Boxing Is Done with the Feet
The nameless bastard was strong.
True to a ghost, his body was light as air, weightless and fleeting, yet the power packed into his dagger was anything but negligible. And there was something else—call it ghostly energy. A chill power wholly different from mana brushed past him with every exchange, making his body flinch and shrink back. Perfect evasion was nearly impossible.
Shhhk—!
The dagger carved across Park Ji-hoo again. The cut was not deep. The real problem was that he kept taking them. He had not landed a single clean blow of his own, while the bastard had already left more than ten knife scars across his body.
If this keeps up…
He would lose. The nameless one was simply that strong—so strong that the contempt Ji-hoo had felt only moments ago now felt laughable.
“What’s wrong? Why the long face? You just gonna keep taking it?”
The bastard drifted around him like he was flying, needling Ji-hoo’s nerves without rest.
Wham—!
Another fist smashed empty air. Nothing caught in his hand. The bastard had slipped away again.
Chain Barrage [D]!
Chain Barrage [D]
Bababababababoom—!
Dozens of fists erupted in an instant—a barrage so blistering it made his earlier punches look sluggish by comparison.
“Ghk!”
Only then did the bastard react. Even with that speed, he could not slip every blow cleanly.
Seven hits?
Unable to adjust to the sudden change in tempo, the nameless one finally took seven solid punches and staggered backward.
“Kh… didn’t see that coming.”
Shock flickered in his eyes. He had never met a player with strength on Park Ji-hoo’s level—and for good reason. The gap between someone who climbed the Tower the normal way and Park Ji-hoo was vast. Level, skills, everything. This was not the kind of power anyone should be showing on the tenth floor. He had far exceeded anything the bastard had expected.
“Hoo— hoo—.”
Ji-hoo dragged in air in short, sharp gasps. Chain Barrage [D] had shoved him past his limits for a single explosive moment, but the mana cost was brutal. His mana had not fully recovered yet, which only made it harder.
Still, it was fine. He now knew the skill worked. From here he just needed to be more careful—
“Oh, this is the real deal. First time in ages I’ve actually been having fun.”
The bastard’s smile only grew thicker, as if what had just happened meant nothing.
“How about we make this a little more entertaining?”
He raised a hand as he spoke. Among the ghosts who had been watching from the sidelines, several began to move. Nearly twenty of them. All of them looked to be Ghost Riders, judging by the daggers in their hands.
“Well? Think you can handle it?”
The nameless one asked with a smile full of pure malice.
“Not that I need an answer. We’re the ones having fun, not you.”
The newcomers even seemed stronger than the ones Ji-hoo had already dropped.
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh—!
Fabric sliced the air as they charged all at once.
Fast!
Not one, but nearly twenty of them rushing him together. Ji-hoo clenched his teeth and threw his fists like a madman.
KRAKAKAKAKAKOOM—!
Explosions hammered the air without pause. Only a few of them went down. With no chance to put full power into a single blow, his strength was spread too thin.
Shhhhk—!
The nameless one slipped into that opening; his dagger raked across Ji-hoo’s side. Blood welled and poured out in a thick rush.
Damn it.
He swallowed the curse inside. He did not want Nia to hear it and grow more afraid.
I can do this.
He had lived through experiences like this more times than he could count. Once, with Si-yeon behind his back, he had blocked every single one of his father’s punches for three full hours. Compared to that day, this was nothing.
Holding that memory, Ji-hoo kept driving his fists without rest. One. Two. Three. The ones that caught his knuckles began to drop one after another. In proportion, the knife scars carved into his flesh only multiplied.
“Hahk— hah—”
His breath burned all the way to the top of his throat. His swollen lungs felt ready to burst. His oxygen-starved brain looked ready to shut down any second and no one would have blamed it. Even so, Park Ji-hoo stayed on his feet, spine straight.
I can’t fall here.
He would not allow it. He had to make these bastards pay the price for the sins they themselves had committed.
“Hey. That kid’s protecting Nia right now. Aim for that.”
The nameless one’s vicious order fell. At the same time the remaining ghosts bared their teeth and started circling around Ji-hoo.
Nia!
It was a strike aimed squarely at his weak point.
“Kh!”
He twisted his body in desperation. The wounds tore wider and sprayed fresh streams of blood. But he could not stop. If he did, Nia hiding behind him would be in danger.
Ji-hoo wrenched every last drop of remaining mana together and activated Fierce Tiger Strike [D].
Fierce Tiger Strike [D]
ROOOOOOOAR—!
A savage beast’s roar exploded from the tip of his fist. At the same moment a massive blast swept through the surroundings. The power was overwhelming. The ghosts charging for Nia were flung away like rag dolls and vanished without a trace. They simply could not endure the force packed into Fierce Tiger Strike [D].
Nia?
He whipped around. Thankfully the child was only trembling in fear; not even a speck of injury had touched her.
Th-thank good—
That was as far as the thought got.
“Still got enough focus to look away, huh?”
Shunk—!
He felt the sharp edge punch into his abdomen.
“Hup!”
Instinct made him clench. Tightly woven abs contracted hard and stopped the dagger from driving deeper.
“…You blocked that?”
Because of it the nameless one’s blade only scored the surface; it never reached the organs. Even so, Park Ji-hoo could not move easily. The ghostly energy clinging to the dagger was the reason. That chilling force flooded through his body in an instant and began to gnaw at his mind. Dizzying pain surged up.
Ah…
Why am I doing the very thing I hate so much? The thought rose unbidden. He hated fighting. He hated violence even more. The reason he still did the thing he hated was simple: he did not want Nia to be tormented by these bastards. He did not want Si-yeon to be worn down by the world’s malice. That was why he swung his fists.
But.
Is it different?
Violence to crush the weak. Violence to protect the weak. The reasons were different, yet the means were the same. That was why he still felt revulsion even while fighting.
“This little shit’s spacing out at a time like this?”
The nameless one grinned wide and wrapped both hands around the dagger. Maybe because he put more strength into it—the blade began to push deeper, inch by inch. Completely drained of stamina, Ji-hoo could not even shove him away.
As the dagger slowly sank into his body—
“You gonna snap out of it or what?”
Yujin’s voice cut in.
“Huh?”
The nameless one made a dumb sound.
“Get lost.”
Yujin swung his hand and smashed the bastard aside.
KRAAANG—!
The nameless one’s body went tumbling across the ground with almost absurd ease. Only then did Ji-hoo’s mind come back online.
“Park Ji-hoo.”
Yujin did not spare the downed ghost so much as a glance; he spoke straight to Ji-hoo.
“I get that you don’t like fighting. I roughly get why, too. Not that I particularly understand it, but whatever.”
Ji-hoo lifted his head and looked at Yujin’s face. The man’s expression was blank, yet somehow irritation and annoyance seemed to cling to it.
“Anyway—why do you fight?”
It was the same question he had been turning over only moments earlier. The words still would not come out. Watching him, Yujin continued.
“The reason you punch people isn’t so you can bully them, right?”
That much, at least, he could answer with certainty.
“Y-yes, sir.”
“Then it’s for some other reason. Because you don’t want your little sister getting hit by other bastards. Am I wrong?”
That was true as well. But it still was not an answer. In the end the means still involved violence…
“This idiot’s just sitting here doing idiot shit by himself.”
Yujin’s palm cracked down on the crown of Ji-hoo’s head.
WHAM—!
His mind flared white. It hurt enough to bring tears to his eyes; without thinking he blinked hard and lifted a hand to rub the spot.
“‘The means do not justify the end.’ I think that’s pure bullshit.”
If you thought that way, then the police would only be allowed to use conversation when arresting criminals. But was that how the world worked? American cops would turn someone into a beehive just for reaching for a gun. And if you asked whether those cops were murderers, how many people would actually say yes?
“If someone stabs a person with a kitchen knife, is the kitchen knife the bad guy? Or the one who did the stabbing?”
The point was simple. Violence without reason was wrong, but violence with a legitimate cause was necessary. Exactly like now. Raising your fists to protect someone was never a bad thing.
“There used to be a saying. Beat one guy and you’re a thug. Beat ten thousand and you’re Kim Doo-han.”
No, that saying did not actually—
“Anyway, if you’re gonna agonize over that kind of nonsense, just die right here. Don’t half-ass some dumb shit and put a kid like Lee Sia in danger.”
At Yujin’s words, Park Ji-hoo slowly opened his mouth.
“…Is it really okay?”
To justify his own fighting?
“Obviously.”
Yujin nodded without a shred of hesitation.
“Your fists aren’t violence that swings power around. They’re a shield that protects the weak. I’ve watched from the side, so I’ll vouch for it.”
Ji-hoo dropped his head. He had wanted to hear those words. Really, truly, desperately wanted them.
“Thank… you.”
The heavy stone that had been crushing his chest seemed to melt away like snow.
“Well, as long as you got it through your thick skull.”
Yujin turned and looked at the nameless bastard.
“I’ve been roughly watching you fight. Skill power aside, you still don’t know how to actually fight.”
Thanks to his level, skills, and traits, his physical ability already transcended ordinary humans. That was all it was, though. He moved on pure instinct; he had never learned a proper way to fight.
“You use your fists, so it’d be good if you learned some boxing.”
Yujin raised both fists and set them in front of his face as he spoke.
“I’ll teach you just once, so listen carefully.”
“Y-yes, sir!”
Ji-hoo’s eyes flew wide as he locked onto every motion Yujin made.
“Boxing isn’t done with the fists. It’s done with the feet. You get what I mean?”
As Yujin closed in on the bastard while saying it, Ji-hoo nodded.
He means footwork is more important than the punch!
Just as he reached that conclusion, Yujin came to a stop in front of the nameless one.
And said:
“Watch closely.”
Then he launched a full-power kick straight at the bastard.
KRAAAAAAAAAANG—!
The nameless one, struck by the tip of Yujin’s foot, simply burst. No shape left. Unable to withstand that colossal force, he was completely annihilated on the spot.
Yujin kept both fists raised and turned around just like that.
“See? Boxing is feet. Don’t forget it.”
No… that really did not seem right.
At last, a look of pure distrust toward Yujin settled into Park Ji-hoo’s eyes as well.