The Downward Slope
The Third Young Master's rest chamber.
Even under ordinary circumstances, the Third Young Master's faction counted a great many elders among its ranks. Now that the Central Audit Department had driven every last one of them into the same rest chamber at once, the room was packed to bursting.
Ordinarily, that many men crammed into so confined a space would have filled it with the noise of arguments and contests of presence. Not so now. There was only the low murmur of small clusters whispering among themselves, and the men who sat planted in their chairs, lips moving soundlessly as they thickened the haze of smoke already hanging from the ceiling.
That same heavy atmosphere clung to the senior figures occupying the center of the room. But if there was one decisive difference—
"This evidence the Central Audit Department claims to have newly secured…"
"…Should we not send someone at once to verify it?"
Even trapped inside a sealed death-gate, that obsessive tenacity—that refusal to stop searching for a living path until the very last breath. That was the terrifying quality of a seasoned politician.
"Indeed."
"If we are going to send someone, let us not dispatch some half-competent elder at random."
"Better to send an elder with a firm footing in legal affairs, or in audit work."
Even those seated along the outer edges of the rest chamber began to rise and drift, one by one, toward the center.
"Right. Only then can we drive straight into any crack the moment we find one—and shatter the evidence entirely."
"Whether it is some trivial procedural irregularity or a challenge to the informant's credibility—we hang every charge we can on it—"
It was forced, yes. But for a moment, their fighting spirit had begun to return.
"It will be useless."
The voice that cut the discussion short belonged to the man seated at the very center—a man whose heavy presence filled the space, and who until now had done nothing but watch the situation unfold.
"…Useless, you say?"
He revealed a hard, stubborn jawline and, slowly but without the slightest hesitation, nodded.
"That is so. Going will accomplish nothing."
"You are all far too optimistic about our circumstances."
The words snuffed out, in a single breath, the fighting spirit they had been straining to rekindle. Yet none among them dared show open resentment.
"…Elder Namgung."
"Then what, exactly, is it you wish to say?"
Elder Namgung. As the name alone made plain, he was kin by marriage to the Third Young Master, Yeon Jeok-gwang, and of the Namgung Clan's direct bloodline. That massive old man was the head of their faction—the leader of the Third Young Master's party.
"That Eldest Young Master of ours."
Unmoved by the weight of every gaze fixed upon him, he lifted his cup, slowly savoring its fragrance as he continued.
"Do you truly expect he would leave so crude a hole for us to exploit?"
It was the very point they had all been carefully refusing to face, dragged into the open by Elder Namgung's question. Unlike before, a complete silence now settled over the broad, luxurious rest chamber.
"This affair began with the Eldest Young Master's surprise assault. That everything has moved upon the board he laid, and that all of us have danced to his tune, is simply the way of it."
Like a true commander of men, he drew the line cleanly—and with crushing weight.
"This round is our defeat."
There was no longer any need to wait and watch for the conclusion. The boulder the Eldest Young Master had set rolling had already thundered unchecked down the slope. That falling stone had become a landslide.
"Next time, things will neither begin this way—nor end this way."
He set his cup down with a sharp tak, rose from his seat, and left the rest chamber without a shred of lingering attachment.
In the space left empty by the elders who could be called Elder Namgung's direct subordinates, one of the remaining senior elders gave voice to a doubt he could not shake free.
"…Evidence with no flaw and no problem at all."
"Of all things, that such evidence should surface. Of all moments, that it should be reported now. Of all moments, that it should sever the Vice Head of the Bank's last breath now…?"
Even after Elder Namgung and his direct subordinates had withdrawn, a considerable number of elders remained. But of those still present, not one could answer that question.
The Hobop Wonju's rest chamber.
Without question.
The Hobop Wonju irritably swept back the hair that had fallen across his brow.
As of this morning, the Eldest Young Master still held no evidence whatsoever of the Vice Head of the Bank's corruption.
That much the Hobop Wonju was certain of—both from circumstance and from material fact.
Which means the informant must have delivered the evidence to the Central Audit Department while this very Elder Council session was already underway…
"…Just who?"
No answer came from the Gamchal Buju seated nearby. The Hobop Wonju paid it no mind. He had never expected the man to know.
"My lord."
The door opened to reveal his right hand—the Hobop Il-bujang.
"And them?"
The Hobop Il-bujang's face was dark.
"The Central Audit Department's people are steadily narrowing their search."
He wiped the sweat from his brow and went on.
"It seems they, too, wished to avoid friction with our Hobop Court for the time being. We appear to have been lower on their priority list, but—"
The Hobop Wonju cut him off.
"In the end, their arrival here is only a matter of time."
"…That is so."
"And the Elder Council's secret passages?"
The Hobop Il-bujang shook his head.
"The Jangrowonju is cooperating with the Central Audit Department according to procedure. The secret passages cannot be used."
The Hobop Wonju clicked his tongue.
"…So he has already finished his calculations?"
"The corruption tip was decisive."
Crunch.
The Hobop Wonju's roughly clenched fist made an ugly sound.
"Gamchal Buju."
At the sound of his name, the Gamchal Buju lifted his bandaged face and shook his head.
"…Impossible."
He added shortly:
"As I have said—the Central Audit Department has already left this hand."
He was only restating a fact already known. But in this moment, even that dry, businesslike manner of speech grated on the nerves.
"…My lord."
The Hobop Il-bujang glanced toward the inner chamber of the rest room, then lowered his voice.
"…I believe this is the moment to cast the stone."
Their great piece was dead. The board had already tilted so far there was no need even to attempt a recovery. As the Hobop Il-bujang said—it was time to throw.
"Is that so…"
At the end of a long silence, the Hobop Wonju opened his eyes.
"…Is there a path to an elegant exit?"
At the question, the Hobop Il-bujang averted his gaze with an awkward expression, while the Gamchal Buju held his silence.
"…Of course there isn't."
The Yeon bloodline had taken the lead in moving the pieces—but in the end, this had been the Hobop Wonju's own board. There was no elegant way for the man who had built it to simply walk away.
"…In that case."
The Hobop Wonju decided.
"I will overturn this board with my own hand."
Grasping his intent, the Hobop Il-bujang's face filled with dismay.
"You mean to cast aside the hand you joined with the Yeon bloodline—and reverse course to cooperate with the Eldest Young Master?"
"Yes. If one is going to sell oneself, one must do so while the price is still high."
When the Hobop Wonju nodded, the Hobop Il-bujang voiced his concern.
"We may be able to deal with the Yeon blood relatives entangled in the Sword House Bank with our own hands, but—"
"—the rest of the bloodline will not sit quietly. However."
The Hobop Wonju made his will unmistakably clear.
"We cannot simply cling to the defeated and sink with them into the Yellow River, can we?"
"…That much is true, but."
The Hobop Wonju bared his teeth.
"If one cannot choose the best path, one chooses the lesser evil before it is too late."
He drew out a cigarette and set it between his lips. After a moment's hesitation, the Hobop Il-bujang, too, wore a bitter expression and gave his assent.
"…Remaining still as we are would become the worst of all evils. There is no other choice."
The Hobop Wonju turned his gaze toward the inner chamber and spoke in a low voice.
"…Fortunately, we still have the Vice Head of the Bank in our custody."
"By delivering the man into their hands ourselves, we can open a channel for dialogue with the Eldest Young Master."
Even as he said it, the Hobop Il-bujang's expression was far from easy.
"…You."
Looking at him, the Hobop Wonju clicked his tongue.
"Have you still not shed the last of a junior elder's greenness? Have I not told you time and again—on this political board—"
The Hobop Il-bujang nodded and cut him off.
"On this political board there are neither eternal enemies nor eternal friends. I know."
Even so, his expression remained poor. Turning away from him, the Hobop Wonju addressed the Gamchal Buju.
"And you, Gamchal Buju? Have you made up your mind?"
The Gamchal Buju drummed his fingers lightly against the armrest, then opened his mouth.
"…I already have."
"Good."
At the swift calculation in the Gamchal Buju's reply, the Hobop Wonju nodded with a considerably lighter heart.
"Then, before the Central Audit Department's people come crashing through the door—we shall go first to the Eldest Young Master and—"
He never finished the sentence.
Bang!
"Who dares—!"
The Hobop Il-bujang roared at the figure who had thrown the door wide open.
"I was told there was a delicious scent coming from this room."
At the sight of the man who appeared escorted by the white-haired, white-eyed ghost, the Hobop Il-bujang staggered back from the doorway in shock.
"…E-Eldest Young Master!"
"Oh my."
Yeon So-hyeon surveyed the interior of the rest chamber, a meaningful smile forming on that pale face.
"Well now. It seems all the principal players in this affair are gathered right here."
Faced with the Eldest Young Master's abrupt appearance, the Hobop Wonju rose from his seat with a bitter smile.
I was going to seek him out myself anyway. This works just as well.
Rising, the Hobop Wonju brought his hands together to offer a formal greeting.
"Eldest Young Master of the House—"
But someone was faster—and more courteous.
"I present my respects to the Eldest Young Master of the House."
It was the Gamchal Buju.
…That Gamchal Buju, who hates stepping forward first in any matter, is offering greetings to the Eldest Young Master before anyone else?
The doubt that flashed through his mind took only a moment to become suspicion.
"A pleasure, Gamchal Buju."
And that suspicion took even less time to become certainty.
"Thanks to you, we have been able to bring this affair to a clean conclusion."
"…!"
"……!"
The Hobop Il-bujang's eyes flew open as wide as lanterns. The Hobop Wonju, still on his feet, squeezed his eyes shut.
"There were no separate problems with the 'evidence,' I trust?"
At the Gamchal Buju's courteous question, Yeon So-hyeon waved a dismissive hand.
"Given whose identity the informant you provided bears, how could there possibly be a problem?"
"Glad to hear it. It was a fine transaction."
"A fine transaction indeed."
Yeon So-hyeon nodded toward the Gamchal Buju, then turned toward the inner chamber.
"This Eldest Young Master has business that way…"
As he moved, his gaze flicked briefly toward the Hobop Wonju.
Flushed purple with rage he made no attempt to hide, the Hobop Wonju trembled from head to foot.
"It seems you two have a great deal to discuss."
Yeon So-hyeon moved on with an openly mocking smile, and Dokgo Ya-yeon, Head of the Central Audit Department, followed in his wake.
In place of the Hobop Wonju—whose forehead was scarlet, the veins standing out—the Hobop Il-bujang put the question to the Gamchal Buju.
"…Did the Audit Department also possess hidden evidence of the Vice Head of the Bank's corruption?"
He had not truly expected an answer. Unexpectedly, one came.
"We did."
The Gamchal Buju replied with easy frankness.
"Why else would we have agreed to elevate the Vice Head of the Bank to Head of the Bank?"
"…When did you hand the evidence over to the Eldest Young Master?"
"Without a doubt, immediately after the first re-vote was declared."
That answer came from the Hobop Wonju.
"…How would you know that, my lord?"
The Hobop Wonju forced his expression into something milder as he replied.
"Because if it had been me—I would have judged that the best possible moment."
For a moment the Hobop Il-bujang was left speechless by the answer. At last he managed to speak.
"…Is that not… far too early?"
"There is no such thing as too early."
While they spoke, the fully prepared Gamchal Buju's voice drifted over.
"A merchant must know how to sell his goods when their price is highest. A politician must know how to sell himself when his own value is at its peak."
He clicked his tongue softly.
"…But the victor in this transaction was the Eldest Young Master. I barely managed to avoid a loss—and gained nothing at all."
With a glance of farewell to the two men, he left the room.
"I hope you learned something from this, Il-bujang."