Spread 'Em Wide, Bitch! The Bear's Bloody Rampage to the Finals
"Spread your pussy wide, you bitch!"
Round 2, Round 3, Round 4. With each successive fight, Jang Il could truly feel how much stronger he'd become as he climbed higher. His opponents charged at him, radiating naked killing intent. These were clearly battle-hardened veterans who would have crushed him like an insect in the old days.
But now.
He could see them. Their attacks. They felt light. His body was fast. His hands and feet quick enough to react fully. No, more than that. He could smash them like rats.
Crunch!
"Gurk!"
Jang Il's pot-lid fist smashed into Mad Dog's ugly mug, sending it flying. Shattered teeth sprayed out with a gush of blood. The blow was so ferocious that Mad Dog's body lifted off the ground and spun like a top.
Thud!
Mad Dog hit the ground in an unsightly heap.
"Grooo..."
Groaning as he regained his senses, Mad Dog tried to rise immediately. But.
Squish!
"Ugh, guh?!"
Jang Il's massive frame had already pinned Mad Dog down completely.
"Eat this, you punk."
Pow-pow-pow-pow-pow!
Jang Il mercilessly alternated pounding both sides of Mad Dog's face. Soon, Mad Dog was a horrific sight—every tooth broken, face swollen several times over. Even without the mask, his own parents wouldn't recognize him.
"Grk... grkkk..."
A dying groan of agony leaked from his mouth. Anyone could see the match was over. Normally, the referee should call it. But he stayed silent. Because he knew this assault wasn't the end.
Not just the referee—everyone knew. Jang Il, of course. Mad Dog himself. And all the spectators watching.
The crowd watched with eager eyes, awaiting the finishing blow.
Responding to their expectations, Jang Il shifted his pinning weight from Mad Dog's upper body to his legs and raised his fist high.
"N-no... nooooo!"
Somehow finding the strength, the half-dead Mad Dog writhed desperately in resistance. But it was too late. Jang Il's fist plummeted down like a rock-smashing hammer.
Splat!
"Gaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!"
A scream so primal it could pass for a death rattle. Leaving only that behind, Mad Dog's eyes rolled back, and he passed out cold.
"Hmph. If you came in here ready to kill someone else, you should've been prepared to get killed yourself."
Sneering triumphantly, Jang Il spat the words and stood up. Cheers erupted as if they'd been holding their breath.
"Wahahaha! We waited for it, Bear Balls Buster! That's what we wanted to see!"
"Puhuhu, even the Mad Dog got neutered on the spot."
"Looks like the mad dog turned into a bitch."
"Wh-what? Puhahahaha!"
The cheers for Jang Il were far louder than in Round 1. It was only natural. His popularity had soared with every match. Though a total newcomer today, the name "Bear" was now etched in the spectators' minds.
And it wasn't just because of the shocking, grotesque finishes.
A bare-fisted brawler unleashing bold, refreshing fisticuffs without a weapon. That raw fighting style had thoroughly captivated the crowd. He embodied every quality of a crowd-favorite gladiator.
"Bear, exit."
Jang Il strode out of the arena once more, head held high.
—Roooaaar!
The roar from outside. Black Dream Butterfly knew it was for the Bear.
'Won again, huh.'
She'd thought him some random nobody who'd drop out early—barely worth remembering. Yet here he was, through Round 4.
'Maybe he's somewhat useful after all.'
But that was it. No need to dwell further.
The arena was merely a tool to perfect her martial art. The gladiators mere stepping stones. Who wasted thought on their tools?
'Just four more.'
Her Salwol Singong was a bizarre demonic art. True to its name, it advanced only by killing. But unrestricted murder outside was impossible. She couldn't slaughter innocents just to cultivate.
Warriors were the target, but as a lone wanderer without backing, that was tricky. Kill one from a sect, and she'd have enemies.
Hence, the arena. Killing gladiators here raised no issues. The crowd even loved it.
Combining outside kills with arena ones: ninety-six total. Four more to reach a hundred—the completion number. Coincidentally matching her remaining matches. She'd spared one mid-way, crippling his legs and balls instead.
Either way, today it ended. And with completion, the path to Peak realm opened.
Black Dream Butterfly was certain.
"Black Dream Butterfly, prepare to enter."
She rose.
"Heh, who knew it'd end up being those two."
The Ox Mask man muttered, his prediction utterly wrong. He turned to Bang So-un.
"Your brother is incredible. You predicted the Bear would make it this far."
"Haha, just a hunch. Close to certainty, though."
Bang So-un chuckled leisurely.
"That sharp instinct must've made you rich enough for VIP seats."
"Nothing to brag about."
"Heh heh, humble too."
Ox Mask chuckled and continued.
"But the finals? Even the Bear might struggle against Black Dream Butterfly."
"I said Bear all the way."
"Oho, sticking to your guns? Then we'll have a fun bet."
His words said one thing, but he seemed convinced of Black Dream Butterfly's win. Natural—she was the arena's undefeated champ, multiple-time Group A victor.
"Fine. Wanna wager on it?"
Bang So-un smirked. He'd enjoy watching Jang Il break the fierce Black Dream Butterfly—and pocket a fortune too.
"Heh heh, intriguing. How much?"
"Three hundred gold taels."
An enormous sum. But feasible for VIPs. Bang So-un named exactly that amount on purpose.
"Bold. Accepted—three hundred gold taels."
Ox Mask pulled out the gold immediately. Bang So-un matched it.
"Let's enjoy the show."
"Of course."
Both men's smiles hid their private thoughts.
The Finals.
Cheers burned hotter than ever. They anticipated a spectacle—even if most expected Black Dream Butterfly to win.
'Last one.'
Black Dream Butterfly gazed indifferently at Jang Il. The Bear's rise was unexpected, but irrelevant. Whoever climbed was just the final tool for her art's completion.
"Cheeky eyes, wench."
Jang Il tsked.
"I'll make those eyes lower. Too scared to even look."
"......"
Black Dream Butterfly didn't reply. No point wasting words on a dead man.
'Pathetic.'
All male gladiators were the same. Pre-fight bluster, but empty inside. Nine in ten begged for mercy at death's door. The one-in-ten who accepted it stoically was marginally better. Which was this one? Pointless to ponder.
"Begin!"
At the referee's call, Jang Il charged ferociously.
Thud!
His earth-shaking footfall intimidated.
"Hraaah!"
Roaring, he swung his fist. Aiming, surprisingly, right at Black Dream Butterfly's breasts.
'Not just pathetic—base too.'
Her eyes narrowed. Explained his crude ball-busting finishes to reach here.
But that was emotional. No rules here—she knew that well. Strike anywhere. It wouldn't land anyway.
"Hmph."
Tap.
Black Dream Butterfly lightly stepped onto his fist with graceful footwork. As good as toying with him.
"You bitch!"
Jang Il shook her off violently. But.
Shing.
Her blade already arced toward his throat.
"Shit!"
Spurt!
Blood sprayed. A small cut—Jang Il had twisted away from a vital spot.
'Hmph, has some skill.'
Agile for his bulk. But that was all. She saw everything clearly.
"You dare draw this old man's blood?!"
Jang Il raged. Inside, panic stirred. Confidence at its peak from victories, now facing a wall.
'Tch, as expected—strong.'
Use hypnosis now? No, not yet. Pride swelled. Man's stubborn grit. Test his martial limits, crush her with raw power.
"Spread your pussy wide, you bitch!"
Spitting vulgarity, Jang Il attacked anew.
"Puhahat! The Bear's tenacity is impressive."
"Yeah. Sticking doggedly to those spots."
Breasts and crotch. The Bear hammered relentlessly there. Pure mad bear obsession.
But.
"Can't land a single hit—getting boring."
"Whaddya expect? Against Black Dream Butterfly."
"That elegant, nimble footwork is peak Murim."
"No answer for it. Look at him flailing with air swings."
"Guess the Bear's done."
"Still, fun fight."
"Worth the coin."
The crowd already took Black Dream Butterfly's win for granted. Justified—Jang Il hadn't touched her, bleeding from various wounds.
"Heh heh, the Bear put up a good show."
Ox Mask grinned smugly, victory assured.
"A fine showing indeed. For the Bear over Black Dream Butterfly."
Bang So-un remained utterly calm. Ox Mask was baffled.
'Saying that now? Lost the bet, lost his mind.'
Then.
Something changed.
"Hah... hah..."
Jang Il panted heavily. Clearly exhausted, wounds taking their toll.
"Your struggles end here."
Black Dream Butterfly said coldly. His grit was mildly admirable. Meaningless. Death was fixed.
"An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth."
She repeated her icy words from crippling Blood Ghost into a cripple. No mercy death. First, sever the hands and feet that groped her breasts and crotch. Then gut the chest and rip the groin.
"Hah... yeah... eyes are key."
The Bear's nonsense. She ignored it.
Shieeeek!
Her fastest, sharpest slash yet at his arm. That instant.
"Eyes, you said."
Jang Il's wide eyes flashed with eerie, demonic light.
Split-second.
Black Dream Butterfly's vision spun wildly. Vertigo shook her skull.
'Wh... what... iiiis... thiiiis...'
Yet her willpower was formidable. She fought unconsciousness, thrusting her final attack.
Her blade fell toward Jang Il. But.
"Fall. Keep your body's balance."
Thud.
Consciousness plummeted fully.
'......................................................................................................................'
The blade lost power abruptly at the end. Thud. Jang Il casually caught it barehanded.
"He... he caught it with his hand?!"
"Impossible..."
"Did the Bear hide a trump card?"
The crowd gasped. Inevitable—that lethal, unavoidable strike, blocked. No, he gripped the blade itself.
The two stood in precarious deadlock, blade caught.
But something was off. They were talking. Bear chattering nonstop, Black Dream Butterfly lips moving in response. Too quiet to hear.
Spectators assumed: Bear's taunt after grabbing the sword, her retort.
"Can't pull it free easily?"
"That much raw strength? Lives up to the size."
The crowd held breath, watching.
"Heh, what're you doing, Black Dream Butterfly? Strike with the other hand!"
Ox Mask griped impatiently. Victory bet soured by this wrinkle.
"She's become obedient."
Bang So-un murmured slyly with a venomous smile.
"What? What'd you say?"
"Nothing. Just feels like the real fun's starting."
Bang So-un's eyes gleamed with anticipation.
Snap!
Jang Il flicked the fingers of his free hand. As if on cue, Black Dream Butterfly moved.
Clang!
She yanked hard to free the blade.
'Tch, read me.'
Her brows furrowed. A committed strike. Yet he'd anticipated, letting her grab it in humiliation.
Cold fury rose. Should've been more cautious. Now she would.
"No second chances."
She spat icily, raising her sword. But Jang Il grinned inwardly.
"Told you. Spread your pussy wide."
"......"
She ignored the crude taunt. Worthless.
"Spread your pussy wide, you bitch!"
Jang Il surged back into ferocious attack after so long.