Chapter 1542: Isn't That Enough? (Part 2)

His hands were numb.

"Sigh…"

Even after blowing on them for a moment, his fingertips were still bright red and frozen.

"Sigh."

The boy, who had been blowing on his hands alternately without a break, inadvertently frowned. If he didn't have something on his back, he could've put his hands together and warmed it with his breath...

But no, warming his hands wouldn't improve anything. If the stabbing pain subsided, hunger would gnaw at his insides.

"Sigh…"

The boy, blowing at his numb hands, stepped onto the wet grass and entered a makeshift hut.

Inside, there was one man and several boys a head shorter than him, all seated around a fire in the center.

They were all thin as twigs. In particular, the man sitting in the center, whether due to age or for some other reason, seemed unusually thin and nervously twitchy.

Bubble, bubble.

A pot was placed on the fire. Watching the simmering porridge, the boy found himself swallowing saliva without realizing it.

"You're here?"

"Yes."

"What did you bring?"

"Well…"

The boy tensed up with nervousness.

"Not particularly... there wasn't really anything to pick up." "

What? You went through so much trouble, and found nothing to pick up?"

"...Yes. Um, it seems like everything has been taken. Not only food, but even clothes were stripped off."

"Urgh..."

The man's face twisted. With over a hundred dead from the carnage, and not a single coin or handful of grain was left.

The ones busy fighting probably didn't bother searching the corpses, and others had already rushed in like vultures to take whatever was left.

"What's on your back?"

"Well, this is..."

The boy stuttered and took off what he had carried on his back.

Looking at the dirty cloth hastily wrapped, the man frowned.

"You...?"

The boy hurriedly explained as if making an excuse.

"Oh, no, it seemed like he was holding onto something in my hand... I tried to unclasp him, but he was holding on too tight."

The man's face turned red and blue.

"But, he seems to be alive. Oh, he's still young... I couldn't just abandon him because he's alive."

Swaak!

Before he could finish speaking, the man rushed forward and fiercely slapped the boy's cheek. The boy's twisted body flew like a dry stick and crashed into a corner of the makeshift hut.

"You fucker!"

Even then, the man didn't seem to have calmed down, relentlessly kicking and stomping on the fallen boy.

"A useless piece of crap who can't even grab a share like everyone else! What? Did you bring a person? What? Still alive?"

"Well, I..."

"Shut up!"

The boy's face was kicked again. It wasn't a disciplinary or educational beating. It was violence that was more like an outburst of frustration, saying it wouldn't matter even if the boy was kicked to death.

"Thud!"

Finally, blood dripped from the boy's mouth as the man kicked him. Only after the boy, who had been beaten for a long time, collapsed did the man stop kicking. Harsh breaths echoed inside the makeshift hut.

"Worried about others, a useless piece of shit who can't even secure his own meal? This fucking idiot! As if we're not already on the brink of starving to death, who knows what will happen if one more mouth is added here?"

The boy remained collapsed without being able to answer.

The man, who hadn't expected an answer in the first place, glanced at the young boy wrapped in the stained cloth. He looked like he wasn't even ten years old.

Of course, his actual age might be older. It was common for poor folks to look younger due to malnutrition. Especially in this area.

Judging by his complexion, he was definitely someone who wouldn't last long, probably just a day or two.

A boy who couldn't use strength in a world like this was no better than cattle or pigs. Livestock could be fed and raised for later consumption, but not humans like him.

"What should we do?"

Another boy, just as frail as the one who received a beating, asked cautiously.

"What?"

"Well... should we throw him outside?"

The man twisted his face and glanced briefly towards the entrance of the makeshift hut. The reeds outside were swaying in the biting wind. Even after huddling inside the hut, the cold made their bones ache. If thrown outside, he probably wouldn't survive for even an hour before freezing to death.

"Throw him over there in the corner."

"Do we really have to...?"

"Just leave him there, you idiot! Do you know how heavy a frozen corpse becomes? Who's going to bother moving a frozen guy that can't hear?"

"Ah..."

One of the boys quickly nodded. He understood the man's words immediately, having experience moving frozen corpses.

"He's as good as dead if we leave him. Besides..."

As the man cast a cold gaze over everyone, the boys cowered with fearful eyes.

"What are you lot going to do?"

"Um... we..."

"Look."

The man gestured towards the entrance of the makeshift hut. Each time the reeds shook in the wind, a swirling snowstorm could be seen. A snowstorm was already a rare occurrence in this region, indicating how severe the winter was.

"It's not going to stop snowing in a day or two, is it?"

The boys nodded their heads unknowingly. Although it was their first time experiencing a snowstorm, they understood that there was no way to predict when it would stop. However, responding to the man's words seemed to hasten the inevitable.

"What are you planning to eat during this time?"

"Outside..."

"Oh, so you're going to endure hunger by freezing your stomach here for two or three days?"

The boys couldn't bring themselves to answer. Although they wanted to say that they could endure by saving and eating the boiling porridge, they also knew this definitely wasn't the kind of porridge that would enter their mouths. [not sure]

"Go out. Jump over someone else's wall, catch a dog and kill it, and if that's not possible, break the ice and catch fish! Do something to find something to eat! Don't even think of coming back if you can't find anything! Got it?"

"L-let us wait until the snow stops a bit..."

Crack!

The boy, who was speaking hastily, had his head turned sharply to the side.

"What?"

"I-I'll go find something! Definitely!"

"Get out right now!"

Frightened, the boys gathered around the fallen boy, quickly picked him up, and rushed out of the makeshift hut.

The man muttered with an irritated tone.

"Damn idiots... What a pain."

He wasn't just acting this way because of his temperament. It had been over twenty years since he had been living this damned life. That's how he could tell. The severity of this winter was beyond imagination.

The war between the Evil Sect members who brandished their swords at the slightest provocation was intensifying. Those who couldn't afford to cultivate the land ran away to the mountains, becoming rebels, and then those rebels became bandit scoundrels who plundered other rebels. This had been going on for over a decade.

The roads were littered with corpses impaled by swords and those who died of starvation. And this year's winter was so harsh it was difficult to find precedent.

The man, with an irritated touch, removed the pot from the fire. It was a porridge made by pouring water into a handful of millet, boiling it until it turned muddy gray.

Calling it porridge was somewhat embarrassing, but even this was precious to him.

'I'll probably die along with several others before winter passes.'

For those young beggars, it didn't matter how many of them died. In a world where countless people were dying, orphans were the easiest to come by.

Even parents with still-breathing children abandoned their own flesh and blood because they were busy securing their own food. The man had no qualms about it.

The problem was not that those kids were dying but that he might die too. Although he was somehow enduring for now, there was no way to survive without eating.

He looked down at his hand holding the pot, or more precisely, his wrist. Seeing it so emaciated that it seemed like it could break at any moment, beyond irritation, a sense of fear overwhelmed him.

Damn it, damn it, damn it. Could he endure this winter by eating such a thing? No, could he even find something like this porridge in the future?

To some, he was a beggar. To others, a wanderer. To some, a thief, and to another, a robber. He had done everything possible to survive, but this winter was particularly fearsome.

Had there ever been a winter like this before? It felt like there had been.

How did he survive back then? It was more...

At that moment, the man, recalling something, slowly shifted his gaze to the side.

The young child tossed into the corner.

He was about to die soon, but strangely, unlike other guys, he hadn't withered away.

The man involuntarily swallowed dryly. The conflicting emotions shone in his eyes, but he quickly regained composure.

"Tsk."

Upon the first time, you may agonize; upon the second time, you may hesitate. However, if it was neither the first nor the second time, there was no reason to hesitate.

The man slowly pulled out a sharp kitchen knife from a cheap sheath at his waist.

Still, he couldn't help but feel tense, so he licked his dry lips with his tongue. The man's eyes, approaching the child, were ominous.

When the man's elongated shadow cast over the child, the child's stiffened hand within the sleeve twitched slightly.

"...Are you okay?"

The beaten boy nodded laboriously.

Even at a glance, he didn't look well. However, the other boys who had asked if he was okay quickly lost interest after seeing his condition.

Whether dying from a beating or starving to death, there were countless cases like his. Death was something they constantly carried on their backs and lived with, not something to avoid.

"Damn, on a day like this, where can we find food by begging!"

One of the boys complained.

Even animals wouldn't hunt in weather like this. And, since there were no signs of humans anywhere, where exactly were they supposed to find something to eat?

"Rather than this happening all the time..."

"Aseola." 

Before the words were finished, the other kids shook their heads. They understood the boy's feelings, but they had no choice but to dissuade him.

If he killed the man, he wouldn't have to endure a beating. However, if he couldn't even integrate into a group in such a world, he would lose everything, even a handful of bark he held in his hands, and eventually his life would be taken away.

There was no place as easy a target as a group of children without adults. For them to survive, that damn man had to stay alive. At least until they could stand on their own.

The boy who had been beaten earlier calmly spoke.

"Just wait a moment."

"...What?"

The kids, trembling in the biting cold wind, asked in confusion. Perhaps there was a way to find something to eat.

The boy said calmly.

"We just need to wait a bit before going in."

"...What are you talking about?"

"You know it clearly. At least today, we'll have something to put in our mouths."

The boys, who had been staring blankly at the youth, twitched a bit after a moment. They belatedly understood the meaning of the something to put in their mouths.

"No way..."

"You obviously know. Have you not heard the rumors about the Wang Ho-pae?"

Rumors about the King's Wang Ho-pae. The boys, who hadn't dared to bring up the gruesome rumors, swallowed their dry saliva.

"So it's really..."

"There's nothing good whether we go early or late. Just wait a bit more."

Various emotions flickered on the faces of the boys.

Eerie, bleak, resignation, agony...

But no one blamed him for this decision. If you hesitated between whether you died or someone else died, wasn't the result obvious?

"...How much longer do we have to wait?"

"Soon. It won't take long to deal with a kid who's dying anyway."

"Could he hesitate?"

"That bastard?"

The boys fell silent.

Underneath the bare trees, they faced the harsh wind, enduring and waiting.

Then the boys turned towards the shabby hut once again.

Soon they could feel it clearly.

The scent intensified as the hut drew nearer. Piercing through the biting winter wind, the smell digging into the tip of their noses... the stench of blood.

One of the boys who had swallowed his dry saliva carefully put a foot on the ground of the hut. And it froze like ice right there.

"Uh..."

Blood was splattered everywhere.

Actually, this wasn't surprising. Even though it seemed louder than expected, they had anticipated that there would be a lot of blood.

What went beyond their expectations was... the owner of this blood.

"B, boss..."

The man who had driven them out was lying lifelessly. His eyes were closed, and his limp form was pitiful. His chest was pierced, and his face had long scars.

And his neck... was penetrated by a short dagger.

The dagger, seemingly with its handle torn off, was tiny. It was so small that it might not be noticeable even if gripped tightly by a child's hand.

"Uh..."

Reflecting on the scene that unfolded inside the shack, everyone fell into contemplation.

Tap. Tap.

There was a rhythmic sound, seemingly serene, near the not-yet-cold corpse. Turning around, they saw a child, so small that they might barely reach the boys' chests, sitting beside the lifeless body.

'What is that...?'

The rhythmic sound the child was making was the sound of an old spoon hitting the pot.

Inside the pot was the porridge intended for the man.

The child, wrapped in a dirty cloth, was the one thrown into the shack to die.

The boys couldn't move as if frozen.

Who killed the man? How did the child wake up? How could the child nonchalantly eat porridge next to the corpse?

None of these questions crossed their minds.

They were simply overwhelmed by the scene. The dead cool off, and the living eat. That harsh reality chilled the boys more than the severe winter.

And then...

Thud.

The child who had put down the pot slowly turned his head.

Under the half-covered face that had become tangled hair, lips were visible.

Whether it was due to the warmth of the porridge or the peculiar heat of this space, the lips, which seemed almost greenish as if about to die, were now dyed a deep red, like blood.

The boys couldn't even think of breathing.

In the momentary, but suffocating silence, just before choking to death, those red lips gently curved, emitting laughter.

It was an unexpectedly bright, yet somehow eerie laughter.

* * *

Jang Ilso, who opened his eyes, slowly rose from the bed.

He looked around slowly, from the splendid bed to the soft silk blankets draped over him, and even to the gently burning scented candles illuminating the surroundings.

As if it felt his presence, the door to the tent opened, and subordinates entered.

"Did you cough, Lord Jang Ilso?"

Without answering, Jang Ilso, who had been watching them, suddenly absentmindedly looked outside the tent. Then, he shifted his cold gaze to the subordinates.

"Is it snowing?"

There was a moment of hesitation among the startled subordinates. Snow in this weather?

Seeing the puzzled response, Jang Ilso smirked and slowly raised his hand.

"Never mind."

Having gulped down the brought water in one go, Jang Ilso put the cup down and spoke.

"Porridge."

"Uh... yes?"

A fresh smile brightened his pale face. It was an exceptionally pure and bright smile.

"Let's have millet porridge for breakfast."