The midnight bells tolled once, twice, heavy bronze notes rolling across the slums like judgment. Gu Chil charged with a guttural roar, torchlight glinting off the knife in his fist. Four of his dogs followed, clubs and short blades ready. The thin official stayed three paces back, the fresh warrant clutched like a death sentence.
Seo-joon didn't wait for the first blow. He shoved Min-seo hard toward the narrow gap between two leaning shacks. "Warehouse! Now! Don't look back!"
She ran without hesitation, bare feet slapping through mud. He turned to meet the attack.
The first thug swung a club. Seo-joon ducked, drove his small knife up under the man's ribs—not deep enough to kill, but enough to drop him screaming. Pain exploded across his own shoulder as Gu Chil's blade sliced through cloth and skin. Warm blood trickled down his back. He ignored it. Survival first.
"Get the girl!" Gu Chil bellowed. "The root boy's mine!"
Two men broke off after Min-seo. Seo-joon hurled a broken roof tile, catching one in the knee. The man stumbled. The second kept running. Seo-joon sprinted after, lungs burning, the wrapped pot still tucked under his arm like a guilty secret. Every step reminded him how close the cave was, how close the truth was to spilling out. One search and the Ghost-Face Jar—whatever ancient hunger it carried—would get them all executed.
Min-seo had already reached the wider alley that led to Deok-su's warehouse. She snatched a heavy laundry pole from a line and swung it like a staff, cracking it across the pursuing thug's jaw. The man dropped. She didn't stop to gloat—she kept running.
Seo-joon caught up at the warehouse gate. Blood soaked his sleeve. Gu Chil and the remaining two were thirty paces behind, cursing.
They burst inside. Wol and Baek Man-sik were already there, the fifteen duplicated ginseng roots laid out on a low table beside a small pile of silver mun Deok-su's men had counted. Kang Yul stood over the ledger, face tight. Deok-su himself sat on a stool, thick arms crossed, eyes narrowed at the commotion.
"Triple fee paid in advance," Seo-joon gasped, dropping the bundle of roots beside the silver. "Branded under your name. Door-to-door only. Scarcity pricing. The supply is real. The rumors are lies spread by a leaking thief."
Deok-su's gaze flicked to the blood on Seo-joon's shoulder, then to Min-seo's mud-splattered face and the fresh bruise forming on her forearm from the pole. "You're cutting it close, root boy. Midnight bells are ringing and my men say the magistrate's full squad is moving. Twenty swords. They want the girl and the cave."
Outside, Gu Chil's voice echoed. "Deok-su! Open up! The warrant's live! The root boy's hiding sorcery!"
Kang Yul slammed the ledger shut. "The silver and roots buy you until dawn. That's the new line I negotiated. But the cave gets searched at first light. If they find anything unnatural…"
Seo-joon met Deok-su's eyes without flinching. "There's nothing unnatural. Just smart gathering after the rains. I'll open the cave myself at dawn. Let them watch. Let them dig. They'll find mud and roots, nothing more."
Min-seo stepped forward, voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. "And if Gu Chil keeps spreading poison? He already tried to trade me for his freedom. He'll burn everything to drag us down."
Deok-su grunted. "Gu Chil is a rabid dog. But dogs have uses. The magistrate likes results. If I hand him the girl and the cave, the heat dies."
Seo-joon's hand tightened on his knife. "Then you lose the only supply line that can triple your take. I'm not asking for charity. I'm offering control. Fixed fees. Revenue share. My routes, your protection. But if you sell us out now, word spreads that Deok-su bends the knee to a low-rank cousin. Every seller in the row will remember."
A heavy fist hammered the warehouse door. "Open! In the name of the magistrate!"
Deok-su stood slowly, the weight of profit versus politics pressing on him like a mountain. He looked at the fresh silver, the perfect ginseng, then at Seo-joon's bloody shoulder and Min-seo's defiant stare.
"Dawn," he said at last. "The cave gets searched at dawn. The girl stays under my roof until then. You pay another triple fee by sunrise or I hand her over myself and take the business. That's the deal. Take it or bleed in the alley."
Gu Chil's laughter carried through the wood. "Hear that, root boy? Dawn's coming. And I'll be there when they strip the truth out of her."
Min-seo's hand brushed Seo-joon's arm—brief, steady, not tender. A promise of loyalty, not softness. "We take the deal," she said quietly. "But we don't forget who forced it on us."
Seo-joon nodded once, cold calculation settling back into place. The pot was still hidden, still secret. But dawn would test everything.
He looked at Deok-su. "Dawn it is. But when they find nothing, Gu Chil's head is mine to deal with. No more leaks."
Deok-su's smile was thin and dangerous. "Careful, root boy. In Joseon, the man who demands heads usually loses his own."
The door rattled again.
Midnight had passed.
Dawn was already sharpening its knives.