Episode 18. Rain and the Man of Steel (1)
Jeon Poong and Han Go-wook suddenly found themselves afraid of Ilyang County itself.
Everyone here seemed, in some way, a little lacking—off, loose at the seams. But the more time passed, the more that looseness started to feel strangely terrifying.
When Madam Son said nothing, Jeon Poong finally had no choice but to explain himself.
“He never said to kill us. Not once. If you don’t believe me, go back up and ask.”
Cha Seong-tae, looking unconvinced, asked Madam Son,
“Then why’d you come out?”
She answered with a bored expression,
“To get some air. Keeping my mouth shut was suffocating me.”
“Did he say to send them off?”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
Cha Seong-tae finally stepped aside.
“Then see yourselves out.”
Jeon Poong and Han Go-wook walked quietly through the crowd of Ilyang’s roughnecks, lips clamped shut.
Behind them, Cha Seong-tae called out,
“Let’s have another drink next time.”
Jeon Poong replied,
“There’ll be no ‘next time.’”
Later, Cha Seong-tae came to me, clearly worried.
“Is it really okay to let them go like that?”
If we’d handled things the way he was thinking, Black Rabbit Gang would have swarmed this place within a few days.
The Twelve Zodiac Generals squabbled amongst themselves, sometimes joined forces, sometimes backstabbed each other. They didn’t have the spare bandwidth to pour attention into some backwater town.
And the scariest man in these parts wasn’t even one of them, but the master over their heads: the Great Rakshasa.
No need to draw his attention just yet.
Not that I needed to explain all that to Cha Seong-tae.
“With how drunk they were, they’ll be too scared to report honestly. They’ll fear punishment more than they want revenge. Guys who make a living shaking people down are quick at math.”
“Mm. That makes sense.”
“Anyway, things in Ilyang should quiet down for a bit. I’m going back to training.”
“Where?”
“Wherever…”
I went on,
“Confiscate all the Jo brothers’ property and manage it yourself. For now, you’re acting general manager of the Hao Sect. If you embezzle public funds, I’ll dismiss you, so keep that in mind.”
Something about that sounded ominous even to him. He probed cautiously,
“And if I’m dismissed… what then?”
“If you’re dismissed, you’re executed.”
Cha Seong-tae’s eyes flew open.
“Executed if I’m dismissed? Since when is that a rule?”
“I’m the sect master. Sect masters make the rules.”
“…”
I patted him on the shoulder.
“Congratulations on the promotion, General Manager Cha. Have a celebratory drink.”
I poured him a cup of third-grade Du-gang. He stared at the ceiling, then forced it down.
“Ugh. Third-grade…”
“Our General Manager Cha is competent. I know you’ll do well. I can trust you, right?”
“Ah, yeah.”
“Why do you sound so half-hearted? You want to be dismissed?”
“N-no. This is great. I’ll work hard. I don’t want to die.”
“Good. I’ll back you up later and they’ll be calling you Ilyang’s First Sword, Cha Seong-tae. Or was it First Blade? Anyway, just trust me.”
He answered in a deflated tone,
“I use a saber too…”
“Fine, Ilyang’s First Saber it is. Don’t worry about Black Rabbit Gang either.”
In my previous life, every one of the Zodiac Generals that survived eventually ended up on their knees in front of me, getting slapped around.
We weren’t there yet this time, so I just needed to buy time.
I stood, thinking of getting some hangover soup.
“Let’s work hard.”
“Yes, see you later.”
Cha Seong-tae sighed, poured himself another cup of Du-gang, and drank.
“I’ll just… finish this bottle.”
The bitter taste of the martial world filled his mouth. He’d been promoted, but all he felt was an inexplicable sense of melancholy.
Maybe it was because his superior was younger than him.
The martial world is rough…
Or maybe it was because said superior used to be a tavern boy.
Leaving the pleasure house, I wandered through the streets of Ilyang, taking in the scenery without much thought.
I walked, looked through shopfronts, and walked some more.
Some ordinary folk glanced at me; those who’d heard I’d killed the Jo brothers stared like they couldn’t believe I was alive.
Whatever they thought didn’t matter to me.
As long as the everyday lives of ordinary people stayed intact, I planned to keep walking these streets.
When I reached Chunyang Noodle House, Yongdu Forge’s Geum Cheol-yong was inside, eating noodles alone.
“Uncle Geum.”
He nodded and gestured to the seat across from him.
“Looks like you’ve already had a drink. I heard you come here often, so I decided to try it. I don’t usually step near the pleasure district. Not because I’m afraid of my wife, mind you.”
“Of course not.”
Jang Deuk-su, the owner, asked,
“Want me to fix you a bowl?”
“Noodles for me too.”
“Got it.”
Geum Cheol-yong set his empty bowl down and said,
“So you really killed them all. Jo Il-seom, Jo Yi-gyeol, and Jo Sam-pyeong. As promised, let’s have that next conversation.”
“Let’s.”
He frowned slightly, worried.
“Won’t Black Rabbit Gang come down on us now? If they do, a lot of our young men will die. Do you have a plan?”
I understood his concern well. In my previous life, he’d been the loudest voice against paying tribute.
“They won’t come right away. And even if they do, if a fight breaks out, this was all my doing. Everyone else should be fine.”
He tilted his head.
“You can handle it alone?”
“Yes.”
He shook his head.
“Hard to trust bravado. You sure you haven’t got a master somewhere, or some hidden expert you met?”
“Think whatever you like. You’ll find it hard to believe most of what I do from now on anyway.”
“Strange times. A tavern boy from Jahak Inn killing all three Jo brothers… no wonder it’s hard to believe. Anything I can do to support you?”
“There is, but I don’t know if it’s something you can actually do.”
He laughed.
“So we still don’t fully trust each other. Say it anyway. Those bastards have been a thorn in my side for years. Least I can do is help out without asking for anything in return.”
I thought for a bit about what to ask of him.
“I think the hardest kind of weapon to make is one that feels light in the hand but is sharper than anything else. What do you think?”
He nodded.
“That’s what we call a famed sword. Sabers are a bit different. They usually need some heft to match the saber arts. Fighters who train both inner and outer strength tend to favor heavy blades. Some say that once you reach a certain level, you don’t need weapons at all—but that’s a bit unrealistic.”
“Has Yongdu Forge ever made a sword or saber worthy of being called a ‘famed blade’?”
“Of course not.”
“Why not?”
He answered cleanly,
“Well, ‘it doesn’t pay’ is the easy excuse. But say word gets out that we forged a famed sword. Who do you think would buy it? Some expert worthy of such a blade. And what if that expert’s a notorious underworld figure? Or one of the Zodiac Generals hears the rumor? You think they’ll pay full price and leave? We’d be lucky if they didn’t kill everyone at the forge and walk off with it.”
“Mm.”
He wasn’t wrong.
“And say we do get lucky and manage to sell it at full price. What happens after that?”
“The buyer’s rival, or some other dark-world expert, comes knocking to threaten you into making them an even better one.”
He grinned.
“You know your stuff. Forging excellent weapons and gaining a reputation means tying yourself to some very dangerous men. More often than not, you build bad karma, not good. People know what happens when a famed weapon suddenly appears in the martial world—everyone who wants it kills and gets killed over it for a while.”
“So you’ve deliberately stayed away from famed blades? Sounds like a coward’s excuse.”
“There are many ways to live. Some chase fame. Others value survival. Yongdu Forge has been around a long time because we’ve always stuck to making decent weapons for decent money. We’re just trying to make a living. What’s so great about reputation?”
He chuckled and asked Jang Deuk-su,
“Deuk-su, don’t you agree?”
Deuk-su nodded.
“I do, sir.”
Geum Cheol-yong tapped his empty bowl with a finger.
“Look at Deuk-su’s cooking. The place is shabby, but in Ilyang his food is the best. Now imagine he takes a job as head cook at some famous noble house. If that house gets caught up in a clan war and wiped out, Deuk-su dies too. He’d die because of his skill. It’s the same for forges like ours. Stories like that are everywhere.”
I nodded.
“Point taken. Anyway, what I want you to make isn’t…”
“Like I said, no famed swords…”
“It’s not a sword. And I’m not asking for a ‘masterpiece’ or anything like that. Just hear me out.”
“Go on.”
I took a sip of broth before continuing.
“I don’t need it to be sharp. It doesn’t need to be light.”
He replied,
“Then it’s no masterpiece.”
“Exactly.”
“Then what in the world do you want me to make?”
“I’m giving up on sharpness. Weight doesn’t matter either. All I want is a weapon that doesn’t break, doesn’t bend, doesn’t snap—no matter what it hits.”
He folded his arms, signaling he’d listen carefully.
I went on,
“For example, I’d be fine lugging around a giant chunk of cold iron. That’s why I’m willing to give up sharpness and lightness. I’m not asking you to make some legendary treasure. Just something no famed sword can easily cut. Crude, rough, doesn’t matter—so long as it’s pure toughness. What I want, in the end, is something like the Ruyi Jingu Bang that the Great Sage Equal to Heaven used.”
At that, his brows knitted together.
“Like the Ruyi Staff?”
“More or less. Whether it’s a staff, a cudgel, or a spear, I don’t even care what form it takes. The shape doesn’t matter. All I care about is that it’s unyielding.”
“And what do you plan on doing with it?”
“Training, of course. I’m trying to become a man of steel myself.”
In this kind of atmosphere, I couldn’t exactly say “steel tortoise.”
For a while, none of us said anything—Geum Cheol-yong was lost in thought, and Jang Deuk-su stayed quiet so as not to intrude.
After some time, Deuk-su glanced outside and said,
“It’s raining.”
The three of us fell silent and watched as the rain began to pour down in sheets.
A noodle shop owner, a former inn boy, and a man who lived his life handling steel all stared at the falling rain for a long time.
In moments like this, words weren’t really necessary.
For a brief while, I forgot about the martial world and simply watched the rain come down.