Martial Wild West

“Pardon me, can ya hear me?”

Pausing in his attempt to mount Jojo’s saddle, Jang Geon headed toward the source of the voice, with Jojo following him at a leisurely pace, neighing softly.

Navigating around the lifeless bodies strewn about, Jang Geon soon discovered a man lying on the ground, staring up at the sky. His face was ashen from significant blood loss.

The man shuddered as he gazed up at Jang Geon’s face, shaded by a wide-brimmed hat with the sun at his back.

“How…dy?”

Jang Geon silently acknowledged the man with a nod but said nothing. However, the man seemed to accept this as a sufficient response and smiled weakly.

“Beg yer pardon for barging in like this, but my young’un’s hidin’ away in that there carriage. I done made him a hidey-hole right beneath it.”

Following the man’s words, Jang Geon’s attention shifted to the carriage. Its walls appeared thick enough that he couldn’t discern anything from his current position.

“I’m right sorry to be a burden, ‘specially after you done chased off them no-good outlaws, but would ya mind savin’ my boy? He’s jest ten years old… He ain’t gonna make it out here on his lonesome. He’s a smart lil’ fella, but he’s scared.”

“Where’s the boy’s mother?”

As Jang Geon studied the carriage, the injured man responded to his query with a rueful chuckle.

“Well, the boy’s mama done passed a while back… She didn’t make it long after bringin’ him into this world. My kin blamed the child… That’s why we up and left our old lives and set out fer this new land… I was hopin’ to start anew with my boy…”

The man’s speech grew increasingly disjointed as if his mind was becoming foggy. Jang Geon shifted his focus from the carriage back to him.

“I ain’t got much know-how with young’uns. They don’t seem to take a likin’ to me, even though I’m fond of ’em.”

“Even so, please lend a hand. There’s a lil’ ol’ village called Cheongsan Valley ’bout three days’ ride east of here. My sister-in-law lives there. She’s different from the rest of ’em kinfolk, always had a soft spot for our young’un. She’s got some fancy martial arts skills and a heart o’ gold, so she’ll make it worth yer while to bring my boy to her. So…”

“You ain’t comin’ with us?”

The man gazed at Jang Geon, disbelief in his eyes.

“Well… I done lost a heap o’ blood… and there’s this here hole in my gut… I’d be obliged to join y’all if I could, but…”

Jang Geon nodded and crouched down beside the man, inspecting his wound. Though the man’s stomach was pierced, it seemed to have avoided vital organs. Nevertheless, he had lost a substantial amount of blood and was still bleeding.

“You a doctor?”

“Nope.”

The man’s expression twisted with confusion, unable to comprehend Jang Geon’s actions. Was he irritated by the request to care for the child? The man felt a growing sense of unease in his chest.

Jang Geon discerned the man’s thoughts by the expression on his face. He smirked and promptly pressed his hand on the man’s wound to halt the bleeding. While he couldn’t do anything about the blood already lost, this action would be enough to prevent further blood loss.

“Ya got any fixin’s and bandages?”

The man, taken aback by Jang Geon’s ability to stop the bleeding with his bare hands, responded.

“Reckon they’s in the stagecoach. …But what in tarnation are ya doin’? Did ya honest to goodness just stop the bleedin’ with yer bare mitts?”

Jang Geon offered a silent smile and rose to his feet. He walked toward the carriage, pondering how stopping the bleeding with bare hands had become an extraordinary skill in this martial arts world.

In this realm, stopping bleeding is a slow process executed by skilled doctors who locate blood vessels and insert thick needles. It takes considerable time to learn and perfect, so only experienced doctors employ this technique. Martial artists who have mastered inner strength also know their own blood vessels well through their own bodies, but stopping the bleeding is deemed an act performed by doctors, and this belief had spread as common knowledge.

They never even considered using their inner strength in their fingertips to block others’ blood vessels or cause abnormalities. Of course, that was also because martial artists’ minds were preoccupied with the idea of tearing and crushing the flesh of others with their inner strength. Jang Geon couldn’t forget the bewildered expression on his doctor’s face when he first learned to stop the bleeding.

With these thoughts, Jang Geon approached the carriage and saw the door ajar and a corpse inside. He removed the body, laid it outside the carriage, and surveyed the disarray within caused by the thieves. He retrieved some bandages, powdered medicine, and a clean shirt before returning to the man.

The man observed Jang Geon’s return and spoke.

“…I jest realized I ain’t even asked yer name, my savior. I’m Lee Yoon, by the way.”

“Jang Geon.”

Jang Geon removed Lee Yoon’s tattered clothes, applied the powdered medicine to the wound, and wrapped it with a bandage. Lee Yoon, now wearing the clean clothes Jang Geon had brought, struggled to stand.

“I need to see my boy, Hwan.”

Jang Geon sighed softly and assisted Lee Yoon, who appeared as though he might collapse any second. As they neared the carriage, Lee Yoon knocked on a corner of the carriage floor.

“Hwan, you alright? Hwan?”

After a brief pause, there was a thud, and a section of the floor opened. A boy climbed out from the concealed space, gazing at Lee Yoon with wide eyes before embracing him tightly.

“Ouch, Hwan! Your pa’s hurtin’! That hurts!”

Alarmed by Lee Yoon’s outcry, the boy swiftly backed away. Only then did he notice his father’s bandaged wound and inquired anxiously.

“Pa, what happened? Why’re ya like this?”

“Ahem, well, I got myself stabbed too.”

“What? You got stabbed? Ya okay, Pa?”

It seemed that Lee Yoon finally grasped the reality that he was still alive and able to see his son’s face once more. He began to smile gradually, then suddenly collapsed.

“Pa!”

The startled child quickly supported his father. Seeing his father’s closed eyes, the child almost burst into tears. Jang Geon, who didn’t like to see the child cry, quickly grabbed the child’s shoulder.

“He done passed out fer a spell. The stress done eased up.”

“Ah, really? He ain’t dead?”

“He ain’t dead.”

“…Who might you be?”

“Name’s Jang Geon.”

The child looked at his unconscious father and Jang Geon alternately with a puzzled expression. Then he said.

“I’m s’posed to know ya just by that?”

For a moment, Jang Geon was stunned by the child’s bold words, but soon he couldn’t help but laugh. Was this what he meant by being smart?

“Any bags we oughta take?”

“…Bags?”

“Don’t look like we can take the wagon. Wheels seem to be busted. I’ll fetch a horse for you and yer pa to ride, so git yer things ready.”

Before the child could respond, Jang Geon turned around. Most of the bandits’ horses had fled after their owners had died, but there was one dark horse left. It seemed to be the horse of the dead bandit leader, circling around him.

As Jang Geon led the horse by its reins, a thought crossed his mind, and he approached the dead leader. He picked up the large sword that was on the ground and tried to cut off the leader’s head. It was for the bounty.

But he hesitated for a moment, remembering the words of the child’s father.

“···Three days. It’ll rot.”

Would there be a village in between? Carrying around a severed head with a child was also a bit much.

But it was true that he needed money. Jang Geon gently lowered his head and cut off the leader’s head with the sword. He then wrapped the head tightly with the leader’s clothes and the clothes of the nearby bandits. The head’s size almost doubled.

Having taken the head, Jang Geon searched the leader’s body. As expected of a bandit who had been robbing poor travelers, there was no money, but he found a rectangular copper plate. The words “Samho Daejang” were engraved on one side, and “Gam Sun Deok” on the other.

“Mr. Gam Sun Deok was the head honcho.”

The leader of the Samho gang, which meant there might have been a first and second gang as well. Their comrades might come seeking revenge. Jang Geon didn’t pay much attention to it. In fact, it would be great if they came. If they were comrades of this scoundrel, they would also be trash with bounties on their heads.

Jang Geon took the reins and approached the carriage with the horse.

After hanging the head on Jojo’s saddle, he saw the child holding a load with a stiff expression, probably because he had seen the dead bodies around. Yoon, who had regained consciousness, stood beside him and patted his head.

Jang Geon handed him the reins and said, “Let’s git a move on.”

“Y’all comin’ with us?”

“Didn’t ya say you’d pony up? Was that yarn ’bout the well-to-do aunt in Cheongsan Valley a tall tale?”

Yoon looked at Jang Geon with a slightly dazed expression. Although he didn’t know the details, this sullen but skilled swordsman didn’t seem to be a villain. He could have demanded money right away after defeating the bandits and tending to the wounds, but he didn’t.

“Nope, it ain’t no lie. She had some mighty fine skills, so she must’ve raked in a heap o’ riches. Plus, I put some of my own greenbacks in her.”

“Well, let’s git goin’. I don’t wanna stick ’round this boneyard any longer.”

As Yoon hesitated while watching Jang Geon climb on the horse, he wished he could bury these people. They were good people who briefly shared their journey. However, he was injured, and Hwan was just a child, so only Jang Geon could do the burying.

“Pa.”

At that moment, Hwan tugged on his father’s clothes. Surprised, Yoon looked down at his son’s face, gazed into his clear eyes, and finally nodded. After placing Hwan on the horse first, Yoon climbed up and held onto the child. His hand holding the reins trembled.

“Yeah, let’s git. Time’s a-wastin’.”

After determining their direction by looking at the sky, they quickly rode away from the place. Hwan kept trying to look back, but Yoon stopped him.

Now the wind, rain, and wild animals would erase their tracks. Jang Geon didn’t know whether they would become wandering ghosts bearing grudges or go to a peaceful afterlife or even reincarnate. However, he hoped they would go to a place where they could forget the pain and hardships of life. That brief thought was all the condolence he could offer in this wilderness.

Jang Geon, Yoon, and Hwan couldn’t ride for long despite their initial fast pace, due to Yoon’s struggle. It was already extraordinary for a commoner who was bleeding profusely from a stomach wound to ride a horse.

Eventually, they had to stop and set up a small campsite before the sun had set completely. After having a simple meal of dried food, they spread out blankets and lay down. Jang Geon wanted to tease Hwan, but seeing his gloomy face, he refrained.

Instead, seeing Yoon’s discomfort from his stomach wound, he asked, “Is there a village ‘fore we git to Cheongsan Valley?”

“Sure is, one by the name of Namjak Lake. It’s a lil’ ol’ place, so small I heard they ain’t even got an inn. Our bunch was plannin’ to make a pit stop there.”

“When we gonna get there?”

Yoon let out a light sigh. “Well, if we was just ridin’ horses, we’d be there by high noon tomorrow, but…”

Jang Geon nodded. Even if they were delayed due to Yoon’s condition, they should be able to arrive by evening. Even though there was no guesthouse in the village, they should be able to find at least emergency medicine. When Jang Geon checked, the situation didn’t seem too dangerous, but he was only a layman who had learned some medical knowledge to understand acupuncture. He couldn’t know the entire health situation just by observing the circulation of energy.

If Yoon suddenly collapsed and died a few days later, after Jang Geon had made an effort to bring him along, there would be nothing he could say to the child. Jang Geon decided to plan the journey that way. Yoon and Hwan had no reason to object.

Under the blazing sun, the lifeless bodies were decomposing rapidly. Some vultures had already boldly landed and pecked out the eyes of the corpses.

Two people arrived on horseback. Both of them wore wide straw hats and gray windbreakers. They slowly surveyed the area before dismounting to inspect the condition of the corpses.

One of them crouched down to examine a corpse. On her back was a sword that was not very long but had a blade width of about half an arm span.

“The time o’ death seems to be yesterdee afternoon. They all kicked the bucket ’round the same time.”

It was a slightly low female voice. Despite the short sentence, her calmness and strictness seemed apparent.

“These stiffs, they’re them varmints, right? The enemy posse. Looks like they got a lickin’ whilst robbin’ the stagecoach.”

The man, who stood behind her holding the horse’s reins, appeared to be male. He slightly lifted his straw hat to check the surroundings and said,

“Judgin’ by the count, they’re all dead.”

“Not all of ’em. They done split into three groups when they go plunderin’, then meet up in one spot to divvy up the loot. These here fellas are just one o’ them groups.”

“Well, it’s still a stroke o’ luck their numbers done dwindled. I reckoned it’d be nigh impossible for the two of us to wrangle all of ’em this go ’round.”

The woman glanced around with both hands on her hips and scolded the man.

“We oughta at least earn back the worth o’ the elixir we been gettin’ from the Alliance. Can ya pay all that back in cold hard cash?”

“…Well, not that.”

At the man’s downcast reply, the woman slightly smiled and then immediately hardened her face as she stood up.

“This here’s interestin’.”

“Why’s that?”

“Seems the folks in the carriage didn’t put up much of a fight.”

“Really? So, what in tarnation happened?”

“Some other fella stepped in. Someone different from the folks in the carriage.”

“A different person?”

“One person.”

The woman methodically examined each of the dead enemy squad members. Eventually, her eyes settled on a beheaded corpse lying face down.

“This one, real slick. He might be one o’ the big dogs of the enemy posse.”

“…How can ya tell all that jest by ganderin’ at the stiffs? I can’t make heads or tails of it.”

“Study up a bit more. Don’t just haunt the saloons.”

The man seemed intimidated by her continuous scolding. However, the woman appeared to have no energy to pay attention to his expression. She quickly moved around the scene, mumbling.

“…They divvied up the spoils. The other fella was a top hand too. Them remainin’ bandits couldn’t put up a proper fight and met their maker… Most of the stagecoach passengers were just regular folks… But one person done survived. No, two. One’s a young’un. The other… a pa? They high-tailed it on horseback with the top hand. But it looks like the pa’s hurtin’.”

The man clicked his tongue.

“Pardner, you’re a sight better at investigatin’ the scene than our head honcho. Why don’t ya just mosey on up to patrol leader? What’s our boss good at ‘cept butterin’ up the bigwigs?”

At that moment, the woman suddenly crouched down again and examined the ground. The man quickly approached and asked.

“What’s the matter? Ya find somethin’ else?”

The woman, who had been briefly examining the ground, took off her straw hat and looked eastward.

“…There were visitors. A few wandered over to the scene and took a gander at the situation. They’re likely the other two head honchos of the enemy posse. The time… it’s this mornin’.”

As she removed her hat, the woman’s face was revealed to be quite striking. She had thick eyebrows and distinct features, giving her a powerful impression, but that added to her allure.

However, her face was marred with scars. A large scar crossed her face diagonally from the left forehead to the right cheek, and smaller ones could be seen under her lips and on her left cheek. Her face was hard for first-time viewers to look away from.

“This mornin’? That ain’t too long ago?”

“Right. So, we best git a move on and give chase.”

The woman, who put her straw hat back on and stood up, took the horse reins from the man and immediately galloped away. Both of them quickly vanished, heading east. Their martial uniforms were slightly exposed due to the wind lifting their windbreakers, and on the left shoulder and chest were the large, distinct characters ‘무림武林’ (Martial Alliance).

Shortly after the unwelcome guests had disappeared, black crows and birds landed again. They resumed the feast that had been abruptly interrupted due to the unfamiliar visitors.

TRIVIA:

In the Korean language, the word “삼” (sam) means “three.” Therefore, the name “삼호” (Samho) can be understood as a combination of the words “삼” (three) and “호” (which can mean “ship” or “company” depending on the context), implying that the company may have three ships or three branches.