WANTED, DEAD or ALIVE (3)
"Du Lisan has arrived just outside Fengtian. Fifteen men in total, counting his lackeys."
"And our men?"
"I've assembled the toughest bastards in the entire Shengjing Army, not just from our unit."
I nodded and, following Jeom-san's lead, slipped quietly into the building beside the Xinmin Prefecture Guest House, where Du Banlin was lodging.
"Goddamn, what is that smell?"
"Nothing but men in here, I guess. That sour stench is burning my nose."
"Company, attention!"
The men who'd been muttering among themselves all turned their heads at Jeom-san's shout and looked at me.
Hah. Not a single man saluting even with an officer present — typical of an army that's a circus five minutes before inspection.
The headcount was nearly a full platoon. Every last one of them looked like he'd carved up four or five men in his day.
"Some familiar faces, some new ones. Good to see you all. I'm Lee Tae-oh, staff officer of the 5th Battalion, Central Army."
The moment I finished, a man in his thirties rose from among the obvious bruisers and spoke up.
"Tang Yulin, company commander, 1st Company, 1st Regiment, Central Army."
A hulking frame well over 180 centimeters, his face hidden under a full beard everywhere but his jaw, Hindenburg-style — he snapped off a salute with a hand like a bear paw.
"A pleasure, Captain Tang."
"So what's this secret business that's got a room this cramped stuffed with nothing but men for half a day, not a woman in sight? About time somebody told us, no?"
Mm-hm. Let's just forget that very-twentieth-century turn of phrase. This is Manchuria, after all.
- Clap! Clap!
I clapped a couple of times to pull every eye toward me, then spoke again.
"Gentlemen. Today, we take Du Lisan."
"Can't we just shoot him dead?"
"No."
"Then how the hell do we take him?"
What do you think? Is it just that their bodies are too good? What do they keep their brains around for, decoration?
We use our bodies, obviously.
Otherwise I might as well drill a hole in my own head and call it done.
"The Prefect himself has honored us with his presence because we need to lure the man out — and if a stray shot goes off in there, every single one of us dies."
"Damn it all. So in the end, all we can trust is our own two arms?"
Ding ding ding! Correct answer!
I spread a floor plan across the table — the Guest House where Du Banlin was staying, and where Du Lisan would soon arrive.
"The enemy numbers fifteen, including their boss, Du Lisan. Every one of them probably has a pistol stuffed in his trouser pocket right now."
"Maybe out in Yaji, but fifteen lawless men loose in the cramped alleys of Fengtian? That's a disaster waiting to happen. It'd be a battlefield out there."
"Which is exactly why everything must end inside that building. From the stroke of the hour of Zi — eleven at night to one in the morning — we seal the building so that no one, and I mean no one, gets out until it's over."
I tapped the top floor on the blueprint.
"Here's the plan. The battalion commander and the Prefect summon Du Lisan to the seat of honor on the very top floor."
"Why the top floor?"
"Because the space is tight up there."
Nobody in this Manchuria had yet figured out how to raise a building out of concrete and rebar, so the Guest House was, naturally, built of wood.
Which meant it followed the traditional design — each floor shrinking as you climbed, like a triangle.
"The bodyguards he brings won't fit in a space that narrow, so most of them won't make it past the door. They'll end up standing watch outside, and that'll be that."
"And a tight space means less room for him to thrash around. Good."
Tang Yulin nodded, and the bruisers, one by one, started loosening up as if they'd warmed to the idea.
That's it. Let's see them try something, anything they like.
"Boss. Are you really going in? It's not too late even now. If we move now, we can cut our way out together and fall back to Qingmagan, I'm telling you."
"What kind of grown man turns tail without so much as showing his face to the man who invited him? You men keep your eyes on the perimeter and watch for an ambush. The rest I'll handle myself."
"Understood."
With their boss at the center, the bodyguard detail fanned out in an oval, ready to counterattack in an instant no matter where an ambush began.
By the time they dismounted, a young officer was already approaching with a salute.
"A pleasure. I'm Lee Tae-oh, sent by the Prefect to escort you, my lord."
"...Du Lisan."
"This way, please."
With both hands tucked into his trouser band, fingers wrapped around his pistol grip, Du Lisan followed the young officer into the Guest House where the guests of Xinmin Prefecture were said to lodge.
"Whoa."
"What in the world is all this?"
Inside, tables sagged under mountains of meat and fragrant liquor, stacked so high they looked fit to snap their legs off — and then—
"Holy hell, she's gorgeous. She just made eye contact with me."
"You idiot. She was looking at me, not you."
Women. Actual women!
These were men who, until now, had only ever seen females in border villages too poor for cosmetics, let alone rouge — and the sight of Fengtian's gisaeng had flipped their minds clean upside down.
"My, my, and who might this dashing gentleman be?"
"Heh heh. M-me?"
"Who else? Up close, you're actually rather handsome, you know."
"U-utteudaei..."
"This banquet has been prepared by General Shengjing in honor of Lord Du and the bold heroes who follow him. Everyone, eat and drink your fill — no holding back."
The young officer ushered the gisaeng over one by one, keeping them glued to the bodyguard detail, then approached Du Lisan himself.
"My lord, come with me to the very top floor."
"My men come too."
The officer swept a glance around the room and lifted his shoulders in a shrug.
"Well... they all seem to be enjoying themselves already. And the top floor is terribly cramped, so I'm afraid that won't be possible. Instead—"
He drew a revolver from his belt, reversed it, and handed it to Du Lisan.
"Would this put your mind at ease?"
"...Very well. Let's go up."
The young officer led the way up the stairs, and Du Lisan climbed behind him, positioned so that he could yank both pistols free and open fire at any moment.
And then they reached the top floor.
"Father?"
"Risan. My boy. How long has it been — how long?"
Face to face with his father, tears already streaming down, Du Lisan could not bring himself to meet his eyes.
"You would be Du Lisan?"
"...And who might you be?"
"I am called Shen Jinjian, Prefect of Xinmin. A manly countenance — the very picture of a brave general."
At the seat of honor sat a middle-aged man who looked every inch the high official, stroking his beard, and Du Lisan released his pistol just long enough to fold his hands in a formal fist salute.
Behind him, the young officer's eyes — and the eyes of the officer beside the high official — narrowed at the same instant, flashing sharp. But Du Lisan never noticed.
"And the officer beside the Prefect?"
"I'm Zuolin."
Before he could say more, Shen Jinjian cut in.
"A friend of mine, currently serving as commander of the 5th Battalion. When you become a regimental commander, he'll be the man serving under you."
"Is that so?"
"Is that all? A very generous gift is on its way to you as well."
Everything out of the Prefect's mouth sounded like a dream.
A house in downtown Fengtian, so he could move his family in.
Not just a regimental command — formal commissions as soldiers for every one of his men, so he could bring them all in.
Beyond that, wealth, honor, and so on and so forth.
But perhaps it was simply too much, all at once?
Some instinct for survival buried deep in Du Lisan kept prodding him in the back, whispering that something didn't sit right.
"I am deeply grateful for the offer. But first, allow me to return to my camp and speak with my men before deciding..."
"No, Risan, what nonsense is this! An opportunity to bring honor on our family, and you would—"
"Ahem. Well, I understand. Even if you deliberate, I suppose your answer is unlikely to change from yes."
Shen Jinjian gave an embarrassed cough and rose from his seat first.
"The mood is spoiled, so I'll excuse myself. Zuolin will explain the rest."
"Ah — yes."
"Now see here, Lord Du."
For the first time, the officer called Zhang Zuolin, who had stayed silent since the greetings, spoke — and he sounded distinctly displeased.
"I'm an ignorant man. I learned nothing but the Thousand Character Classic, and I've never so much as opened the Four Books and Five Classics. But tell me — is that any way to behave toward the elder who went to the trouble of inviting you here?"
"......"
Had he been born a brute, it might not have stung — but raised in a scholar's household steeped in Confucian learning, Du Lisan felt his face burn hot without meaning to.
He folded his hands respectfully and bowed once more toward the Prefect.
"I beg your pard—"
- Crack.
Before the words even left his mouth, the young officer drove his left fist, then his right, into Du Lisan's jaw and turned his head clean around.
Left, right, hook — his head snapped sideways and his body lost all control.
That's right. You're only an emperor on horseback. What kind of emperor are you standing on two legs, hm?
If not now, no chance would ever come to strip him of his weapons.
I stamped down and drove another punch into his solar plexus.
He crumpled to the floor, gasping, heaving up something from his guts.
"Keh-hak!"
"Risan! Oh, my boy!!"
Du Banlin wailed, but what could I do?
Beating a son in front of his father was, admittedly... not exactly humane. But if I didn't take those pistols, I was the one who'd die.
"Knife!"
"Catch!"
Zhang Zuolin, who had already subdued Du Banlin, hurled his own dagger to me, sheath and all.
I caught it, drew it in one motion, and slit open the trouser leg of Du Lisan, still slumped on the floor.
Two gleaming silver pistols. An ammunition holster like something off a movie cowboy's hip.
Reversing my grip on the dagger, I sliced the holster away outward and flung the whole thing far across the room.
"Y-you son of a—"
"This one's mine, so I'll be taking it back?"
Finally, I fished out the revolver I'd handed him earlier and returned it to my own holster, then raised my fist and administered one more injection of anesthetic to his jaw.
"Kuh."
Mm. The patient has returned to a stable state.
Looks very nice indeed.
- Knock knock.
'Staff Officer, sir. Tang Yulin here. Outside is all sorted.'
Right on cue, Tang Yulin rapped on the door from the hallway.
"This side's done as well."
'Very good indeed. Then I'll have them truss the lot of them up.'
"Any casualties?"
'Hah. I thought I might finally get to stretch my muscles, but those fools drank themselves stupid on the gisaengs you planted on them and dropped off like lamps running out of oil. Didn't even need to break a sweat.'
Opium really is frighteningly effective. I diluted it properly, so there shouldn't be any complications.
What? Only an idiot would fall for such an obvious trick?
That's a thought only people tempered from childhood — like twenty-first-century South Koreans — could afford, what with voice phishing scams, MapleStory scroll fraud, and germanium bracelet hucksters.
And people that sharp — why would they live honest lives instead of turning bandit?
Bandits are fallen power rangers, chaos champions rotted through with every kind of desire, that's what they are.
As I was clamping wooden cuffs onto the unconscious Du Lisan's wrists, Zhang Zuolin came over.
"Good work. With this, even General Shengjing can save face with his successor."
"That little introduction of yours was excellent, sir."
"Didn't the Master himself say it? Chastise the man who relieves himself beside the great road, but leave alone the one who does it right in the middle of the square. Leave it to a sage to find a use for every word."
"What will you do with Du Banlin?"
Zhang Zuolin stepped aside, as if to say see for yourself.
Du Banlin, beaten by his years as much as by anything else, lay utterly spent, tears dripping one by one.
And then—
"Magnificent! The reputation of the Northeast's Liangshan and Wu Yong was no idle boast after all!"
Shen Jinjian, who had been hiding safely in the back room, came bursting out with a beaming grin.
"The only problem left in this Northeast is a handful of Mongolian fools who still think it's the age of Genghis Khan. You've done a tremendous thing! I give you my word — I will not only tell the current General Shengjing, but his successor as well, to make full use of men like you!"
"Thank you, Prefect."
"What should be done with Du Lisan?"
Shen Jinjian looked at me as if the question itself were absurd.
"Hm? Beat him to death, of course. Do you have any idea how much that wretch has disgraced the honor of officialdom until now?"
Um. The man's father is right there in the room, and you can just... say that out loud?
Don't we share the same Confucian heritage here? They were pretty clear in school that this was a Confucian cultural sphere.
I shot Zhang Zuolin a sideways glance.
'Are we killing him?'
'Well, the man's not without talent. If it were up to me, I'd rather spare him and put him to use.'
Typical — the man is hopeless for talent. He'd already run the numbers in his head, of course.
'Still, with the Prefect talking this hard-line, I don't see how we save him. Frankly, I think a firing squad would be simplest.'
No reason to spare the man lying there in nothing but his underwear in front of me, granted — but no pressing need to kill him either.
Had he resisted, fine. But my instinctive revulsion at shooting a man already subdued, plus a twenty-first-century moral compass, nudged me to prod a little.
Just a little poke, nothing more. If it lands wrong, I can always pull it right back out.
"Prefect. Might I be permitted a word?"
"Of course! What reward do you want? Wealth? Women? Or—"
"What would you say to sparing Du Lisan's life?"
"...What did you just say?"
Shen Jinjian's face crumpled.
Hold the line, poke gently, gently only.
"The killing of the murderous bandit Tian Yuben and the capture of Du Lisan will go down as a great deed accomplished by General Zhao Erxun and yourself, Prefect Shen."
"Go on."
"But General Zhao Erxun will soon return to Beijing, and until General Xu Shichang arrives to take up his post, only a short time remains in which you, Prefect, bear responsibility for this Northeast."
Rather than agree or argue, Shen Jinjian gestured for me to continue.
"You hold office high enough that I take you for a Confucian scholar among Confucian scholars. In the old days, did not Confucius himself teach: 'Lead them with virtue and order them with ritual, and the people will not only know shame, but will correct themselves of their own accord'?"
"Continue. Go on."
"Suppose that during your brief stewardship of the Northeast, Du Lisan were so moved by your virtue that he submitted to this government of his own will?"
"...Now there's an opportunity. A chance to leave a deep impression on the new general."
Somewhere along the way, Shen Jinjian had begun stroking his beard, looking immensely satisfied.
"I nearly let a precious opportunity slip through my fingers, boiling over with hatred. Your words have truly opened my eyes."
"You flatter me."
"We won't kill him. We'll thrash him within an inch of his life — just enough to make him obedient."
"Yes, Prefect."
Shen Jinjian nodded in satisfaction, then called to us one last time before stepping out of the room.
"Ah — Battalion Commander Zhang Zuolin. And Lee Tae-oh."
"Yes, Prefect." "Yes, Prefect."
"Your uniforms are dreadfully worn. I'll be sending you new ones before long. You know of the 'New Army' that Premier Yuan Shikai is building in Beijing, do you? As it happens, orders have come down for our Northeast to organize one division under the New Army establishment as well."
"You mean—"
"Zuolin, brigade commander with the rank of colonel, should suit you."
Then he turned his gaze to me.
"And you — is there a post you desire?"
If you want it, I could even send you to Beijing.