The Concubine Lane was bustling, just like every other night. It seemed the place was always alive, filled with customers eager to indulge their desires.**
One table, in particular, was filled with laughter and joy. A group of men were having the time of their lives—drinking, gambling, and surrounded by beautiful girls eager to drain their winnings. It almost felt like a cruel joke: win, only to lose it all in seconds.
Better off going fishing instead!
One man nearly stumbled on his feet, a sign of his good fortune that night. His beer mug stayed firmly in his grip, never leaving his hand even once. He was clearly enjoying himself, sweeping up all the winnings from his tablemates. This man knew how to play the game, a true professional.
"Yarh!" he cheered, celebrating his third consecutive win of the night. With a wide grin, he gathered his winnings, tucking the coins securely into his pouch.
"Shibal... You're a lucky bastard, aren't you?" one of the men cursed at the winner, who only grinned wider, proudly flashing his pouch heavy with gold coins.
"Let's call it a night," the man announced, brushing the dust off his robe as he stood up. A sly woman approached him, but he gently pushed her away.
"Don't waste your time on this one. He lives like a monk..."
"A perk of being one of the bodyguards of seja jeoha..."
"A perk or a curse?"
Laughter erupted at the table, but the man only huffed, rubbing his head before grinning, amused by the teasing.
"Sorry, pal. When it comes to money, I'm an expert. But with women...," he glared at the woman, "That's a sin I won't indulge in," he said, handing her three pieces of gold, but still keeping his distance.
"Why won't he let his bodyguards have some fun? I mean, he does it himself!" one of his friends complained.
"He's seja jeoha. He can do whatever he wants. If he gets sick, he has a team of physicians to help him. But us? We're just pawns. If we get sick, no one will take care of us," the man explained.
"But it's normal for a man to... you know, once a week! How do you manage that?"
"I could just ask seja jeoha. He'd arrange it for us. The married ones are lucky; they don't have to ask. But for a single guy like me, I have to apply for it," he said, his nose crinkling. "To be honest, I even had to ask for permission to be here tonight. If he finds out, I might get punished! So, all of you, better keep quiet! Got it?" the man warned.
They nodded, but no one really cared. Everyone was too drunk to remember anything by morning. Tomorrow would be a new day.
After a while, the man left The Concubine Lane, still staggering but not too badly. He walked the familiar route, the same one he took every time he visited.
As he strolled down the quiet road, a sense of unease crept in. It felt like he wasn't alone. Someone was following him, getting closer with each step. He reached for the dagger at his waist, ready for anything.
Then, without warning, he spun around, only to see a drunkard a few meters away, struggling and vomiting into the bushes.
"Must've had too much to drink!" The man crinkled his nose, shaking his head.
But when he turned back, his eyes widened.
Someone was standing in front of him, and they didn't look friendly at all.
***
When the man opened his eyes, he was surrounded by darkness. The dim light barely illuminated the room, making it difficult to figure out where he was.
"Yarh! Anyone? Help!" he struggled, trying to break free from the ropes binding him to the chair. The chair rocked violently with his efforts.
Suddenly, a hand clamped down on his shoulder from behind. He screamed in terror and pain, craning his neck to see who was holding him.
"One more scream, and you'll lose your neck..."
The person squatted down, their eyes boring into him. The intensity of that gaze made him shudder all over.
"Indra, be nice. We're here to investigate, not kill anyone," Asura emerged from the shadows, his voice a stern warning.
"Your name is Kwak, isn't it?" Asura asked calmly. The man nodded, his eyes darting between Asura and Indra.
"Who are you two? What do you want from me?" Kwak shouted, only for Indra to press down harder on his shoulder.
"I told you to shut up!" Indra snapped, causing Kwak to tremble. Asura sighed softly.
Indra had always been a rough beast in his work, showing no empathy toward his targets. Fortunately, he was stationed at the border with Asura. If he were in the justice department, there'd likely be a trail of bodies left in his wake. Patience wasn't his strong suit.
"Indra, behave yourself. Remember the purpose of the investigation," Asura reminded him again. Indra scoffed but finally let go of the man.
"Now, back to business," Asura's eyes returned to the sheet in his hand. "You're Kwak, the right-hand man of seja jeoha, aren't you?" he asked.
"What does that have to do with you?"
"Just answer him!" Indra barked, pressing down on Kwak's shoulder again. The man nodded quickly, looking at Asura.
Asura disliked using such barbaric methods, but if it got Kwak to talk, he had no choice.
"So, you must know who he meets with, what deals he's involved in outside the palace..."
"I know nothing!"
Another rough shove made Kwak stammer.
"You'd better tell us everything. I don't want to see my friend kill someone, especially someone innocent like you. Just tell us something—at least where seja jeoha frequently visits," Asura coaxed, his voice laced with concern.
Kwak looked at Asura, his eyes wavering. It was enough for Asura to know that Kwak was hiding something.
"Every week, seja jeoha visits a tavern. He meets with a select group of ministers there. The group changes, so I don't know much else. When seja meets them, all the bodyguards wait outside. We're not allowed in," Kwak explained, his voice shaky.
"Where's the tavern?" Asura asked.
"I can't tell you. It's a secret!" Kwak's face filled with fear.
"Just spill it!" Indra threatened, roughing him up again. Asura knew if Kwak didn't talk, he might not make it through the night.
Unless...
"Indra, that's enough!"
A voice from the shadows stopped Indra in his tracks. Both he and Asura immediately bowed.
Min Jun stepped out of the darkness, his face serious. Kwak looked even more terrified now.
"Du beonjjae wangja!" Kwak stammered, bowing deeply. Min Jun squatted down, his gaze fixed on the man.
"You'd better tell us... or we'll force you. And you won't like it," Min Jun warned, his tone leaving no room for doubt.