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Chapter 30
“...Well? Do you notice anything suspicious?”
It had already been a week since the surveillance on Kim Chang-woon began, following orders from the main house.
At the question from the field commander Gu Jeong-hyeok, the monitoring agent hunched his shoulders while staring at the screens.
“N-No, sir! There hasn’t been any unusual activity! Since he’s an illegitimate child of a noble family, I thought he’d be hanging around pleasure houses, but instead…”
“After work, he heads straight back to his quarters. No other behavior of note.”
Narrowing his eyes, Gu Jeong-hyeok muttered under his breath.
“Suspiciously quiet, if you ask me.”
The capital city Hanseong—largest in Joseon—lived up to its name, its scenery shining with brilliance.
Towering skyscrapers arranged neatly in Joseon architectural style, illuminated with disciplined patterns of light. From afar, the entire city looked like a single work of art.
But here… this was Busan.
The greatest port city in Joseon. A hub where countless resources and foreigners arrived in waves.
While it rivaled Hanseong in size, its landscape was starkly different.
Japanese-style buildings rising between traditional Korean houses.
Special districts where migrants from the Central Plains clustered together. Neon signs scrawled in a mishmash of languages.
A city of indulgence—where Joseon culture and foreign influences collided chaotically.
This was the Busan that Gu Jeong-hyeok worked in.
“How many noble clansmen are currently in Busan?”
“Ah—yes! According to our latest count, thirty-four have entered the city.”
“And most of them… what are they doing?”
“Well, uh… they are mostly found in…”
The agent’s voice trailed off for a moment, but only briefly.
“…pleasure houses. Or… illegal gambling dens.”
“Exactly. That’s what most of them are up to.”
Unlike Hanseong, where countless noble families resided, Busan wasn’t much affected by the influence of the nobility.
Which is why, for the hot-blooded heirs of those clans, Busan became nothing less than a playground.
Here, they could flaunt their wealth freely without worrying about family eyes watching over them.
“And yet that brat sits right in the middle of this city, working as if he were some monk who renounced the world.”
Stroking his chin, Gu Jeong-hyeok studied the video feeds recording every single movement of Kim Chang-woon.
“Reviewing the surveillance so far, the chances of Kim Chang-woon betraying us are slim.”
He had already mobilized the Pungyang Cho Clan’s intelligence network to dig into the boy’s past.
He had been targeted by assassins sent by Kim Hyunwoo, barely escaping with his life.
After that, he abandoned most of his family duties and focused on earning money.
And in doing so, he dabbled in the illegal businesses that thrived in Hanseong’s underworld.
Not exactly a model citizen. But at least, there was no reason to suspect him of being a spy for the Andong Kim clan.
And beyond that…
“He’s actually more capable than I expected.”
With Dok Go-seong—who had managed the smuggling routes—dead, the most urgent matter was establishing new trade channels.
And during the past week, Kim Chang-woon had not only worked harder than expected but also displayed surprising talent.
‘This isn’t much. Young Master Cho Seong-hwan sent this personally…’
‘Young Master! You shouldn’t be doing this, really…!’
‘Now, now, refusing goodwill would be impolite, wouldn’t it? So please, just accept it…’
‘Ah, well, if that’s the case… I suppose I must…’
With the “business funds” provided by Cho Seong-hwan, he bribed high-ranking officials in the Censorship Bureau.
‘This cargo container? It’s a medical sample ordered directly by the Pungyang Cho Clan.’
‘Still, we need to confirm exactly what it contains! Step aside at once—’
‘Hah, are you dense? Do you know who I was with last night? Your own department chief. This document carries his signature.’
‘Th-That’s…!’
‘And now a subordinate dares to overturn his superior’s decision? If things fall apart, both you and your superior will find yourselves enemies of the Pungyang Cho Clan. Think you can handle that?’
The few upright officials who tried to inspect the cargo were swayed through repeated threats and negotiations.
Leaning on his noble lineage, mixing cunning rhetoric, and slipping bribes at just the right moments—
Work that would have taken even seasoned negotiators a month was resolved in a single week. His skills had been tested, and the results were undeniable.
Only fifteen years old—and yet this brat handled matters more cleanly than Dok Go-seong, who had survived in this trade for decades.
It was unbelievable, even while watching it firsthand.
“W-We’ve been monitoring him for a week. At this point… wouldn’t it be better to report back to the main house?”
At the agent’s suggestion, Gu Jeong-hyeok nodded slowly. Yet his brow furrowed, as if something still bothered him.
Yes, the likelihood of Kim Chang-woon being a spy for another clan was low.
Under normal circumstances, he would simply send a report to the clan and end the surveillance.
But…
“No. Keep watching.”
Even after a week, there had been no suspicious activity.
Even after digging into his past, there was no reason to believe Kim Chang-woon bore hostility toward the Pungyang Cho Clan.
Even now, his work was smoothing the way for the upcoming cargo transport.
Every piece of evidence pointed to one conclusion: Kim Chang-woon is not our enemy.
And yet, Gu Jeong-hyeok could not shake the unease gnawing at him.
“…Something just doesn’t sit right.”
It felt as if this supposed “rookie” was toying with them.
An inexplicable sense of wrongness—a grotesque dissonance logic couldn’t explain—tightened like a noose around his mind.
* * *
Bwaaang!
“Hey, you crazy bastard! Can’t you drive straight?!”
A driver slammed his horn and hurled curses, only for bizarre words in an unrecognizable foreign tongue to come spewing out from the car opposite.
Japan? Or maybe the Central Plains?
While Moo-yeong wondered, the other driver kicked his door open, shouting that all foreigners should be beaten to death, then began kicking the other car’s door violently.
Bang!
A gunshot rang out.
A bullet fired from the driver’s seat split his skull open, and he collapsed into a lifeless corpse on the spot.
The car then sped away before the police could arrive.
And the citizens who had witnessed the entire thing? They only shook their heads in annoyance and continued on their way, as if this were nothing unusual.
Having seen it all, Moo-yeong simply stood frozen, at a complete loss for words.
“…What the hell is this…?”
The Young Master had warned him, but never had he imagined the place would be this deranged.
Forcing down the dizziness threatening to overwhelm him, Moo-yeong began walking toward the coordinates he had been given in advance.
Unlike Hanseong, where the upper and lower districts were strictly divided, here the slums and the wealthy avenues were a chaotic tangle.
At the end of a street where luxury sports cars shared lanes with forty-year-old rust buckets—his destination finally came into sight.
“Stop.”
A towering guard, his entire body encased in a fourth-grade artificial body, blocked the way.
Moo-yeong handed over the entry pass he had received from the Young Master. The guard’s cybernetic eye scanned between the pass and his face.
Then, his gaze fell on Moo-yeong’s right arm. In that instant, his posture shifted, and he bowed his head deeply.
“I failed to recognize an honored guest. Please, go right in.”
The arrogance from just moments ago had vanished without a trace.
All it took was a glimpse of his artificial limb for the man’s tone and attitude to change.
As always, Moo-yeong found himself thinking—it really was such a simple world.
“We ask only one thing… please refrain from causing a disturbance inside the premises—”
“I have no such intention.”
His curt reply given, Moo-yeong stepped inside as the guard hastily radioed to report his entry.
Guides appeared as if conjured from thin air, while courtesans with bright smiles approached gracefully.
And beyond them—
A sight unfolded that could never have been mistaken for Joseon.
Fuhahaha—!
Ahahaha—!
Amid the waves of laughter stretched a Japanese-style garden, complete with tatami-lined banquet halls.
Cherry blossom petals—nothing more than holograms—drifted down gently from the air. Beneath them, men mingled with courtesans dressed in colorful kimonos, indulging in drinking, singing, and dancing.
This was an entertainment house designed to host VIPs from Japan.
For a moment, the dazzling display threatened to overwhelm him. But regaining focus, Moo-yeong brushed aside the clinging guides and stepped into the elevator.
First floor. Second. Third.
How many more floors did he rise?
Woooong—
The lift finally stopped at the very top. Moo-yeong stepped into the VIP lounge of the establishment.
At the center of the room sat a man, quietly savoring a glass of liquor.
“…Mizutani Ryuu . That’s you, isn’t it?”
At the sound of his own name, the man turned his head toward him.
His figure was obscured by the paper sliding doors, and all Moo-yeong could see was the man’s looming shadow.
Yet that shadow alone made his hand twitch toward the hilt of his sword.
Even seated, the man’s build was easily one and a half times larger than his own.
A frame so massive, it seemed almost inhuman.
“…Good.”
Had the man beyond the paper sliding door sensed Moo-yeong?
With only a short response, he waved off the courtesans around him, scattering them like receding waves.
When the last of them left, only two men remained. Then the one called Mizutani Ryuu slowly rose to his feet.
“Calling my name without hesitation… you must be the guest. The one who came to request something big.”
“It’s not me. It’s the one I serve.”
“Fair enough.”
His massive frame nearly filled the towering ceiling of the top floor.
The shadow beyond the door shifted and writhed as though reaching for the panels themselves.
The moment Moo-yeong frowned at the movement—
Clang!
Steel clashed. Moo-yeong had drawn his curved sword in a blur, intercepting the man’s strike.
Crash! Crash!
The furniture and decorations scattered violently, shattered in the wake of the man’s charge.
What had pressed down upon him was no ordinary weapon—it was a colossal greatblade, its edge easily over two meters long.
“Tch…!”
Grimacing at the heavy impact, Moo-yeong clenched his teeth and fixed his gaze on the man’s body.
His arms were tangled with hydraulic pipes and cylinders.
His torso was armored plating, a power core at its center.
A cyborg.
Among those with artificial bodies, the term referred to full-body replacements—humans who had replaced everything except their brain with machines.
“Fine arm you’ve got there. If it weren’t for your employer, I’d rip it right off for myself.”
“…!”
The man’s eyes—or rather, his sensors—fell to Moo-yeong’s right arm as he spoke, and his voice rang out with an unsettling hunger. Moo-yeong forced his scattered thoughts to steady.
He was here on behalf of the Young Master.
If he let himself be rattled and ruined the deal, he’d have no face left to show.
With that thought, Moo-yeong drew on his aura power, knocking aside the man’s great blade.
Kwaaaaaang—!
In the next instant, his sword swept diagonally, slicing apart the painting behind his opponent.
The artwork, the wall it hung on, and even the supporting pillar were all split clean through.
“…Ho.”
Perhaps impressed by the counter, Mizutani Ryuu bared his teeth in a grin.
Keeping his emotions tightly reined, Moo-yeong spoke coldly.
“I’ve heard the Japanese are rough, but I didn’t think you’d actually draw a blade to my face.”
“Don’t take it too harshly. For us, it’s just a survival tactic.”
Thud!
Driving the massive greatblade into the floor, Mizutani Ryuu sat down heavily.
“When it comes to jobs from Joseon, there’s always dirty business hidden behind them. Cleaning up afterward is my responsibility. But at the very least, I don’t want to work with idiots who’d collapse from something this small.”
“…”
“But still—”
Even sitting, his sheer size rivaled Moo-yeong standing tall.
He raised both hands in a gesture of surrender, showing no further intent to fight.
“You look promising. Worth working with, at least.”
At least he hadn’t been cowed by the show of force.
Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, Moo-yeong lowered his sword. Mizutani Ryuu immediately brightened, his tone lightening.
“Good. Then let’s hear it. The pay’s said to be nothing small—so what’s the target? Just what do you want me to rob?”
The man who had just swung a blade at him now wanted to talk business. Impossible to pin down.
But Moo-yeong slowed his breathing, keeping his composure.
He could not afford to falter.
Drawing a deep breath inward, he spoke with weight.
“In three weeks, a container ship will be docking at Busan Port. We’ll board it then—”
At the words that followed, the optical sensors in Mizutani Ryuu’s head flickered.
“…The cargo belongs to the second-ranked noble house of Joseon, the Pungyang Cho Clan. We’re going to steal it.”
---The End Of The Chapter---
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