Black Swan Chapter 6

The rebel grabbed the loser’s snow-white hair without hesitation. Before long, screams mingled with white smoke and surged up. Huuuuk, aaaagh, haaaak… Piercing tones, as if a drug-addled composer scribbled them on staff paper at will, burst out continuously from the loser’s mouth. All capillaries burst, turning his face red, and his tongue dropped long down to his chin. Blood trickled from his eyes, nose, and ears. White smoke constantly billowed from his earhole. Before even half of the funnel was emptied, the old loser passed away. Continuing to pour boiling oil into the corpse’s ear, the rebel muttered in a voice filled with regret:

― What? Dead already?

Only after vigorously shaking the funnel to the end to spill every last drop without leaving a single one behind did he release his hand from the corpse’s head. The body dropped with a thud like a matchstick. Down at the corpse as if appreciating a work of art, the rebel burst into wild laughter with an expression like he was going to die of amusement.

― Hahaha! It was merely this much! For the Murder King who killed as many as ten million people over fifty-five years to die from a mere cup of oil! From a mere cup of oil!

The rebel laughed and laughed again. The torch hanging on the wall projected his shadow onto the wall. An absurdly huge and dark shadow distorted by the torch wavered on the wall. At that massive shadow baring its teeth and bursting into laughter, people trembled violently at the shoulders all at once, as if having witnessed the emergence of a monster.

Peeking at that scene, the Prophet, too, was overcome by a chilling premonition. That is the emergence… no, the birth of a monster. It is the birth of a monster.

― What are you doing! We must not let the Grand Prince kill even the tyrant’s legitimate sons with his own hands! If you don’t execute the death sentence right now, I will kill you myself!

Jeung Yeolsaeng drew his sword and roared. Only then did the subordinates move flusteredly, forcing the princes into the cauldrons. Flesh floated about and blood welled up in the boiling water. Horrific screams and a thick stench of blood covered the grand hall. It was a picture of hell.

Trampling the old loser’s corpse under one foot, the rebel watched the deaths of the princes. Occasionally bursting into laughter as he appreciated the picture of hell, he turned around to Jeung Yeolsaeng.

― Hey, pour me a glass of wine. My throat is dry from laughing so much.

The rebel grinned softly. Jeung Yeolsaeng’s gaze hardened stiffly.

The Prophet peeked at many things.

The struggle of human butchers over supremacy of the Western Continent. Hundreds of instances of unilateral mass slaughter committed by the old ruler under the pretext of war. The young snake who once worked the wasteland with human waste and horse dung on his hands. His seventeen-year-old growth, transforming from a young guard officer who always kept his mouth quietly shut and stepped back into a ruthlessly cruel rebel, climbing up to become king. And a man who aided the young snake to join the rebellion. The blood-colored times they forged. Domination and challenge. Plotting and rebellion. Betrayal.

The Prophet peeked at all those futures.

∞ ∞ ∞

The military dogs barked. Yoo Nanoh stared straight ahead and walked with long strides. The sentries raised a salute.

“Patriotism!”

“Patriotism!”

Unlike the energetic voices, the air floating around the barracks was as bleak as a deep grave. Plum trees were scattering thick fragrance everywhere in the barracks. Suddenly, Yoo Nanoh stopped in his tracks. The gaunt plum petals scattering in rustling showers into the darkness caught his gaze unusually today.

It was a quiet night. For now, that is. Perhaps tomorrow night might be even quieter than tonight. Because corpses have no words. The sentries shouting salute slogans at the top of their lungs right now, the comrades who endured together in this hell for seven years, and perhaps, even Yoo Nanoh himself might turn into corpses without exception tomorrow night and fall into silent silence.

It was the point when Mukso, who had been eyeing the Eastern Peninsula for seven years, finally gathered his full strength and set up camp in front of the border line. Mobilizing a million-man army exposed Mukso’s thoughts clearly like a transparent fishbowl. Fitting for his nickname ‘Murder King’, Mukso was planning to drag this land completely into a pit of blood.

Damn snakes. Having a filthy lot of numbers!

Yoo Nanoh grimaced and walked toward his superior Lee Hwanmae’s quarters. Electric lamps softly illuminated the window of Lee Hwanmae’s quarters. It was a green lamp hung up only after a whole 23 hours.

A green lamp means Lee Hwanmae permits others to enter his room. A red lamp is hung up when he is asleep or wants to be alone. While the red lamp was hung up, even Yoo Nanoh—Lee Hwanmae’s half-brother who was notorious as a ruthlessly cruel murderous demon—could never enter the room.

“Patriotism!”

“Patriotism!”

Private First Class Ryu Hopi and Major Cho Younghyun saluted Yoo Nanoh. Recognized as Lee Hwanmae’s limbs since their Hwado Academy days, they were assisting him close at hand here as well. Yoo Nanoh asked:

“When did he wake up? How about his meal?”

“I don’t know the exact time, but the light turned green roughly an hour ago. He turned away his meal this time as well.”

At Ryu Hopi’s answer, Yoo Nanoh slightly furrowed his brow. This time as well?

“Understood. You guys head back and rest now. Handle your meals on your own.”

At Yoo Nanoh’s words, Ryu Hopi and Cho Younghyun stepped back to both sides.

The Mae-Ran-Guk-Juk Division guarding the frontline of the border was the elite special unit where only a small number of vicious survivalists selected in top secrecy were deployed. Lee Hwanmae was the supreme commander who held the absolute trust of those Mae-Ran-Guk-Juk members. If it became known that their leader often skipped meals unable to handle the pressure, the members would be greatly shaken, so the meals turned away by Lee Hwanmae were always handled secretly by his closest aides. It had already been four years since this pathetic business continued.

“Then we will leave first, Division Commander.”

Ryu Hopi packed the food tray, bowed his head, and turned around. Yoo Nanoh stared blankly at Ryu Hopi’s back as he hurried away. A time when he whispered a promise to Ryu Hopi on a clear moonlight night like tonight flashed before his eyes.

― I can smash anything that blocks our way. I promise. To protect you and make you happy until the day I die.

He couldn’t believe that time was already seven years ago. Yoo Nanoh firmly engraved the pledge he had made hundreds of times a day during those seven years in his heart once more.

I keep my promises, Cat. Just like back then when I blew off the skull of that monster who dared block our way, I will definitely keep my promise this time too.

His throat burned as if scorched by charcoal. Yoo Nanoh bit his lip tightly as he entered Lee Hwanmae’s quarters. Was it because the nation’s downfall was imminent? Unpleasant memories he no longer wanted to recall were playing out in his mind as they pleased.

As expected, the root of all this trouble is Wang Hui. If only that old man hadn’t betrayed us…

Seven years ago when Mukso began revealing his ambitions of invasion in earnest, the two nations of the Eastern Peninsula secretly established a cooperative system. The strategy adopted after much deliberation by the joint army leadership of God❨神❩ and Ryun❨侖❩ was using barbarians to control barbarians. Defeating an enemy with another enemy. The person whom the joint army leadership took note of as another strong enemy to defeat Mukso—the king of the formidable enemy ‘Usaguk’—was Wang Hui. The king of ‘Ilhwaywolguk❨日和月國❩’, one of the four kingdoms ruling the Western Continent.

At that time, Lee Hwanmae—who was Lee Hwa’s proxy—secretly sent an envoy to Wang Hui to hand over an imperial decree: ‘I am Lee Hwa, the great king and Prophet of the ‘Country of God’. If you drive out the snakes from our border, I will lend you my wisdom until the day you unify the Western Continent.’

Wang Hui accepted the proposal. As promised, Lee Hwa helped Wang Hui with his foresight, and Wang Hui kept Mukso in check. The secret collusion broke down in three years. Wang Hui became arrogant, thinking he could defeat Mukso and stand at the apex of the Western Continent even without Lee Hwa’s help. Yoo Nanoh argued that they had to send an envoy to persuade Wang Hui. Lee Hwanmae snorted.

― Sending an envoy is useless! God said He has already peeked. He gave me a revelation that in one year, Wang Hui’s head will be severed by Mukso’s blade. It’s a proper price he pays for plundering another country’s storehouse.

To butter up Wang Hui, the Eastern Peninsula side had even suffered a loss by promising to dump grain into ‘Ilhwaywolguk’. To secure the grain to pour into ‘Ilhwaywolguk’, both nations of God❨神❩ and Ryun❨侖❩ had to sweep up all domestic grain. Naturally, public sentiment revolted fiercely, to the point where large-scale protests protesting against the government broke out in Ryun, where political freedom was relatively guaranteed.