The Pursuit Squad's Secret (5)
Compared to prestigious orthodox sects like Shaolin and Wudang, the Iron Palm Gang had a short history. To survive in the murim world, they had researched ways to endure.
First, they needed to compensate for their shallow internal energy cultivation method, which paled in comparison to those of the great sects.
But centuries of effort ended in failure.
Without a once-in-a-generation genius, it was impossible to catch up to the profound arts of Shaolin, Wudang, Huashan, Kunlun, and the like.
Then, the Iron Palm Gang waged war against an unorthodox faction and wiped them out.
From the secret manual they acquired, they discovered a way to bolster their internal arts.
It was an unorthodox external art technique that doubled destructive power.
By using drugs.
They soaked their hands in a mixture of herbs and poisons, then trained by striking stone walls with their palms. After more than a decade, the palms hardened like steel, capable of crushing boulders like tofu.
Not stopping there, the Iron Palm Gang developed a method combining this unorthodox external art with their own internal cultivation. The ultimate killing technique they had sought was complete.
The birth of the Iron Palm Thunder Gong.
The Iron Palm Gang kept the true nature of the Iron Palm Thunder Gong strictly secret.
A stratagem to shock the other orthodox sects when the time came to vie for dominance in the Central Plains murim.
Afterward, the Iron Palm Thunder Gong was passed down only to the gang leader. Even Shaolin Temple, said to hold the most comprehensive knowledge of murim, did not know its exact nature.
Cheon Ri Hyeong had trained in the Iron Palm Thunder Gong from childhood under his father, the gang leader's, strict guidance.
Yet this boy he'd never seen before was now speaking its name aloud.
How in the world did he know?
The secret manual Son Il Seo had stolen was none other than the Iron Palm Thunder Gong.
Could Son Il Seo have leaked its secrets to a warrior from another sect?
Already seething with rage, if that were true, it was utterly unforgivable!
"How do you know of the Iron Palm Thunder Gong? Did that brat Son Il Seo show you the manual?"
But the response utterly defied Cheon Ri Hyeong's expectations.
"No. I saw it at Shika Manor."
"Shika Manor?"
"I'm from Shika Manor. It's not on the level of Shaolin Temple's Jang Gak, but Shika Manor's library records every martial art in the Central Plains murim."
Cheon Ri Hyeong's mind raced.
Shika Manor? Was there such a place?
He'd never heard of it before. And Seo Baek didn't seem to be lying.
Reading his thoughts, Seo Baek spoke.
"Shika Manor is isolated in western Sichuan, so you wouldn't have heard of it."
"Hmph! So that great clan of yours sent you to the Central Plains murim?"
"Something like that."
"If that's your wish, I'll kill you with the Iron Palm Thunder Gong."
"You were planning to use it anyway, even if I hadn't mentioned it, right?"
Seo Baek pointed at Cheon Ri Hyeong's left hand gripping the sword.
"The swordsmanship that took down your subordinates was flashy enough, but it doesn't seem like your true skill. They were just too shocked by becoming revenants to dodge your strike."
"So?"
"You're right-handed. Holding the sword in your left hand isn't because you've trained left-handed swordsmanship. You're pretending to be left-handed to fool me, planning to unleash the Iron Palm Thunder Gong with your right hand out of nowhere, aren't you?"
"……!"
"Anything obvious to the eye isn't strategy."
"...This brat's got sharp eyes, I'll give you that."
As Seo Baek saw through every trick, Cheon Ri Hyeong's face crumpled like paper.
Cheon Ri Hyeong thrust his sword vertically into the ground like Seo Baek. Then, with his yellow robe billowing, he charged at Seo Baek.
"If you wish to die by twin palms, so be it!"
From his sleeves emerged Cheon Ri Hyeong's two palms.
They were pitch-black, like a pair of iron chains.
Since childhood, after training the Iron Palm Thunder Gong, he soaked them in medicine to remove the poison, dying his entire palms black.
Normally, he wore gloves to hide them from other murim warriors' eyes.
But now, it didn't matter.
Anyone who saw his black twin palms was killed to silence them anyway.
"Die!"
Cheon Ri Hyeong thrust his twin palms toward Seo Baek's chest and abdomen.
Whoosh.
It was a bizarre sight, like two black cloth scraps floating through the air.
Cheon Ri Hyeong's twin palms held enough power to rupture muscles and shatter bones even if merely struck.
Moreover, infused with the internal energy from long years of Iron Palm Thunder Gong training, their destructive force rivaled Shaolin staff techniques.
Yet Seo Baek didn't dodge—instead, he sneered.
"Impressive power, for sure."
Just as the twin palms were about to pulverize Seo Baek's chest and gut, he twisted his body in an eerie motion.
Swish swish swish.
Cheon Ri Hyeong's twin palms struck only empty air.
Startled, Cheon Ri Hyeong's eyes widened.
Seo Baek had clearly been right there—where had he vanished to without a trace?
Cheon Ri Hyeong hurriedly withdrew his palms. If he'd pushed through, they might have crushed his own opposite wrist.
Forcing the direction change twisted his arm muscles in shock, triggering spasms.
"Kuh!"
Then, Seo Baek's voice came from behind.
"Does the Iron Palm Thunder Gong have some secret technique for striking empty air to fell foes?"
A tone like a beast toying with prey.
"Take this!"
Cheon Ri Hyeong spun, thrusting his twin palms again.
Fist and foot arts without weapons, especially palm techniques, were high-difficulty martial arts vulnerable to counters since they required closing in on the opponent.
But the Iron Palm Thunder Gong wasn't merely about amplifying palm power.
It incorporated the Iron Palm Gang's secret movement technique to close in instantly, finishing with palm strikes.
That was why the Iron Palm Thunder Gong demanded harmonious training of external and internal arts.
Whoosh whoosh.
The Iron Palm Thunder Gong, fused with the gang's movement art, generated such wind from Cheon Ri Hyeong's sleeves that it whistled fiercely.
Yet Seo Baek twisted slightly, deflecting the twin palms into empty air once more.
"You slippery little eel...!"
Cheon Ri Hyeong unleashed a barrage of palm strikes without pause.
But the result was the same.
Each time his palms neared a hit, Seo Baek's pale blue robe scattered like clouds, slipping left or right.
After dozens of futile strikes, Cheon Ri Hyeong leaped back three steps, gasping for the breath he'd held.
"Hah... hah... hah..."
"No matter how tyrannical the palm art, if it can't land a hit, it's no different from hammering smoke."
"You...!"
As Cheon Ri Hyeong ground his teeth in fury, for some reason, he recalled the day his father had passed down the Iron Palm Thunder Gong.
Back then, his father had earnestly warned him.
But as he aged, Cheon Ri Hyeong neglected internal cultivation, focusing on external arts.
Unlike bloodline-centric sects and clans, there was no guarantee he'd inherit the Iron Palm Gang leadership.
Unorthodox external arts could be mastered quickly, while internal methods took ages—impatient Cheon Ri Hyeong couldn't wait.
Master external arts first, become leader, then cultivate internal later. It's enough.
Seizing control of the Iron Palm Gang as swiftly as possible was the priority!
And now, for the first time, Cheon Ri Hyeong regretted it.
If only I'd trained external and internal equally... I wouldn't suffer this humiliation today...
They say regrets come at the worst times.
But murim is different.
In murim, regret strikes the moment your head rolls!
"Pathetic. Is that the best the Iron Palm Thunder Gong at the Ten Stars level can do?"
Seo Baek's words shattered Cheon Ri Hyeong's reason.
"You little bastard... Die!"
Cheon Ri Hyeong poured his last reserves into twin palms aimed at Seo Baek's abdomen.
Screeech.
The sleeves sliced the air with razor sharpness.
The Iron Palm Thunder Gong twin palms infused with his life's entire power!
His stance was riddled with openings.
Blinded by the intent to kill, his form collapsed, exposing every vital point.
A mutual destruction technique ignoring his own weaknesses.
If Seo Baek dodged again, Cheon Ri Hyeong—having expended everything—would collapse in vain defeat.
But Seo Baek didn't dodge.
"Now it looks a bit like Ten Stars."
Thud. Seo Baek stamped his foot into the ground, rooting himself.
Simultaneously, he mirrored Cheon Ri Hyeong's motion, thrusting twin palms forward.
Swish swish swish.
The next instant, their twin palms clashed in midair like clapping hands.
Crack!
—I win!
Cheon Ri Hyeong exulted inwardly.
He trusted the Iron Palm Thunder Gong's power above all, but Seo Baek's elusive steps left him helpless—until now, when the boy met palms head-on!
Drug-tempered twin palms that crushed rock like tofu. No matter how profound an expert's internal energy, their flesh and bone couldn't surpass stone.
I'll smash your hands first, then snap your arms!
Then it came.
A stinging energy pierced his palms.
—Internal energy clash?
Strange. Barely blocking the Iron Palm Thunder Gong should've shattered Seo Baek's wrists already...
How?
Soon, Seo Baek's internal energy flowed through his palms.
The boy before him was barely twenty.
Cheon Ri Hyeong was at least twice his age. Though he'd prioritized external arts, his over-ten-years of accumulated internal energy was no trifle.
Cheon Ri Hyeong welcomed the internal clash gladly.
Digging your own grave!
He held his breath, surging his internal energy.
In that instant, ferocious waves of energy crashed from Seo Baek's palms.
No—this was a tsunami!
Such profound internal energy at that age...
As Seo Baek's energy engulfed his twin palms, Cheon Ri Hyeong gaped in shock.
A bone-chilling cold invaded his hands, like plunging them into a frozen river midwinter.
An internal art that froze the opponent's blood and qi with ice-like cold.
Ice Arts?
Once, Central Plains murim had sects using ice arts. But deemed viciously evil, they were branded unorthodox and marked as public enemies.
Ice arts had vanished from the Central Plains decades ago.
Yet this boy under twenty wielded them?
Suddenly, it clicked.
A place free from interference to teach and train ice arts, unlike the Central Plains.
That place was...!
Before he knew it, sensation fled his hands.
The frigid ice energy raced up his arms, spreading through his meridians. His body froze rapidly.
Unable to bear the cold, Cheon Ri Hyeong's teeth chattered. His voice trembled as if in disbelief.
"This isn't Central Plains martial arts. This is Western Frontier arts..."
"Western Frontier? Someone might think it's the origin of all martial arts under the heavens."
"Th-then how in the world..."
"I told you. I'm from Shika Manor."
Seo Baek's voice was as icy as his arts.
"Regrettably, Shika Manor has no palm techniques. This is the Shika Heart Method of Shika Manor."
"……!"
In that moment, Cheon Ri Hyeong heard something in his ears.
It wasn't real sound.
But the change within his body made it feel utterly real to him alone.
Crack crack craaaack!
The ice energy burrowing through his meridians had frozen his heart solid like a rock.