Abolition of the Wicked - Chapter 14

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

#014

“Ten silver coins each?”
“Yes. You can manage that by tomorrow?”
The Bloodwind Four Lions nodded without hesitation.
“Of course. But where will you spend that money?”
Geom U-bin smiled at Seo Seok-san’s question and answered with one of his own.
“It’s your first time earning money honestly, isn’t it?”
If one didn’t interpret the word “honestly” with deliberate bias, Geom U-bin was right.
“I suppose you could say that…”
“I hope the money my disciples have earned through honest toil will be spent on something worthwhile. If you give me ten coins each by tomorrow, I’ll make sure your earnings are used that way.”
Seo Seok-san spoke up.
“You could just take it all and spend it however you like.”
“That won’t do. The disciples should go out into the world and live like ordinary people, spending their money as they see fit. Ahhh! I’m exhausted—I need to get some sleep. See you tomorrow.”
The moment Geom U-bin left, Do Pyeong-su held out his hand to Seo Seok-san.
“Seok-san, give me ten coins.”
“Hey, what about your money? Oh—you said you gave it to Shintu as a commission fee, right?”
“How was I to know he wouldn’t need money and then ask for it? Come on, hand it over.”
“No.”
“What? No? You’re refusing to give me a measly bit of coin?”
“Measly? That’s money I earned through sweat and toil!”
“A passing cow would laugh at you. When did you ever work up a sweat earning anything? Yeon Geum-hong, you give him some.”
“Why should I?”
“W-why? Can’t you just give it to him?”
“If I dug ten feet into the ground, I wouldn’t find a single copper coin. You think I’m just going to hand over money I earned through honest work—”
“All of you—have you formed a pact to become misers? Forget it!”
With anyone else, Do Pyeong-su would have had full confidence they’d give willingly.
But the moment he saw Jang Man-dok’s expression, his faith crumbled like thin ice on a spring morning.
“Man-dok, even you! All of you! Did I squander four hundred coins for nothing? I paid that sum to cover the cost of stealing the thousand-year cordyceps for you, and now you won’t spare ten measly coins?”
Seo Seok-san picked at his ear with his pinky finger as he spoke.
“That’s your concern. If you’d just given one frown like you usually do, that would’ve been enough. Why hand over money?”
“Because there might be plenty more things to steal in the future! Drop it—just be honest with the master and pay back twenty coins next month!”
As Do Pyeong-su turned to leave, Yeon Geum-hong’s voice struck his back.
“What do you think the master will say if you tell him you spent four hundred coins as payment to a thief for stealing something?”
It seemed as though Geom U-bin’s voice echoed in his ears: ‘I’m disappointed, disciple.’
“You all—you think I can’t scrape together ten measly coins? I could get a thousand coins right now if I wanted!”
“Of course you could. Just go to some place like Dongsi Casino or Western Note House and throw your weight around—it’d work easy enough. But what did the master say a moment ago? Something about money earned through honest toil… what was it he said exactly?”
Yeon Geum-hong picked up where Seo Seok-san left off.
“That he wanted honestly earned money to be spent on something worthwhile, I think? The ‘honesty’ the master spoke of probably doesn’t include robbery.”
“You—you cunning devils!”
“Did you mean that as an insult?” asked Seo Seok-san.
The corner of his mouth twitched as if a laugh were about to burst out.
“Just you wait! I’ll remember this!”
Do Pyeong-su yanked the door open roughly and stormed out.
Just as expected, the moment he left the room, the laughter of three people rang out loudly.
Do Pyeong-su returned to his quarters in a state of agitation, but beneath his anger, worry crept in uninvited.
Ten silver coins.
It was worth no more than a pebble lying in the street—and yet now it felt as desperate as a boy scraping together medicine money for his dying father.
Tossing and turning through a sleepless night, Do Pyeong-su left the house before dawn. If he didn’t produce ten coins, Geom U-bin would ask why, and he would have no choice but to tell the truth.
The thought of seeing disappointment cloud the master’s face was something he dreaded even in his dreams.
‘I’ll find the money no matter what!’
When Do Pyeong-su reached the streets of Hangju, diligent merchants were just opening their shop doors. As he wandered slowly down the street lined with shops on both sides, he stopped in front of an inn.
A notice was posted on the inn door with characters about hiring or some such.
He couldn’t read the remaining three characters, but the first character appeared to be “hiring,” suggesting it was a job posting.
‘Heh heh! So studying writing with the master paid off after all.’
Do Pyeong-su walked confidently into the inn.
The innkeeper, who’d been yawning widely at the counter, looked at Do Pyeong-su with a vacant stare.
“That sign says you’re hiring, doesn’t it?”
The innkeeper, a man in his early fifties, examined Do Pyeong-su from head to toe with an expression of utter bewilderment.
“Suppose so.”
“I don’t have time for a long-term position, but I can work for a day. What’s your daily wage?”
“How much are you asking?”
“Ten silver coins. You can manage that, can’t you?”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“What, what is it?”
“It seems I’ve stumbled into some strange riddle from the moment this morning opened.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Did you come here to play word games that all end with ‘-right’? No matter how I look at it, you don’t seem like someone who came to work.”
“Of course I came to work! I’m asking what the daily wage is!”
The innkeeper let out a long sigh, pressing down his anger.
“One hundred and fifty copper coins a month—you do the math yourself.”
“Let’s see, one hundred and fifty copper coins a month means per day… what? Only five copper coins?”
“Once I see how you work, in about three months I might raise it to ten copper coins or so.”
“You’d hire me at a price like that? How long would I have to work to save up ten silver coins!”
“One silver coin is worth eight hundred copper coins—you can do that math too. If you don’t spend a single coin and save for ten years, maybe you’ll have it?”
“Let’s not do this. How about we make it ten silver coins as the daily wage? You just don’t know—I’m easily worth that much.”
The innkeeper waved his hand dismissively.
“All I need is the bare minimum value! No more, no less—now get out of here!”
And so Do Pyeong-su was thrown out of the inn.
After that, he wandered through cloth shops, butcheries, hardware stores—everywhere he went, he was treated like a madman.
“What is this? Why is earning money so hard? It’s only ten silver coins.”
Time crept on, dragging Do Pyeong-su’s deepening despair along with it, until the hour passed noon.
Growwwl.
His stomach was empty too.
But he didn’t even have enough money to buy a single dumpling.
The great Do Pyeong-su, starving for lack of money!
The urge to reveal his true nature surged up like a violent flame—but each time it did, the thought of Geom U-bin rose unbidden, dousing the fire with cold water.
“Ten silver coins, ten silver coins, ten silver…”
Chanting the words like a prayer, Do Pyeong-su’s steps suddenly faltered. It was as though ten silver coins had just flashed before his eyes.
Or rather, the written characters for ten silver coins.
Do Pyeong-su’s head whipped around.
A notice board at the Government Office came into view. Several papers were posted there, and on one of them he could make out the numeral “10” alongside some characters.
“The two characters at the front are definitely silver coins, aren’t they? The number after is the amount.”
It was rare that Do Pyeong-su could read all of the characters—but the rest of the notice remained utterly incomprehensible to him.
“Hey, old man!”
Do Pyeong-su called out to an elderly figure passing by.
The old man stopped, looked around, and then lifted the walking stick he’d been leaning on above his head.
“This disrespectful youngster! Calling an elder ‘old man’? You want to taste my stick on a rainy day until dust flies from it?”
Do Pyeong-su couldn’t afford to waste time arguing with someone who looked thirty years younger but insisted he was past ninety.
“Oh my! Respected sir, it seems your hearing might be a bit sharp—I would never dare speak so carelessly to someone of your standing! Ha ha!”
Desperation brings out strange behavior.
Humans are truly creatures ruled by circumstance.
“But what does this notice here say? I’m illiterate, you see…”
“What’s there to brag about being illiterate?”
The old man glanced at the notice once and let out a long, elderly sigh.
“There’s a man called Cha Dae-in on Yang Ga-ro. A good-hearted gentleman who retired from office.”
The old man’s tale was long-winded, but the gist of it was that Cha Dae-in’s youngest daughter had been assaulted by someone.
Since the incompetent Government Office hadn’t caught the culprit, this man Cha Dae-in had posted a reward himself—a staggering ten silver coins.
“Sigh! That villain deserves universal condemnation—they ought to be caught soon. That poor girl was so lovely and good-natured. Tsk tsk tsk…”
“You wouldn’t happen to know what the criminal looks like?”
“If anyone knew that, someone would’ve caught them already.”
With no leads to follow, he couldn’t afford to let slip an opportunity to earn ten silver coins.
“Do you happen to know the underworld figures who run this neighborhood?”
“Those vicious thugs—why would you ask?”

***

For reasons no one could explain, the Yaguihoe had vanished—and in that void, the Hongmun Society rose by default to become the largest branch of the Muyoung Society.
Beyond sheer numbers, the profits were substantial; they inherited more than thirty percent of the territory the Yaguihoe had managed.
With revenues swelling, Kang Chan-sik, the leader of the Hongmun Society, took to spending his afternoons at the Wolha Pavilion, where he could drink sweet liquor that clung to his palate like honey.
That evening was no different—he sat with Wol-hyang-i at his side, glass in hand, until dusk thickened into night and he finally stumbled to bed.
Then he jolted awake.
A fierce pain lanced through him, but sleep still clung to his mind; he couldn’t tell where or how he was hurt.
It took six blinks before he realized he wasn’t sprawled on a mattress—he was propped against a wall.
“You sleep like a corpse. Remarkable.”
A man in a chair across from him swam into focus.
Middle-aged, with sharp eyes and a weathered beard, he had the kind of face you’d hire as a muscle—hard, dangerous, unremarkable.
“Who are you? Where’s Wol-hyang-i?”
“She’s asleep on the bed. I used a Pressure Point Technique on her—she won’t wake for two hours, even if you threw her in a river.”
Kang Chan-sik had spent forty years in the underworld.
He’d brushed with death countless times; today was simply another near-miss in a long catalogue.
“Do you know who I am?”
“Kang Chan-sik. Leader of the Hongmun Society. Correct? Or you die.”
The threat was delivered with practiced ease.
“You’ve done your homework, at least.”
The man rose, retrieved a sword hanging on the wall, and settled back into his chair.
“You keep a fine blade for a gangster.”
Shing!
The sound of steel leaving its sheath raised every hair on Kang Chan-sik’s neck.
“Talking to someone like you disgusts me, but I need ten silver coins—so I have no choice.”
“Ten coins? You can have them.”
This was no ordinary man.
Kang Chan-sik decided against rash combat; he’d escape this trap first, then hunt the man down and strip him bare later.
But then—
Ting!
The man flicked the sword’s tip with his finger, and a clean note sang out as something whistled past Kang Chan-sik’s ear.
Thunk! A blade fragment, snapped off to the length of two finger joints, buried itself in the wall.
‘He broke the blade… with his finger?’
Not just broke it—he’d driven the fragment through solid stone.
And that sword had cost ten silver coins; it was a Ming Blade, no cheap copy.
‘A master.’
A true master of the Murim—rare as a red crow—stood before him now.
“Sir—Master—why are you doing this? If you need money, I can give it to you at once. Not ten coins—I can offer fifty… no, five hundred coins.”
“I don’t want dirty money. I need ten clean silver coins.”
“I’ll wash them for you myself.”
Ting! Thunk!
Another blade fragment lodged itself beside his right ear.
“Do you know Cha Dae-in? He lives on Yang Ga-ro?”
A household that had become infamous for reasons everyone whispered about.
“Yes, I know of him.”
“You’re the one who assaulted his daughter.”
“What? I’ve never even seen that girl’s face.”
He’d lied as easily as dust fell his whole life, but this time—this moment—he spoke pure truth.
“Interesting.”
Another fragment flew and struck.
This time, it came perilously close to something he couldn’t afford to lose.
Only as the blade settled did Kang Chan-sik realize he was naked.
“Nearly missed. Let me correct that.”
The man flexed his fingers, readying to flick again.
“W-wait! Master, please—tell me what you want! I’ll do anything!”
“Anything?”
“Yes!”
“I have a habit: anyone who changes his word, I castrate. Without mercy.”
Kang Chan-sik’s manhood shriveled to nothing, invisible beneath his skin.
“Find me the man who assaulted Cha Dae-in’s daughter.”
He’d said ‘anything,’ but Kang Chan-sik was no magistrate—and he’d spent most of his life as a criminal, not a catcher of them.
“How… how am I supposed to catch that bastard?”
“A bad man knows a bad man well. I’ll give you two hours. Bring me the criminal. If you don’t catch him, you become the criminal. Don’t think of going back on your word once you’ve brought him to the Government Office. You’ll learn what hell feels like even while alive. And don’t forget to bring evidence along with the criminal.”
The middle-aged man swung his blade through empty air.
The blade shattered into hundreds of metal fragments that embedded themselves around Kang Chan-sik.
This wasn’t just a master—this was a supreme master!
“I’ll be waiting near the Government Office. Two hours.”
The middle-aged man departed.
But Kang Chan-sik couldn’t even think of running. Against someone like that, escape was impossible. He knew it instinctively.
“Damn it all! Why is this happening to me!”
Wol-hyang-i didn’t stir at his shout. She truly wouldn’t wake even if she drowned.
‘Just drown her and be done with it!’
But there was no time to indulge his anger. Kang Chan-sik called for his trusted subordinate, Wang Dae-pal.
“Dae-pal! Hey! Dae-pal!”

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————