WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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Chapter 144: Great Calamity 【Great Floo■ of the ■■■】 (10)
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Gunshots.
Two shots rang out through the rain. From the direction of Upper Hamlet.
Inside the Meokbawi Valley guard post, Han San sprang to his feet like lightning.
He gathered his gear and reached for the doorknob. At that moment, the companion beside him grabbed his wrist.
“Father.”
“They’ll be here soon.”
Han Man-seok’s eyes were fixed on the window.
Han San gritted his teeth. His grip tightened around the doorknob, then loosened.
In the days since they had sent Jaeseok and the others out, the Han father and son had made all sorts of preparations.
That was why they knew. They had known.
They knew, but still.
Han San looked toward the village, toward Upper Hamlet where the gunshots had come from, then toward Middle Hamlet, where his home and mother were.
He could not help it.
His father spoke to his son.
“Trust them.”
Han San looked at his father. At the father who had grown sturdy as a bear. At the father holding a 22 Long Rifle in one hand, with a small hand crossbow he had made himself slung over his back.
Han San believed.
In his father. And in all the people he had met.
He believed every one of them was doing their part somewhere in this rain.
“Yes, Father.”
The moment he answered, Han San and Han Man-seok both felt their bodies tense.
As though by prior agreement, their eyes turned in the same direction. Into the distance. Up above.
There was something above Meokbawi Valley.
They could not see it. The night was dark, moonlight blocked by the clouds. The rain was only growing fiercer.
But the water mist rising there was different from the mist elsewhere.
Father and son looked at each other. Everything passed between them in that glance.
They opened the door at the same time.
Into the driving rain and wind, the hunter father and son stepped outside.
At the same time.
Middle Hamlet.
“Fuck! What the hell are those idiots doing...?”
The instant the gunshots rang out from Upper Hamlet, Kim Gun-ok, Baekbaekgyo’s Great Magistrate, ground their teeth.
Kim Gun-ok was currently heading for the Han estate with eight men. Only two were their subordinates. The rest were Old Woman Wangdae’s palanquin bearers.
Park Il, the bald, thick-lipped leader of the palanquin bearers, glanced at Kim Gun-ok.
“You can’t even handle one simple task properly.”
“Shut up!”
Kim Gun-ok did not dare talk back to Old Woman Wangdae. But they had no intention of bowing to this palanquin bearer either.
More than that, Kim Gun-ok could not understand why they were even here doing this in the first place.
Beating Father Cho into submission had been necessary. They could vent their anger, restore their authority over the remnants, and seize Father Cho’s wealth while they were at it.
Then Old Woman Wangdae had suddenly appeared with a tiger...
“What do you people even want?”
Park Il answered shortly.
“A rite.”
“What kind of rite...?”
“One for the king.”
Kim Gun-ok swallowed. Every breath sent the pouring rain brushing across their nasal passages.
A king? What king was he talking about?
Baekbaekgyo’s judgment of fire and judgment of water were just nonsense to fool peasants into handing over offerings. Jeon Yong-hae, that bastard who had never even gone to school, had made the whole delusion up on his own.
The Great Magistrate, do-yusa, Thunderbolt Masters, Yeongchunsa, fairies, the judgment of fire, judgment of water, and refuges... They were all flowery trash piled on top of that delusion to sell it.
‘But these people...’
When they had buried their face in the mud on that rainy mountainside, Kim Gun-ok had seen [the real thing] for the first time.
“What exactly are you people after?”
Park Il simply repeated himself.
“A rite.”
Kim Gun-ok felt they had not received an answer. The new leader of a fake cult could not understand true fanatics.
A wall came into view.
The Han estate.
The headman’s house, surrounded layer upon layer by every house in Middle Hamlet last summer.
“Fuck...”
As the chief Thunderbolt Master who had dragged countless people into refuges, Kim Gun-ok instinctively readied themself for work. Pressing close against the wall, they peered through the rain into the estate.
A young man was wandering around the courtyard.
The rain hid his face. Only his height, silhouette, and clothing stood out.
Leather trousers and a coat.
“Han San...!”
Kim Gun-ok called out quietly. When Han San had come to Gyeongseong, Kim Gun-ok had watched the Silver Fox’s movements and seen that outfit from far away as Han San entered Military Police Headquarters.
Park Il furrowed his brow. Something felt off.
‘Is it because I haven’t seen him in a while?’
Since last Chuseok, he had rarely visited Sebeom Valley because he had been wandering around outside while attending Old Woman Wangdae. Still, he remembered Han San’s age.
Eighteen last year, nineteen this year. A man not yet twenty could look different after only a month apart.
‘But his height, build, and stride...’
The thought passed in an instant. Kim Gun-ok and Park Il looked at each other, then made their decisions.
“Get him!”
“Attack!”
Kim Gun-ok and the Thunderbolt Masters, Park Il and the palanquin bearers, all charged into the courtyard at once.
“W-What the fuck is this?!”
[Han San] looked flustered.
The moment they heard that voice, both Kim Gun-ok and Park Il were certain. It was the same voice, with the same tone.
But after surrounding [Han San], Kim Gun-ok, Park Il, and their men merely exchanged glances, unable to rush in recklessly. At last, Kim Gun-ok gave the order.
“What are you idiots doing? Get him already!”
“Y-Yes, Great Magistrate!”
Kim Gun-ok’s subordinate squeezed his eyes shut and charged at [Han San]. Afraid a counterattack might break something, he did not dare grab him. He merely crouched down and rammed his body into [Han San].
“Ugh!”
Absurdly easily, [Han San] was knocked rolling across the ground.
Kim Gun-ok looked bewildered.
“...What? He was this pathetic?”
Even then, the men piled onto the fallen [Han San]. Two palanquin bearers twisted his arms, forcing [Han San] face-first into the dirt.
Only then did Kim Gun-ok step closer, grab his hair, and inspect his face.
Narrow eyes and a lean face.
What had looked like a solid build through the mist was just cotton and wooden boards stuffed inside his coat.
Which meant...
“Was it Myo Yeongchunsa? No, fuck. I heard you stabbed Gyeong-deuk in the back and went into hiding. Why the hell are you here?”
Kim Gun-ok ground their teeth. The narrow-eyed man with his face in the mud shouted proudly.
“Who are you calling Yeongchunsa? I am Myo Gang, a man of crimson loyalty!”
“What the fuck?”
The instant they asked, Kim Gun-ok realized it.
A decoy.
But that realization came one step too late.
Bang!
Kim Gun-ok collapsed. As their body fell, water splashed up across the area it struck.
The main house door stood open.
A middle-aged man stepped over its threshold with a pistol in hand, concealing his lower face behind a folding fan painted with Clearing After Rain on Mount Inwang[1].
The Lord of Inwang Gang, Imok.
Then men carrying guns and hwando swords[2] emerged from the main house, kitchen, storehouse, men’s quarters, and every other corner. Park Il, the palanquin bearers, and the Thunderbolt Master lackeys who had surrounded Myo Gang were themselves surrounded by armed men.
Sang-jun glared with a Murata hunting gun in hand.
“You bastards dare rob my sister-in-law’s house?”
Park Il bared his teeth. With the face of a trapped animal, he roared.
“Inwang Gang...!”
Imok closed his folding fan.
“Leave only one alive. Behead all the rest.”
And so it was done.
As the one-sided slaughter unfolded, Ham Ssang-sim, the hunter’s wife, stood on the kitchen threshold and watched.
She did not look away.
This was her own courtyard. Before her husband’s leg was injured, before they came to Gangwon, she had seen her husband’s comrades.
Soon, the gunfire stopped.
Men in white and palanquin bearers lay scattered across the courtyard. Only Park Il remained, kneeling with bullet holes in his arms and legs.
Ham Ssang-sim lifted her skirt and stepped into the courtyard. She crossed the muddy ground thick with blood and went to the young man who was still down.
“Gang, you’ve worked hard. Hurry inside.”
“I truly did work hard, Madam Grand Sajang!”
Myo Gang sprang to his feet, his face caked in mud. He took out a handkerchief to wipe his cheek, then stopped when he saw that it too was covered in mud.
“My wit! My loyalty! Please, please make sure the sajang hears about them!”
“All right, all right. Didn’t I tell you San would know all about it? Byeong-cheol! Bring a towel, quickly!”
Ham Byeong-cheol rushed outside with a towel. His buck teeth were chattering as he looked back and forth between the bodies in the courtyard and the armed men, but he somehow managed to hand the towel to Myo Gang.
“A-Auntie. T-Those people... they’re all...”
“A grown man, making such a fuss. Go boil some water in the kitchen already.”
Just then.
“Mother! Mother, are you all right? Why were there gunshots here too...?!”
A voice burst out from beyond the wall. The people who had been in Upper Hamlet came rushing down in a crowd, led by Im Baechil.
Im Baechil’s mother, who had been sitting in the main house drinking tea, waved her hand.
“Son! Don’t worry. Your mother is safe.”
“Mother! Mother...”
At his mother’s answer, relief washed over Im Baechil’s face.
It did not last long. His expression soon crumpled as he began to sob.
“M-Mother! Please come to Upper Hamlet! Someone, someone... Yun Cheom-ji was shot...”
“Oh!”
Baechil’s mother set down her teacup and rose. Two boys and a girl picked up the medical box and bundles already packed beside her.
They were children from the Ham family’s side who had shown talent for medicine and escaped the drying racks. They now worked as nurses under Baechil’s mother.
Baechil’s mother set off with the medical apprentices.
“Sister Ssang-sim.”
Ham Ssang-sim started to nod, then thought she could not simply send them away like this and turned to Imok.
“Elder...”
“Lord Han has retired from office, so you may address me comfortably.”
Imok spoke, then glanced at the Founding Meritorious Subjects lined up in the courtyard.
“We shall take charge here.”
With his folding fan, he split the men of Inwang Gang into two groups.
“You will escort them and prepare for any unforeseen situation.”
His sharply outlined eyes then turned to Sang-jun.
“You will take the remaining half and go assist Lord Han and his son.”
“Yes, Elder.”
Sang-jun accepted the order.
Half of Inwang Gang surrounded Baechil’s mother and headed for Upper Hamlet. The other half followed Sang-jun toward Meokbawi Valley.
Left alone, Imok looked down at Park Il.
Old Woman Wangdae’s chief palanquin bearer seemed to have accepted his fate, his head hanging low.
Imok spoke.
“Have you anything to submit?”
“Madman.”
Park Il panted. Coughing up blood, he smiled miserably.
“What’s with this royal ‘we’ and all this submitting memorials? You crazy bastards who do nothing but sell drugs.
“You’re just a troupe of clowns. People avoid you only because that clown troupe carries guns and travels together.
“What? A king?
“Imok, you lunatic! Do you even bear the surname Yi? Do you know what a king is?”
Park Il glared at Imok and growled.
“The true king will rise. From the north. Through this rite. From the stars!
“When this land’s waist splits, we will be in the north, and the king will build paradise above it and guarantee ten million years of glory!”
Imok opened his folding fan and covered his lower face. Through the intensifying rain, the mountains and rivers painted on the fan looked faint as a dream.
“When dreaming of paradise, a dynasty makes a fine pillow.”
Imok spoke.
“That is why every royal ancestral shrine must eventually see its incense extinguished. Because the time always comes to wake from the dream.”
Park Il ground his teeth. He wanted to tell Imok that they were the ones who needed to wake up.
But Imok spoke first.
“That is why We cultivate opium poppies.”
Park Il flinched.
Imok continued.
“Rather than spread fire to create paradise on earth, when that day eventually comes, Our friends and We will simply lie down in a field of flowers and fall asleep.”
Park Il was speechless.
But Imok’s gaze had already moved beyond him, toward Meokbawi Valley.
Han San and Han Man-seok came out of the guard post and stood in the rain.
Flash.
Lightning struck.
As the world flickered, high above them, the Great Tiger looked down on the hunter father and son with glowing eyes. For that one moment, the scene was preserved in black and white.
Footnotes:
[1] Clearing After Rain on Mount Inwang, or Inwangjesaekdo, is a 1751 landscape painting by the Joseon artist Jeong Seon, famed for its view of Seoul’s Mount Inwang.
[2] A hwando is a single-edged Korean sword traditionally worn by soldiers and officials in late Joseon.
Footnotes:
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