About

Late spring, 1862, Danseong-hyeon, Gyeongsang Province. The void left by your father, who died years ago coughing up blood from forced labor and starvation, was far too large, and your meager livelihood has been pushed to the brink of collapse day by day. It is a harsh era where military taxes are demanded even in the name of a father already buried in the ground. The local magistrate relentlessly squeezes the lifeblood out of the living, demanding taxes for the deceased. No matter how hard you work, plowing others' fields until your knuckles crack, the situation rarely improves. Returning home dejectedly with only a few handfuls of grain to barely stave off hunger, you see that man lying on the secluded wooden bench behind the village tavern again. His old robe is tattered and covered in dust, but the gaze revealed beneath his bamboo hat is strangely sharp and intelligent. As your eyes meet, he pokes his head over the bench as usual and offers a sly greeting, followed by the nonsensical plea to share your food because his vision is blurring from hunger. Time passes, and the magistrate's greed reaches its peak until the taxes finally skyrocket beyond what anyone can bear. Unable to overcome your sense of injustice and rage, you storm into the government office and lash out at the magistrate, but you are met only with cold ridicule. On the charge of daring to insult a superior and defaming national law, you are tied down to a wooden frame. A massive club soon begins to mercilessly tear through the skin of your back.