HDCLSSRS Ch 113

Chapter 113 The Sixth Young Master (5)

He deliberately pulled a long face.

“If we come up empty today as well, then punishment is sure to fall upon us… What should I do?”

“Ah, poor lad…”

The kitchen master (head cook) regarded the boy with sympathy. After a moment of thought, he seemed to resolve something, then nudged him with an elbow.

“Ask her.”

With a jerk of his chin he indicated someone. There, a young girl was sweeping with a broom.

“She’s a helper here in the kitchen, goes by the name Suran. Not certain, but I’ve seen her exchanging words from time to time with the Sixth Young Master’s servant.”

Perhaps realizing she was being stared at, Suran looked up. Meeting Kang Ung’s eyes, she panicked and scurried behind a wall, out of sight.

…Does she know something?

She’d already had one interview with Seong Muyeon before, but at the time nothing had seemed remarkable.

“I’ll come fetch the tea myself later.”

Quietly excusing himself, Kang Ung trailed after her. Suran crouched in the rear courtyard, panting quickly as though startled.

“Uh… Excuse me…”

As he ventured a cautious greeting, she seized the broom tight in hand, posture bristling with defensiveness. Kang froze, unwilling to draw closer.

“Don’t be frightened. I only want to ask a few things…”

“I already told you before—I don’t know anything.”

Kang withdrew meekly; better not to frighten her into fleeing and vanishing altogether.

When he reported this to Seong Muyeon back in their private chamber, Muyeon’s face lit up.

“Well done! That alone is enough. Suran will have to be investigated further.”

“Hehe.”

Not long after, Baek Ryeoil returned as well. From the sound of it, he had visited the branches of both the Hao Clan (an information guild) and the Beggar’s Sect to dig into the tavern master’s dealings.

“What did you learn?”

“The master of Seonwollu runs an illegal gambling den. Not only that, he lends money at usurious rates to those same gamblers, raking in fortunes.”

“So the hundred taels of gold were wasted on gambling… how pathetic.”

If Mujai had escaped over debt, then of course he wouldn’t show his face easily—the tavern master had too many ties in the area. He must surely have supporters aiding him even in hiding.

And so, their only clear lead became Suran. Yet after several days of having Ryeoil tail her discreetly, she revealed no habits beyond home and work—no visits to anyone, no gatherings. If she encountered Muyeon’s group at the tavern, she would only panic and flee. Their suspicion only deepened.

“We can’t interrogate outright without proof… but she definitely knows something.” Muyeon frowned in thought.

“Then perhaps… we should give her a little fright?”

“Again? They’re summoning us again?”

The noble youth had once more called the workers to his room. Amid the rush of evening preparations, losing hands made grumbles rise.

“…”

Suran shuffled nervously, rolling her eyes.

As before, each servant entered singly, staying briefly before returning.

“What did he ask this time?”

One who’d gone in replied lazily. Suran strained an ear.

“Same as last time. When did you last see the Young Lord?”

“Hmph. A grown man can find his own way back. These nobles truly must have nothing better to do.”

As the afternoon swelled and patrons bustled in, it came to Suran’s turn. She was chopping ingredients when called. Wiping her hands, she ascended the stairs, heart wildly pounding.

The corridor outside the private room lay empty, eerily quiet—her pulse loud enough to echo in her ears.

“You rat! Where are you hiding?!”

A voice thundered from within, making her flinch violently. That must be the tall, rough-featured warrior attending the young lord.

Her heart, already frayed by nerves, raced like mad. Still—where the courage came from she knew not—she crept close to the door, ear pressed to the crack.

“…We tried to track in secret, but that’s no longer possible. We’ll have to release men into the city, even if it grows messy.”

That refined yet cold tone was the noble himself.

“And after all this trouble, once we seize him I swear I’ll break him into pieces!”

Bang!

The slap of a hand upon a table jolted her so hard she fell on her bottom. To cross such warriors—especially that towering brute—would mean death.

Quaking, she forced herself upright, took a deep breath, and knocked. Silence; then at last that elegant voice invited—

“Enter.”

Inside, the air hung heavy with menace. Suran fought to appear calm. The youth seemed not to notice anything off, asked her questions—the same as the previous interviews. The others too seemed disgruntled at their lack of progress.

Fortunately, the young apprentice warrior—this “Kang”—did not show special notice of her. Just as she suspected, the nobles were probing at random servants, hoping to dig up chance clues.

Once the rote inquiries finished, she was told whom to summon next and permitted to leave.

Phew…

But relief was fleeting. The unnatural air in there lingered in her memory. Until now they had been still—but soon they might well unsheath their swords.

Distraught, Suran asked the kitchen master quietly—

“I… I feel unwell. Could I go home early today?”

“What? At peak busy hour? Short-staffed as it is?”

“I’m sorry…”

She left at once. Yet she did not head home; instead, she wandered the streets, pacing to and fro, before slipping into the nearby forest.

Deeper she went, heedless of the winter wind, eyes darting constantly in wariness.

At last she stopped before a collapsing shack, long abandoned, its roof gaping.

Softly, she called,

“Kyum-ah…”

No answer. She raised her voice,

“Bang-Gyeom…”

Creak.

The ruined door shifted, half-rotted, and a man emerged cautiously once he confirmed it was her.

“Didn’t I tell you never to come here?”

Though his words scolded, warmth of relief leaked through them.

“I had no choice—it’s urgent. Some noble has come to the tavern, asking after you—and him.”

Bang Gyeom’s face drained white.

“What? Is it true?”

“Run. I know I shouldn’t come, but I had to warn you. They swore if they caught you they’d utterly destroy you.”

She drew from her bosom a small bundle.

“Here. I saved some travel money and supplies just in case. Take them.”

Receiving it, Bang Gyeom’s expression twisted in pain.

“…Thank you. Be careful yourself—better yet, don’t return to the tavern for now.”

“Don’t worry for me. I suppose this is… farewell, isn’t it?”

She hesitated. His answer came rough, voice breaking—

“…Most likely.”

Both lowered their eyes, unable to bear the other’s gaze.

Until, at once, they embraced tightly.

From the branches above, hidden, Seong Muyeon pressed eyes shut.

So pointlessly dramatic…

“That must be the Sixth Prince’s retainer. Seems he really hasn’t gone far.” Kang Ung whispered.

Muyeon nodded.

“I knew he’d have helpers.”

They had tracked Suran from the moment she left the tavern. Now, at last, they had found the Sixth Prince’s hiding place.

Since she was but an ordinary girl with no martial skills, they waited until she was gone—lest she be caught in the middle.

And then—

Crash!

Baek Ryeoil kicked down the door. The rotted wood splintered into fragments.

Inside, two men scrambled in panic to flee.

“Young Master! I’ll hold them off, run!”

Bang Gyeom drew steel with fierce speed. With holes dotting the shack’s walls, there were countless gaps to escape. While he faced Ryeoil, the other man dove for a hole.

But waiting outside stood Seong Muyeon, having already sealed the path.

“…Brother?”

Muyeon frowned.

Gone was the lofty, imperious Sixth Prince. His battered face and ragged attire were little better than a beggar. His silks were tattered rags, stained and threadbare.

“You… you are—”

Mujai stiffened at the sight of him. Then he shoved past, trying to flee. But Muyeon made no move.

For just behind, Kang Ung was already waiting. With a leap, he crashed into Mujai, bringing him down.