Failed Kidnapping Attempt
"Uwaaaah, stay away!"
Whoosh, whoosh.
The freak clenched his eyes shut and flailed his arms wildly at his surroundings.
"Nooo! I don't want this! Stop it!"
Even as he screamed for them to stop, the sheer momentum of this bizarre guy pressing closer forced the intruders to keep retreating.
This lunatic!
It wasn't even proper technique—he was just swinging his fists haphazardly like an amateur.
Any normal guy pulling that stunt would've had someone charge in and pin him down in seconds. But this hulking mass of muscle exuded such overwhelming menace that even brushing against it felt like it could crush bones.
"Do something!"
"What the hell am I supposed to do?!"
These guys had been running errands like this for quite a while, but this utterly unforeseen mess left them panicking.
"Why the fuck won't this bastard go down?"
They'd thought the mission was as good as done the moment they snuck into the target's quarters. But the cocky grins from earlier had long vanished from their faces.
Their target was the hot topic who'd been shaking up Zhejiang Province's military lately: the "Monster with the Cannon." Kidnapping him.
Not some dainty noble lady or spoiled heir from a prestigious clan—no, they were supposed to snatch some rough-looking brute. Who the hell knew what the client was thinking.
When the target was male rather than female, a martial artist rather than a civilian, high-status rather than low—the odds of success plummeted.
Which made this job not just tough, but extremely so. Sure, he couldn't use martial arts, but he looked like a government operative with freakish raw strength.
And it wasn't an assassination or intimidation gig—it was a kidnapping. That alone jacked the difficulty to the heavens.
Still, they'd been brimming with confidence thanks to one thing: Meng Huan San, a knockout drug so potent it could drop a raging wild boar with one whiff under the nose.
Meng Huan San was a rare concoction only imperial physicians or a handful of master poisoners could brew, and only with official permission. Under strict government control, black-market stuff like this cost a fortune.
Handed gear like that, they'd figured the mission was already won before it even started.
...Except the target turned out to be way more of a freak than expected.
They'd managed to tackle him somehow, but his neck was like a tree trunk. One shoulder slam, one hit to the trapezius—they'd gotten the drug right under his nose, but his defenses kicked in before he could fully inhale it.
...Or maybe he did inhale some, but the dose wasn't enough to drop that massive frame right away. The guy was built like a bear or tiger, not some pig.
"We gotta go all in at once."
"Everyone, get ready!"
No more delays. It was the dead of night when everyone should be asleep, but dragging this out wouldn't end well.
And they still had to haul this bulk out of here. Better wrap it up fast.
"Charge!"
With their resolve steeled, the men hurled themselves at the giant all at once.
But for all their determination, their coordination was laughably sloppy.
And there were things they could never know.
Mastery of Brute Force Technique complete. Waigong limit raised by one stage.
Acquired outer martial art: Iron Cannon Triple.
Iron Cannon Triple was a common skill unlocked by pushing Waigong to a certain threshold. A defensive technique that maximized bodily durability to mitigate incoming damage.
Honestly, in Flame of the Red Heart, it was pretty much ignored. Better to build Neigong than waste time on Waigong, went the conventional wisdom—it was that inefficient. Even mastered, it was seen as a pale imitation of Unbreakable Diamond Body.
But right now? Nothing could've been more perfect. Their blades held no inner power, so they couldn't kill him even if they tried. His only real risk was a dagger to the vitals at the initial ambush. In this scenario, Iron Cannon Triple was more than enough.
The intruders' weapons swung toward him.
Attack received. Damage reduced by 70% due to Iron Cannon Triple effect.
The sensation of blades whistling in still wasn't familiar—fear made him flinch instinctively. But seeing most strikes leave mere scratches before bouncing off filled him with confidence. He swung back with a fist.
A lariat straight to one's jaw. Another leaped in to replace the fallen, only to eat a German suplex to the neck.
Stat correction applied. Power reduced by 60%.
Just as they couldn't land solid hits on him, his own blows were neutered by Heavenly Star's Blessing, turning the fight into a bizarre stalemate.
The freak who wouldn't drop no matter how hard they hit, and the freak who couldn't land a proper strike—endless back-and-forth. Thwack, thud. Boom, crunch!
The commotion dragged on into a prolonged war of attrition.
*
Crash, bang! Shatter!
Yujin's quarters were a repurposed outer storeroom for the magistrate's unused junk. Tucked away in a quiet, peripheral spot.
But repeated noises from what should’ve been a silent area drew people one by one.
"What the hell's all this racket in the dead of night?!"
Among them was Hyejin, who'd dozed off after burning the midnight oil in her office. Not that she'd planned to.
With the pirate issue resolved, work had lightened up nicely. She'd spent the afternoon gleefully tormenting her "little donkey," blowing the whole schedule.
Voluntary overtime? No big complaints.
...If not for this midnight disturbance.
Ignoring her on-duty aides, Hyejin flung open the door and bellowed.
"Little donkey, has that lesson from earlier not sunk in yet? Still not got your head straight—kyaaak, disgraceful!"
"Hold still! Hngh, hngh!"
"Gaaah! My shoulder!"
There, under the massive musclebound freak, were men howling in agony.
Drenched in sweat, gasping, clothes shredded in spots from the fierce struggle. Some trembled in the corner, too broken to resist.
"…."
A whirlwind of thoughts crossed her mind.
Did the betrayal by his old flame make the donkey distrust women and turn to... men? Fixing that taste physically would be tricky. What to do?
Hyejin covered her flushed face and whipped her head away from the intense brawl.
Princess, I think you're misunderstanding something big time, Wi Eokgi sighed inwardly, guessing her train of thought.
She had a knack for wild imaginings sometimes. He wanted to correct her, but held back—it wasn't his job.
That brief misunderstanding in her gaze toward Yujin delayed resolving the midnight invasion.
*
Even before dawn broke, lights blazed through the magistrate's office as operations kicked into gear.
Cause: In one corner of the outer hall for main duties and judgments, a gang of bound freaks with tied hands and feet.
"Way too sloppy for assassins."
Commander Hyejin's assessment of them.
"They're not assassins."
"Not assassins? Then what are they?"
The freaks were battered, broken, and out of it after being twisted, beaten, and crushed. The answer came not from them, but from Inspection Captain Wi Eokgi at Hyejin's side.
"Local thugs. Generous estimate: low-rent unorthodox riffraff."
"What nerve lets street punks invade government grounds at night?"
Yujin was a Waigong monster but a total dud at martial arts. No pro assassin would've failed against him.
Actions stem from confidence.
No matter how shaky a faction, the magistrate's office was a nexus of state authority and force.
Not a playground for random thugs—unless they had high-profile backing.
The answer was clear. Wi Eokgi's gaze shifted to the man opposite the intruders, Hyejin's following suit.
"Grooo…."
Their victim slept soundly, oblivious to the world's dangers, body twisted in a dynamically impossible pose.
"What a carefree guy."
Hyejin approached and prodded him with her foot. No sign of waking. Exhausted from the fight, sure—but this sloppiness in a work area? Some decorum, please.
"Probably the Meng Huan San."
"…Meng Huan San? It was found?"
"Yes. The physician just confirmed it."
Hah. Hyejin couldn't help a hollow laugh at the massive clue. Meng Huan San meant at least a provincial governor-level player was involved.
Daring this in her own backyard? Only two or three factions near Zhejiang came to mind as openly hostile.
Jiangsu and Fujian Provinces, aligned with the crown prince faction—their leaders.
"They knew sending assassins would've escalated too far."
With the princess as commander, even an outer compound incident would've blown up beyond a "simple" case.
"Truly remarkable young man, all things considered. Most grown men would drop dead from one breath of that stuff face-to-face. He endured a full hour."
"…Yeah. Insane willpower."
Wi Eokgi was genuinely impressed. Trained as an Embroidered Uniform Guard to withstand torture and interrogation, even he knew Meng Huan San wasn't conquerable by will alone.
Hyejin fetched a blanket from her office—last used before her laundry cycle, still scented with faint flowers—and gently draped it over Yujin. Overtime was rare now anyway.
"Little donkeyyy, sleeping here'll make you drool."
Squatting beside him, poking his cheek with a finger. But the attackers stirred first.
As they came to, interrogation began under Wi Eokgi's supervision.