Chapter 7
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Wave Tiger Fist
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Sima Hwa-yeong hoisted Yi Ho-chang and Baek Hwi onto her back and kicked off the ground in a whirlwind gust, vanishing in an instant.
Along the way, guided by their directions, Yi Ho-chang heard the full story from Baek Hwi.
"…That's when we suddenly ran into those Red Tiger Gang bastards."
The tale was straightforward enough.
The kids from Squad 6 had finally scored some real freedom and abundance thanks to Yi Ho-chang—only to cross paths with the Red Tiger Gang punks at the worst possible moment.
'Went out for fun and bumped into some street toughs. Figures.'
Baek Hwi swallowed his resentment, his voice thick with bitterness.
"But they kicked me out like trash, telling me to bring more money…"
"Yeah, I get it. You did good."
After consoling him, Yi Ho-chang urged Sima Hwa-yeong to pick up the pace even more. Soon enough, the trio arrived at an abandoned building on the outskirts.
"This the place?"
"Yeah."
Yi Ho-chang strode inside without hesitation.
From within, mocking voices drifted out—strangers' sneers.
"Why the hell's that pig kid taking so long?"
"Heh, imagine if that pig just ditched you lot. Hilarious, right, Gyu-hak?"
"Kekeke, birds of a feather and all that—could be."
There were two of them.
Both looked like middle or high schoolers, red bands—the Red Tiger Gang's mark—tied around their wrists. The squad members knelt between them, heads bowed.
At least the captured kids seemed in better shape than Baek Hwi.
'Looks like Baek Hwi took the brunt for them.'
Knowing Baek Hwi's personality, he'd probably stepped up on purpose to protect the others.
No need to see it to know.
Yet Baek Hwi hadn't breathed a word of it. That alone made Yi Ho-chang see him in a whole new light—good kid.
Yi Ho-chang reached into his pocket and pulled something out.
The Go stones he'd grabbed earlier.
He hurled one straight at the head of the guy called Gyu-hak.
Thwack!
A dull thud echoed as the stone smacked his skull.
Gyu-hak clutched his head and let out a howl.
"What the—?!"
But Yi Ho-chang answered by flinging another stone at the guy beside him.
Thwack!
"You son of a—!"
Only then did the pair spot Yi Ho-chang, bulging their eyes in fury.
Then they noticed Baek Hwi and Sima Hwa-yeong beside him—and burst into laughter.
"Ha! Who'd have thought—it was you?"
"Well, well, who… Hey, piglet. We told you to bring cash, and this is what your puny brain cooked up? Dragging along a scrawny runt and some useless girl?"
The two cackled like hyenas.
At the taunt, Sima Hwa-yeong turned to Yi Ho-chang.
"'Useless girl,' he says… Young master, how shall we handle them?"
Yi Ho-chang nearly told her to teach them a lesson—but a better idea struck. He turned to Baek Hwi instead.
"Baek Hwi."
"Y-yeah?"
"Who's tougher—them or me?"
"Wh-what?"
"You've taken hits from both sides. Spill it."
Baek Hwi blinked in confusion at Yi Ho-chang for a moment, then answered honestly.
"If I had to pick… you seem stronger. I couldn't even touch you, but I landed a couple on them."
"Really? They look fine, though."
"That's… sorry."
Baek Hwi hung his head.
Yi Ho-chang chuckled and patted his shoulder.
"Kidding. Thanks for the answer. Miss, before you step in… mind if I handle these clowns first?"
Sima Hwa-yeong smiled softly.
He sounded so bold, but in a kid's body—it was downright adorable.
"By all means. I'll wait right here."
"Much appreciated, miss."
Yi Ho-chang thanked her and stepped forward. Gyu-hak scowled at the sight.
"What the hell are you punks doing?"
"What else? About to whoop your asses. What's the holdup? Come at me already."
"Ha! Maeng-do, hang back. This twerp needs a personal beatdown."
"Suit yourself."
Gyu-hak's eyes narrowed to slits as he charged Yi Ho-chang, hyped up.
Good. Coming at me first? Means you're the weaker one.
Scrubs always rush in.
Yi Ho-chang held his ground. Gyu-hak closed in slow, then accelerated, lunging for his collar.
An open palm grab.
But…
'This guy's slow too?'
Slower than Baek Hwi… no, even Jun Hyo. Still glacial by Yi Ho-chang's standards.
Why did everyone move in slow motion?
No clue, but he dodged on instinct.
Gyu-hak's hand swiped air. As he faltered, Yi Ho-chang yanked his extended arm, upsetting his balance.
"Wh-whoa!"
Yi Ho-chang shoved the tipping guy's side.
Gyu-hak crashed down ungracefully, landing on his butt with a bewildered look—like, what just happened?
Then laughter erupted from behind.
Maeng-do.
"Pfft! Gyu-hak, what was that?"
"Sh-shut up! Just a slip!"
Stung by the mockery, Gyu-hak scrambled up, face red as a ripe persimmon ready to burst.
Yi Ho-chang smirked.
"Round two?"
"Shut it!"
This time, Gyu-hak swung a full fist—proper stance, balanced weight.
No repeating mistakes.
His form was leagues above Baek Hwi or Jun Hyo.
But…
'Still slow.'
A sharp punch, sure.
Yet Yi Ho-chang's eyes tracked it like molasses—same for the kicks.
So he stood still, dodging over a dozen strikes.
Gyu-hak's face drained of color, instincts screaming: something's very wrong.
Then, amid the flurry, Yi Ho-chang seized his wrist with both hands, twisted his waist, and slammed him down.
"Gahk!"
A perfect shoulder throw.
Yi Ho-chang pursed his lips inwardly, impressed as Gyu-hak shuddered in pain.
'It actually worked?'
Something from TV—and it landed clean.
Sima Hwa-yeong, watching, murmured her own surprise.
'Not trained martial arts… but the moves themselves… not bad.'
She'd seen it clearly: Yi Ho-chang wasn't dodging by fluke or reflex.
Innate senses made it possible.
Gyu-hak trembled, trying to rise.
Nope, stay down.
Yi Ho-chang kicked him back down, then mounted, wrenching his arm backward.
"Gaaah!"
Gyu-hak screamed.
But…
'Now what?'
With Baek Hwi and Jun Hyo, he'd instinctively KO'd pressure points. No clue here.
Yi Ho-chang had never thrown a punch in his modern life.
Couldn't just let go, though—who knew what this punk might do.
Killing? No way.
This was the martial world, but his core was still modern.
Salvation arrived.
"Young master, need a hand?"
"From you, miss?"
"You seem unsure… Like this."
Sima Hwa-yeong approached the pinned Gyu-hak and struck his paralysis acupoint.
His body stiffened, resistance gone.
Yi Ho-chang gawked, amazed.
"What'd you do?"
"Hit the paralysis acupoint. Unless a superior expert shows up, he ain't moving."
"Whoa."
Acupoint strike, huh? Straight out of comics—now real.
With Gyu-hak handled, Yi Ho-chang stood and eyed the stone-faced Maeng-do.
"Next?"
"Tch…"
Maeng-do snorted, uncrossing his arms.
Yi Ho-chang grinned.
"You end up like that? Would be funny."
"Skinny thing punches okay—for a twig. But I'm different."
Maeng-do exploded forward, fist thrusting without hesitation as Yi Ho-chang entered range.
Whoosh!
A fierce whoosh of air.
Better than the last guy, for sure.
But that's it.
Still slow as hell.
Yi Ho-chang evaded the combo, chuckling.
"Same old, same old."
"Say what?"
"Don't believe me?"
Yi Ho-chang grabbed the extended fist and twisted.
Maeng-do's body followed. Yi Ho-chang dropped into a boxing stance and unleashed light jabs.
Pok! Pok-pok! Pok! Pok-pok!
Yi Ho-chang had zero boxing training.
Just TV mimicry.
Even so, they stung.
Maeng-do staggered back under the barrage. He twisted to escape—
Crack!
Yi Ho-chang landed a clean hook to the face.
Then—
"You bastard!!"
Something grazed Yi Ho-chang's cheek.
Maeng-do's fist.
A burst of wind pressure scorched his skin, drawing a thin cut.
Drip.
Yi Ho-chang touched his cheek, frowning at the blood.
He'd seen the punch.
Tried to dodge—but pain hit first.
Weird.
Curiosity cleared quick.
Maeng-do laughed.
"Mouthy brat gets what's coming. How's the taste of our Red Tiger Gang's secret art, Wave Tiger Fist?"
"Wave Tiger Fist?"
Ah. Martial arts technique.
Named one, too.
Explained the oddity otherwise.
Maeng-do settled into full Wave Tiger Fist stance.
Embarrassing to use it on trash—but better than a humiliating thrashing.
Yi Ho-chang narrowed his eyes, muttering.
"Wave Tiger Fist, huh…"
He pondered, then mirrored the stance exactly.
Maeng-do barked a laugh.
"What're you playing at?"
Yi Ho-chang ignored him.
Instead, he replayed the moves.
Deep breath in, relax the upper body.
Plant legs like roots, exhale—tense muscles for explosive power.
Thrust.
Wave Tiger Fist's secret.
Simple, but true power needed inner energy.
Without it? Just a fast punch.
Yi Ho-chang didn't care. He drew breath sharp and punched.
"Hup!"
Bam!
A wind pressure like Maeng-do's burst forth.
"Huh. It worked."
No inner energy at all.
Yet success.
Yi Ho-chang grinned in wonder. Maeng-do, Baek Hwi—even Sima Hwa-yeong rubbed their eyes in disbelief.