Abolition of the Wicked - Chapter 9

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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#Episode 9

Jo Cheol-jung asked.
“Is this really the brewery where they make Shigijucho?”
“Shigijucho? Well, I’ve heard people call what we make by that name. Let’s say you’re right—so what?”
Six burly ruffians had ridden their horses right into the courtyard, yet the middle-aged man’s face showed not a trace of tension.
If anything, the corners of his mouth twitched as if he found the whole thing amusing.
“Word is the liquor tastes so good, I thought I’d learn the secret of how it’s made.”
“You want to become a disciple?”
“Honor among criminals and all that—no disciple business for me. Just tell me. And in return, I’ll let you keep that half-bald head of yours instead of making it completely bald. Kahaha!”
The men burst into raucous laughter at the unfunny joke, but the moment hair came into the conversation, Seo Seok-san’s expression hardened.
“Not content with digging your own grave, you crawl right into it yourself.”
Just as Seo Seok-san was about to move, Yeon Geum-hong’s voice rang out.
“Oh! Looks like we have visitors!”
She emerged with a radiant smile, and the ruffians’ eyes went wide.
“Nobody told us there was a beauty like that here! This is what I call having your cake and eating it too.”
Jo Cheol-jung wiped spittle from his lips as Yeon Geum-hong turned to Seo Seok-san.
“Brother, what business do these guests have with us?”
“Brother?! Is this old hag out of her mind!”
“Old… old hag?”
Yeon Geum-hong, who had stiffened at the insult, forced her expression back under control.
“Ho ho ho! Brother, you do love your jokes.”
“You heard everything from inside—what are you scheming?”
“Scheming? Nothing. I was bored, and here come some playthings ready-made. Why not have fun? There’s six of them—three for you, three for me, it works out perfectly.”
“Those bastards mocked my hair—I’m not giving any of them to you!”
“I said there’s nothing we can’t do, not that we can’t have an honest conversation!”
Just then, Jang Man-dok stepped out into the courtyard, moving toward the ruffians.
“Hey! What are you doing!”
Jang Man-dok said nothing as usual. There was only the screaming of the ruffians.
The sound of bones cracking.
Crack! Snap! Crunch!
“Aaahhh!”
The arms and legs of the ruffians tumbling from their horses flailed like broken doll limbs.
The deep hatred that burned in Seo Seok-san and Yeon Geum-hong’s plan to playfully divvy up three apiece both shattered to pieces.
“Jang Man-dok! You can’t just show up and hog all the fun!”
As Yeon Geum-hong shrieked in protest, Seo Seok-san approached the ruffians writhing on the ground.
“They’re still breathing—they’ll pay for mocking my hair.”
At that, Jang Man-dok pointed toward the road.
“What? Say something! Are we Do Pyeong-su or what?”
Since Do Pyeong-su was shadowing Geom U-bin elsewhere, there was no getting through to Jang Man-dok.
Jang Man-dok tapped his own ear with his finger.
“Why your ear?”
Before Yeon Geum-hong could finish asking, she sensed someone approaching the house.
“Oh! Senior must be coming back!”
“Is it already that late?”
Geom U-bin was none too pleased to see this mess.
“Hurry and gag them!”
They hastily pressed acupoints on the ruffians to silence their screams.
“Should we kill them and cut them up?”
Seo Seok-san’s suggestion was vetoed by Yeon Geum-hong.
“We don’t have time for that!”
Yeon Geum-hong glanced about, grabbed one ruffian by the nape of the neck, and hurled him toward the river. Seo Seok-san and Jang Man-dok immediately began tossing the rest of the ruffians into the current.
The six men, unable even to scream, swept downstream and away, farther and farther into the rushing water.
“Huh? Where did these horses come from?”
Time had not permitted them to dispose of the mounts the ruffians had ridden in on.
“Yes? Ah! Ho ho ho! I suppose it’s about time Senior started learning horsemanship too.”
“If you used Lightness Technique, you’d be far faster. Why learn Horsemanship at all?”
Seo Seok-san replied.
“A refined gentleman ought to master at least the basics of Horsemanship.”
“But why six horses? We’ve only got five people in our entire household.”
“Well… it’s good to have a spare on hand.”
“I see, I see.”
Geom U-bin noticed his disciples were hiding something, but she pressed no further.

***

“Jang Man-dok says he needs Mannyeonsamsang.”
At those words, Yeon Geum-hong leafed through the pharmaceutical compendium.
“It’s supposed to be in Gangseong Province or Seonseo Province?”
“Seonseo’s too far. We’d better head to Gangseong next door.”
“Gangseong is closer geographically, but the place that has it is the Namchang Gwon Family.”
“The martial family with Gwon Do-baek as its patriarch?”
Seo Seok-san asked, and Yeon Geum-hong nodded.
“The Namchang Gwon Family isn’t anything so impressive. I’ll go get it myself.”
Do Pyeong-su was already hitching up as if to leave, but Yeon Geum-hong spoke.
“Stealing it would be easy enough. The problem is it’ll cause a stir, and word will spread through Murim. And once that word reaches your brother’s ears, what then?”
Geom U-bin, kind-hearted as she was, would disapprove of such ill-gotten goods. In the worst case, if she refused to use them, what would they do? They’d only be making trouble for nothing.
Above all, what frightened the four of them most now was Geom U-bin’s disappointment.
“Surely such rumors wouldn’t reach your brother’s ears?”
“Every gossip in Hangju gathers at the taverns, and your brother goes around selling liquor to all of them.”
“That’s true. Then… isn’t there a way to take it quietly?”
Seo Seok-san snapped his fingers as if struck by inspiration.
“We don’t necessarily have to be the ones to take it.”
“If not us, then who?”
“Have you heard of the thief who could steal even the Empress’s private jewels?”
Do Pyeong-su recalled a certain name.
“Shintu Ma-o-ryang?”
“If it’s him, he could steal the Mannyeonsamsang without a soul knowing.”
“Do you know where Ma-o-ryang is?”
“I wouldn’t have brought it up if I didn’t. It happens he’s in Gangseong Province.”

***

Of the six men who fell into the river, three were unlucky.
Among those three who bore the misfortune of death was Jo Cheol-jung, who happened to be the younger brother of Jo Man-jung, the leader of the Yagwi Society.
Jo Man-jung stood guard over his brother’s corpse for a long time—bloated and waterlogged until it was barely recognizable.
Just as the fury stacked within that massive, bear-like frame was about to explode, his subordinates arrived.
“Leader. We’ve brought him.”
The man dragged in by the subordinates was Gwak Jeong-man, his arm wrapped in bandages.
Gwak Jeong-man’s face was covered in fresh wounds from what the subordinates had already done to him.
“Who are the ones who killed my brother?”
The Muyeonghoe dominated Hangju’s night, and among its twelve subordinate criminal organizations, the Yagwi Society held the greatest power.
Because of this, it was openly said in Hangju that one should sooner kick the testicles off the King of Hell himself than incur Jo Man-jung’s wrath—and Jo Man-jung possessed a temperament as savage as the rumors claimed.
Standing before such a man, Gwak Jeong-man hardly dared to breathe.
“I asked who killed my brother.”
“Th-those wretches at the Brewery that makes Shigijucho!”
“Those wretches?”
Gwak Jeong-man recounted the scattered events of what had happened.
“Those wretches broke your arms and legs and threw you twenty lengths into the river?”
The summary was so accurate that Gwak Jeong-man nodded so vigorously his neck nearly snapped.
“You bastard! Talk sense! Since when can brewers pull off something like that!”
“I-I swear it’s true! They were so fast I couldn’t even see how my arms broke!”
“Is that so? Then you’re lucky. This time you’ll see clearly as your neck breaks.”
“Brother. You’ve chosen the wrong target for vengeance.”
With a voice as thin as a woman’s came a man—Jo Hae-jung, the third brother.
Unlike his three siblings, he had inherited their mother’s fine, narrow features.
“I’ll kill this bastard and tear out the guts of every wretch at that brewery.”
“If you must kill them, spare us the intestines. Unless you’re planning to jump rope with them.”
“Your second brother is dead, and you crack jokes?”
Jo Hae-jung stared at Jo Cheol-jung’s corpse in silence.
“Revenge is best served with a burning heart and a cold mind. You have the burning heart well in hand—let me provide the cold head.”
Jo Man-jung was the nominal leader of the Yagwi Society, but Jo Hae-jung was the one who truly ran it.
“What he says may be outlandish, but there’s no harm in caution. We should hear from the two subordinates who haven’t yet regained consciousness before we move.”
“How do I know when they’ll wake up? I can’t wait that long!”
Jo Man-jung usually deferred to Jo Hae-jung’s counsel, but this time he refused to yield.
“Then why not take the safe and simple approach?”
“Safe and simple?”
“I’ve learned that the boy who goes around selling liquor is their nephew. We seize the boy and bind their hands first.”

***

Geom U-bin patted the heavy pouch of silver coins tucked into his chest.
“All sold out of that expensive vintage. Hangju must be crawling with wealthy drinkers.”
As Geom U-bin murmured to himself, he pulled his collar tighter against the biting wind that cut through to his bones.
The boy’s hurried steps slowed as an odd feeling crept over him.
The alley that was always thronged with people at this hour lay unusually empty today. Worse, the shops lining both sides had shuttered their doors the moment he appeared.
“What’s going on?”
Then two burly men emerged from the cloth shop on the left.
“You’re coming with us, boy.”
At both ends of the twenty-span alley, hulking figures blocked the way.
“Why, sirs?”
Geom U-bin’s first thought was robbery—they’d spotted the coins. But the man’s next words erased that possibility.
“Once we’ve settled our business with your uncles, we’ll let you go unharmed.”
This had something to do with the Bloodwind Four Lions.
“All right, I’ll go. Senior—don’t interfere!”
The two burly men exchanged bewildered looks. His casual willingness to come along was strange enough, but that last remark made no sense whatsoever.
“Don’t interfere? Who are you talking to?”
“Nothing, sir. Let’s go.”
The two thugs, expressions slack with confusion, dragged Geom U-bin into the cloth shop.
Yeon Geum-hong could only watch from her hiding place.
‘When did he realize we were following him?’
All this time, Geom U-bin had been playing along, pretending ignorance while matching their movements perfectly.
“This is troublesome. They look like the same gang of thugs who came after the brewery.”
Geom U-bin felt little concern.
Mere gangsters—not even true martial artists—posed no real threat to him now.
“They’ve found out we threw them in the river. Well, we did nothing wrong.”
Dragged (or so it seemed) by the thugs, Geom U-bin descended into an underground chamber.
In the center sat an iron chair, and on a table beside it lay hammers, awls, and tongs.
The bloodstains smeared across floor and wall spoke volumes about what this room was used for.
“Welcome. Your first torture chamber?”
A man with a fine-boned, almost feminine face smiled thinly at Geom U-bin.
“I’m Jo Hae-jung, brother of Jo Cheol-jung, whom your uncles killed. Sit down here.”
Jo Hae-jung tapped the iron chair twice. Geom U-bin, running a hand along the bloodstained surface, sat without hesitation.
“From your expression, you still don’t grasp the situation?”
“What I don’t understand is why my uncles killed your brother.”
“Why? Why, you ask? Listen, boy. Sometimes that ‘why’ matters not at all. Your uncles touched someone they shouldn’t have. So what matters now isn’t ‘why’—it’s ‘who.'”
“Then do you know who you’re touching?”
“Bold little thing. Fine, I’ll indulge you. Who exactly are we touching?”
“Tell me the ‘why’ and I’ll tell you the ‘who.'”
This wasn’t mere boldness—it was confidence.
A response only possible if one had solid ground to stand on.
Jo Hae-jung picked up a pair of scissors from the table and spoke. “It seems I was too kind. Since I need proof that you’re in our custody anyway, let’s start by cutting off a finger. I’m feeling generous—you get to choose which one. Just not the pinky. That’s quite useful when cleaning out your nose.”
Geom U-bin, who had been watching Jo Hae-jung with steady eyes, let out a sigh too weary for a child.
“There’s no need to know why. Anyone willing to cut off a child’s finger can’t be a good person. I’ll just tell you the ‘who’—better yet, see for yourself.”
Geom U-bin jerked his chin toward one corner of the underground chamber.

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