Ch. 3 Murim Psychopath Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Horse Stable Hireling Sosam

Hireling.

It referred to someone who, unable to keep food on the table, had no choice but to live off another household as a dependent lodger and be worked at the whim of an employer. Put simply, a servant.

Though a hireling and an employer were technically bound by contract, such documents were usually either worthless scraps or the very chains that bound them. Contracts were rarely overseen by the authorities; they were held by the employers, who could tear them up or rewrite them whenever it suited their whims. Hirelings within martial sects were particularly pitiable, existing as something closer to slaves. Under the traditional principle of non-interference between the government and the martial world, officials turned a blind eye to the inner workings of a sect's estate.

They knew exploitation was the rule, but the plight of a servant was beneath the dignity of the law.They knew exploitation was the rule, but the plight of a servant was beneath the dignity of the law.

● ● ●

Sosam was a horse stable hireling of the Danri Family.

He was born the third son of an impoverished farmer, scratching a living from the hills. Their life had been meager, but it had been happy, until a typhoon struck when he was five years old. The storm claimed his entire family, leaving him the solitary survivor of a washed-away home.

After that, Sosam lived as a drifting beggar without any registered household. Then, for the single reason that he knocked on the gate of the Danri Family to beg for food, he became a hireling of the Danri Family.

Since then, he had spent over ten years taking care of the family’s horses.

As was only natural, he took on all the dirty work within the family estate as a servant. Not only cleaning the estate, but sometimes doing menial tasks in the kitchen, and at times he even had to clean the latrines. Though his official title was stable hireling, the only times he felt the truth of it were during the morning and evening walks with the beasts, and when he collapsed into his bed, a pile of straw in the corner of the stable itself.

Living among the animals, his skin and hair became saturated with a permanent, pungent musk: the scent of rotting hay, horse sweat, and manure. It was a stench that caused even the other servants to recoil.

For such reasons, the people of the family estate called him not by his real name, Sosam, but by Mabyeonsam[a].

Ma from horse stable hireling, Byeon because he smelled like horse manure, and Sam from Sosam.

To Mabyeonsam, the Danri Family estate was the only home he knew, yet it was also his own personal Fengdu Prison—the gate to the underworld.

● ● ●

Today was no different from any other grueling cycle of labor.

One of the military hirelings, Machil, had requisitioned Mabyeonsam for his own personal errands and worked him hard. It was a frequent occurrence, and it was possible because no one ever paid any attention to Mabyeonsam. Among the hirelings at the very bottom, Mabyeonsam occupied the very lowest rung.

The two of them had come to a weapons shop in Bongyang to receive the weapons custom-made for the warriors of the Danri Family.

“Machil is here, is he?”

The shop owner came out and greeted Machil first. The Danri Family was the largest sect in Bongyang, so wherever one went in Bongyang, they were the biggest customer at any weapons shop. Naturally, this shop owner also supplied many weapons to the Danri Family and was well acquainted with Machil, a military hireling of the Danri Family.

“I’ve come for the order,” Machil said. “The spears, halberds, swords, blades, and spikes we requested a month ago.”

“Ah, you’ve come at the right time. I haven't slept a full night in weeks, but I finished the last of them yesterday.”

The weapons shop owner let out the usual merchant’s complaints as he brought out the finished goods. The quantity was enormous, and only after going back and forth to the storeroom several times did he manage to place all the weapons in front of Machil.

Machil gave the weapons a cursory glance and tossed over the payment. He wasn't the one who would be swinging them, so as long as they looked sharp, he didn't care about the craftsmanship.

“Are the two of you really going to carry all this?” the owner asked, looking at the lack of a cart. “It’s a long trek back to the estate.”

“What’s there to worry about? There’s such a fine horse right here.”

Machil sneered as he spoke and slammed his fist hard into the chest of Mabyeonsam, who was standing beside him.

Thud—.

Emaciated and little more than skin and bones, Mabyeonsam was sent helplessly tumbling across the weapons shop floor by Machil’s punch.

The shop owner merely shook his head and turned away. It wasn't his business, and in Bongyang, no one dared interfere with the internal discipline of the Danri Family. Everyone knew Sosam’s situation, and everyone remained silent. Such miseries were common enough in the Central Plains.

“Hey, Mabyeonsam. What are you doing? Get up right now and start moving the weapons. Unless you want to die just like that.”

“….”

Without letting out a single groan, Mabyeonsam got up and slung as many weapons over his shoulders as he could carry. Today would probably be spent entirely just hauling these weapons back into the family estate.

“I’ve got business at the Bongyang Inn, so I’ll be there. Once you’ve moved everything, come there. Got it?”

“….”

Mabyeonsam merely nodded without replying. With his poor nutritional state, conserving even his speech was a method of survival in its own way. However, not answering was hardly an excellent tactic for getting by.

Thud.

Machil punched Mabyeonsam squarely in the face. Mabyeonsam collapsed to the ground once more. A faint trace of blood stained the corner of his mouth, as if his lip had split.

“You bastard. When I talk to you, you answer. Do you think I’m beneath you just because we share the same surname?”

“N-no, sir….”

At last, Mabyeonsam opened his mouth. Just like his shriveled, tightly drawn body, his voice was utterly impoverished, dry and brittle like parched sand. Even as he spoke, blood streamed steadily out of his mouth. It was not only his lips that had split, his tongue and the roof of his mouth had been badly torn as well.

Thud.

Seeing Mabyeonsam bleeding, Machil kicked him in the face again. This time the impact was greater, and Mabyeonsam rolled helplessly all the way to the corner of the weapons shop before crashing into it.

Even with what little strength he had, he forced himself to lift his head and look at Machil. The whites of his eyes were streaked red from burst blood vessels, and his gaze seemed to say this.

Why? Why? Why…?

“Damn it,” Machil spat. “Now you’ve splattered blood all over the weapons. What a curse. You’re a useless piece of trash, no help at all.”

Just for that…?

Mabyeonsam, no, Sosam, was truly miserable. Living day by day was unbearably hard, and he wanted nothing more than to die. But mustering the courage to die was not easy either. Every time he tried to kill himself, fear overtook him, and he gave up.

Each time, he swore again to live diligently with the courage it took to die… but before long, the desire to die would return. As this repeated over and over, even the will to keep living had mostly drained away.

Unable to die, yet unable to live either….

Sosam loathed himself for being such a coward, neither one thing nor the other.

Groping along the wall, he barely managed to pull himself to his feet.

Stagger, stagger.

Even as he tottered, he approached Machil.

Tap, tap. Machil lightly pushed Mabyeonsam’s forehead with his finger. Then came the sneering tone.

“Move all the weapons and wipe off every bit of the blood that splattered. I’ll check later, and if there’s even a single drop left, you’d better be ready to cough up a bucketful of blood from your mouth for every drop. Got it?”

“Yes….”

With that final threat, Machil left the weapons shop. Just as he had said earlier, he was heading to the Bongyang Inn.

Sosam knew well why Machil was going there. Nine times out of ten, he was going to see Aeng-aeng. Machil would spend his time there fondling Aeng-aeng’s bare skin until Sosam finished hauling all the weapons.

Wipe, wipe.

Using a scrap of old cloth the shop owner handed him, Sosam wiped the blood from his mouth. It was the only help the shop owner could offer. It was truly nothing much, but Sosam’s eyes stung with tears. Within the Danri Family, there was not even anyone who would do this much for him. He was nothing more than the most useless and foul-smelling hireling in the estate, lower than a bug.

He returned the blood-soaked rag, whispered his thanks, and slung two heavy spears over his shoulders.

● ● ●

Huff, huff.

Ragged breaths spilled out.

Drip, drip.

Sweat poured down his face, stinging his eyes.

By the time the sun began to dip, Sosam had finished. He was a hollowed-out shell of a human being. The shop owner watched him with a look of growing alarm.

“Why don’t you rest for a bit? Your complexion isn’t good. It’s almost like….”

The shop owner swallowed the rest of his words, that he looked like someone about to die. He felt that saying such unlucky words might make them come true.

“I’m fine….”

After saying that, Sosam moved his body again. Every bone in his body creaked, and his muscles screamed for him to rest, but he had to keep moving.

Leaving behind the shop owner’s pitiful gaze, Sosam exited the weapons shop.

Staggering as if he were about to die, he took one step after another toward the Bongyang Inn. Perhaps because he had overexerted himself, his breathing grew dangerously rough, and sweat streamed down. If he pushed himself even a little more in this state, it felt like he might truly die.

Even so, he somehow managed not to collapse and arrived at the Bongyang Inn.

“Stop.”

“Wh-why… is that?”

“Why?” the inn attendant scoffed, blocking the door. “Look at you, you filthy bastard. Do you think I’d let something like you inside?”

“….”

The attendant pinched his nose in disgust. Sosam was a sight beyond words—a mixture of old grime, fresh blood, and the salt of his sweat, all layered over the permanent stench of the stables. He looked like a corpse that had spent a week in a gutter.

Resigned, Sosam asked the attendant to relay the message to Machil and turned away. He knew Machil would beat him later for not reporting in person, but he had no choice. If he didn't lie down soon, he wouldn't last the night.

“…I’m tired. I just… want to rest….”

His heart was running toward the Danri Family’s stable, shabby, but the place he called home, yet his body would not obey. He was so exhausted that he wanted to lie down right there on the road. At this point, it even seemed like it might be easier to just collapse from exhaustion and die.

Damn it, damn it.

Contrary to those thoughts, perhaps he still wanted to live, even now.

Despite his exhaustion, a small, stubborn part of him still clung to life. He continued to stagger through the streets of Bongyang, which were now bathed in the bloody red light of the setting sun.

Hk… heh heh.

A distorted laugh escaped his torn lips. Sosam… are you really going to cling to this bug’s life?

“Yeah… I am. Even like this…”

I don’t want to die.

Let’s live. If I keep living, maybe a better day will come.

“Hey, Mabyeonsam.”

A voice cut through the fog of his fatigue.

Sosam lifted his heavy, drooping eyes. His vision was a blur of red and grey, but he forced his head up to find the speaker.

Thud.

He felt himself collide with a solid chest—the person he assumed the voice belonged to.

[a](TL/N: 마변삼 = Mabyeonsam is a demeaning nickname combining “horse”, “manure”, and “Sam” implying someone filthy and less than human.)