Chapter 100: Chapter 100

Jang Geon completely pulled back the quilt and examined the bedding. Approaching beside him, Anon asked.

“What is this?”

“It seems someone covered him with a quilt and beat him half to death.”

Standing slightly back and watching, the clerk Mandeok wore a shocked expression.

“The bloodstains are that thick? To make it like that without even stabbing with a blade, just beating him senseless…”

Raising his head, Jang Geon looked around the house, which appeared nothing out of the ordinary.

“Right. Even if he survived at the time of the beating, he likely died shortly after.”

Realizing the situation was unusual, he could tell that the slightly disheveled state of the house wasn’t simply unorganized, but roughly ransacked by rude hands. Jang Geon guessed they had rummaged around looking for gold, silver, or jewelry. It didn’t seem as though they had searched for a specific objective.

“Is that fellow Rakka quite sociable?”

“…What kind of nonsense is that?”

Tracing the traces in the house with his eyes, Jang Geon said.

“At least three people or more entered the house.”

“Three? What, you mean Rakka’s friends? That bastard rode the same ship as me, so there’s no way he has friends here. It doesn’t seem like Rakka’s doing.”

“They don’t necessarily have to be friends to move together.”

Anon tilted his head.

“Then what is it?”

“Right now in Gamsan, there are plenty of scoundrels who would barge into someone’s home, beat the owner senseless, and ransack for gold and silver whenever given the chance.”

Anon wore a blank expression without understanding what he meant, but Mandeok beside them knew who those scoundrels were. Organizations of the underworld.

“Haven’t the back-alley thugs been thoroughly swept up by the Murim Alliance over the past few days? Just yesterday, eight were dragged off to jail. Three of them are scheduled to be hanged.”

“They continue to get captured like that. And that means they haven’t been completely wiped out yet.”

“No, well… that’s true, but…”

Anon quickly cut into the conversation between the two.

“What are you saying? What is that bastard Rakka doing?”

“Regardless of how the situation played out, if this fellow Gang Sik truly intended to recover the stolen goods from Rakka, Rakka wouldn’t have handed them over obediently either. In my view, it seems that fellow Rakka is mingling with the back-alley thugs of Gamsan Castle.”

Anon knitted his brows at Jang Geon’s words.

“With thugs? Hey, what’s this bastard trying to do? Did he disembark here across that vast ocean just to play back-alley boss?”

“Nothing is certain yet, so let’s first look for this fellow Gang Sik.”

“Where?”

Jang Geon turned toward the door.

“It doesn’t seem like there are any more clues here. It would be faster to search for eyewitnesses around here.”

The small shacks in the deep alleys were always wary of outsiders. Since Jang Geon and his companions had received such stares upon entering this alley just now, if someone had raided this shack and dragged Gang Sik away—or killed him and taken the body—there would surely be someone who witnessed it. Thanks to buildings huddled so closely together, keeping secrets amidst such a commotion wouldn’t be an easy task.

Stepping out after opening the door, Jang Geon looked around. People could be seen here and there. Idle loafers squatting beneath a distant wall killing time, a middle-aged man smoking tobacco on the opposite second-floor railing looking down here, an old woman passing by with a bundle and stealing glances at him, and so on. Everyone living in this alley and shantytown watched Jang Geon with wary eyes.

Anon, who followed out beside him, saw that and said.

“…It seems we are the suspicious characters after all.”

Before going into the shack, the gazes hadn’t gathered like this. It seemed they were watching after seeing strangers opening a neighbor’s house and stepping inside. Looking all around, Jang Geon soon walked toward the loafers gathered to one side.

Dressed in shabby clothes with unwashed, disheveled appearances, all the loafers scowled fiercely and glared at Jang Geon as he approached them.

“What is it? You got business?”

Holding short tobacco pipes in their mouths or spitting yellowish saliva, they put on threatening expressions, but at best they looked half like beggars and merely appeared somewhat pitiful.

However, when Jang Geon walked up and merely stood in place watching them without a word for a moment, they soon thought he was looking down on them and rose in a flock from their seats. The sight looked just like beasts puffing up their bodies before fighting.

“What’s with this bastard? What are you glaring at?”

“Do you want to die? Where did you roll in from…”

But as they spat curses and strode toward Jang Geon, their faces suddenly turned pale white and they halted in their tracks. Reflected in their eyes was the six-pointed Murim medal that Jang Geon held out before them.

“…S-so you were a Murim Alliance warrior-nim. W-we failed to recognize warrior-nim…”

“Ha, haha… I-is there something you are curious about?”

As they bowed subserviently, Jang Geon tucked the Murim Alliance medal he had pulled out back into his robes. Ignorant punks couldn’t distinguish between a medal and an official token. Of course, someone who received a medal could borrow the Murim Alliance’s assistance under the discretion of each branch, but that didn’t make him a warrior affiliated with the Murim Alliance. Impersonating a Murim Alliance member could lead to trouble.

But to Jang Geon, who had no desire to caress the cheeks of rascals filthy with grime, that wasn’t a very important issue.

“You know the fellow who lived in the house I just came out of, right?”

Bowing politely, the loafers subtly exchanged glances among themselves. Having apparently picked a representative through glances alone in that short span, one fellow soon stepped forward and answered Jang Geon’s words.

“You mean Gang Sik? Yes, of course we know him. He was a fellow who hung out with us until he entered the smithy.”

“Who took him?”

“…Pardon?”

Looking steadily into the eyes of the fellow who stepped forward, Jang Geon said.

“Judging by the traces in the house, it didn’t seem like that fellow left on his own two feet. Who dragged him off?”

“Well… I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

The fellow acting as representative bowed with a servile smile. But Jang Geon did not smile.

“Then whoever knows, step forward. If no one knows, all of you are heading to prison.”

“…Pardon? P-prison?”

Thinking Jang Geon was joking, the fellow chuckled foolishly, but his complexion soon stiffened at his unchanging expression. In any case, over the past few days, thugs who ruled the night streets of Gamsan had all been getting arrested. Rumors circulated that the prison was so packed there wasn’t even room to lie down, and talk even went around that if there was no more space in prison, they would simply pick anyone at random and hang them.

Ordinary commoners cheered that bad guys were being locked up, and since they were merely bottom-feeders, they hadn’t realized the gravity before, but hearing such a threat with a Murim Alliance warrior right before their eyes made their knees feel weak.

He quickly turned to his group and signaled with his eyes asking if anyone knew anything. Everyone merely shook their heads claiming ignorance, but a short fellow in the corner subtly raised a hand.

“Um… I did see something, though…”

Jang Geon’s gaze turned toward him. All the other loafers stepped aside between him and the short fellow. Feeling burdened by the attention, the short fellow continued with a somewhat intimidated look.

“Th-that is… I didn’t see it clearly… Two days ago at night, I came out to buy liquor and saw some hulks carrying a bundle out of Gang Sik’s house… Wondering what happened, I knocked on the door after those people left, but it was locked, so I was thinking… I should tell Gang Sik whenever he returns…”

“Did you see their faces?”

“Pardon? Ah, f-faces, I couldn’t see properly, it was too dark…”

The short fellow shrank back even more. He seemed to think his story wouldn’t be very helpful. But Jang Geon asked again in the same voice as before.

“Then other than faces, was there nothing particularly memorable?”

Perhaps thanks to that calm voice, the short fellow rolled his eyes as he traced his memories, then soon let out a gasp as if recalling something.

“O-one of those hulks was wearing an earring. It was a large silver earring. Even in the darkness, that one thing was glinting…”

Anon, who had approached behind Jang Geon before anyone realized, scratched his head.

“An earring? Can you find someone with that?”

“More than enough. Among Central Plains men, wearing earrings is not a common thing.”

“What if he’s not from the Central Plains? He said he couldn’t see the face clearly.”

“Then we just have to look for a hulk wearing silver earrings among Westerners.”

Listening to the conversation of the two, the loafers were slightly startled by Anon’s suddenly appearing dark skin, and startled twice by his fluent Central Plains speech. Afterwards, the fellow who had stepped forward as representative subtly read Jang Geon’s mood and opened his mouth.

“…Hehe, um, warrior-nim? You don’t have any other business now, right?”

Jang Geon lightly gestured with his chin without a word, indicating they could leave. Bowing deeply in greeting, they scurried off and vanished beyond the alley. Watching that, Anon spoke again.

“Where do we go looking for the silver earring?”

“The harbor.”

“…The harbor? Why?”

Turning back, Jang Geon looked at Mandeok, his guide for the day in Gamsan.

“A man wearing earrings is not a Central Plains custom. At least not a Han Empire custom. It means he’s either from the far northern regions of the Central Plains or from another country, so rather than a permanent settler, it’s highly likely he’s a ship crewman or a dockworker at the harbor.”

“Oh… Is that so?”

It was Anon who expressed wonder, but the one wearing a truly surprised expression was Mandeok. He spoke as if caught off guard.

“Customer, are you from Gamsan?”

“Why?”

“Just as customer said, there are people among the harbor dockworkers who wear earrings. I was just about to bring them up.”

Jang Geon shook his head.

“I am not from Gamsan.”

“Then how did you…”

“By using my head. Let’s just head to the harbor.”

Mandeok shrugged his shoulders.

“The road to the warehouse where those people work is a bit complicated, though.”

At those words, Jang Geon looked at Anon, and Anon took out a gold coin and handed it over without complaint. Receiving the gold coin, Mandeok immediately stepped ahead to lead the way.

Jang Geon subtly glanced back before leaving the alley following him. Perhaps because they had seen the loafers bowing subserviently, the shantytown dwellers who had watched him with wary eyes were now hiding themselves and peeking at him through windows and cracks in doors. That place and its people were the fringes of Gamsan Castle hidden between large, splendid streets. A place one couldn’t know unless deliberately digging deep into alleys. A dim, hazy mist still blocked the sky above the alleyways like a low ceiling.

Gazing at that scene for a moment, Jang Geon turned and caught up behind Mandeok and Anon, who were moving farther away.

The mist in Gamsan remained thick. Although there was still plenty of time before noon, it was an exceptionally foggy day. Yet the smithy clerk Mandeok, even while passing through streets and alleys filled with mist, displayed an unhesitating, brisk stride as if heading to his own home.

Following behind him, Jang Geon felt the smell of the sea suddenly waft up at a certain moment and tickle his nose. Even though it was a port city, it was hard to feel the sea was near when merely passing through the courtesan street or tavern street, but with a single scent brushing his nose in an instant, the sea drew right up close to Jang Geon.

Mandeok’s steps soon arrived at the wharf and began checking the warehouses lined up across that area.

“It should be around here…”

Harbor warehouses—where goods were unloaded from sailing ships and ceaselessly stored, shipped, and organized—stretched out in a long line along the bay of the Gamsan wharf. Even in the heavily misted weather, there were people slowly hauling goods. It looked dangerous in Jang Geon’s eyes, but they must have had their own circumstances for doing so.

“This way.”

Having checked the warehouses, Mandeok led the way once more. And following him while looking around, Jang Geon stopped his steps upon noticing him abruptly halting at a certain moment.

“…Over there, that warehouse.”

Mandeok pointed to a warehouse a short distance away. In front of that warehouse—similar in shape and size to other warehouses around—a hulk wearing a bandana and a glinting silver earring sat on a wooden barrel used as a chair, puffing away on a tobacco pipe. His description matched the suspect of Gang Sik’s abduction or murder heard a moment ago.

Pointing out the man and warehouse, Mandeok stepped back subtly and said.

“I’ve guided you this far, so that’s enough, right? Don’t ask me to help with fighting or causing a ruckus either. Although I was once called the Fang of Gamsan, it’s been a long time since I left the world of fists.”

“Even if I pay you?”

When Anon took out a gold coin and said that, Mandeok appeared to waver for a moment, but soon shook his head.

“I promised not to fight anymore. Such a promise is precious. To the point it cannot be bought with money.”

Anon smirked as if finding such a Mandeok amusing. Then turning to Jang Geon, he continued.

“What are you going to do? Shall we go ask him?”

“First, we must confirm if they’re the fellows we’re looking for.”

Saying so, Jang Geon strode toward the hulk.

The hulk, who had been dragging hard on a tobacco stick that was down to its butt, suddenly spotted Jang Geon and Anon approaching across the mist from the wharf, exhaled smoke with a whoosh, and flicked the butt away. Rising from his seat with a grand motion fitting his massive build, he raised his right palm before Jang Geon and Anon.

“Halt. Faces I haven’t seen. What’s your business?”

Approaching, Jang Geon could tell he was neither a Central Plains person nor a Westerner. The hulk was mixed-blood. Since it had been over a hundred years since the New Continent opened and world trade flourished, it wasn’t particularly surprising in a port city.

Jang Geon stopped his steps at a distance just out of reach of the man’s arm and met his eyes.

“Is Gang Sik here?”

“…Gang Sik? Who’s that?”

“The clerk of Poga Smithy and a stolen goods broker.”

The hulk’s bewildered expression abruptly stiffened at a certain moment, as if realizing who that was.

“…I don’t know who that is.”

However, contrary to his words, the hulk was subtly moving his left hand toward his waist. Jang Geon glanced and saw a blade the size of a forearm fastened there. Hanging a small smile on his lips, Jang Geon met the hulk’s eyes again. Sensing that he had already seen his blade, the hulk moved abruptly, attempting to draw his sword.

The next moment, he flew backward with a loud crack. On the face of the sprawled man who had lost consciousness, a vivid fist mark remained. Watching that sight with slightly surprised eyes, Anon muttered.

“Oh, Jang Geon can throw a fist. The spicy fist of Gamsan Castle?”

Ignoring Anon’s trivial chatter, Jang Geon called Mandeok, who was standing far off. Handing him one of his silver coins, he said.

“Go to the Murim Alliance Gamsan Branch and tell them there’s a den of thugs here. Tell them Jang Geon will knock them all down, so all they have to do is come and collect them.”

“…Is it enough to just say that?”

“Then whether it’s the branch head or whoever, they will move on their own. Take your time coming back.”

At the words telling him to take his time rather than hurry back, Mandeok tilted his head, then soon turned away.

Having sent Mandeok to summon the cleanup crew, Jang Geon turned to Anon. Anon picked up the fallen hulk’s blade, swung it swish-swish, and grinned at Jang Geon’s gaze.

“I hope Gang Sik is alive.”

“Why?”

“Only then can I make him pay the price for lying to me.”

Lightly shaking his head, Jang Geon approached the small warehouse door on one side. Whether Gang Sik was alive or dead could be verified beyond the door. Placing his palm against the door to confirm there was no sign of presence before it, Jang Geon gently pulled the handle. And simultaneously, a terrifying blast of hot air and a nauseating stench poured out over Jang Geon from inside the warehouse.

Jang Geon’s face distorted. The nauseating stench was the smell of burning flesh.