Chapter 189 — Jin Garyang
Park Geunsu, whom Youngwoo had been waiting for, did not come.
Sangjanggun Jin Garyang came first.
Youngwoo's gaze stiffened in sudden tension.
The moment Jin Garyang arrived, he poured out curses.
"You bastard. Are you going to keep talking like that?"
It was not worth answering.
When Youngwoo said nothing, Jin Garyang shouted even more.
"Say something, you bastard."
A man like this was a sangjanggun.
Youngwoo clicked his tongue.
"I could not say anything because we were before His Majesty. Your battle merits are high, and now your arrogance pierces the heavens."
Park Geunsu's adjutants inside the office stepped forward to block him, but Jin Garyang swept them aside with one hand.
When he drove his fist into one adjutant's side, the man fell with a choking sound.
Then he could not rise.
When So Cheolun ran over to help him up, Jin Garyang kicked him away.
Cheolun clutched his stomach and bent like a shrimp.
The man had size, so his strength was great.
His head was large and long like a horse's.
His eyes were tigerish, but their ends were split like a wren's, revealing his nature.
The power that followed his bulk was tremendous.
The two men who had been shoved and struck lay thrown into a corner two or three jang away and could not rise.
Youngwoo muttered low,
"Come closer and you die."
But because he spoke with internal force, the sound rang through the office like an echo.
Jin Garyang, who had been approaching, stopped.
What sort of place had this man rolled out of?
He had no sense of before and after.
He had bent his head briefly before the king, but outside that moment he was arrogant beyond measure.
Youngwoo wondered whether he himself might have looked like that to them.
A different method, a different face, a different sound.
To the generals of the Jungbang, Lee Youngwoo of Seonchullyeong must have been a shock.
Rough language.
Leaps beyond common sense.
A distrust of the military organization beyond imagination.
The army, which should have been respected, was no more than a den of demons to him.
Even if his reasons were just, his manner must have been impossible for them to accept.
Youngwoo saw his old self in the reckless Jin Garyang.
It is said that others are one's mirror.
This man forced human relations forward with violence.
If Youngwoo had been a language of refusal, this man was violence.
Good.
He would take that reason and set the matter again.
"Would this be better than a dogfight?"
Youngwoo bent his finger and pointed at the hwan-do hanging at his waist.
Over the armor, the scabbard had been pushed forward.
It did not fall straight beside his waist, but was angled upward and thrust slightly forward.
A bow hung on his back.
To leave space along his back and behind his waist, the hwan-do had naturally shifted to the side and forward.
Because the thickly layered iron armor swelled around his waist, the scabbard did not cling to his body.
The end of the scabbard, pushed outward, jutted forward at length.
Each time he moved, it brushed against the iron plates and made a low metallic sound.
The scabbard cut through the air and swayed in front.
It was a position where his hand could draw at once.
It did not interfere with the bow on his back, and the angle had been set so it would not catch on the armor.
Jin Garyang smiled darkly.
"That is what I wanted."
"I hate whining and scrabbling in narrow places. We are not dogs or pigs."
The words sounded as though they were aimed precisely at Jin Garyang.
His large nose twitched.
"Hm. Good. Dogs are best when beaten."
"Let us go out."
"Good."
"No saying something different afterward. No saying you did not know, or asking who hits with full strength."
"Of course."
At Youngwoo's glance, So Cheolun, who had been lying there after being struck, sprang up like a squirrel and held out a paper.
The conditions for the duel were written densely on it.
The duel is entered voluntarily, without coercion.
No objection shall be raised regarding the outcome.
Defeat shall be acknowledged, and later retaliation is forbidden.
No responsibility shall be placed on the opponent for injuries suffered during the duel.
Treatment and recovery are each person's own responsibility.
Even in the event of death, no grudge shall be held.
Family and clan shall also raise no issue afterward.
No lawsuit shall be brought before the authorities.
The result reached before witnesses shall be followed as it stands.
Weapons and methods shall be limited to the scope agreed upon beforehand.
No fleeing during the duel.
Outside interference is forbidden.
When victory or defeat is decided, the duel shall stop immediately.
The defeated party shall acknowledge the result and withdraw.
No future issue shall be raised regarding office or position because of this matter.
No compensation for damages shall be demanded.
Trickery or surprise shall not be made grounds for complaint.
The principle is not to kill, but the result is each person's own responsibility.
When had Cheolun started carrying something like this?
Had he expected such a situation?
"Sign it."
At Youngwoo's words, the man kept reading.
"Are you illiterate? Why is it taking so long?"
"You bastard."
Ah.
Youngwoo thought he might truly be illiterate.
Jin Garyang read by following the lines with his thick fingertip, then stamped it with his palm.
An ignorant thing, doing what slaves did.
Nobles often disliked personally engaging in buying and selling, so they had slaves stand in their place for contracts. In such cases, slaves stamped with their palms instead of using a signature, and the palm stamp carried the same effect as a signature.
Youngwoo picked up the brush and drew his name stylishly.
It was a signature he had practiced dozens of times.
As his rank rose, he had to handle documents, and there were more occasions when he had to sign.
So he had practiced.
The shape lay somewhere between cursive script and regular script.
He drew a fine circle and wrote his name and mark through its middle and side.
Jin Garyang swallowed.
Youngwoo handed the paper to Park Geunsu's adjutant.
"Let us go."
The man went out, and Youngwoo followed.
The yard directly before the office was fairly wide.
Perhaps word had spread, because people poured out from the rooms lined on either side.
The moment they came out, they took places.
It was a spectacle.
The people of the Ministry of War pushed open doors and poured out in a rush.
Footsteps burst all at once and filled the yard.
Those trying to seize the front row shoved shoulders and stretched arms, pushing into gaps.
One who had come out first sat to claim a place, and a man pushed from behind dropped down beside him.
"Hey, move over there!"
"You are blocking the front! Move to the side!"
Voices burst here and there.
Even while seated, they shoved one another aside, wriggling for better places.
Those who came late stood and craned their necks to look in.
They stamped their feet, waiting for the instant a spot opened.
When one man spotted a gap and slid his body into it, curses erupted from both sides.
"Where are you cutting in?"
"I told you there is a place there!"
In an instant, the yard filled with people.
Everyone strained to move even a little farther forward.
The eyes of the spectators glittered.
Heat rose from the ground as they waited for what was about to happen.
Youngwoo told the adjutant to read the rules of the duel aloud, then walked into the yard carrying the banner spear.
As he walked, he assembled the divided shaft.
It lengthened.
And lengthened again.