Situations Like This
The far eastern reaches of the Central Plains.
Spread across these waters lay an archipelago of more than a thousand islands, large and small. Somewhere amid that vast expanse—where hundreds of ships passed each year for trade, fishing, and dealings with foreigners—stood one particular family.
The Jusan Baek Family
They were strong, of course. Strong enough that they were being seriously discussed as prime candidates to fill the vacant seat among the Seven Great Families of the Central Plains.
But that was not what Gwak Ho-shin had come to warn about.
…Hyung-nim.
Theirs was a martial house renowned for its practical combat arts. Practical was too mild a word; their blades were vicious to the point of savagery, and were sometimes even compared to those of the Seoho Gwak Family in the same province.
Even so—
Their swords are nothing like mine.
Where Gwak Ho-shin’s Manhyeong Swordplay focused on surviving and winning, the martial arts of the Jusan Baek Family focused on killing and taking. There was a reason people called it a pirate’s sword.
He had heard enough rumors to have plenty to say.
Which was precisely why—
Especially that Baek Jung-hyeok. Using five or more hidden weapons and poisons at once in a duel is the bare minimum for him. They say the fight already starts before you even step onto the stage. There was even a case where an opponent began the match already poisoned without realizing it. The moment you pass under their family plaque, you can’t afford to let your guard down. How do I know all this? When I took a job last time escorting a manor beyond the mountains, the master of the house had just returned from Mount Putuo in the Zhoushan archipelago, and he told me…
…That was what he needed to say!
Yet Ho-shin’s mouth would not open easily.
His heart hammered without rest.
Thump-thump-thump-thump!
How many people were watching right now?
The pressure was crushing. If he opened his mouth wrong, his voice might crack, his pronunciation might slip, or he might start stuttering.
I feel like I’m going to choke.
And that was not all.
How long has it even been since I last had a proper conversation with Hyung-nim? Does he still misunderstand me about other things? I want to talk about this duel too… How am I supposed to start so it feels natural?
This was the second brother he had once followed so devotedly as a child.
Yet at some point the two of them had grown so awkward that even a simple greeting felt impossible. Warning or no warning, only silence flowed between the brothers whose eyes had met.
“……”
“……”
“……”
“……”
He was too nervous to speak another word.
He had given his warning, more or less. The rest he would somehow deliver later. He was just about to rise when—
“Hmm… I understand.”
“……!”
His second brother smiled and nodded.
“The Jusan Baek Family is dangerous. I’ll keep it firmly in mind.”
“I-I’ll organize everything into a letter for you later.”
“I’ll wait for it.”
Only after the words had already left his mouth in sheer panic did Ho-shin realize how he had answered.
Did I stutter just now? I think I was a beat late. Did it show? He’ll just think I was carefully choosing my words, right? Wait… no, no, I need to stand up!
There was no time for useless thoughts.
He had said he would organize the dangers of the Jusan Baek Family into a letter later, and his second brother had said he would wait.
The conversation was over.
If he did not leave now, the atmosphere would only grow more awkward.
“……”
“……”
Their gazes tangled in the empty air for a moment. Then Gwak Ho-shin nodded, rose from his seat, and turned to leave with the subordinates who had immediately gathered on either side of him.
That was when a voice called from behind.
“Ho-shin.”
It was his second brother’s voice—something he had never expected to hear again like this.
“Thank you. Always.”
“…………!”
Ho-shin stopped dead, as if nailed to the floor.
In the instant he barely held back the tears that threatened to spill—
“Let’s get along well from now on.”
—his legs nearly gave out beneath him.
After Gwak Yeon and Gwak Ho-shin parted ways, roughly two hours passed.
“Did you see him at the end?”
“Gwak Ho-shin looking like he was debating whether to spin around and put a knee into him?”
“Yeah. Can’t blame him.”
“He never saw Gwak Yeon coming with a provocation like that. ‘I’m the winner, you’re the loser—let’s keep this relationship for life.’ That’s basically what he said. And he only won by pure luck to begin with.”
“Hey, Gwak Ho-shin started the needling first.”
“Exactly. Everyone already knows how dangerous Baek Jung-hyeok of the Jusan Baek Family is. If he wasn’t going to give him a way to counter it, why even bring it up?”
“Meaning you’re finished.”
“It’s all psychological warfare. They spent nine-tenths of the time they sat facing each other just having a staring contest—what’s so surprising?”
“Brutal. Absolutely brutal.”
“Guess even brothers don’t matter in the great families…”
Somewhere in Hangzhou, people turned their brief encounter into drinking fodder, and a bizarre misunderstanding began to snowball.
Whew.
Cheon Gang, already starting to reek of liquor, turned to Gwak Yeon.
“Young Master.”
“Mm.”
“Forgive me, but may I ask one thing?”
“Go ahead.”
“That… about yesterday’s duel.”
“Whether Ho-shin went easy on me?”
“Ah—”
Gwak Yeon grinned.
He had expected it. When he had thanked Ho-shin earlier, he had already thought someone might interpret it that way.
“Haha. Is that how it looked?”
“N-not necessarily, but—”
“Think whatever makes you comfortable.”
“Ahem. My apologies.”
“No need to apologize.”
It truly did not matter. The current Gwak Yeon no longer cared about other people’s recognition.
Still—
That was a little hard to ignore.
Thud, thud.
As they walked the streets of Hangzhou toward another tavern, he kept spotting those strange banners here and there.
“By the way, there it is again.”
“Huh.”
This made the fourth one.
The enormous banner of the Jusan Baek Family—whose territory lay at the far edge of Zhejiang Province—was planted right beside the plaque of a martial hall here.
“If it’s Cheolyeongmun… that’s a fairly large sect around these parts.”
“I’d imagine so.”
Anyone who could open a martial hall on a busy street even in a place as crowded with factions as Hangzhou had to have real confidence in their skill.
“From what you said earlier, this sect must have lost a duel to the Jusan Baek Family as well?”
“That’s correct.”
The conversation he had just been having with Cheon Gang over drinks had been about none other than the Jusan Baek Family. Ever since they had parted from Gwak Ho-shin roughly two hours ago, nothing but complaints about them had left Cheon Gang’s mouth.
“To be precise, they accepted a challenge and lost the duel. They’ll have to hang that banner there for the next year.”
“I’m surprised they all accept instead of just dodging.”
“Those bastards are known for being extremely good at needling the other side’s pride. There was even a period when various Hangzhou sects that were tangled up with each other for one reason or another were itching to take revenge on their behalf.”
“Have we ever received one?”
“One came for the First Young Master Jeong-pal a long time ago. He thought the letter was dumpling wrappers, wrapped some meat in it, and chewed the whole thing up.”
“………?”
“After that it stayed quiet for a while, and now it’s finally coming to you, Young Master.”
He felt like he had misheard something in the middle there.
“But there’s no banner wager on this particular duel, so you needn’t worry about that part.”
“You’re already assuming I’ve lost?”
“Th-that’s not what I—”
“Haha. I’m joking. Enough talk that ruins the liquor. Let’s go finish our drinks.”
“Yes, let’s!”
Under a brilliantly risen moon, they pushed through the noisy crowds of the main avenue lined with blue and red lanterns, and Gwak Yeon and Cheon Gang’s drinking session continued as they moved from place to place.
This was the famous Chwihyangru—a house whose skill at making dumplings had reached the level of art.
“Hahaha! The juices just explode! Isn’t it delicious? Here, have a cup!”
“Ohhh.”
“Keh, I’m getting drunk! How about some osmanthus chicken next?”
“Sounds good!”
This was the Wolgwang Inn, known only to those in the know—a place that had built an entire pavilion on the strength of its roast chicken, nicknamed Beggar’s Chicken.
“Keuhahaha! This crispy texture—right? Isn’t it the best? H-have a cup!”
“Ohhh.”
“Keheugh, I’m drunk! Next is… n-noodles?”
“Sounds good.”
This was Cheon Gang’s regular spot, Ipun Banjeom. The chicken broth used for the noodles was so rich in flavor that a single bowl supposedly went down with ten bottles of strong fire liquor.
“Ke…ha! The best, right? H-hit me with another cup!”
“Ohhh.”
“Urgh! Uuurgh! I’m drunk! Nex… nex…”
“……”
“……”
“My turn to choose this time. How about fried rice?”
“S…ouns goo…”
This was a shabby little shop on the outskirts of Hangzhou’s pleasure district.
Ting-a-ling!
“Hahatta. What’s… here…”
Inside the empty shop, Cheon Gang—already dead drunk—muttered for a while before finally planting his face on the table and passing out completely.
“Ohhh… is he asleep?”
Snoooore.
After confirming the man was truly out, Gwak Yeon sighed and rose from his seat.
At that, the shopkeeper—who had been fidgeting restlessly ever since Gwak Yeon walked in—forced a smile in his direction.
“Ah, Hero. Your friend seems quite drunk.”
“Shopkeeper.”
“Still—”
“Do you know who I am?”
“Th-that is…”
“If you do, would you mind if I just have a glass of water before I go?”
“……Yes, of course.”
The uneasy shopkeeper moved about, and presently—
Tap.
—a glass of water was set on the table.
But Gwak Yeon did not drink it right away.
“……”
He simply spent the time looking back and forth between the moon visible through the window and Cheon Gang, who was out cold as if he had fainted.
…He waited.
And waited…
…And waited.
And waited…
Bang!
That was the moment.
Someone kicked the door open, and a group of people poured inside.
“Huh? Never thought I’d live to see a drunk still here at this hour.”
“G-great ones!”
“Old man. This is exactly why we can’t help raising the collection fee— Hm!?”
“I-I’m terribly sorry, but for today if you could just—”
“Get lost.”
“Ghk.”
Crash.
The shopkeeper went tumbling between the tables on the far side.
After that, multiple shadows fell across Gwak Yeon, who still sat with a glass of water before him.
“Hold on. This bastard… is it him?”
“Look. I think it is.”
“And this one next to him?”
“Must be a bodyguard. How else would a guy like him come here alone?”
“Shit, but he’s completely out cold.”
Faces snickering and jeering circled around Gwak Yeon as if to toy with him. Then in a single moment they parted left and right, and a shadow large enough to hide the entire table fell over him.
“………Well, look who it is.”
Gwak Yeon slowly raised his head.
He had just come face to face with the greatest harvest of today’s outing.
“If it isn’t the crybaby young master of our Gwak Family.”
Ma Gwan-wol, Leader of the Honcheon Sect.
In other words—the head of the underworld faction to whom the original owner of this body had once knelt and begged for his life, before ever facing the wolves of Gwigok Mountain.
Grin.
A smile like that of a man who had found a new toy rose across a face covered in knife scars, revealing yellowed teeth.
“What’s the young master doing all the way out here? Come for revenge?”
“I’m not particularly the type who enjoys something like revenge.”
“How touching—”
“But.”
A situation in which he could freely unleash the full measure of skill he had been hiding against an evil man he was free to kill—and at the same time, a situation in which he could experiment with forbidden arts he could never use on beasts or ordinary people.
“………I love situations like this far too much.”
Grin.
A nearly identical smile formed on Gwak Yeon’s lips, and killing intent filled his eyes.