A young man with a gloomy air stood up with Geuk-hwan. There was no weapon to be seen on his waist or back, nor on the table or chair. Does he use fist and foot techniques?
No. His shoulders were slightly tilted to one side and hunched forward, an awkward, unbalanced posture. A body that had never thrown a single kick. His gaze was timid.
His presence was weak. He lacked the sharp edge unique to a martial artist. He was an ordinary man, the kind you’d see anywhere in the market.
I didn't know his name, but his face was familiar. He was the man I saw digging with a shovel, surrounded by men of the dark path in the mountains on the first day I returned to my hometown. I had pretended not to see him and turned away back then.
He looked familiar, but he wasn't from my hometown, and I felt no sense of connection. There was no reason to risk my life to save him. I happened to run into him again when I went to the back alley to kill Jang Ho-dal for assaulting Gu-sam.
The man was hauling wine jars to the gambling den, pulling a cart through the pouring rain. Just then, Jang Ho-dal came out, so I missed the chance to speak to him. I hadn't seen him since.
“Who is this person?”
“Let’s talk sitting down.”
I unfastened my long knife, propped it up next to the table, and sat down. Geuk-hwan also sat, and the man, glancing nervously at my long knife, cautiously perched on the edge of his chair. Geuk-hwan filled our teacups and told me who the man was.
“He’s a worker from the brewery. Of all the people our members questioned for the request, he was the only one who recognized the face in the portrait.”
“What’s your name?”
The man hesitated and looked at Geuk-hwan, who gave a slight gesture as if granting permission.
“Tell him everything you told me earlier. This is the client.”
The man nodded and opened his mouth.
“My name is Jin Seok-man.”
“Are you perhaps from the Western Village? I lived there when I was young, and I feel like I’ve seen you around a few times.”
“No. My hometown is Shimmering Light Village.”
“Shimmering Light Village?”
My unintentional frown must have looked quite intimidating. Swallowing dryly, Jin Seok-man quickly continued.
“It’s about a two-day walk northeast of here. It’s the closest village to the Western Village. When people in the Western Village got sick, they all came to Shimmering Light Village to see the physician.”
“Ah… so it was that village?”
I remembered.
I had never been there myself, but whenever someone fell ill, the old physician there was the only one the people of the Western Village trusted.
“What was that physician’s name again…?”
To my probing question, Jin Seok-man answered without hesitation.
“That would be Elder Hwang-bae. The villagers called him the ‘One-and-a-Half-Pack Physician’ rather than by his real name. It’s because he always used exactly one and a half packs of medicinal herbs for any prescription.”
I thought his family name was ‘Han’ and his given name was ‘Cheop-ban,’ but it was a nickname. In any case, it matched my memory.
“Where is the portrait?”
Geuk-hwan took a rolled-up piece of paper from a wooden box and spread it open. Pointing to the faces of Sister Soso’s family drawn by the pavilion master, I asked.
“Do you really know these people?”
Jin Seok-man nodded.
“I had an older friend in the Western Village, so I visited a few times when I was young. I saw them then. We weren't close, but I know their faces. Weren't they the ones who lived in the tiled-roof house at the southern foot of the mountain? They were so kind-hearted that they even took in the neighbor’s orphan who lost his parents in a flood…”
The hair on my head stood on end, and my chest swelled with emotion. This man is telling the truth. He's not from my hometown, but he has definitely visited the Western Village as a child.
No one else could possibly know that I stayed with Sister Soso’s family after losing my parents.
“Where are they now? If you can find them, I will reward you handsomely.”
Jin Seok-man smacked his lips awkwardly, as if in disappointment.
“I don’t know where they are. I don’t know where they went, either. But I know who took them.”
“Took them?”
A chilling premonition gripped my heart.
“Who? To where?”
Jin Seok-man, as if his throat was dry, drank his tea several times before continuing.
“It was about eight years ago. There was a terrible famine, and all the villages were in chaos.”
“The Western Village, too?”
“No. For the Western Village, the problem was the year after.”
“Another famine?”
“They were ruined before they could even start farming. Outsiders swarmed in, seized the reservoir in the mountains, and cut off the water.”
“Who would do such a thing…”
Among the residents of the Western Village, there wasn't a single tenant farmer employed by a landlord. Though modest, everyone farmed their own land.
“They were martial artists carrying swords. They claimed they had bought the rights to the reservoir from the authorities.”
I thought I knew what was going on.
“Did any martial artists approach them, offering to solve the reservoir problem?”
Seizing control of the water to disrupt farming is a classic tactic used by those on the dark path to extort money from farmers. No matter how angry or desperate they were, they couldn't stand up to martial artists with swords. If bribes had been paid in advance, appealing to the authorities would have been useless.
As they helplessly wrung their hands, a martial artist calling himself a hero would appear, offering to fight on their behalf for a fee. After staging a roughly coordinated fight, they would all take a hefty sum and leisurely withdraw. It was a common occurrence in rural villages far from the authorities' reach anywhere in the Central Plains.
But in the Western Village, things didn't go that way.
“There were a few who stepped up to solve the problem. I heard they were all beheaded. They said everyone was killed, perhaps to make an example of them…”
That autumn, unable to endure any longer, the residents of the Western Village had to sell their land for a pittance and leave their hometown behind. I didn't understand. Why would they go to such lengths?
The Western Village had barren soil. It wasn't a strategic location for transport either. What could they possibly use such land for…
Jin Seok-man’s calm voice struck an unexpected chord.
“They must have sold it. Aren’t all the buildings erected in the Western Village standing on that land?”
The Dragon Sky Escort Agency, which left Sichuan in search of a new home. The merchants and workers who followed them into the Western Village. If they had sold the land to them, they must have made a huge profit.
“Did the residents leave their hometown willingly?”
That couldn't be. A farmer’s attachment to their land was beyond imagination. A martial artist’s obsession with their weapon was laughable in comparison.
To a farmer, the land they tilled was as precious as their own children, no, even more precious. The reason farmers bowed and remained passive in their resistance, even when exploited by officials and preyed upon by bandits, was because they could not abandon their land and flee.
If they lost their land, even the most simple-minded farmer would see red and raise their scythe. Sometimes, they would even storm the government office and set it on fire. It was unavoidable for them to shed tears of blood and abandon their hometown to find a way to survive due to famine.
But having their land unjustly taken away like this was a different story. They would rather die on their own land and become a vengeful ghost than be driven out so wrongfully. That’s what farmers were like.
“They held on and on, but in the end, they all got on the carts.”
“Carts?”
“A group of people came with carts and took all the residents away.”
A chill ran down my spine just thinking about what might have happened to the residents at the end of that journey.
“Don’t tell me it was those bastards who blocked the reservoir and stole the land?”
“No. They were martial artists wearing black robes and black hats, with swords at their waists. They persuaded the residents to get on the carts, saying they had a place for them to relocate.”
“Who were they?”
“I don’t know. At the time, I didn't dare ask.”
“Did you see all of this yourself?”
Jin Seok-man answered cautiously, yet without hesitation.
“Most of it I heard from the elders, but I saw the residents leaving with my own eyes. My friend also left the Western Village then, so I went to see him off for the last time.”
“Are you sure these people also left at that time?”
“Yes. The sight of them sitting in the back of the cart, wiping away tears as they watched their hometown recede into the distance, is still vivid in my mind.”
“Is that all?”
Jin Seok-man sank into thought for a moment before speaking.
“The black hat of the man leading the martial artists with swords fell off once. I briefly saw his face then.”
“Do you still remember his face?”
“I remember.”
“You said it was seven years ago?”
“A person’s face, whether handsome or ugly, is not easily forgotten if it has strong features.”
“Was his face that hideous?”
“Quite the opposite. He was a strikingly handsome man, the kind you rarely see in the countryside. In all my life, I have never seen such a fine man.”
I stared at Jin Seok-man for a moment, then turned my eyes to Geuk-hwan.
“Can you have a portrait drawn?”
“It’s possible.”
The artist who was summoned was far more skilled than the pavilion master. Showing it to Jin Seok-man repeatedly, he drew and erased the eyes, nose, and mouth on a small mirror before combining them all on a sheet of rice paper.
Well-defined features.
Thick, writhing eyebrows. A gaze brimming with intelligence. Just as Jin Seok-man had described, he was a dashingly handsome man who could easily pass for a rising star of a righteous sect.
Geuk-hwan looked at the drawing and asked Jin Seok-man.
“Is this the right face?”
“Yes. He looked exactly like this.”
“Are you certain?”
“I’m sure. This man led his subordinates and took the residents of the Western Village.”
Jin Seok-man was confident, but Geuk-hwan looked like he didn't quite believe it.
“Do you know this face?”
Geuk-hwan didn’t answer right away. He led me to another spot. Even after we crossed the hall and entered another room, he remained silent for a long time.
“Who is it?”
I was worried about why he was being so reticent, but after hearing the name, I understood.
“It is Jeok Chu-yeong.”
“You mean the master of the Black Night Gang?”
Geuk-hwan slowly nodded.
“It’s the same face I saw when I last met him two years ago. In the drawing, he looks a bit younger and sharper, but the features are identical.”
My heart sank. So the Black Night Gang's arrival in the Western Village was no coincidence… They had been involved from much earlier.
But why…
“What is the extent of the relationship between the Underworld Information Clan and the Black Night Gang?”
“We communicate as much as is necessary.”
“Can you ask him if it’s true that they took the residents of the Western Village?”
“Jeok Chu-yeong has been in seclusion for the past two years. I heard he doesn't meet anyone except his close aides. And even if you could meet him…” …
Geuk-hwan calmly met my gaze.
“Whatever answer he gives, would you believe it? They are men of the dark path.”
Would a notorious gang from the dark path really take landless, homeless farmers to a paradise? Nine times out of ten, they would have sold them off. I clenched my teeth against the surging anger.
My chest felt tight enough to burst, and my breathing grew rough and ragged. A solid murderous intent formed in my two fists, which I clenched so tightly they hurt. My head felt like it was about to explode with the impulse to charge into the Black Night Gang's headquarters and call out Jeok Chu-yeong’s name.
I couldn't believe it. Something was wrong. It couldn't have ended like that.
It just couldn't. In the midst of this unbearable confusion, a part of my mind suddenly grew cold, as if a blade had touched my back. Only then did I realize. None of this was fact yet.
It was just a one-sided claim. Just because he knew about the people of the Western Village, there was no guarantee that the other words Jin Seok-man uttered were also true.
It’s easy to point fingers and laugh at fools and idiots who get caught in schemes like killing with a borrowed knife or provoking a general, dancing in the palm of someone else’s hand. But when you become the target yourself, everyone falls for it just the same. I’ve heard that people become fools when they fall in love.
Boiling resentment and uncontrollable emotions can also make a person foolish. How much could I trust Jin Seok-man? If he had seen Jeok Chu-yeong and was fabricating this story with some intention…
Even if that wasn't the case, rushing to the Black Night Gang without a second thought was madness. First, I had to separate the lies from the truth, the intentions from the facts, in Jin Seok-man’s story. Whether he was hiding something or simply mistaken about something.
It wouldn't be too late to act after that. It’s not like the Black Night Gang, which controlled the back alleys of the Western Village, was going anywhere. Taking a deep breath, I barely managed to suppress my boiling emotions and then unclenched my fists.
“I understand. For now… let’s watch.”
* After leaving the Deep Fragrance Pavilion, Jin Seok-man headed straight for the main street. Instead of returning to the brewery where he worked or to his home, he entered a rather large inn. He glanced around the interior before sitting down across from a man who was already there waiting.
I was looking for an empty seat, but the moment I saw the man’s face, I stopped tailing him. As I approached, Won Seo-gang, who had been listening to Jin Seok-man, blinked and tilted his head.
“Well now, it’s been a while. I heard you were busy with your martial arts training these days.”
“No matter how busy I am, I have to do what needs to be done.”
“How did you know I was here?”
“I didn't. I was following this fellow. I never expected he would come to you, Brother Won. The Western Village is a small place. Do you know each other?”
Only then did Jin Seok-man turn his head to look back, his eyes widening in shock. Won Seo-gang narrowed his eyes and scratched his chin.
“I was introduced to him through a mutual acquaintance. I came to hear him out since he said he had information about the Black Night Gang.”
“Is that so? A moment ago, he told me that people from my hometown were taken by someone, and he said it was related to the Black Night Gang.”
“Really? This fellow is more interesting than I thought.”
Won Seo-gang’s eyes, as he looked at Jin Seok-man, held a strange glint. It was a look of relief, as if things had turned out well, rather than one of suspicion. It seemed Won Seo-gang also had no particular way to verify if the information Jin Seok-man brought was reliable.
“Let’s move. To a quiet place.”
It would be nice if he listened to reason, but if words don't work, it seems I’ll have no choice but to walk the dark path tonight. Won Seo-gang, perhaps thinking the same thing, tapped the table and stood up.
“That sounds good.”
He turned and called for the waiter.
“Are there any private rooms left on the second floor? A quiet one in the corner.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll show you the way.”
I followed the waiter toward the stairs. Won Seo-gang followed behind, leading a completely frozen Jin Seok-man.
“Now, let’s go.”
Terrified that two menacing martial artists were trying to drag him somewhere, Jin Seok-man trembled uncontrollably. The other customers only glanced over but didn't intervene. They all had too much food and wine left to risk getting stabbed for meddling in other people's business.
“H-hey, where are you taking me?”
Won Seo-gang grinned, slinging an arm around Jin Seok-man’s shoulder like they were childhood friends.
“Where else? To the chamber of truth.”