Abolition of the Wicked - Chapter 93

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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 93

Se-hwa stood across from Jeong Pyeon-ho with a lavish spread of food laid out between them.
“You seem to have had quite a bit to drink.”
“Hangju is in the palm of my hand—who’s going to say anything if I’m drunk? Come here, I said.”
Jeong Pyeon-ho tapped the empty chair to his left, but Se-hwa didn’t budge an inch.
“Playing hard to get, are we? Do you know how much I’ve already spent here? Fine! Name your price!”
“I suggest you leave now, sir.”
“You’re not listening! I said sit down!”
Jeong Pyeon-ho leaned forward and grabbed Se-hwa’s wrist. But suddenly his center of gravity lurched forward, and his face smashed into the table.
Bang! The dishes shattered, and food scattered in all directions.
“Sister’s got her claws out again. Girls, come over here.”
Jin Ha gestured, and three courtesan attendants huddled around her.
“Damn this woman…!”
As Jeong Pyeon-ho straightened up, eight Hidden Needles shot toward him. They grazed his cheek and ear, piercing through a folding screen before vanishing.
He only realized Se-hwa had thrown them when he felt the sharp sting on his face—she was that fast.
And then something appeared right before his eyes. A Long Needle, more than a foot in length, hung suspended inches from his pupils.
That needle could pierce not just his eyes but his skull.
As Jeong Pyeon-ho swallowed hard, Se-hwa’s low voice reached him.
“You’re a guest only when you’re drinking quietly. Have you forgotten who called you here?”
“I… I remember.”
“I could kill you right now and ask the Cheolhyeol Faction to send another branch commander.”
Se-hwa’s voice was so flat it sent a chill down his spine. It seemed unlikely the Cheolhyeol Faction would dare oppose Oseong Jang-won over such a thing.
In other words, to the Cheolhyeol Faction, their relationship with Oseong Jang-won was worth more than Jeong Pyeon-ho’s life.
“This won’t happen again, I assure you.”
Dignity be damned—he had to live first. His abject submission had bought him his life.
Se-hwa withdrew the needle, and a smile played across her lips.
“Would you like me to bring fresh food, sir? It’s probably cold by now.”
The mercurial nature of women!
“No… no, I think I’ll take my leave now.”
Hangju was paradise. As long as he steered clear of Oseong Jang-won.
As Jeong Pyeon-ho left the Oseong Pavilion, he collided with Hwang Seo-min, who came rushing toward him.
“You—do you have any sense at all? Sitting around drinking at the Oseong Pavilion while…!”
Hwang Seo-min didn’t even finish his sentence before Jeong Pyeon-ho’s fist connected with his face, and he crumpled to the street.
Hangju was paradise. And there was always someone to blame for his frustrations.

***

Namgung Hye-yeon held out a Seonyu Dan to Yeon Geum-hong with a shy expression.
“It’s nothing much, but it shouldn’t harm U-bin’s health.”
A smile bloomed at the corners of Yeon Geum-hong’s mouth.
“A Seonyu Dan? The Namgung Clan holds those quite precious. Did you steal one?”
“What? No, no. Father asked me to bring it.”
Knowing how dearly the Namgung Clan guarded their Seonyu Dans, Yeon Geum-hong found Namgung Hye-yeon’s words hard to believe.
“Thank you. Our U-bin needs to recover quickly.”
“Where is U-bin right now? Will I be able to see him?”
“I’m not sure. He hasn’t been fond of seeing outsiders lately.”
The term “outsiders” stung, but Yeon Geum-hong continued.
“But you’re not an outsider, so wait a moment.”
“Yes.”
Yeon Geum-hong left the Reception Room and headed for the Underground Training Chamber. These days, Geom U-bin scarcely left it, devoting himself entirely to cultivation practice.
The Bloodwind Four Lions were anxious enough—what must the boy himself be feeling?
Yeon Geum-hong opened two doors and entered, then nearly burst into tears at the sight of Geom U-bin.
Ice-Based Internal Power Cultivation brought suffering beyond what any human imagination could conjure. It would be doubly agonizing compared to the ordeal of entering the Great Saint’s Chamber when learning the Iron Blood Art.
So each day, Geom U-bin would be utterly drained, unable to move a single finger. He was in that state now.
His body trembled violently from the cold, yet sweat poured from his forehead like rain.
Jang Man-dok was applying the Chugung-gwahyeol to Geom U-bin. It was all the Bloodwind Four Lions could offer.
He turned to leave without delivering word that Namgung Hye-yeon had arrived, but Geom U-bin asked in a strained voice.
“What… what… what… is… this?”
When communicating with Jang Man-dok or Do Pyeong-su, Geom U-bin relied on expression; with others, he preferred written communication. The stutter that emerged whenever he was forced to speak like this—he hated it deeply. He had come to viscerally understand why Jang Man-dok chose silence.
He understood why Jang Man-dok chose silence.
“Namgung Hye-yeon arrived with the Namgung Clan’s precious medicine, the Seonyu Dan, but it seems we should send her back today.”
Geom U-bin struggled to raise his upper body.
‘No. She came such a long distance for my sake—I should at least meet her.’ It took him half a moment to get the words out.
“But you can barely move.”
Geom U-bin answered only by smiling, signaling that he was fine. He changed into fresh clothes and gathered brush, inkstone, and paper.
When Geom U-bin entered the reception room, Namgung Hye-yeon sprang to her feet. She was startled to see his shaved head, but soon broke into a wide smile.
“It’s been so long.”
“Yes.”
The single syllable came out mercifully without a stutter.
“Should I… no, U-bin. Shall I bring some fruit?”
Geom U-bin shook his head, picked up his brush, and wrote ‘Shall we go out?’ before showing it to Namgung Hye-yeon. Unfamiliar with written communication, she made an odd expression, but soon nodded.
The two left Oseong Jang-won and walked along the riverside. Inside a room, one felt obliged to speak of something, but walking side by side with shoulders nearly touching, sometimes the mere sound of each other’s footsteps was enough.
At a spot on the grassy riverbank, Geom U-bin stopped and plucked a blade of grass.
He wanted to play the grass flute—something he had learned long ago from Seo Seok-san.
When Geom U-bin sat in the grass, Namgung Hye-yeon settled beside him. Words were not necessary.
Geom U-bin played the grass flute, pouring gratitude into the melody. A performance always carries the heart of the player in that moment.
Whether the tune was bright or melancholy, the musician’s self dwells within it regardless.
Namgung Hye-yeon discovered for the first time that a grass flute could produce such crystalline sound. And it was her first time learning that tears could flow while listening.
She turned her head and bit her lip, but eventually soft sobs escaped.
Geom U-bin finished playing and tapped her shoulder. When she turned, she saw written: ‘I’m all right.’
“Yes, I know. You’ll be fine. You will be.”
Geom U-bin smiled, and Namgung Hye-yeon forced a smile in return.
You’re a good friend. Thank you.
That was the last thing Geom U-bin wrote that day. Even as he played another bright melody on the grass flute, Namgung Hye-yeon wept.
Whatever Geom U-bin played now, tears were all that would come from Namgung Hye-yeon.

***

Gwak Bong was startled by what Cho Ja-myeong said.
“What? Jeong Pyeon-ho will die soon?”
“The Jowhang Sega won’t simply stand idle. They’ll hire an assassin.”
“If the Cheolhyeol Faction catches wind of that, it could be dangerous even with all the Jowhang Sega’s money.”
“They’ll be confident they won’t be caught. The contract clearly states they’ll operate the Hangju branch for at least six months, remember?”
“That was agreed upon by both sides without much dispute.”
“We still have four more months to support. And Hwang Seo-min isn’t exactly a patient man.”
“What happens if Jeong Pyeon-ho dies?”
“The Cheolhyeol Faction will dispatch a new operative. A subordinate dies at someone else’s hand—the Cheolhyeol Faction couldn’t simply withdraw. That’s what the Jowhang Sega is after. Killing two birds with one stone.”
“Could you explain that more plainly?”
“In short, the Jowhang Sega is executing a both-lose, third-wins strategy between the Cheolhyeol Faction and the Dong Ssi Do.”
“Why is the Dong Ssi Do suddenly brought into this?”
“The Cheolhyeol Faction established a branch in their own backyard—why would the Dong Ssi Do sit idle?”
“True.”
“The Jowhang Sega made a deal with them.”
“Aren’t you being awfully certain about this?”
“The iron mine in Yeohang County belonged to the Jowhang Sega—anyone with even passing interest in such matters knows this. But suddenly it transferred to the Dong Ssi Do.”
“Perhaps they sold it.”
“The Dong Ssi Do has long coveted that iron mine but couldn’t obtain it—naturally, due to lack of funds. So how did they suddenly acquire tens of millions of taels? My assessment is that the Jowhang Sega gave it to them as the price for ignoring the establishment of the Cheolhyeol branch in Hangju.”
Gwak Bong, rolling his eyes in thought, waved his hand dismissively.
“No, that doesn’t seem right. You’re telling me the Jowhang Sega spent tens of millions of taels to eliminate Oseong Jang-won? If they knew what this place is, they wouldn’t dare attack. If they didn’t know, they wouldn’t spend that much money. Don’t you agree?”
Proud of his own cleverness, Gwak Bong didn’t notice the faint smirk playing at Cho Ja-myeong’s lips.
“Precisely. My conclusion is that the Jowhang Sega isn’t after Oseong Jang-won at all. They certainly believed the Cheolhyeol Faction would sweep us away. From the start, to the Jowhang Sega, Oseong Jang-won was merely a brewery easily erased with enough money. But gifting such a lucrative asset as the iron mine to the Dong Ssi Do—that’s an investment looking far ahead. Would the Cheolhyeol Faction leave Hangju quietly after eliminating Oseong Jang-won? If they even did.”
“Such a thing will never happen, so hypotheticals are meaningless. But if forced to predict… they’re not the type to leave easily.”
“Exactly. They’ve tasted Hangju’s wealth. This is where the Dong Ssi Do enters the equation. The Jowhang Sega withdraws, claiming no further connection to the Cheolhyeol Faction. Two tigers cannot share a mountain, so the clash between the Dong Ssi Do and the Cheolhyeol Faction becomes inevitable, doesn’t it?”
Only then did Gwak Bong grasp the full picture Cho Ja-myeong had drawn.
“So Jeong Pyeon-ho’s death is the killing two birds with one stone for the Jowhang Sega. Eliminate the annoyance draining their coffers, and in doing so, draw the Cheolhyeol Faction’s main force into Hangju. The Dong Ssi Do, with their own territory at stake, can’t simply stand by and watch. That’s clever, I’ll grant you.”
Then he tilted his head slightly.
“And what about Oseong Jang-won?”
“From the Jowhang Sega’s perspective, it’s still just a brewery they can dispose of whenever they wish. If the Dong Ssi Do and the Cheolhyeol Faction tear each other apart, they’ll think it’s not too late to seize Hangju alone and eliminate the estate afterward. The plan may have changed, but the outcome remains the same.”
“The Dong Ssi Do will certainly bristle at this, but will the Cheolhyeol Faction play along? They’re surprisingly cautious by nature.”
“That’s where the lords of Oseong Jang-won and Master Gwak must step in.”
“How exactly?”
“Coerce the Cheolhyeol Faction’s leader into staying put in Hangju.”
Go Dae-bang, leader of the Cheolhyeol Faction, had permitted the establishment of a branch in Hangju precisely because there was nothing to lose.
Better to wager on the side with no downside than to risk fighting an opponent of unknown strength.
But once Jeong Pyeon-ho was dead, the calculation changed. Poking about in search of a criminal would inevitably lead to a clash with the Dong Ssi Do.
A war that could determine the very survival of the Cheolhyeol Faction might erupt. To make him reverse such a decision, the coercion would need to be genuine and forceful.
“Do you believe you can manage it? If it proves difficult, I’ll find another way.”
“No, something like that is nothing.”
It would be absurd to suggest that Oseong Jang-won couldn’t handle a single Cheolhyeol Faction.
The boast had been made confidently, but solo work wouldn’t suffice. Go Dae-bang was confident he wouldn’t lose in a one-on-one confrontation, yet that alone wasn’t enough.
“All five of us will have to move.”

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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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