Episode 2: The Middle is Good
The next morning.
As soon as dawn broke, a bell rang. The children rushed to the dining hall. Breakfast was noodles with pork. It wasn’t particularly delicious, but the hungry children devoured it, even drinking the broth.
After eating, the children gathered around the dining hall. Winter had passed, and spring had arrived, but it was still chilly in the mountains.
None of them knew why they were brought here or what lay ahead. As they gathered in anxious groups, a man in black clothes approached them.
“All of you, head to the training ground over there.”
The training ground was a wide open space below. On one side, there was a platform two feet high, and next to it was a tent draped in black cloth.
As the children gathered at the training ground, about a dozen men in black lined up below the platform. Shortly after, a man who appeared to be around forty climbed onto the platform.
The man on the platform had an unusually red face. With a firm, square jaw, he spoke with a cold gaze.
“I am the Head Instructor responsible for your training, and these are the instructors. Do not ask questions or try to learn more. For the next ten years, you will learn all kinds of martial arts and knowledge. Anyone who falls behind will die by my hand.”
At the Head Instructor’s harsh expression and mention of death, one child burst into tears. The Head Instructor frowned, swiftly flew over, grabbed the child’s collar, and struck the child’s head with his fist.
Thud!
The crying child’s head cracked, and blood splattered.
The sudden, gruesome scene left the children stunned, mouths agape. They couldn’t even scream, except for one child.
“Aaah!”
One child, terrified, ran out of the training ground. Without a moment’s hesitation, the Head Instructor drew the sword from his side and threw it.
“Gah!”
The fleeing child was pierced through the back and collapsed, blood spraying.
The Head Instructor, who had killed two children in an instant as if swatting flies, glared at the remaining children.
The children froze as if turned to stone. Some even wet themselves on the spot.
Won Seung snapped back to reality. He had thought this was a decent place after eating his fill in the morning, but now he realized he was in hell.
The Head Instructor spoke to the children with cold, icy eyes.
“Anyone else want to die?”
The training ground was silent as a grave.
“If you want to die, just say so. I’ll oblige anytime.”
The children didn’t dare to make a sound.
Satisfied that his brutal display had worked, the Head Instructor saw the previously dazed eyes of the children become sharp. They would face harsh training ahead. Many would die if they acted foolishly. It was crucial to instill discipline from the start.
The Head Instructor raised his hand and pointed to the side.
“Do you see that tree on the cliff over there? Climb the cliff, circle the tree, and come back. The last one back will die.”
The children flinched and then raced off. Some grabbed the necks of the children ahead to pull themselves forward. The terrified children had no other thought. They only thought about not being the last.
When they reached the slanted cliff, they didn’t have time to think about how to climb. They just scrambled up. Some fell after a few steps, and others collided with them and tumbled down.
Won Seung ran frantically. Having grown up in a good home with plenty to eat, he was better developed than the other children. Moreover, he had learned martial arts from a martial arts teacher, so his leg strength was good. When he circled the tree at the top of the cliff and came down, he was at the front.
‘?!’
The moment Won Seung’s gaze met the Head Instructor’s from the platform, he suddenly tripped over a stone and fell. In that time, a group of children rushed past him. When Won Seung got up and ran again, he found he was slower, possibly injured from the fall.
The instructors lined up the arriving children in order and recorded their ranks.
“…Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred!”
There were exactly one hundred children. The last child stood at the end, face pale, as if about to collapse, thinking they were doomed. The instructor who counted shouted to the Head Instructor on the platform.
“There are exactly one hundred.”
The Head Instructor frowned.
‘I asked them to send a few more, and they only sent two extra?’
The Head Instructor glared at the last child.
“I’ll let it slide today since it’s the first day. But next time, there will be no mercy.”
Later, Won Seung realized why the Head Instructor spared the child. The instructors handed out necklaces with wooden tags to the children, numbered in order.
There were exactly one hundred wooden tags.
‘They intended to kill the leftover children as an example from the start.’
Thinking he might have been the one to die if he was unlucky sent chills down his spine.
Won Seung looked at his wooden tag. It read fifty. Right in the middle.
The Head Instructor spoke.
“Forget your names from now on. You will be called by the numbers on your tags, starting with Number One! After ten years of training here, you can become masters of martial arts. But those who can’t keep up with the training will die.”
Emphasizing death once more, the Head Instructor looked around at the children with a cold smile.
“Let me tell you this. I think only about twenty of you will survive out of the hundred. Only one in five will make it.”
The children were so terrified they could barely breathe.
After the Head Instructor’s threat, an instructor called the child at the front.
“Number One, enter the tent over there.”
The children were called in order by their numbers and entered the black tent.
When it was Won Seung’s turn, he entered the tent. Inside were several desks, and a man with a brush sat there.
The desk next to the man was piled with documents.
The man with the brush glanced at Won Seung and asked.
“Name.”
“I’m Number Fifty.”
The man frowned.
“Not that, your original name.”
“Agu.”
Won Seung gave a random name. He didn’t want to leave his real name in this terrifying place.
Since Jang Chil was sold as the seventh, Agu was naturally a sellable number. He figured they wouldn’t suspect.
“Agu?”
The man searched through the documents but couldn’t find the name Agu, so he frowned.
“It’s not here. Where are you from?”
“Near Hwangdo… Hagok County.”
Recalling that Jang Chil had mentioned boarding a carriage in Hagok County, Won Seung quickly answered. The man found a document from the children taken from Hagok County.
“Hmm. How sloppy.”
Won Seung peeked and saw that the name field was blank, but the origin was indeed listed as Hagok County.
‘Where is Hagok County?’
Won Seung had never heard of Hagok County and wondered why he was taken from there.
“Parents?”
Seeing that most of his document was blank, Won Seung made up a story.
“They both passed away when I was young, and I lived with others.”
The man looked at Won Seung. He found it unusual for a child to speak so clearly and logically.
Though Won Seung’s clothes were ragged and he hadn’t washed in days, his face was pale, and his hands were white and soft.
The man didn’t suspect Won Seung was lying.
“Whose house did you live in? We will verify everything, so tell the truth.”
Won Seung noticed the man examining his hands closely. He felt he needed to craft a good story this time.
“It was a house with many large halls…”
Won Seung described his own home, the Won household, vaguely.
“What did you do there?”
“I ground ink, washed brushes… and played with the young master.”
This time, he thought of his playmate and friend, Joonghyo, as he answered.
The man assumed Won Seung must have been a servant boy in a noble household. It was exactly what Won Seung intended.
In wealthy and powerful families, servant boys are often assigned to serve or play with the young master.
“Were you a servant boy?”
“Servant boy? I don’t know about that.”
“You fool. That’s why you were sold.”
The man assumed Won Seung had been dismissed for not performing his duties as a servant boy.
“What was the surname of the house owner?”
“Jang.”
Won Seung gave the most common surname.
After a few more questions, to which Won Seung gave vague answers, the man frowned. He couldn’t guess Won Seung’s background.
“What do you know, anyway?”
The man sighed. While verifying the children’s backgrounds was important, it was also a futile task.
The man knew that most of the children would die. More than half of these documents would become meaningless scraps of paper.
Feeling annoyed, the man wrote on the document: Name: Agu, Origin: Hagok County, Orphan, and Servant Boy of the Jang family.
“Get out.”
Won Seung bowed his head and left the tent.
Outside the tent, Won Seung returned to his spot and sat down.
As he looked at the line of children sitting in front of him, he suddenly thought.
‘Being Number Fifty means I’m right in the middle, huh?’
The Head Instructor had said only twenty would survive. So, finishing fiftieth in the cliff run was not good enough.
If he had really tried, he could have easily made it into the top ten. If he had used all his strength, he might have even been first. Yet, he deliberately fell behind.
When Won Seung was at home, he often played under the window of his father’s study. As a result, he sometimes overheard his father talking with guests.
In Won Seung’s eyes, officials were people who formed factions and lived by scheming to make life difficult for opposing factions.
They tried to bring down outstanding members of the opposing faction by any means necessary. People who were once famous in Hwangdo often ended up exiled. Some were even executed, and their families reduced to slavery.
Each time, his father lamented that a protruding nail gets hammered down.
When Won Seung’s gaze met the Head Instructor’s from the platform, he remembered his father’s lament. So, he deliberately tripped over a stone and fell, then ran just enough to finish in the middle.
‘But only twenty will survive! The middle is dangerous. I should have been in the top twenty.’
Looking at the children sitting in the front row, he spotted Jang Chil in the seventh position. He must be good at running as well as walking.
‘To survive safely, I need to be in the top ten.’
Won Seung resolved as he looked at the children sitting in the front row. He still had no intention of being first. Someone might get jealous and try to trip him up.
Once all the children had visited the tent, the Head Instructor waved his hand.
“Enter the dormitories in numerical order!”
An instructor came out and led Numbers One to Twenty to the first dormitory. There was no distinction between boys and girls. Won Seung, being Number Fifty, naturally went to the third dormitory.
Inside the dormitory, they were assigned beds in numerical order. As Number Fifty, Won Seung was at the end of the left row.
The instructor lined up the children on their beds and took out a wooden box from his pocket. When he opened it, a sharp medicinal smell wafted out.