Taking Over the Butcher Shop (3)
"So you're saying the two of you want to take over this place?"
The old man, So-hang—owner of the butcher shop and acknowledged as the finest butcher in the area—asked.
"Yes," Sima-Jian replied politely.
I heard he couldn't find anyone to hand the butcher shop over to and ended up closing it, but in just a few days he's become a completely different person. He looks seriously ill, too.
Seeing how drastically weakened So-hang looked compared to the last time they'd met, Sima-Jian sensed that the old man didn't have long to live. Perhaps his illness was the reason he had tried to give up the butcher shop.
"You're the ones who came by a few days ago saying you just wanted to look around. Hah! Seems you thought this would be easy. Go on back."
There were thorns in So-hang's hoarse laugh.
"Not at all. After seeing your single strike, how could we think that?"
At that unexpected reply, a flash of light passed through So-hang's eyes.
"They say one strike, one kill. It was truly a magnificent skill—one that carried the full weight of time."
At Sima-Jian's praise, the icy expression on So-hang's face softened slightly.
"Hah! You're gilding the face of an old man who's spent his life slaughtering cattle and pigs. Cough! Cough!"
As he laughed, So-hang broke into a violent coughing fit.
"When one devotes their entire life to a single craft, they can reach the realm of art. I don't know about other things, but the moment of self-forgetful mastery you showed—I've never seen anything so intense."
Still coughing heavily, So-hang instead grew serious and stared at Sima-Jian.
Sima-Jian didn't avert his gaze. He met it calmly.
In those unwavering eyes, So-hang sensed that Sima-Jian was different from the people he'd met before—those who merely spoke sweet words to curry favor.
"Care to follow me for a moment?"
So-hang's presence abruptly changed. The frail air he'd had moments earlier vanished.
Without waiting for an answer, he headed toward the slaughterhouse.
Sima-Jian dragged along the reluctant Cheol-woo and followed.
At the slaughterhouse, So-hang herded a pig out of its pen. Then he handed a chisel and hammer to Sima-Jian.
"You wouldn't offer to do work you've never done. If you want to take over a butcher shop, you must at least be able to slaughter. Can you show me your skill?"
"I've never actually slaughtered before, but I'll give it a try."
Sima-Jian first passed the tools to Cheol-woo, then lightly tapped the pig's cheek and guided it toward the feed trough.
Seeing the pig follow Sima-Jian without the slightest wariness, So-hang couldn't hide his surprise.
Gently stroking the pig's head as it buried its snout in the trough, Sima-Jian said, "I noticed you wait until the pig finishes eating. It felt like consideration—letting it go on its final journey with a full belly."
"Consideration? It's just a trick to ease my guilt a little. It may be a lowly creature, but it's still a life."
So-hang shook his head with a laugh, but Sima-Jian thought differently.
"It didn't feel like a trick. It felt like consideration."
"Think whatever you like."
When the pig had nearly finished eating, Sima-Jian took the chisel and hammer back from Cheol-woo.
So-hang watched his movements with a deeply focused gaze.
Sima-Jian placed the chisel against the pig's crown. The pig didn't react at all. Even when the hammer was raised high and brought down, there was no response.
Amazing.
So-hang couldn't help but marvel.
For a pig—whose senses and instincts far surpassed a human's—to show no reaction meant that Sima-Jian had perfectly erased all killing intent.
Then came the strike.
The massive pig collapsed exactly as it was, head still buried in the trough. There was no scream, just as when So-hang himself slaughtered.
"You've really never learned this before?" So-hang asked, eyes wide.
"No. I just copied what you did before. What are you doing?"
Sima-Jian turned to Cheol-woo.
Grumbling, Cheol-woo tied the pig's legs and hoisted it up on a pillar.
Watching Cheol-woo hang the pig up by himself, So-hang was stunned.
Normally it would take three or four strong men working together to hoist a limp pig. Yet Cheol-woo did it effortlessly, with one hand.
No matter how big he is…
So-hang was left speechless at Cheol-woo's monstrous strength.
"Oh, right—you said the blood needs to be drained."
Turning back, Cheol-woo slit the pig's throat and caught the flowing blood. Then he asked So-hang, "But do you really need to use those tools?"
"What do you mean?" So-hang asked.
In response, Cheol-woo entered the pen and dragged out another pig.
Since he hadn't erased his killing intent like Sima-Jian, the pig thrashed wildly, but it couldn't withstand Cheol-woo's strength.
Moments later, when Cheol-woo released it in front of the trough, the pig became completely absorbed in eating, as if it had never gone berserk.
After seeing both Sima-Jian and Cheol-woo perfectly conceal their killing intent, So-hang was at a loss for words.
"If you can slaughter perfectly without tools, isn't there no need to use metal at all?" Cheol-woo said with a grin.
Realizing what Cheol-woo was about to do, Sima-Jian put a hand to his forehead and shook his head, but So-hang only looked puzzled.
"Looks like it's eaten enough. Time to go. I'll at least pray for your peaceful rest."
Murmuring quietly, Cheol-woo swung his fist.
Boom!
With a thunderous impact, the pig collapsed in the same position, head still in the trough.
The result was the same as when Sima-Jian had used the hammer. The difference was that while Sima-Jian's chisel had pierced and split the skull cleanly, Cheol-woo's punch had completely shattered it.
So-hang's face hardened.
"You're no ordinary people. Are you martial artists?"
"We were, once," Sima-Jian replied without making excuses.
"Then why would martial artists want to do this kind of work?"
"We want to try living an ordinary life."
"Ordinary… With your abilities, you could find any number of other jobs."
"We looked into many things, but none of them were easy. We learned so little growing up."
So-hang alternated his gaze between Sima-Jian, who smiled bitterly, and Cheol-woo, who hummed as he hung the pig he'd just killed on the pillar. He instinctively sensed that their lives had been anything but smooth—that they carried many stories.
"It's a shame I don't have much time left," So-hang said gently.
Sima-Jian smiled brightly and bowed.
"Please teach us well. You won't be disappointed."
The way the knife moved was as smooth as a dance, and its path along the grain showed not a trace of hesitation.
With every movement of Sima-Jian's blade, the slaughtered cow was perfectly separated into bone and meat.
Despite the speed and decisiveness of his cuts, there wasn't a single mistake—it was as if he understood the animal's structure completely.
"Hahaha! Incredible!"
A hollow laugh escaped So-hang's lips as he leaned on his cane and watched Sima-Jian work.
The skill he had honed over more than fifty years, slaughtering thousands of cattle and pigs, had been matched in just a few days. No—those perfectly steady knife movements had already surpassed his own.
"So you've lived by the blade. Your ability to learn is frighteningly fast. There's nothing left for me to teach."
Though illness in his very bones had prevented him from teaching properly, in just three days Sima-Jian had absorbed every slaughtering technique he'd mastered in a lifetime. So-hang felt both proud and strangely empty.
"It's thanks to your proper guidance. Thank you."
Having completely butchered the cow, Sima-Jian set down his knife and bowed.
"I'm the one who's grateful. Even knowing it was attachment, I wanted the butcher shop I devoted my life to keep its name and reputation. Otherwise, I thought it better for it to disappear altogether. That's why I went through such needless trouble searching for the right person. I failed every time—but still."
Perhaps even leaning on his cane was too much for him, for Sohang's body swayed unsteadily. Samageon quickly stepped in to support him and helped him sit down on the bench.
Sohang smiled through the dark age spots that completely covered his face and took Samageon's hand.
"Thanks to you, this old man's wish has been fulfilled. Now I can close my eyes in peace. Thank you—truly, thank you."
"It's nothing. After returning to my hometown, I had many worries about what I should do. Thanks to you, Elder, I was able to settle down properly, so I'm the one who should be grateful."
Samageon expressed his heartfelt thanks to Sohang, who had generously passed on all of his skills to him.
While the two were exchanging words of gratitude, Cheol-woo returned after thoroughly butchering a freshly slaughtered pig. He tossed his knife aside and complained,
"Damn it. Meat's just something you chop up roughly and sell, right? Why do you have to separate and dismantle it so carefully?"
Cheol-woo flopped down beside Samageon and gulped down his liquor.
"Boss, do I really have to learn this too?"
Unable to hold back his frustration, Cheol-woo asked.
Before Samageon could reply, Sohang spoke with an angry expression.
"Don't give that fellow a knife. Just have him do menial work. Ah—well, he's at least usable when it comes to killing cattle and pigs, so that much is fine."
Unlike Samageon, who was always careful and eager to learn even one more thing, Cheol-woo had been half-hearted from the very beginning, and Sohang disliked everything about him. Still, he had to admit that Cheol-woo's fists—capable of killing even a cow with a single blow—were impressive.
"The old man finally said something sensible for once. Let's do as he says, Boss. I've thought this for a long time anyway—knives just don't suit me."
Cheol-woo grinned as he offered him a drink. Samageon wanted nothing more than to smack that smug face, but he held himself back and lifted his cup, replying curtly,
"Do as you like."
"Hehehe! Thanks, Boss."
Looking as though he had finally been spared, Cheol-woo quickly refilled Samageon's empty cup. Then, glancing at Sohang, who was breathing heavily, he said,
"Elder, you should have a drink too."
"What nonsense is that?!"
Startled, Samageon hastily tried to stop him, but Cheol-woo brushed his hand aside with a smirk.
"Even if you're on your way out, one drink should be fine, right?"
"Heh heh! You rascal."
Sohang looked at Cheol-woo with an incredulous expression and laughed weakly. Then he tossed aside the cane resting on his knees and straightened his hunched back.
"Fine. Even if I drop dead the moment I drink it, there's no way I can skip a cup on a day like today. Pour it."
Holding out his cup, Sohang downed the liquor without hesitation once Cheol-woo filled it.
The burning sensation as it flowed down his throat still felt good, even now, with death close at hand.
"One more."
Sohang boldly shouted, throwing the cup in his hand to the ground.
It was the last supper of Sohang, the greatest butcher of Sohueng and a man famed as a heavy drinker.