Chapter 29

Chapter 29
## Chapter 29: Time to Grab the Clubs (1)

“Old Man Jeon is retiring?”

Sima Geon, who had been focused on devouring the snacks Sima Jin had laid out, snapped his head up in disbelief.

“Indeed. The vibe has been off for some time, but I didn’t anticipate him making such a sudden move.”

As Sima Hyeon spoke, Cheol Woo—whose mouth was currently stuffed with food—reached for a container of low-grade spirits.

“That’s strange. Is his health failing? He seemed perfectly robust when I ran into him just the other day.”

“It isn’t an illness, necessarily. He simply claims to be exhausted after a lifetime of tending the ranch. He’s had enough.”

“Then he should pass the reins to his sons. Wait—does he have heirs?”

Sima Hyeon gave a slow shake of his head at Cheol Woo’s inquiry.

“He has three sons.”

“So? Is the old man looking for someone to take over, similar to how things work here?”

Cheol Woo asked, looking skeptical.

“Hardly. All three of them have established themselves as successful traders, according to what I’ve gathered. Though, there might be more to the story. Rumor has it the two eldest suffered significant financial losses recently. Regardless, the main point is that Jeon’s ranch is hitting the market shortly, and the person buying it has zero interest in keeping it as a livestock operation.”

“That’s a massive pain.”

Sima Geon’s brow furrowed. Their business relied on a consistent flow of cows, hogs, and sheep from that specific ranch.

“The silver lining is that he’s offering us the livestock first. And he’s giving us a price break. The hurdle, as always, is the capital.”

Sima Hyeon flashed a strained grin.

“What are the numbers we’re looking at?”

“Roughly forty head of cattle, and about a hundred each of pigs and sheep.”

“That many animals?”

“He mentioned that’s only a portion of his total stock. About thirty percent of what he was raising back when you were still managing the butcher shop yourself, Old Man.”

“Do we actually have the funds to secure a herd that size…?”

Sima Geon looked toward Sima Hyeon as he posed the question.

“We don’t. Even if we emptied every jar and searched every pocket, we wouldn’t come close. We could maybe cover ten percent of the cost.”

“You can’t properly start a ranching operation with that little.”

“Exactly.”

Sima Hyeon shook his head with finality.

“Why are you getting worked up? It’s not like he owns the only ranch in the province. Just find another supplier,” Cheol Woo interjected, looking annoyed by the stress.

“There isn’t another ranch in the vicinity that offers that kind of consistency or quality. We could search further afield, certainly, but once you account for the travel time and the logistics of moving live animals, the profit margins vanish.”

“Fair point,” Cheol Woo conceded with a nod.

Sima Geon, who had been silent and contemplative, suddenly slammed his hand against the tabletop.

“Then we buy it all.”

“Were you even listening? The money isn’t there.”

Sima Hyeon looked exasperated.

“Then we borrow the difference. They say the best way to do business is using someone else’s silver.”

“Who exactly says that?”

Sima Hyeon gave him a look of pure incredulity.

“I don’t know… I heard it somewhere. Look, since the old man is offering us a bargain, we need to take control of the stock.”

“It isn’t just the purchase price. We have nowhere to put them.”

“Just turn them out on the mountainside or something. Right?”

Sima Geon nudged Cheol Woo’s ribs.

“Works for me. If it comes to it, I can fell some timber and put up a perimeter fence in no time.”

“There you go. Grass grows everywhere—if you keep an eye on them, they’ll thrive on their own.”

“The Boss is right. That’s how nature intended animals to be raised anyway.”

Sima Hyeon looked pained as Sima Geon and Cheol Woo shared a laugh.

“Be realistic. It isn’t that easy. We would need formal permits from the local governors. And who is going to watch over that many head of livestock? To run it at the level Old Man Jeon did, you need a full crew—and that labor isn’t free.”

“We happen to have someone who’s about to be a deadweight around here anyway.”

Cheol Woo’s face twisted into a devious smirk. Sima Hyeon blinked, then slowly nodded as the realization hit.

“Ho? Now that is an interesting thought.”

Sima Ho—who had spent every waking moment plotting vengeance for Cheon Woo Hwang, the man he believed had died in his stead—had retreated into total isolation after discovering the man had actually submitted to the Blood Banner Gang. The feeling of being betrayed by a “martyr” had left him hollow and bitter.

“If we need more hands, just recruit some of the trusted workers from Jeon’s ranch. We can find more help locally if we need to.”

Sima Geon let out a soft laugh and lifted his drink. Sima Hyeon struck his own cup against it with a bit too much force.

“Fine. To hell with it. I’ll make the arrangements.”

—

“Gods, it’s a furnace out there.”

Cheol Woo walked into the butcher shop, waving his hand in front of his face to catch a breeze.

Despite his complaints about the heat, his skin was bone-dry, showing no signs of perspiration.

“Back already?”

Sima Geon, who was tending the storefront, passed him a wooden ladle filled with water and small chunks of floating ice.

“Ice? In this weather?”

Cheol Woo tossed the payment from his recent delivery onto the wood counter and drank the water in greedy gulps.

“I chipped a piece off the block in the cellar. The water was sitting out so long it was nearly tepid, and I couldn’t stand it.”

“Ha! Smart move. Just don’t let Hyeon catch you, or he’ll have a fit.”

“He isn’t here. He went to settle accounts with the Blood Banner Gang.”

“Collecting for that massive banquet they held a while back?”

“The very one.”

“Those greedy vultures. That was weeks ago—they’re only paying now? What a joke.”

Cheol Woo drained the rest of the ladle and spat out a curse.

“I’ll be happy as long as they actually pay.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“They weren’t going to volunteer the money. Hyeon went there specifically to extract it from them.”

Cheol Woo’s gaze sharpened.

“Isn’t that risky, Boss? Those thugs have been acting like they own the streets lately.”

“He claimed he could manage the situation, so we just have to wait.”

“Fine. Is this the last of the cold water?”

Cheol Woo rattled the empty ladle, his thirst unquenched.

“It is.”

“Can’t we just get one more chunk? There’s plenty left in the cellar.”

“No. Remember what the Old Man told us? We’re barely going to make it to the winter freeze. He didn’t stock it well last year because of his health. If we keep chipping away at it for drinks, we’ll run out of refrigeration before the season ends.”

“Understood. Man, that old guy really was prepared. I’ve heard of ministers and wealthy clans building private ice houses, but a butcher with his own ice storage? That’s a first.”

“That’s exactly why his meat was always the top choice. It never spoiled.”

“And the depth of that cellar—it’s a feat of engineering. You don’t just dig a hole like that overnight. Who thinks to put ventilation shafts in an ice pit?”

Cheol Woo shook his head, still impressed by the memory of his first time seeing the storage.

“It’s the only reason we’re still in business. Without it, we’d be losing half our inventory in this humidity.”

“Tell me about it. We’d be spending all day salting and smoking just to save the scraps. Ha!”

Just as Cheol Woo let out a laugh and tried to lick the remaining moisture from the ladle, Sima Hyeon walked through the door.

“Hey, there he is. Welcome back…”

Cheol Woo’s greeting died in his throat.

Sima Hyeon looked haggard. His garments were stained with grime and dirt, and his left eye was puffed up and bruised a dark shade of crimson.

“What the hell happened to you?”

Cheol Woo jumped to his feet.

“Give me some water.”

Sima Hyeon dismissed the question with a tired wave of his hand.

Sima Geon handed him the ladle.

Sima Hyeon drank it down in one go, then looked at the bucket.

“Did you take ice from the storage?”

The ice had melted, but the temperature of the water gave it away instantly.

“I told you both to stop using the ice. It’t won’t last until the cold months if we’re this careless.”

Sima Hyeon glared at them with his one good eye.

“That’s not what matters right now. Lean in here for a second.”

Sima Geon reached out and gently poked at the bruised skin around his eye.

“Who did this?”

“It’s nothing to worry about.”

Sima Hyeon swatted Sima Geon’s hand away and looked toward the wall.

Cheol Woo was already radiating a murderous energy, staring in the direction of the gang’s territory.

“It was those Blood Banner Gang bastards, wasn’t it?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me. You went there for the collection. Those pieces of—”

Cheol Woo began to roar in anger, but Sima Geon threw the wooden ladle at him to shut him up.

“Be quiet. Control yourself.”

The cold, sharp tone of Sima Geon’s voice brought Cheol Woo to an immediate halt.

“Tell us the truth. What happened at the meeting?”

Sima Hyeon looked at Sima Geon, realized he wasn’t getting out of it, and sighed.

“They refused to pay the full amount. When I stood my ground and demanded the rest, they decided to get physical.”

“I knew it.”

Cheol Woo’s knuckles turned white as he balled his fists.

Sima Geon’s expression remained unreadable as he asked his next question.

“How much did they actually hand over?”

“Roughly half of the total.”

Sima Geon’s stiff posture relaxed just a fraction.

“Half isn’t a total disaster.”

“It is when you consider the labor we put in. It’s a loss. We could have sold that meat to people who actually pay their debts,” Cheol Woo argued, his voice thick with resentment.

“I agree. It wasn’t just a couple of steaks. They feasted on our best stock. They never had any intention of paying in full. Boss, let me go down there and settle the bill. Come on!”

Cheol Woo grabbed Sima Hyeon by the arm, ready to drag him out, but Sima Geon let out a long sigh.

“And do what, exactly?”

“Get what’s ours.”

⟶ Telepathy
*You are well aware of who is pulling the strings behind the Blood Banner Gang.*
Knowing Sima Hyeon was listening, Sima Geon used a silent mental transmission to speak to Cheol Woo.

Cheol Woo scoffed, his mind flashing to the Bi Do Association.

“So what if they have patrons…”

⟶ Telepathy
*The individuals we encountered at the Dongsim Association? The Bi Do Association couldn’t dream of handling them. There is a deeper shadow behind this. You saw them—the ones lurking and watching from the corners. If they decide to step in, it won’t be a clean fight. Do you really want to turn all of Soheung into a war zone? It will bring nothing but ruin.*

⟶ Telepathy
*Ruin? I’ll just put them all in the ground. Problem solved.*

⟶ Telepathy
*You kill them, and more will arrive to investigate. Are you prepared to kill every messenger they send?*

“Hmm… okay, I see your point.”

Cheol Woo nodded slowly, leaving Sima Hyeon looking utterly baffled.

“What is going on with you two?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Sima Geon gave the dismissive Cheol Woo a cold look before continuing.

“Causing a scene won’t help Ho’s situation either. He’s already at his breaking point with the Blood Banner Gang.”

“That’s true.”

Cheol Woo chewed on his lip, thinking of Sima Ho, who had been out in the fields for days learning the trade ever since accepting Old Man Jeon’s offer.

“So we just take the hit, Boss? We let them rob us?”

“For now, yes. It isn’t a crippling loss. Just treat it like a bite from a stray dog.”

“Damn it! Stray dogs are supposed to be beaten with clubs.”

As Cheol Woo continued to stew in his anger, Sima Geon nudged him toward the back.

“I’m going to pull some liquor from the cellar. Let’s have a drink and move past this. Alcohol is the best way to drown a temper.”

The mention of “liquor” immediately perked Cheol Woo up, and he slumped back into his chair.

“Fine, I’ll let it go for your sake, Boss—but stray dogs don’t learn. If you let them get away with it, they’ll just come back for another bite. What do we do then?”

Sima Geon stopped at the entrance to the cellar and looked back over his shoulder.

“Then, just like you said, we start swinging the clubs.”