Taking The Territory

“Whoa— that’s our Young Master. He goes about things differently from other men.”

Duho set his empty cup down on the table, lost for words. From the look on his face… he had expected it already. The corners of his mouth were turned slightly up. Quick on the uptake, this one, always.

“Not content with getting rid of Black Leopard, you mean to pick his territory clean down to the bone as well?”
“Of course. I can’t have the work done for somebody else’s benefit, can I?”
“True enough. The bear does the tricks and some other bastard walks off with the money — that won’t do.”¹

Duho picked at the food with his chopsticks and snickered. Maybe it came of all those years scraping by at the bottom; he caught on to my plan at once.

Duho set his chopsticks down and spoke.

“I follow our Young Master’s plan well enough. But here’s the thing: it isn’t as easy as it sounds. There are men who’ll come running the moment they hear Black Leopard’s dead. You know which men I mean?”
“The Black Water Gang and the Blood Wind Gang.”

— Snap.

Duho snapped his fingers.

“You do know. The bosses over there are first-rate, every one of them, and they’ve got men by the dozen. This won’t stay a matter among ourselves the way it did this time. Bite down on the Great Saber Gang’s territory just because it looks tasty and you’ll get every tooth in your head knocked clean out, I’m telling you.”
“I know. That’s why I mean to dress it first and swallow it in one piece.”
“And how do you plan to do that?”

Duho narrowed his eyes and looked at me.

“To begin with, the Black Water Gang and the Blood Wind Gang won’t know yet that Black Leopard is dead. The only ones who saw the head were me and Bureau Head Jo Mansik.”
“Now that whets the appetite. Don’t leave it simmering — out with it.”
“Before they catch on that he’s dead, we take in every last one of the Great Saber Gang remnants. Then we tighten things up inside and make the force solid.”
“Take in what’s left of the Great Saber Gang lot and grow it into a force that matches those two? Dress it and gulp it down… that’ll taste very good.”

Duho tipped back the wine in his cup as though enjoying himself.

“Kuuuh— the plan our Young Master’s laid out is a good one. But there’s one problem.”
“What is it?”
“The Black Water Gang and the Blood Wind Gang don’t know Black Leopard is dead, but the lieutenants of the Great Saber Gang look to have caught on. They’re all busy gathering men of their own right now, see?”
“Is that so? How many of them?”
“Four.”

Duho held up four fingers.

Four of them.

More than I expected. Black Leopard had not been dead many days, and already they had caught the scent and started moving. Unorthodox-sect scum. Their survival instinct, at least, is second to none.

Still, each of the four building up a following of his own was a fair headache. Chasing them down one at a time would be a job in itself, and meanwhile it would leave the Black Water Gang or the Blood Wind Gang room to step in. It needed settling fast.

“What realm are they at?”
“Second-rate, all of them.”

I nodded.

That’s manageable.

With Duho or me stepping in, the leaders themselves were no problem. The problem was numbers. For the moment our force and theirs would be about even, but given time theirs would grow past handling. It had to be finished before they banded together.

A quick battle, a quick decision.

Rather than let the fight drag on, I had to drive it hard and fast. In that case there was only one way.

“Which of them has the biggest following?”
“Musam. He was Black Leopard’s right hand.”
“You go under him.”
“What?”

Duho asked, looking as though he had no idea what I meant.

“Go under him and do what? Turn on him?”
“That’s right.”
“Hah— honestly.”

Duho let out a laugh of pure disbelief. He filled his cup to the brim, drank it off in one go, and set it down with a clack. Then he looked me straight in the face and spoke.

“There’s something I’ve been wondering about.”
“Say it.”
“Your house is an orthodox sect, isn’t it, Young Master?”
“It is.”
“And you’re going to hit a man from behind? Is that allowed?”
“It is.”

My flat answer left Duho staring in blank disbelief.

Belonging to an orthodox sect does not make a man clean.

They only kept it off the surface; underneath there was plenty of filthy work. There were some who were worse than the unorthodox sects. And orthodox sect or whatever else, if you could not win, none of it was worth a thing. The man who loses the fight does not get to weigh such things at all. Even benevolence, righteousness, propriety and wisdom are things a man can only weigh once he has won.

The winner takes it all and decides it all.

It was the law of life I learned surviving ten years at Blood Sand Plain.

I drew a pouch from inside my robes and set it on the table. Duho’s eyes fixed on it.

“My fee?”
“No. The entry fee for getting in under Musam.”

Duho opened the pouch and looked up at me. Inside was a night-luminous pearl.

“You’re giving him this?”
“Go empty-handed and he may suspect you. Better to make sure.”
“That’s a mighty expensive entry fee.”
“A bribe works best when it’s more than the man can comfortably take. And once we hit him it comes back into my hands anyway, so there’s nothing to grudge.”
“Give it and take it back. You really are a nasty piece of work.”

Duho shook his head and tucked the pouch inside his robes. From the way he smacked his lips and felt for it through the cloth, he wanted it badly.

Perhaps a little motivation was in order.

“Eat up the Great Saber Gang’s territory properly this time and that pearl is yours.”
“Really?!”

Duho’s voice jumped in surprise.

So he really did want it. His reaction was big enough to startle me too.

“So go and charm Musam properly.”
“Set your worries aside, Young Master! I’ll charm the soul clean out of him!”
“Good, good. Keep speaking to me politely like that from here on. It suits you.”
“Oh, come now, could there be any doubt? Everything the Young Master says is right. Here, drain a cup.”

Duho grinned all over his face and filled my cup. I raised it and drank.

The wine tasted especially good today.

A building in Qingzhou.

Inside it the smell of sweat and liquor hung heavy.

A man sat before a lavishly laid drinking table.

It was Musam, a lieutenant of the Great Saber Gang.

He tore at a chicken leg and looked around him. A good number of his men sat at tables of their own, drinking.

Musam asked the man beside him.

“How many of the boys have we gathered?”
“Around fifty, Boss.”
“Heh heh heh. If they’re coming to me, then the boys know it too. Sticking with me is where the profit is.”

Musam snickered.

And well he might. The others had barely scraped together thirty men apiece, while he already had fifty. At this rate his force might grow to more than double theirs.

“And the others?”
“They’re scrambling to gather men.”
“Half-wit bastards. That’s why they’ll be somebody’s errand boys their whole lives.”

Musam spat a bone onto the floor.

Too late, you sorry bastards. You should have moved faster.

When the rumor went around that an Elder of the Hwangbo Clan had appeared, he had known in his gut that Black Leopard was dead. So he had moved at once, and set about gathering the scattered men of the Great Saber Gang.

The other lieutenants knew he was gathering men too, but they did not move rashly. Nobody was certain whether Black Leopard was alive or dead. Move too soon, and if he turned out to be alive, their heads would come off that same day.

But several days passed and Black Leopard did not appear. Only then did the other lieutenants scramble into motion. That brief difference let Musam break out in front and gather more men than any of them. He smiled and tipped back the wine in his cup.

Just then the man on watch outside came running in, breathless.

“Boss! Duho has come!”
“Duho?”

Musam’s brows drew together.

The man had rolled into the Great Saber Gang not long ago. He could fight well enough, and he had gathered nearly as many men as Musam himself, which made him the rival who grated most.

What’s he doing here?
Has he come to fight? Or come to take my measure?

Musam tapped the table a few times with the chicken leg in his hand, then set it down.

“Tell him to come in.”

He had no idea what the man would say, but he decided to hear him out.

A short while later Duho came in, bowing from the waist, easy and affable.

“Brother! Have you been well these past days?”
“What brings you here?”
“I came because I wanted to see you, Brother. It felt wrong to come empty-handed, so I’ve brought a gift as well.”

Duho drew a pouch from inside his robes and set it on the table. It came down with a weighty sound.

Musam asked him without taking his eyes off it.

“What’s this?”
“Open it and see.”
“Mm.”

Musam loosened the strings, expectant. In that instant a soft light leaked out of the pouch.

“Whoa.”

Musam’s mouth fell open in astonishment.

A bead the size of a fist. A night-luminous pearl. Musam had only ever heard of them; this was the first he had seen with his own eyes.

“Something this precious… you’re giving it to me?”
“It’s a token of my regard for you, Brother.”
“What would a thing like this be worth?”
“It would fetch five hundred taels of gold.”
“Hah!”

Musam let out a laugh of disbelief.

Five hundred taels of gold. A staggering sum, more than he had ever held in his life.

The other men, hearing what Duho said, looked at Musam with envy in their eyes.

“Ahem. I’ll take it with thanks, then.”
“Thank you. Here, let me pour you a cup.”
“Good, good.”

Musam raised his cup with a satisfied look on his face.

Duho laughed inwardly at how fast the man’s guard had come down.

Just as the Young Master said.
If you’re going to bribe a man, bribe him big, he said.
Look at him, tickled half to death.
At this rate I wouldn’t be surprised if his gob split open.

Musam’s mouth showed no sign of closing.

When the wine had gone round a few times and the mood had warmed, Duho came to the point.

“Brother. The truth is, I came today because there’s a favor I’d like to ask of you.”
“If my little brother asks it, I’ll hear anything. Speak.”
“You and I, Brother — what if we joined forces?”
“Mm.”

The laughter went out of Musam’s beaming face.

However close the two forces were in size, his own was the larger by some margin. And with the gap plainly set to widen in time, a proposal to merge could not possibly please him.

The instant before Musam’s expression could turn ugly, Duho got in first.

“You’d take the boss’s seat, of course, Brother, and I’d serve under you.”
“…Is that so?”
“Second place is enough for me. And all this fighting between us only profits the others.”
“Who?”
“The Black Water Gang and the Blood Wind Gang, I mean.”

Musam checked himself.

Duho went on, his face grave.

“The Boss being dead is settled fact. If we’re split up scrapping with each other and that lot come at us, what happens then? We’d have boiled the porridge and handed it to the dog².”
“True enough.”
“What I’m saying is we clear it all up before that happens. You and I put our strength together, wipe out the others, and then rebuild the Great Saber Gang. That’s the only way we can stand against the Black Water Gang and the Blood Wind Gang, isn’t it?”
“Mm…”

Musam stroked his chin.

He’s right.

Caught up in gathering men, he had given no thought to the powers outside. Drag this out and the two forces might well eat him alive.

When Musam raised his cup, Duho was quick to lift the bottle and fill it.

Obliging, and quick-witted enough. He’d be good to keep at my side.

Musam made up his mind.

“Good! From today my little brother and I are in the same boat! Let’s raise the Great Saber Gang up together!”
“An excellent choice, Brother! No — Boss!”

At the change in address, Musam’s mouth stretched almost from ear to ear.

“Hahahaha! There’s never been a day as good as this one. Come, let’s drink!”
“Yes! Let me pour you one.”

Taking the wine from Duho, Musam brimmed with expectation. Come tomorrow, the world would be his.

He did not doubt it in the slightest.

Noon the next day.

I swallowed up Musam’s force, the largest of the Great Saber Gang remnants.