The First Revenge (2)
The First Revenge (2)
"You bastards! Do you even know who I am, yet you dare do this?! Stop at once! Get your hands off my belongings!"
There is such a thing as the natural flow of the world. Just as water flows to the lowest place, the principles of all creation are unchanging and follow a set course.
"U-hahahaha! This crazy old man, still spouting nonsense as if the world still belongs to him!"
That a man of power can lord over even a warrior of the martial world is the principle of the world, and being devoured by wild dogs waiting for their chance the moment that power falls away — that is the flow. The moment Venerable Geumbok stepped out from Zhongnan Mountain, the world unleashed its first raging torrent upon his life.
"R-run away!"
"Don't chase the ones running! Grab the money and treasure here first!"
Venerable Geumbok's guards failed to respond properly. They clashed with the Green Forest men bearing blades, tested their skills in a few exchanges of weapons, and the moment they realized this was beyond them, they fled without a word, no one caring who went first.
"Y-you bastards...! Lowly Green Forest thugs...! How dare you!"
Venerable Geumbok poured out his fury. Whenever he let out a single roar, people used to tremble as though struck by inner energy, piss themselves, and beg for their lives. But no matter how desperately the old man seated in the shabby wagon strained and contorted his face, to the armed giants it sounded like nothing more than a joke.
"U-hahahaha! A Green Forest thug? Seems you're mistaken about something. I am no Green Forest thug — I am the Guillotine Blade Iron King, holding the sixtieth seat among the 72 Strongholds of the Green Forest!"
To Venerable Geumbok, the name of the sixtieth seat of the 72 Strongholds of the Green Forest meant nothing at all.
"A man I've never heard of or seen dares lay a hand on someone like me! Withdraw at once!"
"Lay a hand on who? I'm laying hands on the bastard called Venerable Geumbok who got on the bad side of the Zhongnan Sect and got himself kicked out! U-hahaha!"
Of course, the name Venerable Geumbok likewise meant nothing at all to the Guillotine Blade Iron King. The only thing that held meaning for him was the wealth Venerable Geumbok carried with him.
"Don't strip it all. If we do, we'll be next."
He looked like a shaggy brute who knew nothing but using his strength, but unexpectedly, he was a man who knew his limits. He knew that if he plundered too much wealth, those martial artists who prized their dignity would justifiably raid and subjugate his mountain fortress.
So he plundered only as much wealth as they could handle.
"Boys. We've taken enough — let's go!"
Venerable Geumbok trembled with rage, but there was nothing he could do. Some goods still remained, and only a few of his attendants had been killed. The Guillotine Blade Iron King clapped Venerable Geumbok on the shoulder and spoke.
"U-hahaha, thanks for the meal, old man."
"Y-you son of a biiiitch...!"
Venerable Geumbok glared and tried to shout. But Iron King merely sneered at the sight and flashed his weapon.
"Got something to say?"
At that, Venerable Geumbok fell silent. Finding this amusing, Iron King guffawed and said,
"U-hahahaha! The great Venerable Geumbok, once his strings are cut, is no different from a senile old fool! I'm in a good mood! U-hahahaha!"
Ttaenggeurang.
A single silver nyang landed on Venerable Geumbok's thigh.
An indescribable wretchedness surged within Venerable Geumbok's chest.
"Pull back, you bastards!"
At Iron King's command, the Green Forest men swiftly scattered away.
When he looked back, goods still remained on the cart, and about three dead attendants lay sprawled on the ground. The cowards who had been eyeing each other's reactions cautiously pressed close to the cart, and Venerable Geumbok could not hide his complicated expression.
"....Let's go."
But the road ahead was too long to spend lamenting his fate.
The forest was long and the enemies were many.
Venerable Geumbok didn't even have time to mourn the dead.
"We must get out of Shaanxi quickly."
********
"Uwaaak!"
"Aaaak!"
Before Venerable Geumbok could even collect himself, the world poured out its second torrent. No sooner had he thought they'd escaped the Green Forest's territory than masked martial artists appeared. They made no demands, simply swinging their swords out of nowhere and slaughtering his attendants.
They didn't touch the coachman driving the wagon, but the attendants guarding the cart from behind were brutally murdered without even being able to resist.
"Keuaaaak!"
"Aaaaak!"
The only thing Venerable Geumbok could do was lie flat and cover his face. The sounds of blood splattering onto the wagon and the noise of severed limbs being tossed aside rang out starkly.
"P-please spare...! Uwaaaaak!"
"Uwaaaaak!"
The screams wouldn't stop. The masked assailants seemed to chase down and kill even the fleeing attendants. The cries sometimes rang out from a distance, then abruptly echoed from right nearby, over and over. Like unbearable, ceaseless music, the groans stretched on and cut off entirely at random.
"Keuk...!"
The slaughter cut off as abruptly as it had begun. But Venerable Geumbok never raised his face. He merely wrapped his arms around his head and trembled uncontrollably.
He sensed a shadow approaching from beyond the wagon's window. A deep shade fell across the wagon floor that he could see between his knees, and footsteps echoed right beside him. Venerable Geumbok cried out.
"P-please spare me!"
The imperious spirit Venerable Geumbok had once displayed was broken by this second misfortune. In a way, it was behavior more befitting a merchant than anyone. Those who live long know to bend flexibly when it's time to bend. Having spent so long in an excessively elevated position, Venerable Geumbok felt humiliation and fury surge in his chest even as he assumed the natural posture of a supplicant.
"I-I did not see your faces! I have no one to complain to! P-please, spare me!"
Laughter rang out. Half of it was a reaction of disbelief, the other half was laughter of delight. A young martial artist's voice spoke.
"Venerable Geumbok. I had intended to finish you off here, since I never liked how you strutted about with the Zhongnan Sect at your back... but seeing the state you're in now, it seems there's no need. Still, there's no need for heavy baggage on a long journey, so we'll be taking that cart with us."
"T-take it! Take it all!"
Venerable Geumbok hurriedly spoke. The martial artist laughed even more merrily at those words and said,
"Yes, that's how it should be. Do not set foot in Shaanxi again. We will put this wealth to good use in a fine place."
Venerable Geumbok kept his head buried between his knees and shook it frantically.
"Hahahaha...."
The martial artist laughed as if the wind was leaking out of him. Then he swept his hair back, stepped a bit closer to Venerable Geumbok, and said,
"That look suits you well."
"....."
Venerable Geumbok didn't answer. But even his trembling state was a delight to the martial artists.
"Hahahahaha!"
"U-hahahahaha!"
The laughter faded into the distance. Venerable Geumbok didn't raise his head until the laughter had completely died away.
Only after a long while had passed did Venerable Geumbok cautiously ask,
"Are they gone...?"
"....Yes."
The surviving coachman nodded. His voice was mingled with tears. The faint smell of piss rose from somewhere. Venerable Geumbok spoke, his face still deeply buried.
"...Let's go, quickly."
Venerable Geumbok desperately wanted to escape this miserable situation.
*******
"G-get down from the wagon!"
"Aigo! You mustn't do this! We have no money...! U-eok!"
The third torrent arrived in an even pettier form. They were neither martial artists nor Green Forest men — just clumsy bandits who'd thrown flimsy scraps of cloth over their faces, eyes darting nervously. But whether they were amateur criminals made no difference at all.
Because the blades they held were real enough, and as if to prove their resolve, they stabbed the coachman without any preamble.
"Uwaaaaak!"
The potbellied coachman collapsed to the ground, spilling his guts.
Venerable Geumbok looked around with a bewildered expression and said,
"D-do you bastards know who I am! I-I am...!"
A blade flew at his face. The sword halted just in front of his nose, trembling; that rusted, chipped blade loomed all the more terrifying before Venerable Geumbok's eyes.
"Sh-shut up! Get down, quick! Get down, I said! Hand over everything you've got!"
"A-a-alright! I'm getting down!"
They wore not a stitch of upper clothing, their bodies streaming with grime. Even at a single glance, they were men worn down by poverty.
They scanned their surroundings with anxious faces as they seized the horse. Others searched the inside of the wagon. There had been a bit of money not only in the cart but also inside the wagon; when they discovered a coin purse, they grinned through furrowed brows.
"T-take off your clothes too!"
The man, now emboldened, said this as he thrust his sword forward. Venerable Geumbok cowered and said,
"N-no.... M-my clothes...!"
"Take them off! Unless you want to die! Isn't that silk? Hand it over right now!"
When Venerable Geumbok hesitated, the man, unable to wait any longer, forcibly stripped his clothes from him.
"Aigo! Aigo!"
Venerable Geumbok let out pained cries and rolled on the ground.
The sight of the old man in nothing but his undergarments was utterly pitiful.
The bandits looked around, then took the wagon and fled rapidly away.
Did he keep his life because even they were reluctant to kill an old man?
Watching the figures disappear, Venerable Geumbok barely pulled himself together. On the ground, the coachman lay foaming blood, eyes rolled back.
Venerable Geumbok, wearing only his undergarments, trudged toward the village.
Even with the sun still up, a chill ran through him, and his body felt as though a lead weight was pressing down on it.
Wretched.
A wretched sensation, the likes of which he'd never felt in his entire life, swirled around his body.
"Keolluk! Keuu!"
A dry cough escaped him.
********
Night fell.
The temperature dropped, and Venerable Geumbok, in a wretched state that ill-befitted his name, walked the road. It was neither wretchedness nor fury that ruled his heart, but a desperate will to live that drove his body.
His feet were bloody from being pierced by stones and thorns, his face was pale, and his body, shrunken from the cold, showed no sign of straightening out.
"Keolluk.... Keolluk keolluk...."
The coughing continued to leak out. His body wouldn't warm itself, and his vision was so dark he couldn't properly see ahead. Driven solely by the will to survive, he simply walked toward a red glow he saw in the darkness.
"Keolluk..! Keuu...! Eueuk...!"
A campfire came into view. Venerable Geumbok stumbled toward the fire, coughing dryly.
"What? Who's there? What's that bastard doing over there?"
A man, startled by the sound, sprang to his feet and drew his weapon.
Though calling it a weapon was generous — it was a worn-out farming tool, and the man's body was gaunt. His body, reflecting the firelight, was scarred all over, clearly marked by suffering. The house glimpsed beyond was on the verge of collapse. It was a thoroughly destitute household, no matter how you looked at it.
But Venerable Geumbok was in no position to be picky about such things. He spoke while trembling uncontrollably.
"W-water, please...! A-and something to cover myself...."
Right now, Venerable Geumbok was an old man stripped wretchedly bare. He wore a pitiful expression as he trembled. The man hesitated for a moment, then scowled again and said,
"What a goddamn sight."
Venerable Geumbok's body crumpled even from a weak kick.
"U-eok!"
Thrust away, Venerable Geumbok rolled on the ground and let out a pained scream. Hard stones battered his entire body. Venerable Geumbok shouted.
"Wh-what...!"
"Water? The only thing rotting and spilling all over the place is blood, you bastard! Huh? Ever since that fucking sect that licks the asshole of some Venerable Geumbok or whatever rose to power, I don't even have gruel to put in my own mouth! Get the fuck out of here, you crazy bastard!"
Venerable Geumbok, collapsed on the ground, looked around. His eyes, now accustomed to the darkness, illuminated the world. Gaunt people, their eyes gleaming with a fierce light, were casting their gazes upon him.
"Ah...! Ah...! Keolluk...! Keu-eok...!"
The smell of blood rose from his mouth.
Venerable Geumbok, coughing dryly, could not rise from the spot.
He had no strength left even to stand.
"Keolluk.. Keuheuk... Keuheuheuk...! Keueuk...!"
He merely repeated the cycle of coughing, then weeping like a child.
Humiliation, wretchedness, and fury surged within him.
"Keueu...! Keuaaaa...!"
A pitiful scream rang out.
Venerable Geumbok was now nothing — nothing but a naked old man.
He would never rise again.
*******
In the forest a little way from the slum, Docheol asked Sannyeo,
"So, are we killing him?"
Sannyeo spoke with a satisfied expression.
"No, this is enough."
Docheol laughed at those words.
Sannyeo also laughed brightly for the first time in a long while.
Watching Sannyeo, Docheol spoke. His hand was idly spinning a liquor bottle.
"So, any thought of giving a reward to the man who made this first revenge come true?"
Sannyeo shot a sidelong glare at Docheol's question and said,
"There's nothing you won't say to your master, is there?"
"I'm your disciple and your agent of revenge, aren't I?"
Sannyeo stared fixedly at Docheol. She remained silent for a moment, then nodded and said,
"Fine, very well."
And she spoke while gently lifting the hem of her skirt.
"Lie down."
"Keuaaaaaa...!"
In the forest where Venerable Geumbok's screams rose,
Docheol lay down on the grass with a face full of anticipation.