368. Invisible Turbulence (8)
The heavy atmosphere from the early part of the evening seemed to vanish with the scent of alcohol, and the academy students gathered at Songhua Pavilion began downing drinks with raucous abandon. As time passed, the mood grew ever more heated. Someone would belt out a song and others would join in; a joke tossed out would be fired right back.
My prediction that the gathering would drag on longer than expected proved spot on. I'd figured they'd offer condolences, wallow in grief, then trudge home exhausted, shoulders slumped.
"Kahahaha! More booze here! Bring the best stuff!"
"Heard Tae-eul Gate's merchant group is killing it these days? Bring out all the side dishes you've got!"
These damn bastards were going at it like it was their last meal, tearing into food and drink like madmen.
Fuck...
And as time wore on, the energy only ramped up. People who'd been sitting by sect or affiliation started mingling freely. Someone from the Twelve Peaks shared a drink with a Jeongdohoe member. A Baekdohoe guy pranked one of the Twelve Peaks crew.
"These guys... why are they so chummy all of a sudden?"
The unfamiliar vibe had me glancing at Eunho, who was sitting beside me.
"It happens sometimes—units gathering by division within the academy."
"Huh?"
What the hell was that supposed to mean? His answer made zero sense.
I was about to press him when—
"Fifth Captain!!"
Wi Ripgun and Jong Chuoak grabbed Eunho by the sides and hoisted him up.
"Wha—?! What're you doing here now that you're a captain? This is dereliction of duty! Your squad's waiting!"
What... the actual fuck?
"Come on, let's go!"
"Charge!!"
Under their boisterous prodding, Eunho dangled helplessly in midair and shook his head with a resigned look.
"Guess I have to go. Drink lightly, Big Brother."
"..."
I couldn't tell if he was being dragged off or going willingly... but Eunho was gone.
Geum Pyo, Dongryong, Moyong Jaehwa, and Eunseollan followed suit, leaving just a few at my table.
Not that it was a bad thing.
"Looks like we can finally have a quiet chat among ourselves after so long."
With the kids around, it was hard to dive deep with folks like Namgung Seonhwa or Seong Moran...
"And what makes you think I'll stick around?"
...What now?
Namgung Seonhwa, always so sweet and accommodating—even putting up with Dang Seohee's antics—was glaring at me with a chilling gaze.
"Uh, did I do something wrong?"
At my question, she suddenly started fumbling.
"...W-Well, 'wrong' might be too strong... but I can't say it's nothing either..."
"If you tell me what it is, I'll fix it..."
"A-Anyway! Don't assume I'll always be by your side, Jin Gongja! Got it?!"
Her face hardened back to icy resolve. She shot up from her seat with a clatter and headed off toward her squad calling for her.
Now my head was starting to throb.
"Lady Seong... did I...?"
"I'm disappointed."
"Pardon? In what?"
"..."
Seong Moran bolted without finishing her sentence.
I mean, I get that I don't understand women, but this was ridiculous, right?
I turned to Saryeon...
"Big Brother... Didn't I teach you to always watch your conduct?"
"...So what conduct exactly?"
"You've got some."
Even Saryeon said that much before jumping up and leaving.
"No, seriously, what the hell...?"
No one left to explain it to me.
Looking around, the academy students had clustered by Sahwal-dan units. Maybe the booze had loosened their tongues, but their voices were booming—debate spilling over whether I wanted to hear it or not.
Curious what was so riveting, I tuned in...
...and it was a heated argument over whose captain was the bigger idiot—yours or ours.
The mood was dead serious. They looked ready to draw swords any second.
I needed to step in...
"Hold up... hold up... This ain't resolving shit anyway, so... yeah! Let's call it: the captains are idiots!"
Fuck, I'd just been sitting there quietly, and some dumbass tried mediating with that nonsense logic.
Anyone blurting something that stupid in a group gets pummeled. As I was about to pray for the guy's soul...
"Ohooo!!"
The tension shattered, agreement rippling through the crowd.
"Nice!"
"Agreed!"
"Solid conclusion!"
"You're a genius!!"
What the shit? They were messing with me?
"..."
A scuffle even broke out among the Fifth Squad guys. Muadangpa and Moyong sega moves synced perfectly with Jukhyeonbang strikes. Had the Fourth Squad under Gwak Susan gelled that well even after Mukrim?
Noisy as hell.
Since my internal energy rose and senses sharpened, I'd been dampening them in daily life to avoid hassle. But on a day like today, overdoing the booze, the block wasn't holding—every sound grated.
Hoo...
Not just the students' chatter—the first and second floors, even upstairs talk filtered in, making the place feel stifling.
Time for some air. Heading to the back garden, students started hailing me one by one.
"Captain, where you off to?"
"Getting some breeze."
"Not having fun?"
"Told you, air. Idiot."
"What breeze? Come here. Have a drink."
Fair point—standing alone looking glum would be lame. Feigning reluctance, I turned toward them when I caught a whisper. Loud whisper.
"Hey! Captain shows up, it kills the vibe—why hold him? Just let him go...!"
"Oh, that's why we didn't call him?"
"Yeah! Our real enemy's not the boss!"
Fuck, no wonder my area's empty. They were icing me out?
Why? I'm not an asshole. Hell, I'm buying rounds like a champ. What superior does that? And I'm not even their real boss.
Damn it.
I shook my head—not wanting to see the guy who'd suggested a drink squirm.
"Nah. I'll grab air and come back. Stay sharp."
"Heh heh. Safe trip. Get 'em drunker—they won't know boss from bro then."
I left his cheeky grin behind and headed to the garden.
Songhua Pavilion's claim to fame was its massive tavern paired with the sprawling backyard garden. Drinking inside was pricey, but the pavilions dotted through it? Multiples more. Still, the pond-lined walkway was distant enough—no restrictions for a casual stroll and gawk.
Passing drunks sprawled on the ground, I reached the garden's depths—a serene pocket.
Watching fish glide in the pond and stars twinkle overhead eased my cluttered mind a bit.
But not fully. Pavilions still teemed with boozers, distance be damned.
"...Aah, not here...!"
"...Told the merchant group ahead—they'll pick us for sure..."
"I'll get revenge... for abandoning me..."
I could've purged the alcohol and sealed my senses, but nah. Planned to drink more inside anyway.
Ignoring the noise, I counted twinkling stars.
"Sect Leader."
A voice I couldn't ignore.
"Heard Geum Taekjong from the academy was named a war hero."
It came from the garden's endmost, most secluded pavilion. My gaze drifted there unbidden.
Dim lantern light framed three or four men in flashy robes, a worn martial uniform among them quietly passing a cup.
"Hesitant to say it, but congratulations."
The uniformed man savored the aroma before sipping slowly. Setting it down, a faint smile curved his lips.
"Thanks. Never dreamed it'd turn out like this."
Song Jusaeng's words drew smiles from the others.
"Heard the compensation for bereaved families is hefty."
"Had to be, with instructors showing such incompetence."
"It'll go to the sect, right?"
Song Jusaeng refilled his cup, pondering briefly before looking up.
"Geum Taekjong treated Il Hagmun like home. We saw him as a son. He'll surely see us as more family than blood."
The robed men exchanged loaded glances.
"But compensation? Who cares? The real prize is elsewhere. When selecting the 108 Peaks, I'd appreciate your support."
"Hm... Cheonmogak's still dragging its feet, no? Everyone knows they crave a spot too."
"That'll resolve soon."
"Resolve how?"
"One of our sect disciples died. In today's Murim, what's stronger than a bereaved academy family's grief?"
"Heh, a blessing in disguise."
"Exactly. Blessing in disguise... haha!"
His faded uniform stood out more than their silks—washed so much the color was gone.
Haa...
My boiling chest went ice cold.
Rush in and cripple Song Jusaeng now—would that soothe me? Or hand him another pretext?
A man exploiting his disciple's death wouldn't hesitate with his own injury.
I halted the swirling thoughts.
Whatever. No action brings Geum Taekjong back.
But.
I can't stomach watching scum who exploit the dead live fat and happy.
Whoosh—
My uniform billowed fiercely.
The acrid booze stench tickled my nose.
Once purged, my head cleared sharp.
No regrets on the drinks. No more tonight.
I slipped out of Songhua Pavilion straight to the Murim Alliance.
#
"...Gah!"
Maeng Ju-won jolted awake from his desk nap, scrambling up. Realizing he'd dozed, he checked his papers anxiously—hoping no drool damage.
"Phew... safe..."
Sichuan barely wrapped, now Mukrim blew up—scattering Mantongbu staff everywhere. Cheonmogak had dragged back deserters mid-mission. He'd even calmed hysterics threatening reports to Inspection and Execution Halls with, "That'd just pile on more work, right?"
They were at breaking point.
One hope: Murim Academy graduation looming. Jegal Somyeong said four or so recruits worth bringing in...
His sole lifeline for the department.
"Jin Sowoon's work-ready on arrival; have him train the rest..."
A grin crept unbidden. Just hold on a bit longer. This hellish Mantongbu grind would ease.
Jin Sowoon and his cohort would get shredded... but hey, youth thrives on suffering, right?
Self-brainwashing complete, he grabbed the next file.
"Hm? What's this?"
Tucked in the stack: two unfamiliar docs.
One, a plan for compensating academy students' bereaved families directly—bypassing sects to avoid losses. Neatly outlined.
This way, proper payouts without sect skim.
The other: Cheonmogak intel. Despite Murim Alliance bans on framing dead students' sects for sorcery, some were stirring trouble.
"Il Hagmun, huh..."
Come to think: during Sichuan, they'd acted shady too. Went quiet after the Alliance Lord's decree... now stirring again?
Eyeing both, Maeng Ju-won felt an odd unease, tilting his head.
"Intel's one thing... but when was this compensation plan filed?"
He'd mulled similar ideas forever, so it resonated. Problem: no memory of drafting it.
Hm...
Scrutinizing again: flawless issue-spotting and solutions. Only a Mantongbu vet could craft this.
After thorough review...
"Ah!"
Enlightenment hit with a gasp.
"I... I made it."
Perfect docs even in sleep? Maeng Ju-won marveled at his prowess anew.
"Proceed as is."
Section chief stamp, quick processing.
"Ugh... who drank on duty?"
Faint office booze scent wrinkled his nose, but he shrugged it off.
"Fair. Workload's beyond sober limits anyway. Maybe I should join?"
Dozens of files loomed. Untackleable sans booze.
#
By the time I'd whipped up docs and swung by Mantongbu...
...dawn was breaking.
Stars still plenty, but the lightening sky stirred strange sentiments.
"Of all times, this view."
Maybe my actions weren't what Geum Taekjong wanted. He might've truly seen Il Hagmun as family, wished their rise above all.
But.
Crunch—
My grip tightened instinctively.
Il Hagmun's leader cheapened his death. Blinded by greed, discarded disciple dignity.
Even if Geum Taekjong prioritized sect revival, I couldn't overlook it.
Endless deaths might one day numb me to life's weight—but not yet. Shouldn't start now.
Passing other pavilions from Mantongbu...
Squirm—
A small lump in the training yard corner. Thinking wild animal, I approached—and sighed softly.
"..."
It was a huddled Geum Taeseon.
Dirtier than days ago, his clothes' colors fully faded.
Sensing me, he rubbed his eyes awake.
"...Uncle?"
"What're you doing here?"
Tear streaks stood out amid the grime on his face.
"..."
Still pouty as our last meet.
"Mom says no playing with big bro. But he promised..."
"..."
"Everyone sucks! Mom, Dad, Sect Leader Uncle! Big bro always keeps promises, but they all say he won't..."
Easier to paint him bad than deliver death news? For fading memories, small letdown over gaping loss seemed kinder.
I stroked his head gently.
"...I see."
"Everyone sucks. No one keeps promises! Warrior Uncle sucks too! Didn't find big bro like promised."
But I chose cowardice like them. Deep scars linger on kids even as time heals adults.
Conveniently, I had Dang Seohee's fave red tanghulu in my pouch.
"Want some candy?"
"...No!"
He whipped away—gurgle from his back.
"Tasty stuff. Some... little kid I know loves it."
"..."
Geum Taeseon hesitated, then turned slowly, taking one. Nibbling commenced.
"Good?"
"...No! Tastes bad."
Setting it down to prove a point, but soon lured back by flavor.
"Eat up."
"...All of it?"
"Yeah."
"...For real?"
"Yep."
Still pouting, he chomped a huge bite.
"You'll keep this promise, right?"
"...Yeah."
Dried tear tracks gleamed clearer in rising dawn.
Stroking his head as he counted aloud repeatedly—'one, two, three...' like memorizing.
"No need to count."
"...Over ten?"
"This big bro sucks at lots, but memory's my thing. Eat without worry."
Geum Taeseon, cheeks faintly flushed—maybe bashful—gazed at the dawn.
For him, today's candy and grief will fade in time. As adults hoped: hazy memories, new joys ahead.
Yeah. It'll be fine.
"I'll remember."
The count, his sorrow, Geum Taekjong's death.
With my unforgetting memory, I'll hold it all.
This day's grief, past deaths—all mine to bear.
Even if they crush and bury me like past life.
Forgetting not today's rage and grief.
Clutching these memories and pains forever.
I will have vengeance.
"This promise... I'll keep it."
I repeated the indelible vow to silent Geum Taeseon, again and again.