WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

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◈ The Little Prince in the Ossuary

Chapter 53

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#Something Worth Doing (2), Camp Roberts

Li Ailing gave Gyeoul a quiet bow of acknowledgment.

She looked very different. Before, there'd been something deliberate, almost excessive, about the way she'd put herself together. Now she was understated. White clothes. Given the 「Triad」's current circumstances, it was likely mourning wear.

She asked:

"Does what you said before still stand, sonsaeng-nim?"

She'd been waiting for this. Gyeoul nodded.

"Has the Dragon Head changed his mind?"

"Yes. He requests an audience."

"When would be convenient?"

"Whenever Han sonsaeng-nim prefers. Even today, if you wish."

Considerate words, on the surface. In truth, a roundabout way of saving face. What if Gyeoul took it literally and said they'd meet another time? Ailing would be in a deeply awkward spot.

'And if she thinks I did it on purpose, she'll hold a grudge.'

Chinese people didn't easily forget humiliation. Their culture placed enormous weight on face. There were individual differences, of course, but for someone who'd risen to Xiangzhu or Dragon Head of the 「Triad」, there was nothing to even debate.

Still, making her a little anxious couldn't hurt. He happened to have a convenient excuse.

"Since I'm going to see him, I'd rather not drag my feet, but showing up empty-handed would be embarrassing."

Ailing answered immediately.

"Please don't concern yourself with the usual formalities. Father wants for nothing, and he's not the sort of small-minded man who would fault someone for a trifle when greater matters are on the table."

The words came out well, but far too quickly. The urgency was painfully obvious. She tried to appear composed, but when their eyes met, a faint flush crept into her cheeks. Gyeoul decided not to press her.

"If you put it that way, then all right. Just give me a moment to change."

A guest's standing reflected on the host's pride, too. Giving the Triad head something to feel dignified about wasn't a bad idea. Negotiation wasn't all pressure and dismissal.

Ailing conceded without argument. She followed Gyeoul to the officer's quarters and waited outside. Partly surveillance, too. There was always the chance he might reach out to one of the rival organizations competing with the 「Triad」 for control of the 「Heishehui」.

Back in his room, Gyeoul pulled out his dress uniform. He'd never worn it outside a formal ceremony. He changed, pinned on his medals, fixed the Combat Infantryman Badge above the ribbon bar. People would stare, and that bothered him, but there was no helping it. The Chinese would appreciate the display.

Even as performance, swallowing the embarrassment was its own separate thing. A short exhale. The young officer pulled his service cap on.

When he stepped back outside, Ailing's admiration was entirely genuine.

"You look different up close."

She led the way without delay. The number of escorts was the same as before, but the 「Threat Level」 he sensed from them was lower than it used to be. Simple redeployment, or a sign of talent draining from their ranks? Defectors rarely fared well in Chinese culture, but these were strange times.

Security in the refugee zone was split between the military and the police, with daytime patrols falling to the officers. A few policemen shot curious glances their way. Military and police rarely warmed to each other, but Gyeoul was something of an exception.

The checkpoint into the Chinese quarter was 「Abel Company」's responsibility. Two female soldiers stood their posts and saluted him with crisp precision. Ever since Paso Robles, Abel Company had treated Gyeoul with a particular sort of deference.

The exchange of salutes was barely finished when one of them threw out a joke.

"Looking sharp, Ensign-nim. Hot date?"

"It's not like that, Amy."

His discomfort made them both burst out laughing. It wasn't just a prank to kill time, though. Ailing caught the meaningful look passing between them and quietly stepped aside. The soldiers spoke.

"Our shit-for-brains told us that whenever you pass through, we're supposed to ask your purpose and all that. And if you've got company, log it without fail."

Shit-for-brains was what they called Captain Markert. Gyeoul nodded.

"Do what you're told, then."

Both women made peculiar faces. The other one, Private Sarah, asked:

"You don't actually mean that, do you, Ensign-nim?"

"Why wouldn't I? Even if you don't, he'll hear about it one way or another. Why give him grounds to come after you for ignoring orders?"

Amy grinned, sharp and mean.

"Ha. Sweet of you. Don't worry, Ensign-nim, he's not exactly in a position to go after anyone right now. Has to watch his back for fragging every time he goes out on an op. Dumb bastard."

Gyeoul thought for a moment, then managed an awkward smile. Bringing up fragging openly in front of an officer wasn't something you did lightly. It said something about how much they trusted him, and about how completely Markert had lost his men.

Both soldiers were on a roll now, grievances spilling out one after another.

"There's a limit to how outdated you can be. Racism? In the army? A soldier's skin color is camouflage. That bastard's been wearing captain's bars long enough to know better."

"Seniority only means so much. Word is he padded his record in Iraq to make rank."

The first was Amy, the second Sarah. Private Sarah's gossip wasn't baseless. Inflating one's service record to rack up promotion points was an open secret among certain corrupt officers.

"Some people say he's doing it deliberately. No clean way out of this hell, so he's angling for a dishonorable discharge instead. Once he's a civilian, he doesn't have to deal with whatever's rotting out there. Gets to line his pockets on the way out, too."

Amy's reasoning had a ring of truth. The more Gyeoul turned it over, the more convincing it sounded.

'Then he's actually more dangerous than I thought.'

A man with nothing to lose had no reason to hold back. The two soldiers were thinking the same thing. If you're going to cause trouble, go big. And Gyeoul made a fine target. What scandal could generate more noise than one involving a war hero?

"Watch yourself, Ensign-nim. If a mad dog takes a bite out of you, our whole company might just lose it."

Rough words, warm feeling. Gyeoul shook Amy's hand.

"Thanks for the warning. I'll be more careful."

Ailing had been waiting for a while. She looked curious but didn't pry. It wasn't much of a secret, so Gyeoul told her first.

"They were warning me about Captain Markert."

"Ah."

No explanation needed. Ailing knew enough.

The moment they crossed into 「Heishehui」 territory, both 「Survival Instinct」 and 「Combat Sense」 threw up a warning. Augmented reality trajectory predictions. Someone had a ranged weapon trained on them. Gyeoul and Ailing appeared to be the targets. A gently arcing line of fire tracked them the entire way.

'A bow? A sling bow? A slingshot?'

Any of the three could be thrown together from basic materials.

The warning's color was faint. Being aimed at didn't mean an attack was coming. Gyeoul read the defensive and evasion probabilities 「Insight」 laid out for him. His skill corrections were strong. At low projectile speeds, catching an arrow by hand wasn't out of the question.

As expected, nothing happened. The two of them arrived at the 「Triad」's base without incident.

The interior of the tent blazed with rich shades of red. Short on resources as they were, the Chinese cultural character came through unmistakably. The calligraphy and paintings looked as though they'd been made here on-site. At the center front, a carved dragon-head ornament commanded the eye. The symbol of the organization's head, apparently.

Somehow they'd gotten their hands on a wooden table. Spare chairs were arranged around it on all sides, and at the head of the table sat an old man.

'Not what I expected at all.'

He wore a suit and dark-tinted glasses. Ailing made the introduction.

"Please allow me to introduce you. This is my father, Li Qinzhen, laoshi, the head of the Triad."

Gyeoul bowed deeply.

"It's an honor to meet you. I am Han Gyeoul, representative of the 「Gyeoul Alliance」. I apologize for not having come sooner."

The old man rose from his seat.

"I am Li Qinzhen. It is a pleasure to welcome such a celebrated young hero. Please, sit."

His return greeting was a cupped-fist bow. Befitting his age, perhaps, or a deliberate show of ceremony toward Gyeoul.

'Both, most likely.'

Gyeoul didn't decline. Somewhat unexpectedly, Ailing had not been given a seat of her own.

The leader asked:

"Have you eaten?"

A question with its answer already decided. Gyeoul shook his head.

"No. Not yet."

The old man nodded.

"A fine occasion cannot be without a proper feast."

Food appeared as if it had been waiting. No better than DFAC rations in quality, but matching that level at all was remarkable. They were clearly working hard not to show how badly things had deteriorated, and the fact that they could still manage it at all spoke to how much the 「Triad」 had left in reserve.

Their etiquette called for keeping weighty topics off the table during a meal. As each course arrived, Gyeoul left a little untouched and praised every dish. Qinjian nodded along and once or twice served portions directly to Gyeoul himself.

The last course was a whole fish. Not something meant to be eaten, exactly. You could, but that wasn't the point.

Gyeoul recalled what Ailing had said.

'Don't worry about the usual formalities, she'd told him.'

And yet here every single one of them was, right on schedule.

Not that it was pure empty ceremony, either. Gyeoul spending this much time here would itself become fodder for the rumors ahead. And it served as a display for the organization's members, too. Even now he could feel the weight of many eyes inside the tent.

"I'm told Han sonsaeng doesn't drink."

A show of how well-informed he was. Gyeoul offered a thin smile.

"That's true. But if you offer it yourself, I'll accept a glass."

Li Qinzhen looked pleased.

'That should be enough flattery for now.'

He held out his glass as the thought crossed his mind. Qinjian poured for him personally.

Li Ailing moved through the tent, pouring for everyone present. Anyone in this room was at least a field captain in rank.

Qinjian rose.

"A toast. To the shared prosperity of the 「Triad」 and the 「Gyeoul Alliance」."

Gyeoul drained his glass in one go. Heat traced the shape of his esophagus on the way down. Strong stuff. Not that he'd feel drunk, just a minor status effect.

His empty glass was refilled at once.

He set it down and waited for the real conversation to begin.

'I'd like to know exactly how much their strength has shrunk.'

Unlikely to find out directly. When it came to unfavorable news, the Chinese way was to talk around it in circles.

Still. The damage was clearly severe. That much was beyond question.

No matter how carefully packaged, summoning Gyeoul here looked like a search for a lifeline. For the 「Triad」, a matter of damaged pride. The rival Chinese organizations would see it as weakness. Holding the top position in the 「Heishehui」 would be that much harder going forward.

He was certain of it. The 「Triad」's most pressing concern was no longer influence, or territory, or face.

It was survival.

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