Why I Have to Enter the Race (2)
The gap between Irab Dahan and Jin Yigang had shrunk to half a jang when Jin Yigang's upper body tipped backward. He was flat on his back on the camel now, and in the same motion both hands seized Chunja's thighs. In his vision he caught Irab Dahan charging in along Chunja's left side.
He ground his foot against the camel's flank to kick off his shoes, then pressed both soles against Chunja's hump. And then — hauling with both hands even as his legs pushed out.
Like a boat shoved away from the dock with a pole, Jin Yigang flew backward over Chunja's rear, lying flat the whole way. Suspended in midair, he wrenched his torso around and thrust out his right foot.
THWACK!
His right heel cracked square into Irab Dahan's solar plexus.
"Hrk—!"
The impact was monstrous. Irab Dahan's sword tore loose from his grip as he was flung backward through the air.
Swish!
Jin Yigang turned a somersault in midair, landed, and shot toward the still-falling Irab Dahan.
WHAM!
Irab Dahan slammed into the ground.
"Kraagh!"
The pain was beyond anything. He screamed. He couldn't form a single coherent thought. He had to get up — but his body refused to obey.
Swish!
Then a sound came from directly overhead.
Irab Dahan's eyes snapped open.
Jin Yigang was plummeting down at him, clutching Irab Dahan's own sword.
'Dodge, I have to dodge—'
There wasn't even time to gather his internal energy.
The instant he tried to roll away, Jin Yigang drove both knees down onto him, pinning him to the earth.
Then he plunged the sword in without mercy.
Irab Dahan squeezed his eyes shut.
"HAAAH!"
A thunderous shout slammed into the company's ears.
SHUNK!
"KYAAAAAAGH!"
Irab Dahan's scream was pitiful.
"Ah!"
"Oh no!"
Cries burst from Yuna's group. None of them had believed Jin Yigang would really drive the sword home.
Jin Yigang turned his head.
The one who had shouted was Instructor Poi Rap.
"You made me botch it, you know."
Jin Yigang said as he rose.
"Ah―!"
"He didn't stab him?"
Yuna's group gasped. The blade had sunk not into Irab Dahan's face, but into the dirt a hair's breadth beside his neck.
Just then, Irab Dahan opened his eyes.
"Don't even dream about it. Twitch a single finger and that blade takes your head off."
Irab Dahan looked at the sword. The steel stood planted beside his own neck like a cleaver.
"Someday I will kill you."
"Fine by me. But next time I won't miss the way I did just now. So good luck with that."
Jin Yigang gave Irab Dahan's cheek a light tap and stood.
"What is going on here?"
Poi Rap walked over and asked.
The group held their tongues. Poi Rap was only an instructor, but he was one of the men with the authority to throw them out of the camp — they had to tread carefully.
"We were just fooling around."
Jin Yigang answered.
"Fooling around?"
"That's how young folks grow up, isn't it?"
Jin Yigang walked over to Chunja.
"We're saved!"
A wide grin bloomed across his face.
The tray bearing the food was sitting perfectly upright. Every dish intact. He glanced back at Yuna.
"Put it up on the hump," Yuna said.
"Thanks."
Jin Yigang set the tray on the hump and vaulted up onto the camel.
"Let's go, Chunja."
He gave the camel's flank a light kick.
KUUEOK!
"What an interesting man. I want to hear more from him."
Yuna ran after Jin Yigang and soon matched his pace.
"I'm Yuna."
She spoke first.
"How old are you?"
"Take a guess."
"How am I supposed to guess when I can't see your face?"
"You can tell plenty from a voice alone."
"Fifteen."
"Am I supposed to be happy about that?"
"Then thirty."
"Now that's just cruel."
"Actually, I have a confession to make."
"What is it?"
"I'm not curious at all."
"About what?"
"Your age."
"...I told you. I'm Yuna."
"I have no idea who Yuna is."
"The Spirit Ghost Yuna?"
"I know fewer than ten women in this world, and not one of them is a Spirit Ghost Yuna."
"Then what about Irab Dahan?"
"I only know that busybody because he announced his own name."
"Busybody?"
"If it isn't his camel, he ought to mind his own business whether someone rides it or boils it for stew. No need to play guardian of the desert."
"So that's what the fight was about?"
"The most contemptible thing a person can do is trample someone else to inflate their own worth."
"You're saying that about Irab Dahan's reverence for camels?"
"Reverence, is it?"
Jin Yigang asked back.
"That's why he won't let 'just anyone' ride them."
"That 'just anyone' is exactly the problem. Anyone who owns less than he does gets written off as unqualified to sit on a camel — regardless of what that person actually feels about camels. Purely on his say-so."
"Irab Dahan's love for the desert is genuine, though."
"Then he shouldn't have left it. Once you walk away and abandon something, you ought to forget it cleanly."
"Put that way, I suppose you're right. But you don't know a thing about us, do you?"
"Someone mentioned you're all children of the gods?"
"Not children of the gods. We simply had the good fortune of well-chosen parents."
"Must be nice."
"What is?"
"Being born to fabulously wealthy parents."
"Wouldn't you like to know more about us?"
"Isn't that why you came over — to tell me?"
"And who might this stranger be?"
"I know you, Irab Dahan, and Gongson Mugi."
"Then let me start with the beauties. The silver-haired, emerald-eyed beauty whose chest is twice the size of mine is Seok Yu-ran, the Heavenly Flower princess of the Geumsan Seok Family. The woman whose black pupils are strikingly large is Jongri Yeon of the Mangeum Jongri Family — the All-Knowledge Heavenly Brain."
"Would you prefer they were bigger?"
Jin Yigang asked, letting his gaze drift toward Yuna's chest.
"Mine are small."
"For your frame, that's already plenty big... If you were as tall as that Seok Yu-ran girl, yours would be bigger still."
"That is not remotely comforting."
"Who's the man with the splendid beard?"
"Hong Cheondo, the Fire Dragon Crown Prince, eldest son of the Cheonchu Hong Family. They're the First Empress's clan."
"The one with the terrifyingly gorgeous saber?"
"That's Shindo Geommyeong, the Radiant Demon Saber, eldest son of the Gwangmyeong Shindo Family — the Second Empress's clan."
"The one with the sideburns and chin beard — is he imperial in-law too?"
"No, that one's Tae Muryong, the Demon-Subduing Divine Dragon, a son of the Hwanggeum Taesan Family. Merchant house."
"Don't they say every merchant is a thief at heart? And his title is Demon-Subduing Divine Dragon?"
"Pfft!"
"The one with the scarred face?"
"You've catalogued every last feature."
"I'm rather good at that sort of thing."
"Jeon Bung, the Hell Fighting Demon, eldest son of the Manyu Jeon Family."
"Great title."
"Don't you have one?"
"The Twin-Ten Squad boys made one up for me."
"Made up?"
"It was born after we all bathed together."
"......?"
"Don't go digging for too much. There are things only men are meant to share."
"I have five older brothers, you know."
"And the gloomy one?"
"Eulmok So, the Spirit Communicator, isn't gloomy — he's just frighteningly smart."
"Half of the smart ones are gloomy. Anyway, that leaves only you."
"I've undone the Faceless Phantom Art."
Jin Yigang turned his head.
"Oh, so you have."
"About what?"
"Fifteen."
"Then how do you explain this?"
Yuna thrust out her chest.
"You said earlier they were big."
Jin Yigang scooped up a bite of rice and brought it to his mouth.
"......You eat while riding a camel?"
"If I want to race her, I have to win her friendship first. Sharing a meal is one way of doing that."
"But she isn't eating."
"She is."
"She is? ...Huh. So she is."
Yuna nodded. The camel was chewing her cud.
"What's your name?"
"Gu-chil."
"And your real name, not that one?"
"Gu-chil."
"...You'll remember my face, won't you?"
"I rarely forget anyone once I've seen them. By the way — are you ten the only children of the gods?"
"No. There are forty more."
"Fifty in all?"
"Yes."
"And the Grade 2s?"
"Five hundred Grade 2s, one thousand Grade 3s, three thousand Grade 4s, and five thousand four hundred and fifty Grade 5s — who are then divided into six classes."
"Which class is the Twin-Ten Squad?"
"Fifth grade, sixth class."
"Fifth-sixth class — that means sixth within the fifth grade?"
"Yes."
"Is there anything below that?"
"No."
"What class are the Army Commanders?"
"Every one of them is Grade 2."
"I see. Thank you for explaining all that without letting on how tiresome it was."
"So — are you really going to enter the race?"
"Every last one of my Twin-Ten Squad mates says they're betting on me. So even if I didn't want to, I'd have no choice. And if I don't enter, they might just bury me in the sand."
"You've all grown close awfully fast."
"I'm simply blessed with a sociable nature. Anyway, I've still got some of the money my family gave me before I came here. Should I put a little on myself too?"
"How much did they give you?"
"A thousand nyang. I gave away five hundred and brought only the rest. Ah — and there's also the ten thousand nyang I picked up thieving on the way."
"Thieving?"
"Something like that."
"And who are you betting on?"
"On me, naturally."
"...Have you ever ridden a camel before?"
"This girl is my first."
"Irab Dahan has been riding since he was a child, and the rest of us were practicing long before we ever set foot in this place."
"And that is precisely why I charge in without a shred of fear."
"What do you mean?"
"None of you are professional riders."
"......"
"A jockey whose living depends on it rides 'with the strength of death itself.' If they don't, they could lose the very job that feeds them."
"We rode with our 'strength of death' too."
"Do you truly believe your 'strength of death' and a jockey's 'strength of death' weigh the same?"
"Are you saying they're different?"
"For people like you, 'strength of death' is nothing more — and nothing less — than a warm little glow of accomplishment. Don't take it the wrong way; I'm not saying you think of yourselves that way. It's the environment you were raised in that shaped you. In other words, the intensity of your 'strength of death' tops out somewhere around 'I worked hard today, too' or 'that was a meaningful day.' For a jockey, on the other hand, it's a matter of the rice bowl itself — deadly serious business."
"So our effort counts for nothing, is that it?"
"I didn't say it counts for nothing. I said that for your level, it's honestly not bad."
"That stings my pride."
"It's just my personal opinion. By the way — is the race one lap around?"
Jin Yigang asked.
"You didn't even know that much?"
"Nope."
"It'll be somewhere between ten laps and twenty."
"How long is a single lap?"
"Five li."
"So twenty laps would be a hundred li — forty kilometers."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because there are preliminary heats first."
"How many rounds are there?"
"The format gets announced a day or two before the races."
"Ah―!"
"If I were you, I wouldn't enter."
"I have to."
"Why?"
"The prizes are too tempting. The Yin-Yang Life-Death Fruit above all."