The Hunting Dog of the Prestigious Family Has Returned Chapter 42

Chapter 42

“It was a flawless plan.”

The leader of the Hahoe stood before my very eyes.

For a moment, I froze in disbelief—but only for a moment. Soon, a voice flowed out from behind the mask of a Yangbantal, carrying a bright smile with it.

“A plan that caused division among the Noble family while keeping your own existence hidden. Thanks to that, not even the Noble family will realize that the Hahoe were involved in this matter.”

It was a voice completely different from the old man’s voice I had just heard.

And it wasn’t only the voice that had changed.

The white scholar’s robe he had been wearing, the black suit beneath it—even his height and body frame.

Everything that had composed the old man was now entirely different from the first time I saw him.

“The matter of General Yu Sang-hyeon was the same.”

While I was still caught off guard by the transformation, the Yangbantal continued, bringing up an earlier operation.

“Not only did you save the very woman who posed the greatest threat to their power, but you also made them believe she was dead and completely concealed her.”

“……”

“At this moment, you’ve accomplished not one, but two monumental feats that will change the future of Joseon.”

I couldn’t tell if that tone was praising me or interrogating me.

“How could all of this have been possible?”

The Yangbantal turned toward me, voice dropping slightly, as though demanding an answer.

Without hesitation, I opened my mouth.

“Because I am one of the Noble family.”

And truly, that was the case.

Here I was, a member of the Andong Kim Clan, secretly plotting a revolution to overturn the very system of Joseon itself.

Worse yet, I had deliberately fueled strife among the Noble families, driving the affairs of powerful families into utter ruin.

Even Kim Junghun, for all his cunning, would never have suspected it.

“That’s only a secondary reason. The real reason lies elsewhere.”

“The real reason?”

With a clicking sound, the images of the convenience store customers around us shifted.

People now stood there wearing the same kind of mask as the Yangbantal, each dressed differently, all staring at me.

It was grotesque, like a scene torn from a horror film.

“Kim Chang-woon. You were born into the highest stratum of Joseon.”

So began the Yangbantal’s words.

“Even if your family refused to acknowledge you, you were born a noble. You never knew how the lower classes of Joseon lived, nor did you ever need to know.”

And he was right.

Even if my clan ignored me, I never starved.

Even if my family despised me, I still carried the status of belonging to a noble clan.

And that wasn’t all.

I had received the best education wealth could afford.

I wielded sums of money at will that commoners couldn’t even imagine in their wildest dreams.

The suffering of the common folk, the pain of the people?

That had always been a matter of another world—something that never had anything to do with me.

“You have no reason to change Joseon.”

“How could I not?”

So after all that theatrical atmosphere, this was nothing more than an ideological test.

I gave the prepared answer without missing a beat.

“Even so, living as an illegitimate child is no easy fate. To survive among the lofty noble, I had no choice but to do things like this…”

“Lies.”

It didn’t work.

The Yangbantal cut me down in a single stroke.

“If your purpose was merely survival within your clan’s power structure, then it would be far more beneficial to pledge loyalty to your clan and raise your position. Someone with your sharp mind could not possibly be unaware of that.”

As he spread out his hands as if to say, “Am I wrong?”

‘He’s right a hundred times over.’

I sneered inwardly, bitter.

That was exactly why, in my past life, I had started out as Cho Seong-hwan’s hunting dog.

That was how I’d been recognized for my abilities. And in the end, under the excuse of “handling the Noble family’s dirty work,” I carried out all manner of vile deeds.

Because, back then, there was no better choice available.

“Then why is it that you so desperately support this revolution? Why would someone with no connection to it throw himself so recklessly into an impossible cause?”

“In that case, allow me to return the question.”

This would take some explaining.

I fixed my gaze on the Yangbantal and spoke.

“For hundreds of years, the position of the Noble family has never changed, and their era continues unbroken.”

“……”

“The investigative net of the Royal Investigation Bureau is tightening every day, and the Hahoe—who once acted across the nation—are now reduced to little more than a shadow operating within the capital itself.”

Two successful operations had opened the floodgates, and yet the Hahoe were still withering away.

The reason a high-ranking officer had come personally to someone like me—an illegitimate child—must have been because of that.

They were simply that desperate.

“That is why I must ask you this.”

I questioned the Yangbantal, who shook his head as if I had struck a nerve.

“With things having deteriorated to this extent, why do you still stake your lives on a revolution that has no chance of success?”

There could have been many answers.

They could have spoken of their will to change this rotten world.

They could have appealed to the grievances of the common folk crushed under the Noble family.

Or, if not that, they might have recalled an oath sworn long ago.

But before I could even finish cycling through countless possibilities in my mind—

“Because we have nothing else left.”

A completely unexpected answer spilled out from the Yangbantal’s mouth.

“We have despaired at a world that never changes, raged at those sitting in the royal court who laugh at us, and endured for hundreds of years. Yet now, we are so weary that even recalling our original will feels shameful. That is what our troupe has become.”

“……”

“And yet, we are people who cannot live any other life.”

The Yangbantal spoke with a trace of regret in his voice.

“Do you know how many years have piled up to bring us here, how many comrades’ corpses have been scattered along the way? The blood of those who went before us makes up who we are now. How could we possibly turn our backs on that blood and seek another path?”

“……”

“That is why we continue to strive to change Joseon.”

Could it be that, even now, he still saw the dead before his eyes?

The wrinkled hands of the old man trembled faintly.

“We have come too far to stop now.”

Come to think of it, in my previous life, the Hahoe never joined the Iron Tiger Corps’s revolution directly.

No—they couldn’t.

I recalled the Reception Ritual not long ago.

Originally, the Hahoe had launched a desperate assault there to rescue Yu Arin, only to be completely purged and disappear in the process.

‘So that suicidal mission… it had this kind of hidden truth behind it.’

A struggle spanning hundreds of years.

A world that never changed, comrades dying one by one.

Enduring storm after storm until, in the end, they were exhausted.

And so, they sacrificed themselves to rescue Yu Arin.

They would break and shatter rather than bend. For the sake of a future revolution, they chose to destroy themselves.

So they would not feel shame when speaking the names of their fallen comrades.

And what about me? No, I was different.

Instead of changing the world, I had changed myself.

I hadn’t fought against malice—I had compromised with it.

And beyond that, I had lived as their spearhead.

That was my choice, and that way of thinking had not changed even now.

Because surviving by attaching oneself to the strong was nothing more than common sense.

And now, here I was, orchestrating a revolution in Joseon.

I had saved Yu Arin, a descendant of royal blood. I had killed Cho Seong-hwan and driven a wedge into the powerful noble factions.

The reason? Simple.

‘If you know the outcome of a match, it’s only natural to bet on the winning side.’

I knew the revolution would succeed.

I had seen the future where it triumphed. I had seen them burn the world, and I myself had been consumed by the very flames they ignited.

And because I did not wish to meet the same ruin as in my past life, I now sought to become one of them.

That was all.

Nothing more than a bat, leeching off the side that promised greater gains.

That was why I could never understand their will.

This decaying, festering world—beyond stability and into rot.

And yet, there they were, casting aside their lives as if they were nothing, simply to try to change it.

I could not understand them.

“Don’t make such a complicated face, I’m not scolding you.”

Sensing my thoughts had grown heavy, the Yangbantal’s demeanor shifted at once.

“It’s just… it’s been so long since I’ve met a noble who shares our ideals, this old man was uncharacteristically spooked. My apologies.”

The menacing look of interrogation softened into that of a benevolent elder.

It was uncanny—how tilting the mask and shifting the shadows alone could create such an array of expressions.

“And now that I say it… I must confess, I am very grateful to you.”

“……Grateful?”

When I looked at him with questioning eyes, the Yangbantal replied with an easy smile.

“Thanks to you, our troupe managed to land a heavy blow against those Noble families’ bastards. Because of that, new energy has returned to our band. Many are overjoyed, saying we’ve finally poked a hole in their impregnable fortress.”

“Ahh.”

No wonder some of the Hahoe officers had suddenly grown warmer toward me.

“That’s why I’m all the more curious.”

The Yangbantal slowly continued.

“A boy so young, yet with this much ability and potential—why is it that you chose to begin something as hopeless as revolution?”

It was a natural question.

One does not simply dream of revolution without a reason.

‘If I told him I came from the future and already saw the revolution succeed, he’d only think I was insane, wouldn’t he?’

“This revolution will succeed.”

Once I settled on my answer, I looked the Yangbantal straight in the eye.

“That is why I throw myself into it.”

The Yangbantal gave no reply—only watched me silently.

To stake your life on a revolution that has no chance of success, and then say it’s because it succeeds…

What sort of foolish riddle was that? Where else in the world would you find such nonsense?

And yet, I could say it with greater confidence than anyone else in Joseon.

Because I knew how their revolution would unfold.

What they would come to know, what they would seize.

What they would not know, what they would lose.

And in the end, how they would burn the nation of Joseon to ashes.

I alone knew it all.

“Noble politics will fall.”

So I simply spoke the truth.

Not a single lie.

Only the knowledge I carried within me.

“It will happen without fail.”

****

Beep.

“That’ll be 1,200 won.”

“The price suddenly dropped to half?”

“Please don’t look at me like that. The owner gave the order.”

Finishing his brief conversation with the smiling clerk, Kim Chang-woon walked out of the convenience store with both arms full of snacks. Judging from his words, it seemed he intended to share them with the children at church.

“How does it look?”

As he quietly observed his back, a tall figure emerged from behind the Yangbantal.

It was Imetal, Hahoe’s strongest combat operative.

He had been cloaked in optical camouflage from the start, standing guard at the elder’s back.

“Our collaborator will need a new mask.”

A new mask.

As if tracing the weight of those words, the Yangbantal spoke again.

“Grant him clearance to access information two levels higher. Provide additional equipment as well. And if necessary, arrange meetings with the ‘Patrons’ stationed across the provinces.”

“I will prepare it without delay.”

With a deep bow, Imetal left.

And soon, agents disguised throughout the hideout gathered toward the Yangbantal.

Halmi. Jung. Tteokdari. Gaksi. Bune). Seonbi. Baekjeong.

One by one, countless masks converged around him.

“I will not tell you to set aside your doubts. Each of you must reach your own judgment of that boy.”

At his words, the masked operatives bowed their heads in unison.

The Yangbantal looked over them, recalling the conversation he had just shared with Chang-woon.

‘Noble politics will fall.’

‘It will happen without fail.’

Not a hint of hesitation, not a trace of doubt.

A conviction that even the Yangbantals of generations past—who had fought the Nobles for centuries—had never dared to declare so boldly.

Was it pride in his own ability?

Or merely the reckless arrogance of youthful fire?

At this moment, none could say.

And yet—

“In my younger years, I would never have dared utter such words aloud. And yet that child speaks them with unwavering certainty.”

As he finished speaking, the Yangbantal slowly drew something from within his robes.

A notebook bound in the style of the Han, a paper volume so archaic it would not have looked out of place in a museum.

“Year 327 of Gwangmu. —Month —Day, Gihae.”

A small drone, holding a brush, floated into the air. It began recording the Yangbantal’s voice onto the aged paper, line by line.

“The bloodline of our sworn foe opens its mouth, and the flickering embers of countless flames feel shame before it, as though dying hearts have been rekindled.”

As the Yangbantal spoke, his words were etched carefully, one character at a time.

“To speak as a monk once said: even in the filthiest mire, a flower still blooms. How fitting. For within the seed sown by the usurper lies the dagger that will pierce his ancient heart….”

Like a man vomiting out centuries of bitterness, his voice poured itself into the pages.

Speaking what had been witnessed, weaving it into words.

Recording it, and passing it on to the generations yet to come.

For the Hahoe, this was more important than anything else.

It was their duty—inseparable from the very history of this nation.

“The historian makes his record.”

The voice of the old man was carved into the paper.

In that calm voice lingered a heat he had not felt in a very long time.

---The End Of The Chapter---

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