Chapter 2. Investment is Needed (1)

The fight was over.

The bandits, leaving the bodies of their fallen comrades behind, fled up the mountain. As the bandits ran away, the chief of the convoy, the biao tou, declared the end of the pursuit.

"Quickly tidy up. We will leave this area within half an hour. Load the wounded onto the carts first.

Goods that have lost their value can be abandoned.

Regardless of whether you are a porter or a biao shi, everyone should grab onto the loads! Evacuation is the priority."

It was a wise decision.

We had barely won, but fundamentally, this was the bandits' territory. The moment reinforcements came down from their hideout somewhere, we wouldn't be able to withstand them with our current strength.

If we lingered or, worse, pursued them while riding the momentum, we could be ambushed and wiped out.

Fortunately, the biao tou wasn't a rookie.

If he had been, I would have run without looking back just to save myself.

Hastily, I shouldered the sedan chair carrying the goods and noticed a discarded sedan chair nearby. The peculiarly shaped chair belonged to someone I knew.

I couldn't remember his name, but I remembered his surname. It was definitely Han. He had boasted about this unique sedan chair from his hometown, saying it could easily move even the heaviest loads.

Looking around, I saw his face, but his body was nowhere to be found.

'What a mess.'

Being a porter comes with such risks.

After a quick headcount, it was confirmed that five porters, including Han, had died. Four biao shi had also perished.

For a group that started with about thirty people, the casualties were severe due to the unexpected ambush.

A convoy isn't usually this spectacular. Normally, when bandits come down, they say, "We're here to collect the toll," and the convoy responds, "Sure!" and pays the toll to pass.

But this time, before any talk of the toll, they ambushed us in a group. This was unusual.

Of course, not all bandits just collect tolls and leave peacefully. There are regular bandits and irregular bandits, like the Somali style, where hungry farmers decide, "I want to be a bandit!"

These irregular bandits, lacking roots and driven by the desire for a big score, tend to attack first and ask questions later. They are the very scoundrels who disrupt the industry.

However, this wasn't the case this time.

The Wujiang Mountain, where we were ambushed, is home to the Wujiang Mountain Bandit Camp, a place with a history and tradition of regular bandits.

In such a place, irregular bandits don't dare to act. They might end up being re-educated and turned into bandit slaves if they cause trouble in someone else's territory.

I couldn't guess why things turned out this way, but it seemed their business strategy had changed.

'At least we survived.'

Looking at the biao shi, they all had deathly expressions. Many were injured or had lost comrades, and after the intense battle, they seemed reluctant to shoulder the loads, but even the biao tou, who also shouldered a load, said nothing.

Everyone hurriedly pushed the carts and carried the loads down the mountain.

In the suffocating silence and fear, we hurriedly descended for two hours (four hours) and, fortunately, managed to escape the bandits' pursuit and get out of the mountain.

* * *

"Phew..."

"We barely survived."

"It was a fierce battle."

Once we felt safe, everyone, including the biao tou, let out deep sighs of relief and collapsed on the ground. The biao tou didn't even stop them.

It had been a grueling march.

The surroundings were already shrouded in darkness.

"We should camp around here. You two, go find a suitable place to rest."

The biao tou pointed at me and another biao shi.

Isn't this a biao shi's job?

But his voice was so strict that I didn't even think of objecting. It wasn't the right atmosphere to use the avoidance technique, "What, me? Why?"

Eh, it's not a difficult task.

The biao shi I was paired with was named Sima Yu. I was worried about awkwardness, but fortunately, he had a very sociable personality.

While looking for a campsite, we chatted for a while.

"I saw you fight the bandits earlier. For a porter, you were impressive."

"Well, in this world, you need to have some skills to survive, don't you?"

"You were quite skilled. You don't seem to be from around here... Where are you from?"

"I'm from Goryeo. I came by boat, just like that."

In fact, it had been over a hundred years since Joseon was founded, but these people still didn't understand if I didn't call it Goryeo, so I just gave up and used that name.

Whether Goryeo or Joseon, I'm still Korean.

I can understand their confusion. Even in modern times, people still called Sri Lanka "Ceylon" long after it changed its name in 1972. Many thought they were different countries. Names of distant countries often don't get much attention from the general public.

To them, Goryeo was as uninteresting as Sri Lanka is to us.

"Did you learn those martial arts in your hometown?"

"Of course. I learned swordsmanship here, but my hand-to-hand combat skills are from my hometown."

The mural in a Goguryeo tomb from the mid-4th century depicts a person using a kick. Fortunately, he didn't suspect anything and nodded.

"Goryeo people are known for their fighting skills, and you certainly live up to that reputation."

"Thank you."

We laughed warmly and found a suitable campsite after about ten minutes.

"How about this place?"

The spot I pointed to was a small basin.

It was good for defense with hills behind it, and the entrance was narrow, making it easy to block with carts. The flat ground was also suitable for setting up a camp, making it an ideal location.

"Indeed. You seem to have some field knowledge?"

"I served in the military for a few years back home, so I learned a bit."

"In the military? Hmm."

He looked at me with pity, as if I were a pitiful figure.

...Even in pre-modern times, conscription was still a source of sympathy.

But without the skills I learned in the military, I probably would have died as soon as I arrived here.

This martial world, or rather, this pre-modern world, is not a forgiving environment.

There's a reason people in the old days stuck together in villages. A village is the smallest unit of organization that protects and supports you. Without such an organization, surviving as a lone outsider is incredibly difficult, even if you have an extra life.

I often found myself in situations where I could starve to death, and when I managed to get some spare change through begging, beggars would come with clubs to take it from me.

What? Just beggars? Not at all.

You should never underestimate beggars.

They see blood more often than most martial artists. With nothing to lose, they are ruthless.

Of course, if they harm civilians, the authorities will come and beat them severely, but among themselves, they are different.

Even if they kill each other, the constables don't bother to investigate, treating it as "just beggars' business." They live like wild animals.

They are, in a sense, outlaws.

For the first year after I arrived in this martial world, I almost always slept in the mountains. Sleeping in the mountains was better than dying from a sword.

If I hadn't learned how to forage for herbs and roots during my military service, I would have died long ago.

Sima Yu kept chatting with the group on the way back and suddenly brought up this topic.

"By the way, have you ever considered becoming a biao shi? It seems a waste for someone with your skills to be a porter."

"Well, as an outsider... There are issues with my background and such."

"Indeed, it can be tricky with the barbarians."

What the hell? What's a "barbarian"?

You racist bastard.

"Still, you've shown your fighting skills and your sense of responsibility in protecting the goods. I'm sure the biao tou has noticed you.

Our Baiyun Escort Agency doesn't discriminate against barbarians. We only look at ability."

Calling someone a "barbarian" is itself a prejudice.

Still, his offer was tempting.

A job offer... It was the first one I received since arriving in this martial world.

Of course, I'm not attracted to Baiyun Escort Agency because it's successful.

In society, when someone says, "We only look at ability," it often means, "We are a small company."

Have you ever seen a large company that only looks at ability? They check everything from your family background to your personality.

Even with such thorough checks, problematic employees still slip through, so not doing so would be chaotic.

But small companies can't afford to be that picky. They have to focus on the most important thing: "ability."

In that sense, Baiyun Escort Agency was clearly a small company. They operated in Hubei, Sichuan, and Anhui provinces, not the entire Central Plains.

But even so, it was a significant offer for someone like me, who barely made a living through hard labor.

In modern terms, I'm in a position similar to an illegal foreign worker. Being a porter is one thing, but being hired as a regular biao shi is a dream.

"Is it possible for someone like me to become a biao shi at a place like Baiyun Escort Agency?"

"Of course. I'll put in a good word with the branch manager. Come visit us later."

Sima Yu laughed and patted my back.

The sound echoed far and wide.

* * *

Fortunately, there was no pursuit from the bandits, and a week later, we reached our destination, Mayang County.

Although some goods were lost, it wasn't a major issue. I received the promised two taels of silver and bowed deeply.

"Thank you!"

"Next."

Two taels of silver. This is a lot of money.

One tael could buy two shi of rice, so two taels could buy enough to save 0.013 people from starvation.

'Yes. I should buy a chicken for some nourishment... Yes. I should have a cup of rice wine... Hehehe.'

Then a thought suddenly crossed my mind.

The biao shi position at Baiyun Escort Agency that Sima Yu suggested.

"Ugh..."

Suddenly, I was in a dilemma.

I've been in this martial world for three years and have worked as a porter in various places. I know quite a bit about what being a biao shi entails.

Being a biao shi is more about experience, knowledge, physical strength, character, and leadership than martial arts. The job is to transport goods, not to fight.

But that doesn't mean martial arts are unnecessary.

This convoy alone shows that martial arts are crucial. In matters involving wealth, such fights are inevitable, so martial arts can't be ignored.

'If I become a biao shi...'

How long could I survive in the tough world of biao shi with the few tricks I learned haphazardly?

With good luck, I might survive for a dozen years or so. But by then, I'd be in my forties, past my prime.

At that age, it would be hard to make a living by physical labor.

If I had cultivated martial arts, I might be able to extend my career a few more years with the power of internal energy.

But without that... At best, I'd be a third-rate warrior, and without extraordinary luck, I'd have to retire.

'The money I save by then won't be much.'

Without savings or decent martial arts, the life of a retired biao shi is predictable.

The lucky ones might stay with the escort agency to help with odd jobs or work as security at a gambling den or tavern.

Most return to their hometowns or fade away into the night. That's often the end for those who make a living by physical labor.

'I need to think about this.'

Using this money for living expenses wouldn't be bad, but that's not what I need right now.

I need an investment.

An investment in myself.

I forced myself to swallow the thought of a well-fattened hen.

Now is not the time to eat a chicken.

It's time to incubate the eggs.