Chapter 13: Chapter 13
Meanwhile, Mao, who had bolted like a wild horse, didn’t stop until he reached the vicinity of Chiseonru.
Even then, his rage was uncontrollable. His flushed face let out a scream loud enough to wake the dead.
“AAAAAARGH!”
This son of a bitch. Appearing out of nowhere to lecture him with that preachy drivel. And what was that about Young Cult Leader?
“Where does a Seventh Grade Ghost with nothing to his name get off running his mouth? And what? I’m worse than an animal?”
He hadn’t gone that far. But he had been thinking about it.
“What are you looking at!”
Waah! Even now, the good-for-nothing was yelling at a passing little girl.
“Damn it.”
Mao looked at the crying child and felt a deep wave of self-loathing. He kicked an innocent stone for good measure.
An embarrassing day, all around.
Getting lectured by some Seventh Grade Ghost who popped out of nowhere. Putting everything into a punch only to have it stopped by that small palm.
But the most embarrassing part of all.
‘I actually felt my heart stir at that bastard’s words… Fuck.’
Why wouldn’t he have thought about a life where others acknowledged him? Why wouldn’t he have imagined the moment he became Young Cult Leader?
He had. He’d tried it all.
But the brand stamped on him from birth wouldn’t allow it.
In his ignorant childhood, desperate for even a sliver of recognition from his father, his brother, his family, he’d mimicked the martial arts he’d watched over their shoulders.
But what came back that day wasn’t acknowledgement. It was severe punishment.
‘Know your place, or get beaten until you do.’
Mao scrubbed away the image of his brother that surfaced with a suffocating sigh. He leaned against the rainbow bridge railing, gazing at the sunlit waters, and muttered.
“I’m perfectly fine right now. Don’t have to starve anymore. Don’t get beaten anymore. What more could I want?”
Mao consoled himself and turned away. He’d go to Chiseonru and drink himself stupid. Yeah. That would fix it.
Just as he resolved to do so and started walking.
“Well, well. Look who it is.”
A familiar and despicable voice ahead grabbed him by the ankle. The moment he surveyed the path, Mao’s eyes wavered like a lost child.
A group of young talents on the cherry blossom-scattered bridge. At their center, the man who drew all eyes.
Greasy, oily white skin and a weasel-like impression. Draped in a flashy white robe, sneering at Mao as if he’d found a new toy.
“Isn’t this the Seventh Young Master?”
“Ma Jin-gu…”
A collateral relative of the Ma family and Mao’s cousin.
Ma Jin-gu.
A dog-shit bastard who had needled him relentlessly since childhood.
“I was just on my way to see you. What a coincidence.”
On your way to see him? Hah. A hollow laugh escaped Mao’s lips. What business could that face possibly have with him?
“Ah, why don’t you all pay your respects. This is the pride of our great Ma family, Seventh Young Master Mao.”
“Heard a great deal about you.”
Every member of Jin-gu’s group offered greetings with identical weasel expressions. No need to ask who they were. Their noble bearing alone gave them away. Children of Elder Council families. Collateral offspring, just like Jin-gu himself.
“Heard you took in a new adjutant today. I was thinking of visiting the palace to pay my respects. But here you are.”
So that was what this was about. Mao shook his head vigorously and answered vaguely.
“Ah, well. Something like that.”
“Heh heh. Why? Already thrown him out?”
Three lines etched themselves into Mao’s forehead. Seeing this, the corners of Jin-gu’s mouth curled even more viciously.
“Boys. Didn’t I tell you? The Seventh Young Master would never keep an adjutant by his side for even a day. Hahaha! Looks like I win this bet.”
“My, my. I thought he’d last at least a few days.”
“He couldn’t hold on. Remember what happened last time? Didn’t I say the family would punish him if they found out? That’s what kept him alone all this time. An adjutant now? Impossible.”
“Heh. Nothing scarier than family, after all.”
Hahaha! The group laughed openly in his face. Mao’s face turned crimson as his large fist clenched. These bastards.
But Jin-gu was a man whose cunning always preceded his brawn. Before Mao could erupt, he slipped in with calculated deftness.
“Now, now. Just having a laugh. A joke. The Seventh Young Master doesn’t look like he’s in the best of spirits. Shall we head to Chiseonru? I won big today. Drinks are on me.”
“Shut your mouth and piss off. I’m in a foul mood.”
“If you don’t want to… well, should I call Brother I-sin?”
Freeze. Mao’s stride, which had been moving past them, stopped. No. His entire body locked rigid, as if frozen solid.
Ma I-sin. The legitimate heir of the Ma family and Mao’s half-brother.
His name triggered an automatic reflex. A conditioned response drilled into him through years of torment.
Everyone had that one thing, didn’t they? A figure of fear that couldn’t be erased even if mountains crumbled and rivers dried.
Pat. Jin-gu’s hand draped over Mao’s trembling shoulder. And he whispered where no one else could hear.
“So… let’s go, you piece of shit. Don’t embarrass yourself in public.”
“Ma Jin-gu, you son of a…”
“What. The Seventh Young Master getting special treatment, so now I’m a joke to you? What. Want me to treat you like the old days?”
The killing intent in Mao’s eyes wavered. He bit down hard on his lip and turned his head away.
It wasn’t because Jin-gu scared him. It was because he was filthy.
The bastard was just a parrot. A lackey who squawked whatever Ma I-sin fed him.
“Fine. Let’s go. But you’re paying for everything.”
His life was a sewer anyway. What did it matter if he drank with garbage? Jin-gu was briefly surprised by Mao’s compliance, then smirked and waved to his companions.
“The Seventh Young Master will be joining us! Let’s drink ourselves stupid tonight!”
“Oh, let’s go!”
“Hahaha!”
Mao glanced once toward the Seventh Small Palace behind him, then followed in their wake.
* * *
– Wolha Village, Black Dragon Faction.
“God damn it. Why the hell is the Counter-Espionage Division here? Damn it. I barely survived.”
Back at his headquarters, Black Dragon Faction boss Yong-tae slumped face-down on the cracked table sitting in the middle of the room. The same table Mao had hurled days ago.
Beside him, Vice Boss Mae-gi swallowed hard and chimed in.
“That bastard was cunning, I will give him that. Aimed right for my blind spot, fist coming straight at my temple. He’s no ordinary one, boss.”
That’s because you’ve got eyes on the sides of your head, you mule.
Wearing the expression of a man who’d narrowly escaped death, Yong-tae shared his reflections.
“He should’ve said he was Counter-Espionage Division. Getting fooled by ‘Seventh Grade Ghost,’ I almost got buried. That bastard Mao. He did that on purpose, didn’t he? To soak me. Knew I had money hidden under this table.”
Bulge. Mae-gi’s eyes went wide.
“You hid money here, boss?”
“No! I didn’t! It’s just a figure of speech, you bastard. Don’t you know a joke?”
“Didn’t sound like a joke…”
“Anyway. Lock down tight for now. Tell the boys not to even take a piss near the Seventh Small Palace. Got it? If you catch anyone pissing that way, smash them with a rock. Cripple them so they can’t even stand in that direction. Understand?”
“That’s a bit extreme… Yes, sir! Understood!”
Yong-tae glared with frosty eyes, then exhaled deeply.
He was a Sixth Grade Ghost who had held official rank in the cult. So he knew exactly how vicious and terrifying the Counter-Espionage Division could be. Even against someone who’d left the division, lying low was the smart play for now.
“But boss. Those guys we saw on the bridge earlier.”
“Who?”
Mae-gi narrowed his wide-set eyes slightly and muttered.
“Couldn’t place it earlier. But thinking back, I know one of them.”
“Mae-gi. Do I need to know everyone you know?”
“That’s not it, boss. They’re from the Ma family.”
“Ma family? The Seventh Young Master’s house?”
“Yes. Ma Jin-gu, I think his name was. Had quite the notorious reputation when I was in Damyang Village.”
“Hold on… Ma Jin-gu? I’ve heard that name somewhere. I know that name. Give me a second… it’s… Gah!”
Yong-tae shot to his feet, face flushing.
“Someone you know?”
At Mae-gi’s question, Yong-tae chewed his lip like a dog with an itch and nodded.
One of Ma I-sin’s lackeys who had tormented Mao mercilessly.
“Hey, you get to the Seventh Young Master first. No, I’ll go myself. You gather the boys and tail those bastards.”
“Sir? A minute ago you said don’t even piss in that direction…”
“Hey, you bastard! Do you have any idea how the Ma family treated the Seventh Young Master?”
“Of course I don’t, boss.”
“Hah…! Right. You wouldn’t know.”
That story had circulated when he was in the Guardian Dragon Hall. Yong-tae scratched his head furiously and answered with a grim expression.
“God damn it. It’s all fucked…”
“What do you mean?”
“They sent assassins. Killed everyone around the Seventh Young Master. Servants, everyone. Wiped them all out.”
“What?”
“That’s why he’s been living alone all this time. Shit. Never mind. Just get out there and round up the boys. First we need to…”
The moment Yong-tae bolted irritably for the door.
CRACK!
The door splintered inward. A subordinate slid across the floor to Yong-tae’s feet, beaten to a bloody pulp.
“Did you call for him?”
“Couldn’t have, boss.”
Then…
“Shall we hear about that in detail?”
A man appeared, framed by a corridor of fallen subordinates scattered like fallen leaves behind him.
“Hiiiigh!”
Seventh Young Master’s adjutant, Jang I-seo, had arrived.
* * *
By now the sun had sunk below the horizon and dusk had settled. In a room on the fifth floor of Chiseonru, empty bottles and half-eaten dishes littered every surface.
Ma Jin-gu and his companions were deep in conversation, faces flushed red.
“Went to Yangyang recently and stopped at an inn. And wouldn’t you know it, there were these bastards in robes with plum blossoms embroidered on them. That’s right. Huashan Sect punks. They saw me, stopped talking, and just glared.”
“Hah, so what happened?”
“What happened? I may have been alone, but I’m the Ma family’s Jin-gu. Can’t let those righteous sect bastards intimidate me. Got a reputation to maintain. So I sat right in front of them and slapped my blade on the table. This very one, bestowed upon me by the First Elder himself. What do you think? They got right up and scurried out. Hahaha!”
“Probably just had to take a shit.”
Mao picked his ear, thoroughly uninterested in their self-aggrandizing circle jerk, and muttered. Jin-gu’s expression hardened.
“What did you say?”
“What. This is tasty.”
Pretending he hadn’t heard, Mao snatched up a piece of fruit and stuffed it in his mouth. Jin-gu’s eyes narrowed with irritation.
“Ah, I’ve been talking about myself too much, haven’t I? The Seventh Young Master must have been starving all day. Look at him stuffing his face like that. Or is it that after nothing but watery noodles every day, he just can’t help himself when he sees real food?”
“Hahaha!”
You think that’s funny, you bastards? None of you have anything but money. Mao propped his chin on his hand with a listless expression and continued ignoring them.
If he followed his temper, he’d head-butt them right now. But his opponent was Ma I-sin’s lackey, Jin-gu. When dealing with a smear of shit, looking away was the only answer. Just endure a little longer.
Whether he knew Mao’s thoughts or not, Jin-gu slowly began to reveal his true colors.