The vulgar man sat behind bars in the courtyard of the Investigation Bureau. It was just a matter of distracting the guard. Cheol’s connection to the earth grew stronger, as he searched for a vine, a branch, a root, anything. Cheol had lived with this Gift all his life, but he still failed to understand exactly how it worked. It was another sense, in a way. He couldn’t see the complex network of roots underneath him or every part of the chaotic natural world around him, but he could sense it, call out to it, and it did his bidding better than any human servant.
For now, all he needed was a small distraction to pull the guard’s attention away from the prisoners. The tree beyond the gate of the courtyard shifted as if a person had climbed down from it. A loud thump followed the rustling, and the guard’s attention was pulled to the entrance. He disappeared around the corner, following the phantom trespasser. Breaking into a prison shouldn’t be this easy.
Cheol hauled himself over the wall and jumped down, his landing silent. It reminded him of the past, of hiding from his father for all those years, of helping his people from the shadows rather than from the comforts of the throne.
His purposes tonight deviated from his usual escapades. Cheol reached the vulgar man’s cell. The man had his back to the wall, his head hung low, his hair coming loose from its topknot. Those ugly old clothes were dirtied from the filthy cell. And while it was gratifying to see him in such a poor state, it did nothing to quench Cheol’s fury. From his bag, he pulled out a metal lockpick. He’d picked so many brass locks in his life, he could get one open in seconds. It was just a matter of putting enough pressure on the spring to force it open.
“Who are you?” the vulgar man asked.
The lock opened with a click. At least, the cloak was doing its job. The man had yet to recognize him. “Remain silent.” Cheol straightened and pulled the lock out. He pointed east. “Run toward the forest as quickly as you’re able. From there, I will help you relocate.”
“Huh?” the man said, his brows knitting together as he got ready for a fight. “Why should I do that. I’ll be let out tomorrow.”
So noisy. Cheol laughed, lightly. “Have you no clue who you attacked a few hours ago?”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
The man let out a squawk of protest. “I didn’t attack him. That damned son of a bitch got his boy toy to crush my hand.” He lifted his hand, and Cheol noted with satisfaction that it was deformed and swollen, the skin stained purple and red from the bruising and swelling.
“You attacked a consort to the King. When word reaches the court, you will be hanged for your crimes.”
The man stared at him like he’d grown two heads. “What?”
“You know why he left this place. Did you think there would be no consequences for your actions?”
“And who are you?”
Cheol didn’t bother restraining his grin. “A friend.” He could hear the footsteps of the guard growing closer. “We do not have much time. It’s up to you whether you want to leave or stay.” Death awaited him in either case. But a court-sanctioned death just wasn’t quite as fun.
. . .
Cheol left the man to make his own choice, and in a few hours, he saw him racing toward the forest. Going by the panic in his eyes, he’d believed Cheol’s story.
Cheol leaned against the trunk of the tree, the rough ridges of the bark not all that unpleasant against his back. A slight breeze blew through the changing leaves. The forest would be a sea of gold and orange in a few days. Perhaps he’d take Min-jun out to admire the arrival of autumn. Even his consort, though he was often furious and cynical, couldn’t be immune to the beauty of Cheol’s world. What would he look like as Cheol took him to the highest point of the forest to admire this sea?
Thinking of Min-jun reminded Cheol that he’d left his lovely consort to his own devices, and if he woke up to Cheol’s absence, he would inevitably panic. Tch, this vulgar man had wasted so much of his time. He’d have to finish this quickly.
“Up here, you halfwit,” Cheol called down from his spot in the tree. The vulgar man twisted his head to look up at him. With the hood of the cloak pulled back, the man recognized him without a problem. To think, he could’ve avoided this fate if he’d managed to remember the sound of Cheol’s voice.
“You!” the man cried. Cheol jumped down from the tree, landing on his feet with ease. Seeing him walk away unscathed after falling from that height, the vulgar man stumbled back a few steps. “What are you?”
“How rude,” Cheol chided. He urged the forest to obey him, and without fail, it did his bidding. Yes, the earth would never shy away from following orders. Yet another reason Cheol preferred to rely on it in these situations.
Vines and roots wrapped around the man’s ankles and arms, and then stretched, forcing the vulgar man into a kneeling position.
“Who do you think you are?”
“I do believe it’s proper etiquette to kneel before your King,” Cheol said.
“King,” the man repeated, his voice quiet. “No way.”
At least he had enough reason in that tiny head of his to be fearful. Cheol sank down until he was on the vulgar man’s level. “You didn’t really think a Royal Noble Consort to the King would be allowed outside the Palace walls without supervision?”
He hung his head. “I have committed a great sin against you. I deserve death!”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” Cheol replied, much to the chagrin of the vulgar man. Rising, his hand hovered over a thorn bush nearby. The thorns pricked at his fingers but refused to draw blood. They would do. “But first, I have a few questions.”
“I will answer them gladly, your Majesty.” So polite when his life was on the line. If he’d shown this much courtesy to Min-jun, he might’ve lived a decent, if uneventful, life. But Cheol had made up his mind, and he wanted to see some blood.
“Who told you about my consort’s connection to the brothel?” Cheol asked.
“I overheard two men at the bar,” the man said. “Please, I know nothing. I can’t lose my life over that damn prosti – I mean, over someone I should’ve given up on long ago. My parents –”
“Which bar?”
“General’s Cellar. It’s in the center of the city. You can’t miss it.”
He didn’t know anything. That desperation in his eyes couldn’t be denied. Vulgar, stupid, and useless. Grand. Cheol sighed, weary now. He’d stayed up for this? At least now he could watch the vile man die miserably.
Tear him limb from limb.
And, as always, the earth moved at his command.
Thanks for the chapter ♥️♥️
thanks so much
Daaang, Cheol. This is an interesting side of him – I’m looking forward to getting more of his backstory. Thanks for the chapter!