TBML 5

“Pretty Yeon, looks like you were really frightened.”

“If you’d been any more scared, you’d have fainted.”

A man with a large scar across his face blocked the path and waved at Yeon. The scar was so prominent that once you saw his face, you couldn’t forget it easily.

Yeon gripped the strap of his carrier and took a step back. The road to the village was blocked by the men. If it came down to it, he was ready to run like the deer from earlier. Once Yeon started running, he was so quick on his feet it was hard for anyone to catch him. The men hadn’t even said much yet, but already overcome with fear, Yeon stood stiff with tension.

“…What is it you want. I’ve paid the overdue interest.”

“Who said anything?”

Yeon thought his voice was trembling from fear, but to the men, he sounded sharp and defiant. In the eyes of the thugs, Yeon had a lot of tempting weaknesses. Despite his ragged clothes, his face had the proud, refined look of a noblewoman’s daughter—or, to some, the bewitching charm of a top courtesan from the pleasure quarters.

They figured he might fetch a good price if sold off to some depraved high official in place of his debt. But then again, while any other commoner would’ve collapsed under the crushing interest, Yeon somehow managed to keep up with the payments every time. That made him seem like a goose laying golden eggs.

Besides, they couldn’t push too far—he had the favor of the magistrate’s second son, who kept begging to have him. So sometimes they tried to coax him gently, other times they threatened, and in the end, Yeon had become like a chicken rib—too bothersome to eat, too good to throw away.

“We came today to collect a different kind of interest.”

From behind Yeon, a man’s voice spoke. He turned his head sharply to see the magistrate’s second son.

Yeon had been considering using his spear to threaten the ruffians and get away, but now his face drained white. He couldn’t point a weapon at a nobleman. That wasn’t something to be overlooked—it was a serious crime. His already pale face turned even whiter.

“Yeon-ah, all this snow last night made me think of you.”

The man’s slanted eyes looked sharper than usual today. Dressed in a jade-colored robe, he licked his lips like he had a ripe fruit in front of him. Yeon’s skin crawled. Something felt terribly wrong.

With the way blocked both front and back, Yeon scanned the surroundings for any way to escape. He thought about diving off the side path into the mountains, but figured he wouldn’t get far before being caught. Running on a dirt road and running through the mountains were completely different things. No matter how nimble he was, slipping away from five or six grown men wouldn’t be easy.

While he was calculating his odds, a man rushed up from behind, tore the carrier ff his back, slammed it to the ground, and grabbed Yeon in a rough embrace. Lifted off the ground, Yeon thrashed with all his might and screamed. With a body so small, every single movement had to be full force if he was going to fight back against them.

The man holding him was caught off guard by how violently Yeon resisted and let go. Yeon hit the snowy ground with a thud, but another man quickly scooped him up and slung him over his shoulder.

“Let go!! Let me go!”

Yeon kicked and struggled again with all his strength. The men who approached to pin him down got kicked in the face and staggered back, but quickly came at him again, holding his arms and legs down so he couldn’t resist. The man carrying him tightened his grip around Yeon’s thin waist so he wouldn’t escape.

The magistrate’s second son strolled over, hands covering his ears as if the cold bothered him. With a satisfied smile, he shouted at the men, “Let’s go!”

His light steps were exactly like a rich playboy on his way to a courtesan’s house. He leaned in toward Yeon, who was slung over the man’s shoulder, grinning smugly.

“Yeon-ah, you should’ve taken up my offer when I said I’d give you a room.”

“…Sir, please. Please spare me.”

“Oh, come now. You think I’d actually kill you? Don’t worry.”

With a snake-like face, the man spoke with sickening sweetness. The thug carrying Yeon chuckled and looked back at him.

“What are you saying, sir? It’s your first night—you’ve got to make him fall for you, right?”

Laughter erupted among the men at the filthy joke. “With your mighty tool, he might just die from pleasure,” one of them said with a cackle. At their words, Yeon clenched his teeth hard. The snake-faced man stared into Yeon’s face, clearly intending to violate him tonight.

Some said, what’s the big deal? It’s not like he’d get pregnant. Just give it up once—what kind of virtue are you clinging to like it’s something sacred? But whatever happened tonight, the entire village would be talking about it tomorrow.

This wasn’t going to be some one-time pain and trauma that would be over and done with. It was clear he’d be toyed with by the second son and his thugs for as long as they wanted. And worse—if he gave in once, from that day on, people would treat him like a male prostitute in the gutter, and all kinds of men would come sniffing around.

That thought filled Yeon with both fear and burning rage.

‘Bastards.’

Was this what all his struggle had been for—to end up ruining his life like this? Tears welled up in Yeon’s eyes. He regretted it—regretted not just staying curled up beside his mother on this cold day, not moving a muscle.

He’d always known something like this could happen. But he’d never imagined it would be today.

Tears threatened to spill, but Yeon squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth. If he started crying like a pitiful thing, that wretched man would only get more excited, thinking he’d broken him.

Grrr―

Just then, a low, rumbling sound shook the ground. He felt the shoulder of the man holding him stiffen. It was a sound Yeon knew well.

A threatening growl that made your hair stand on end and your knees go weak the moment you heard it.

Yeon’s eyes flew open, and he glanced behind him. Standing on all fours was a black tiger—not fully grown yet, but noticeably bigger than it had been just a few days ago.

‘It shouldn’t have come down this far.’

Even in the urgent moment where his chastity and reputation were on the brink, Yeon found himself absurdly worried about the young Mountain Lord. A cub still marked with youth, showing itself in an area where people often came and went—before long, rumors would spread, and hunters would swarm.

To the villagers, no matter the size, a tiger was a beast that brought disaster. But to tiger hunters, an immature one was even easier prey than a full-grown adult. This cub still bore the signs of youth, but having taken after its mother, it was large enough to fetch a high price regardless.

Even back when it had still been under its mother’s belly, its size had been unusual. Not much time had passed, yet like a bamboo shoot that shot up overnight, the cub had grown tall.

Still, to Yeon, who had seen tigers before, it was clearly young—young enough to still be called the Mountain Lord’s cub. He found himself worrying more for the tiger than for himself.

Was it because it was a black tiger and not just any ordinary one? Its fierce yellow eyes, locked on the humans, looked all the more savage and ruthless. When the black tiger growled again, the sound echoed through the trees, making every hair on Yeon’s body stand on end. A tiger’s roar was meant to strike fear deep in a human’s instinct. Truly, it was the cub of a Mountain Lord.

“A h-h-h… tiger!!”

Panic erupted. The magistrate’s second son and the gang of thugs scattered in terror. The second son was the first to flee, and the man carrying Yeon flung him aside and ran after him. The others didn’t even look back, bolting straight toward the village like their tails were on fire.

Face first in the snow, Yeon pushed himself up, grabbing his stinging nose. Blood, warm and wet, soaked into his palm—his nose had started to bleed. His face burned from the cold and the impact with the frozen ground.

He roughly wiped the warm fluid from under his nose and lifted his head. All the men had vanished, leaving only the black tiger and Yeon on the snow-covered path.

Yeon swallowed hard and planted his hands on the frozen earth. The blood on his hands melted into the snow, blooming like red dye soaking into a flower petal.

Thankfully, the black tiger didn’t close the distance between them. Yeon lowered his body into a crouch, like a beast ready to pounce, and moved slowly, his eyes never leaving the tiger. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down.

The black tiger, standing on all fours in the snow, was still a juvenile—but its thick paws and long legs were already impressive in size. Once it fully matured, it would no doubt be a tiger worthy of being called the Mountain Lord.

Without breaking eye contact, Yeon groped along the frozen ground. The snow was mixed with dirt and stones, and his fingertips stung. His nose was still wet, but this was no time to worry about pain. One wrong move and he’d either be torn apart or mauled.

He kept low to the ground, crawling slowly, and when he moved, the black tiger let out a low growl. It came from deep inside its body, echoing like a cavern inside its belly, accompanied by hot breath. To Yeon, it sounded even more dangerous than before. Blink once, and the tiger would be at his feet.

‘Please, Mother… Spirits of heaven and earth…!’

Yeon desperately called out, silently, to every force he could think of. As he kept feeling along the ground, his hand finally caught on a round wooden shaft—it was the spear that had fallen from his carrier.

He cursed himself for not bringing his matchlock today. Not that it would’ve helped—at this distance, he’d be dead before he even loaded it. But even just holding the gun might have calmed his mind. Still, even having the spear was better than nothing.

He fumbled for it with both hands and finally gripped the shaft. Now armed, he slowly straightened his back, pressing his toes into the ground to prepare to run at any moment.

Terror, as large as the tiger itself, loomed before him. He wanted to collapse and sob, or spin around and bolt, but he knew—if he looked away for even a second, those sharp teeth would sink into the back of his neck.

‘Stab its eye. Then run.’

He wasn’t sure he could do it, but Yeon steeled himself. His sweat-slicked hands tightened even harder around the spear.

The more Yeon straightened his back, the clearer the black dot in the center of the tiger’s yellow eye became—growing larger, sharper. And on its furry eyelids, four long white whiskers stood up stiff and alert.