The place where I opened my eyes was on the back of a running horse.
+ Interest
Beside me, a riderless horse was galloping along in tandem.
The moment I turned my head to look at the empty horse, memories of the short life of the boy who was the original owner of this body seeped into my mind.
The owner of this body was a boy who had just turned 11.
He was 11 by the Korean age system, but in reality, he was only 9 years old.
And just a moment ago, he became an orphan when his Father died, and at that very same moment, the boy died as well.
The boy’s name was Lee Myeong-jin, the son of a Smuggler living in Gyeongheung Do-hobu at the very edge of Hamgyeong-do.
Because his Father could not leave his motherless young son, Lee Myeong-jin, alone while he worked, he took the boy with him across the Tuman River.
His Father owned two horses.
He would load them with contraband to sell in Russia, and upon returning, he would sell Western goods that were popular in Joseon.
Fortunately, the boy was still young and small, so the horse could carry him even with a significant amount of cargo.
They had been repeating this work for two years, so it was already a lifestyle the boy was accustomed to.
However, luck was not on their side this time.
It wasn’t even a mountain path; they had encountered a notorious gang of Chinese Ma-jeok right in the middle of a plain.
His Father was quick to judge.
As soon as he realized the people approaching on horseback were a gang of Ma-jeok, he threw all the goods purchased in Russia that were tied to the horses’ backs onto the ground and turned the horses to flee.
In such cases, if one was lucky, the Ma-jeok would simply collect the goods scattered on the ground and turn back.
But this time, the opponents were too vicious.
Whether the Ma-jeok were greedy for the horses ridden by Lee Myeong-jin and his Father or not, they didn’t even glance at the scattered luggage and pursued them.
Since it was a deserted area anyway, they could collect the luggage later, and if they gave chase now, they had a chance to gain two more horses.
Having shed the heavy cargo, the horses carrying Lee Myeong-jin and his Father ran quite well.
However, they were horses trained to carry loads in the first first place, and his Father’s horsemanship was not particularly excellent.
The Ma-jeok chasing them were people for whom riding horses was life itself, so the distance gradually narrowed.
This was the first time such a thing had happened to Lee Myeong-jin, so he couldn’t properly grasp the situation, but his Father knew exactly how dangerous their position was.
With the mind to save at least his son, Lee Myeong-jin, his Father lashed the rump of the horse Lee Myeong-jin was riding.
The horse carrying Lee Myeong-jin ran even faster.
Since it was carrying the light Lee Myeong-jin, it had more strength to begin with.
The distance between the horse his Father rode and the horse Lee Myeong-jin rode widened.
The young Lee Myeong-jin had followed his Father for two years, but this was a first.
Paralyzed with fear, he lay flat on the horse’s back, merely hoping the horse would run well.
Bang!
The sound of a gunshot echoed from behind, and Lee Myeong-jin realized that the horse his Father had been riding was now following beside him.
The boy tried to lift his body and turn his head to call for his Father.
Bang!
In that instant, another gunshot rang out.
Before the young Lee Myeong-jin could even realize that his Father was no longer on the horse beside him, he was struck in the head by a bullet and died instantly.
Perhaps because the young Lee Myeong-jin’s hands, which were tightly gripping the reins, had stiffened, he did not fall from the horse.
The horse carrying him and the horse that had dropped his Father were able to run even faster than before thanks to their relatively lighter bodies, widening the distance as they fled from the Ma-jeok.
The God of Another World, who sent me here, pushed my soul into the body of the young Lee Myeong-jin and healed the wound on his head in an instant.
And at that moment, the memories of the boy who had been the owner of the body rushed into my head.
The memories of the young Lee Myeong-jin didn’t just clutter my mind; they unsettled my very heart.
The boy’s affection for his Father, and the desperate sacrifice of the Father who tried to save at least his son.
The memories of this moment merged my soul and the dead boy’s body into one.
I looked at the horse his Father had been riding.
His Father had dumped all the goods meant for sale in Russia, but the rifle slotted next to the saddle remained.
In this region where both humans and wild beasts were dangerous, a gun was an essential item for smuggling.
I pulled out the rifle and took the leather bullet pouch hanging next to the saddle, fastening it to my waist.
The rifle was longer than my height, but it wasn’t extremely heavy.
As I crossed into this era, I received several perks, among which were Enhanced Physicality.
I had no intention of just fleeing on the horse.
If I die, this world becomes unstable and shaky? So what?
If I hold back this rage right now, I feel like I’ll die anyway.
If this world shouldn’t become unstable, then the boy Lee Myeong-jin and his Father shouldn’t have died either, right?
They took his Father’s life like that, so I wish they would stop with the bullshit about holding back for the stability of this world.
I stopped the horse and tried shouldering the rifle.
Other than the length of the rifle, which was longer than my height, being slightly inconvenient, it didn’t particularly hinder me.
However, the length of the buttstock was too long compared to my arm length, which was the most uncomfortable part.
Of course, that didn’t mean I couldn’t fire it.
I took four bullets out of the bullet pouch at my waist, loaded one, and tucked the remaining three between the fingers of my left hand.
A US-made Springfield M1866 Trapdoor single-shot rifle.
The ammunition was 50-70 Government.
When the U.S. Army standardized their ammunition to 45-70, they sold off the M1866 rifles, which had become obsolete using 50-70 rounds, to the civilian market at bargain prices.
The manager of Kunst and Albers, who happened to be in the United States, purchased a large quantity and brought them to the Russian Primorsky Krai to sell.
His Father had purchased this rifle along with 200 rounds of ammunition for 20 rubles.
To buy a rifle of this grade brand new, one would have to pay 50 rubles.
Since Kunst and Albers reportedly bought them for about 2 dollars each including ammunition, that’s roughly 3 rubles.
Selling something bought for 3 rubles for 20 rubles might make them seem like the worst kind of thieves, but it couldn’t be helped since all Western goods were expensive here in Primorsky Krai.
It hasn’t even been 20 years since Russia received Primorsky Krai from China, and even in Vladivostok, the most central area, there are still more soldiers than civilians if you count only Russians, excluding Koreans and Chinese.
Because Kunst and Albers imported and sold all sorts of Western goods from Europe and the United States in a place like this, you couldn’t really call it especially expensive.
I was currently at a ridge, so I was not within the Ma-jeok’s sight.
I stopped the horse there for now and hid myself in the thicket, observing the Ma-jeok approaching from beyond the ridge.
Even though there was quite a distance, those Ma-jeok bastards didn’t lower their voices at all, so the sound of them chattering in Chinese was clearly audible.
Thanks to the Foreign Language Perk I received upon returning to this era, I understood their Chinese perfectly.
“Brother, even if we leave that corpse back there for the beasts to deal with, shouldn’t we go back for the cargo?”
“Who is out here to take it? If someone pops out to grab it, we’ll just kill them too and take what they have.”
“True, those two horses are valuable too.”
“That brat was shot, so he won’t last long. You guys know how it is—even if a horse runs well at first, they don’t keep it up once the owner is gone. Besides, we need those horses to haul the goods properly. We have to catch them.”
“True, it’ll be much easier to carry the loot if we have those horses. If it weren’t for you, Brother, we might have just taken the luggage and let those Joseon bastards get away.”
Watching from my hiding spot in the brush, I saw two guys who looked like the leaders approaching this way while talking.
One of them was holding a rifle identical to mine.
There were eight Ma-jeok in total, all on horseback, and most were armed with old muzzle-loading rifles or matchlocks.
Only the one who appeared to be the boss held a breech-loading single-shot rifle.
Ma-jeok are generally poorly armed, but that doesn’t mean they don’t make efforts to strengthen their armament.
I had heard they try to get their hands on the latest weapons by any means necessary.
Perhaps that Ma-jeok boss bought his gun from Kunst and Albers in Vladivostok, just like my Father.
One might wonder how a Ma-jeok could enter Vladivostok, which is heavily guarded by the Russian Army, to buy a gun, but those guys aren’t originally thieves—they’re just Chinese farmers.
Those guys, whom the Russians mainly call Honghuzi, are called Tobi in China and Ma-jeok in Joseon.
The word Honghuzi is said to have come from the Chinese word for ‘Red Beard,’ but there were various theories as to why they would call Chinese people, who all have black hair and beards, ‘Red Beard.’
Some said the Chinese called the Russians that, but at some point it flipped and the Russians began calling the Chinese that.
Others said it originated from the beards of dolls or masks made in the likeness of characters from novels like Romance of the Three Kingdoms or Water Margin, which the Ma-jeok worship.
No one knows for sure.
Regardless, they weren’t people who took up banditry as a profession from the start, but farmers living and farming here in the Manchuria region.
They usually farm, but during the off-season, some of them form groups to become Ma-jeok and plunder this Russian area, the Joseon border, and the Manchuria region.
Therefore, even a ferocious Ma-jeok here would be indistinguishable from an ordinary farmer once they return home and lay down their weapons.
Right now, the population in this Primorsky Krai region is so small that they don’t block Joseon or Chinese immigrants from moving in at all.
Thus, if one disguises themselves as an ordinary Chinese farmer with the money earned from banditry and crosses the border, they can enter military cities like Vladivostok without any trouble.
I lay prone in the brush, shouldering the gun and observing them.
I confirmed that out of the group of eight, the only one with a modern breech-loading rifle was the one who appeared to be the boss.
The weapons the rest of them had were all matchlocks made in China, and they all wore swords.
That would have been enough to make money through banditry.
After all, those guys don’t pressure their opponents with superior weapons, but with numbers.
So, they jump easy targets with those numbers, and when aiming for larger goals, several of such groups unite to form a mob of hundreds, in which case even matchlocks become quite a threat.
The first target I had to aim for was, naturally, the boss holding the modern rifle.
I aimed for the Ma-jeok boss’s heart, then shifted my aim to his right shoulder.
Thinking of my Father’s death, I could never let them die easily.
I didn’t have the slightest thought of losing.
The gifts the God of Another World gave me upon returning to this era were many, and among them were Swordsmanship, Marksmanship, and Martial Arts.
On top of that, although my body was small, I had the physical strength and stamina of an adult or more.
Bang!
The first bullet was fired.
The boss, who was approaching while joking with the subordinate next to him, dropped his gun and screamed.
“Argh! This…!”
But my gun was faster than his words.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
I quickly loaded the bullets I had tucked between my fingers and fired in succession.
Three more were hit in the right shoulder, dropping their matchlocks or falling from their horses.
The remaining men looked around frantically, searching for where the shots were fired from.
If the bullets I fired had used smokeless powder, I might have been able to hide myself a bit longer, but this is an era where smokeless powder has not yet been invented.
This damn black powder left a thick cloud of smoke after firing, and my location was immediately discovered.
Once my hiding spot was found, the remaining Ma-jeok didn’t just stand there; they drew their swords and charged toward me.
I hurriedly took out a bullet and loaded it.
From the beginning, the distance between me and the Ma-jeok was close enough to hear their voices, and since the Ma-jeok were on horseback, they reached me in no time.
I hurriedly took a bullet from the pouch and loaded the gun.
Bang! Bang!
Two gunshots rang out, and two more guys went down.
However, the remaining two had already reached my immediate vicinity.
There was no more time to load the gun.
I hurriedly got up, ran, and hid behind the pine tree standing right next to me.
The two Ma-jeok charged toward the pine tree where I was hiding, and in an instant, a clattering sound was heard.
The horses’ legs had caught on the ropes I had tied up in advance before firing.
Before shooting them, I had tied ropes at the height of a horse’s shins so that any horse charging at me would trip.
However, because the ropes weren’t long enough, I could only tie them next to the tree where I would momentarily take cover.
I thought I would gain time to load the gun as the horses collapsed, but one of the Ma-jeok who fell with his horse was an incredibly fast fellow.
While the other one couldn’t move properly, perhaps having broken something when he fell with his horse, this one jumped straight off the falling horse, ran toward me, and raised his sword.
His villainously grinning face entered my sight.
It was likely a grin of certain victory upon seeing that I was just a kid, but I had one more weapon left.
It was the bayonet I had fixed to the muzzle.
***