제 88 부

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Sae Joo felt a tight grip on his wrist from behind. He looked back, nonplussed to see a lady, covered with a red jang-ot veil. She craned her head towards the ramp, digging her trembling nails to the Prince's skin. "Agassi, I know this is a random favor, but could I come with you, please? I won't cause any inconvenience."

He darted his eyes towards the rushing men and back to the young woman. An inkling clarified his cloud of suspicions. He then realized that none of Silla's hwarangs wore pink colors. "I suppose you are trying to escape from those men."

The woman stumped her feet and pinched Sae Joo's wrist, exploding into a big, fat confirmation. "Yes!"

"Ouch!" Sae Joo flinched and jolted the woman's hand, his eyes scowling at her.

"Forgive me, uh," she heaved a long breath while her stiff fingers twitched frantically — "if I have been rough. Please, please? I'd give you anything you ask." She rubbed her palms vigorously and looked up to the masked pig like a lost puppy. "Please, please, please."

"Alright... just keep quiet!" he hissed.

"Yes! Thank you so much! Let's go now, please!"

Studying her appearance, Sae Joo thought of her as his female counterpart. A reflection of himself, but perhaps with a different story. He did not see her as a flag of threat, but as someone who has lost a certain fight, surrendered, and chose the next battle. Maybe it would not hurt to give the desperate woman a chance. Wherever she came from, a valid reason must have triggered her to run away—that none but him could understand.

He dove his hands into his pocket and gave the younger ship attendant five additional gold coins as he whispered in his ear and said, "You shall not let them in." He turned to the older creep and ordered. "Quick, show us our room."

"Right this way, marvelous ladies."

They followed him up the second level, where fluctuating, red lights dominated the active deck. Behind the dulcet sound of flutes and gentle strumming of kayagums from the puppet-like musicians playing on the stage were the rattling of the dice, the squeals and howls of the winning gamblers, and the growls of the losers, pummeling the tables in frustration. The intellectuals, on the other side, spent their night staring at the black and white stones of the Baduk board and planning their next attack. Regardless of the type of gamer they were, all of them had courtesans, either massaging their shoulders or snuggling in their arms and drinking their wines from time to time.

Sae Joo rolled his eyes as they walked past them and turned left to a hallway, for he could not comprehend the continuous activity of placing passionate musicians to play for ignorant rich people who could not even focus on listening to their crafts.

"Have you been on a ship before?" the woman asked.

"Why do you ask?"

"Time passes by slowly when you have nothing to do—when you cannot do anything."

"Where is this going?" he arched a brow, confused about the lady's prose.

"I noticed that you were annoyed..."

Sae Joo chuckled. "I was, yes. I mean, whatever happened to art"—he sighed and shook his head. "I don't even know why those poor musicians are playing that piece. The mood and the surrounding just don't match. It is a form of torture. Do you realize that?"

"For a living, I assume. It's a shame being a slave of poverty. And yes, they just do not match. Nothing clicks when you have no choice. It's as if you are obligated to do something for the benefit of the many, but you simply don't like it. At some point, you must try and stop your whining, but then you realize, when everything becomes sufficiently unreasonable, you have to stand up and make things right. I just wish those musicians would do that."

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