a high-class place, serving only the noblest guests!"
"I know. I know well. But you pay your debts, and then I can buy nice clothes, drink fancy liquor like this in style. What's the point if only you live it up? We gotta prosper together."
"Prosper together my ass... You dare impersonate Chwi Hwa Bang?"
"Impersonate? Come sit first. Let's talk over a drink."
Yi Jinpyeong casually pointed to an empty seat.
Yeom Dal glared into his eyes for a moment, then spotted the lavish spread of dishes and pricey liquors. He bit his lip hard.
Turning, he unleashed a barrage of slaps on the goateed steward's cheek—each one echoing sharply down the hall.
"What? 'Noble young masters for sure'? How can I trust the shop to you with work like this?!"
The remaining guests and courtesans peeked out into the hall to gawk, only to be herded downstairs by Yeom Dal's warriors.
Now, the entire third floor held only them.
Moments later, Yeom Dal returned, wiping bloodied hands. He flopped down, poured himself a cup, and chugged it.
"Brat. Try spouting off once more. Make it your last words."
Last words.
Yi Jinpyeong laughed heartily. Did this fool know what happened after his last words?
"For a mere tavern owner, you sure put on airs. Read too many third-rate wuxia novels? Learned that from Chwi Hwa Bang goons?"
"You're that third brat, huh? Don't recognize you without the beggar rags. Heard you stirred things up at the Dongho merchant guild. Your lost martial arts suddenly revived?"
"Ho. You know about that?"
"Of course. Run a tavern long enough, you hear everything."
Yeom Dal pointed at the bucktoothed Gwak chonggwan.
"I know Hwang Sabang's leader Seo Dongrip vanished overnight, the whole gang turning to dust. And this fool shows up babbling about Hwang Sabang debts to Yi Gajang. Ridiculous."
"But you don't deny owing the debt?"
"Hmph. It wasn't debt—it was support. What debt now? And do you know how expensive the booze you've guzzled? Fools. All for a few seok of rice?"
Debt-dodgers always spun similar tales.
Yi Jinpyeong smiled contentedly and rapped the table.
"You don't deny receiving rice support, and you even specify ten seok yourself. Gwak chonggwan. Note it down well."
"Duly recorded, sir."
"And Yeom Dal. Retract that impersonation bit."
Yeom Dal's brows furrowed.
"What nonsense?"
"We said we were your investors."
Yeom Dal still looked baffled. Deciding talk was pointless, he subtly signaled his waiting warriors outside.
They ripped open the sliding doors, exposing the third floor.
Dozens of armed men glared murderously at them—with Yi Jinpyeong lounging half-reclined in the seat of honor, the bucktoothed youth sitting ramrod straight, and the hairy brute staring vacantly into space.
"Quite the crowd. Chwi Hwa Bang reinforcements?"
Yeom Dal crowed triumphantly.
"Choose: Pay up for the drinks, food, and the trouble you've caused this body—and go home safe. Or lose limbs first."
"Oh ho?"
"If you'd just come nagging, I might've let it slide. But disrupting business and impersonating Chwi Hwa Bang? No choice. You started this over rice—don't blame me."
"It's not about a few seok of rice. Gwak chonggwan. Explain it so he gets it."
"Yes, sir."
The bucktoothed Gwak chonggwan bowed his head, then straightened and bellowed—his voice booming not just across the open third floor, but throughout the tavern.
"Three years ago, Pung Gaekru owner Yeom Dal borrowed ten seok of rice from Yi Gajang, claiming crisis: family starving, unable to pay staff wages. But instead of wages, he invested it to grow his assets. He just admitted no loan—so Yi Gajang's aid was clearly an investment in Pung Gaekru, not a debt."
"What the hell?!"
Yeom Dal flailed his arms in panic.
True, he'd used family and staff as excuses to beg Yi Gajang. It was the perfect ploy to soften the Yi brothers and empty their granary, per the rumors.
But staff knew nothing of that pretext. And this loan-to-investment twist—what twisted logic was this?
"Thus, Yi Gajang isn't a creditor, but an early investor. Pung Gaekru thrived, expanded, even plans branches. Excluding Chwi Hwa Bang's late stake, Yi Gajang holds roughly half this main branch."
"No, what bullshit is this?!"
Yeom Dal roared, and Yi Jinpyeong clapped loudly.
"Impressive. So logical! Never heard such rational, capitalistic reasoning. Gwak chonggwan—studied in Beijing? Or from some distant future?"
"You're too kind, sir."
"Yeom Dal. Your thoughts? Per Gwak chonggwan's math, half this place is ours. Slice it horizontal? Vertical?"
"You mad bastards!"
Yeom Dal shot up, flipping the table. Liquor and dishes flew.
That was the signal. The warriors charged.
Negotiations had broken down.