Li Yan maintained his demeanor as he swiftly and silently brought his fingers from the man’s eyelids to his philtrum. He turned away with a deep sigh.
“What’s wrong, Deng,” asked Li Yan.
Deng Tianxiong was a strong and bulky man. The injuries on his body didn’t diminish his overpowering formidability by one bit.
“We got hold of a spy. He could be a Japanese.”
“If he’s just a Japanese spy, kill him and be done. You don’t have to report to me,” answered Li Yan with a cold smirk.
“Have mercy on me!”
Li Yan shifted his gaze to see a man in his thirties clad in a hat and faded blue top. He was so skinny he could barely stand against the wind.
The man was staggering towards them, pinned down by two soldiers.
Li Yan had already cast the Yellow Talisman on six men earlier. Three of them, including Deng Tianxiong, had completely recovered, while the remaining two’s conditions had stabilized and should be fine within a few days.
“This guy was hiding in a barrel. I lifted the cover and his first words were in Japanese,” accused Deng Tianxiong, pointing.
“I can explain!” The frail man exclaimed as he broke into cold sweat, “I am an interpreter that worked for the Chinese government. I followed Lieutenant Cha all the way to Pyongyang.”
Li Yan quickly scanned the man, then asked, “You know Japanese?”
As soon as Li Yan asked about his profession, the man calmed down significantly. He turned his gaze towards the young man who had just asked the question. He was trim with high cheekbones and big bright eyes, and was dressed in a grey half-length traditional combat uniform with bloodstained patches.
The man regained his composure, his pale complexion adding a tinge of elegance to his appearance. He explained, “I have been out at sea with my father since I was young. Not only can I speak Japanese, I can even understand the stupid language of Barbarossa.”
A smile spread across Li Yan’s face. He gestured for the soldiers to let go of the man.
“How should I address you, my brother?”
“I have admired Han Chinese culture since I was young. Our household follows the last name of Song and the given name of Ki. Since I am the second child of the family, following the Kon, Joong, Sook, Gye hierarchy, my name is Song Joongki.”
“What a great name,” Li Yan said as he patted the man’s shoulder. He continued, “Interpreter Song, now that we’re stuck in enemy territory, we are just looking to make it out alive. As we head south, back to our camp, we would appreciate your assistance along the way.”
“That will be no problem at all,” replied Song Joongki as he bowed deeply to Li Yan, holding back his disagreement.
When his cover was lifted, the man thought he had been discovered by Japanese spies and decided to call for help in Japanese. Little did he know he was found by Chinese soldiers.
Although the Republic of China Armed Forces was their ally, many of them were very arrogant towards the people of Joseon. These grunts with brawns and no brains had even considered heading back to their camp while the whole of Joseon was jeopardized by the infiltration of Japanese spies. They had completely underestimated Konishi Yukinaga, who now had power over the whole of Pyongyang.
His gaze fell to the ground beneath his feet. Interpreter Song had his fair share of grudges against the Chinese army and their constant insults about the weakness of the Joseon military, when in fact they too crumbled at the hands of the Japanese. Not only were they digging their own graves here, they were dragging him along with them.
The interpreter managed to maintain a neutral demeanor despite his anger and reluctance to tag along.
The person in front of him looked like one of those merciless, cold-blooded killers who could, and would, behead him if he showed any disagreement.
Li Qin walked right up to Deng Tianxiong and whispered in a low voice, “Tianxiong, watch him. We are in unfamiliar territory, and we need him to make it out of here alive. Kill him immediately if he tries to escape.”
Interestingly, Li Yan never asked Interpreter Song to step away. He actually glanced at the interpreter as he spoke, making sure words like “watch him” and “kill him immediately” could be heard by Interpreter Song, who managed to keep a smile on his face even as chills went down his spine.
In the time it took for a joss stick to burn out, Li Yan’s group had suffered many casualties on the battlefield, coming back with only nine of the original twenty men. Those they left were either dying or unable to move on.
But the remaining were rather tough. When others would have cried or begged for mercy, Li Yan had maintained his cold exterior and Deng Tianxiong had gritted his teeth and pulled through.
Including Li Yan, only seven out of the ten people alive were able to walk, and so they took turns looking after the three injured men. Most were badly injured and would not be able to handle an ambush. If they encountered a spy, Li Yan’s efforts to heal them would go to waste. But even if they recovered in time, they wouldn’t be able to fight off a troop of enemies.
The group of ten men set out towards the foot of the mountain as the sunrise melted off the accumulated snow.
…..
After a few knocks, a man in his forties answered the wooden door, his face full of frost from the cold wind.
Interpreter Song swallowed before speaking in the Pyongyang dialect, “Sir, we are from the Chinese Armed Forces. We’re here to fight the Japanese. Could you…”
As soon as the man heard the word “Chinese,” he shut the door and tried to block it with all his might, frantic. “Go somewhere else, we don’t want any trouble…”
Though Li Yan couldn’t understand the language, he was smart enough to figure out what the man was saying. He pushed the door and said with a cold smirk, “It’s not up to you to be afraid.”
A farmer like him never stood a chance against Li Yan. Li Yan forced the door open with his newfound strength bestowed upon him by the Ubume Bird, and the farmer fell over. A woman in the house screamed in shock.
One by one, the soldiers clad in combat uniform entered the house, most of them armed with bayonets and reeking with the metallic smell of blood. The farmer, who had initially picked up a cleaver to fend for himself, now dropped the knife as his eyes met those of Deng Tianxiong.
There were two females in the house, one older and the other young, probably the wife and daughter of the farmer.
The young girl trembled in fear by the fireplace while the older woman begged for mercy.
“Tell them that we are soldiers, not spies, and our men are injured. We’re just here for a bowl of warm water,” ordered Li Yan, as he watched Interpreter Song with a serious expression, “We’re not playing tricks and not killing anyone.”
Song Joongki then proceeded to help the older woman up and explained to the family for a while before they finally calmed down.
“My fellow men, does anyone have any silver on them?”
The men looked around at each other until a small-framed soldier suddenly said, “My mother gave me this pendant. It’s pure silver.”
The soldier was named Wang Sheng. Though his skills weren’t even 70% of Deng Tianxiong’s combat ability, he was a great detective.
“Bring it over.”
Wang Sheng obediently handed his pendant to Li Yan. Ever since Li Yan had saved their lives, the soldiers had looked up to him and even revered him. They wouldn’t dare go against him.
Li Yan weighed the pendant in his hands; it was definitely of significant value.
He placed the pendant in the woman’s hands, turned toward Deng Tianxiong, and said, “Look around the house for some food, or anything we could use, and take it all with us.”
He moved closer to Deng Tianxiong and continued, “If you find silver, take some of it. Wang Sheng’s pendant was rather hefty, and we can’t take a loss.”
Deng Tianxiong nodded and proceeded to raid the house.
The other men entered the house and sat around the door, careful and alert.
The older woman looked at the silver pendant in her hand and bit into it lightly. She watched as the soldiers entered the house without causing any trouble, then headed to the kitchen.
Li Yan looked at the injured men, worried.
It was going to be hard to get out of this situation.
“Interpreter Song, tell the old man to find us some clothes in exchange for the pendant earlier,” ordered Li Yan. Song Joongki explained it to the man for a while before finally getting two sets of poor quality clothing.
“They don’t have much, just these,” said Interpreter Song with a forced smile.
Li Yan was just about to say something when a captain guarding the door called out in a low voice, “My lord, the Japanese are here.”
Interpreter Song’s heart dropped when he heard the news. The clothes slipped out of his hands but were caught by Li Yan.
“Wang Sheng, help the injured brothers to the kitchen and the others get into the bunkers. Tianxiong, you and I will change into these.” As Li Yan gave orders, the men quickly took their places.
Shortly after, the house was left with the old man and his daughter, Interpreter Song, Deng Tianxiong, and Li Yan.
Boisterous conversation could be heard closing in on the house.
“Bang!”
The wooden door crashed to the ground.
Then men at the door yelled unintelligibly as the old man broke into a sweat.
Two Ronins entered the house one after the other.
‘Initiate: A Strong Impression’
Japanese Spy (Kuroda Nagamasa’s Army)
Skill: Military Combat 70%
Speciality: Shinkage-ryu sword fighting
Japanese Spy (Kuroda Nagamasa’s Army)
Skill: Military Combat 70%
Speciality: Firing bazookas
Two very normal spies rated 70% for their military combat skills… Li Yan furrowed his brows as he thought.
“Hey, you!” An armed Ronin with a receding hairline and bright shining forehead called out to Song Joongki, pointing at him.
Interpreter Song was in a daze when he called out again, “You, get over here!”
The Ronin beckoned him with a flick of his finger. His intentions were obvious, even without knowing the language.
Song Joongki swallowed his saliva as Deng Tianxiong warned, “If you dare pull any tricks, you’ll be the first one dead!”
Interpreter Song walked out with a perfunctory smile and greeted the men in Japanese.
Li Yan was leaning against a water tank with his sword hidden behind it. His gun was hidden in the haystack beside him. Should any of the Japanese men show a change in demeanor, he could attack immediately.
Hearing Interpreter Song speak Japanese, the two men looked at each other unexpectedly, then laughed. The one carrying the bazooka walked up to Interpreter Song and gave him a light tap on his cheek.
“Oh, so you speak Japanese.”
“Just a little.”
The armed Ronin then swept their eyes across the area and asked, “Why are there so many people in your house?”
“They’re guests,” Interpreter Song replied with his quick reflexes.
The other Ronin then stepped forward, “Guests, you say.”
He grabbed the potato Deng Tianxiong had just found and wolfed it down. Then he walked to Li Yan, his black teeth almost on his neck, and said, “Hey, do you speak Japanese?”
Li Yan was in a daze. The Ronin grabbed Li Yan by his collar, compensating for his lack of formidability due to his small stature, and yelled in Japanese, “Omae wa ahoka? (Are you stupid?)”
Li Yan did not respond.
The Ronin puffed out lightly, “Baga (Idiot).”
He swept everything off the table and into his clothes. As he flipped the wardrobe, he laughed, “You knew I was coming today so you cleared your closet huh? How smart.”
The balding man looked around and spotted the young girl curled up by the fireplace.
Deng Tianxiong shot a deadly glare at Interpreter Song who intercepted the Ronin. He said with a smile and utmost respect, “Sir, I know where you can find food.”
The Ronin pulled out his bayonet and pointed it at Interpreter Song’s torso as he threatened, “Get out of my way.”
Interpreter Song stiffened up, and after some deliberation he backed away.
Just as Deng Tianxiong raised his foot, his heel was kicked by Li Yan who had somehow made his way behind him. Li Yan went on to whisper, “She’s not even your daughter, why are you so anxious? Or do you think we made it out here too easily and you need another thrill?”
The two Ronins smiled sheepishly as they pointed at the girl. They discussed for a while before the one with the bazooka approached the girl, licking his lips. The other Ronin stood back and swallowed heavily.
Li Yan stared at the old man calmly.
The old man was begging for mercy in a language Li Yan could not understand. When Deng Tianxiong saw the man on his knees pleading, chills ran down his spine.
Interpreter Song trembled as he glanced at Li Yan, who was completely expressionless, and then at the girl pinned to the ground by the Ronin.
The girl screamed as her clothes were ripped apart and her fair skin completely exposed.
A loud clang came from the kitchen as the older lady ran out with a cleaver in hand, screaming.
“Fuck your ancestors!” Interpreter Song yelled as he lunged towards the Ronin.
A black knife stabbed into Interpreter Song’s thoat. The salty, metallic taste of blood spread in his mouth as the Ronin smirked at him.
A sword gleamed in the darkness. Backhanded Sweep!
Blood burst out of the Ronin’s throat like a fountain. His eyes were wide as he looked at the skinny-faced, long-nosed man in disbelief.
Li Yan mumbled, “Omae wa ahoka? (Are you stupid?)”
The other Ronin tried to reach for his bazooka, but Deng Tianxiong grabbed his wrist tightly. He groaned in pain as he glared at Deng Tianxiong.
As the Ronin lifted his legs to kick Deng Tianxiong, he heard the whirring of a sword by his ears.
Li Yan slammed Song Joongki’s head on the table and berated, “Interpreter Song, didn’t I tell you not to pull any stunts? Or are you so immersed in Chinese culture that you would yell in our language in a life and death situation?”
When Song Joongki was about to attack the Ronin, he had spoken in perfect Chinese. If he had been motivated by pure anger towards the Ronin, he would have naturally used his mother tongue instead.
Even with his head clamped down onto the table, Interpreter Song was unlike the gentle, courteous man he was before. Eyes red with anger, he bellowed in Chinese, “You call yourselves elite soldiers? Elite my ass! What did we get in exchange for our contributions? Three thousand losers from your country! You condescending bastards, who didn’t bat an eye when Joseon women were abused and raped, but act much differently when your own Chinese people are bullied? Are the lives of Joseon people inferior to the Chinese?”
Interpreter Song’s saliva splattered everywhere as his teeth clattered in anger.
Li Yan grabbed the man by his collar and threw him onto the bench. He kicked the bench so that Interpreter Song flew out of it and crashed to the ground.
The bench then came crashing onto his torso. The pain was so intense that he couldn’t speak for a while.
He had put too much effort into salvaging this bunch of soldiers to have an interpreter rat them out like that.
“A lowly grunt like me is in no position to judge the lives of the Chinese and Joseon people,” said Li Yan, holding onto a bowl. He continued, “But I would like to know if you only care about the lives of the Joseon people, and not the Chinese.”
He pointed at the old man and chided, “We put our lives on the line to protect the Joseon people. I wouldn’t have cared if he never let us in and we died in the hands of the Japanese.”
Li Yan grabbed Interpreter Song’s neck as he moaned in pain and gave him a death glare, “That bastard came at us with a cleaver, but begged and pleaded with the Japanese that insulted his daughter like that!”
He then shoved him to the ground and continued questioning, “Let me fucking ask you then, why didn’t he point the knife at the Japanese?”
Blood oozed from the corners of Interpreter Song’s mouth. He was unable to speak as he watched the Chinese soldiers stare down at him coldly.
“You put your life on the line because you want others to quit belittling you. You should let them be the judge of your worth.”