Namgoong Juhee Believes in Clichés
Namgoong Juhee was a firm believer in clichés. God-tier games always followed them, and she loved those kinds of games.
That held true even now. When Hwangbo Un left, she'd roughly predicted the ominous turn.
Ah, this is the boss encounter event. Whether that Hwangbo Un guy meets the boss or I do, one of us holds out one-on-one until the other shows up.
Knowing that, Namgoong Juhee still didn't move. To be precise, she couldn't. She had stamina at the low end of the Peak realm, and her internal energy didn't even reach 1st Rate. She'd forced a single martial insight to draw out sword qi.
So what could she do? She needed a little rest. Prepping and resting before the boss room was RPG basics.
About an hour later, a massive voice boomed alongside the clash of sword and fist.
Hwangbo Un hit the jackpot. Namgoong Juhee's side had better luck. Or maybe this was the intended plot anyway.
"Huuu… This'll be fun. Whirlwind Ghost, you're screwed."
With that insight, she hauled her leaden body upright. No way she'd let a data chunk die on her. Even an NPC could grow on you.
And then—boom! Namgoong Juhee rose and charged toward the sound's source.
"Huh."
Hwangbo Un snapped out of his daze, staring blankly at Namgoong Juhee's retreating figure. Looking away mid-battle was taboo, but the scene was too intense. Especially her snowy white nape. How could any man gaze at that curve and…
"Aaaaaaah!"
"Fuck, what the hell? Doryeonnim, you lost it?"
Hwangbo Un shook off the stray thoughts. He knew better than anyone this wasn't the time.
Even if that pale skin contrasting bloodied fabric oozed sex appeal. Even if her jawline gleamed sharply in the moonlight. Even if her faint sweat-mingled scent scrambled his brain. None of that mattered. Hwangbo Un assumed his stance.
"Sojeo! Why didn't you run?!"
"Am I crazy? I came to help, and this is the thanks I get."
"I appreciate that… No. Run now, at least! Leave this to me and go!"
"Oh, even that cliché. I know it. Classic stuff."
"No, we don't have time for this!"
"Exactly, that's what I'm saying, you idiot."
Namgoong Juhee's eyes flicked left, then right. A gap. She seized it, widening the distance from the Whirlwind Ghost.
"Hoh, wench. What was that just now?"
"Doghouse? You mean that European soccer team? Ease up on the team slurs."
"……?"
One line shut the Whirlwind Ghost up. Rightly so—her speech was odd for a murim heroine, and the content even odder.
So this is the girl who took down Ganggwon and Jenam Yeonhwa at once. Didn't expect a total psycho. The Whirlwind Ghost gripped his sword tighter.
Whatever. Namgoong Juhee needed to wrap up her chat with Hwangbo Un.
Cut off the convo to "talk later," and you'd miss their dying words forever. They'd leave last words in their head and croak. Another famous cliché.
Juhee whispered to Hwangbo Un, too quiet for the Whirlwind Ghost to hear.
"Alright, Doryeonnim? Orders incoming."
"What're you…"
"Straight talk: My HP's one hit from zero. Sword feels heavy as fuck right now."
"……."
Normally, he'd snap, "Then you should've run!" But her breath tickling his ear was too sweet. He could only listen.
"So you bounce. Your forces'll move anyway. Block any scouts from getting here if they're nearby."
"Sojeo, that's poor judgment."
"Ugh, no time for this shit."
"Whirlwind Ghost is seriously strong. I couldn't handle him— you're not equipped, especially low on stamina."
"Then what's your plan?"
Namgoong Juhee's voice turned icy. Her rare cold tone.
"Team up for a raid? How do we escape after killing him?"
"Well…"
"Act like an NPC. You're just in the way like this. Fuck, look at the blood. One poke and you're done."
Hwangbo Un bit his lip hard. Harsh words, but caring ones. "Live even if I die." After their short time together, this moved him. Heart pounding—whether from emotion or not, who knew.
"……Namgung Sojeo, don't die till I return."
"You got it. Come back safe, Doryeonnim."
"Where do you think you're going!"
Did she hate melodrama? The Whirlwind Ghost's sword slashed in a straight line.
But—clang!
A swift blade blocked it. Fast sword. From someone near his own realm.
By then, Hwangbo Un was a dot vanishing from sight. The Whirlwind Ghost growled, missing his chance at the heart.
"Ha! Touching brotherhood."
"Brotherhood? Blech. What bullshit."
"You sacrificed your life to save the Little Fist King, no?"
"Uh, seems like a misunderstanding."
"Misunderstanding my ass!"
Sword intent bloomed from the Whirlwind Ghost's hand. No idea which evil sect, but anyone could tell it was a variant of the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword.
Plum scent amid the fishy blood reek from his blade. Inhaling meant becoming a guest who never returns—even a toddler knew that.
Shing! Fierce sword qi rained from all sides. Left, right, left, left, right, left, right, left, left—left again.
Keeps coming from the left, so he's a lefty. Wait, from my view, left is his right—patriot conservative maybe. Age fits.
Namgoong Juhee musing like this meant she had leeway. Proof: his swift sword didn't graze her body or clothes. Just nicked some innocent grass. The blade that bloodied Hwangbo Un? Useless against her.
"……How? How'd you block it?!"
"Huh? By blocking? You want me to take hits? What bullshit?"
"No, that's not it! My Blood Plum Sword… you dodged it all! Explain, wench!"
"Aha, that type! Denies reality when his martial art fails! Wow, first time IRL! Sign my shirt!"
"What bullshit are you spouting!"
Ignoring his shock, Namgoong Juhee's green sword flashed in the moonlight.
Since when was swift sword his exclusive? It was her specialty, alongside Huashan swordsmanship. Her lips curved into a smile. Her sword did too.
"Gramps, watch close. Swift sword is done like this."
"What the…"
Shing!
Namgoong Juhee's blade danced wildly. The Whirlwind Ghost felt like he was watching his own style. No, she was mirroring it exactly.
Left, right, left, left, right, left, right, left, left—left again. His earlier technique, reborn in her hands.
She unbalanced left-right for the greater good. If needed, go lefty just for today. More right strikes tomorrow.
Claaaang!
The Whirlwind Ghost barely parried. But the damage was done.
His body was a bloody mess, white hair and beard now "redhead" worthy. Just like Hwangbo Un earlier.
"Guh!… Hoo, hoo. Damn… cough!"
The Whirlwind Ghost panted raggedly. Body screaming for oxygen, heart ready to burst. But slashed or ruptured veins couldn't deliver it. Tough shape to survive in. His empirical conclusion.
"Hey, old freak."
"Hoo, hoo… cough! Hoo…."
"You yapped about brotherhood when I sent Hwangbo Un off, right?"
"Crazy bitch. What're you…."
"Not that."
"What?"
"Not romantic feelings. I like girls. Sex with guys? Maybe once before dying? Hey, you old fart! That's where granny pee comes out!"
"What crazy talk!"
"What I'm saying is…"
Namgoong Juhee's gaze shifted again. Left, right. That simple move shattered his balance. Why his swift sword failed her? This.
Slice!
"Gaaaaah!"
In a blink, his left arm flew. Nickname now One-Arm Ghost—or One-Arm Retard. If he survived, anyway.
"I don't give finishers to anyone. Even if it's my parents."
"Ha… haha… hahahaha!"
"Nice. That's it. Gramps, good laugh. Perfect boss mob finale."
Delirious to the end. The Whirlwind Ghost eyed the girl.
That smile—how chilling.
"Heaven's killer bitch. I'll wait in hell."
Slice!
The Whirlwind Ghost's last words.
"Hahk…! Hahk…!"
Hwangbo Un ran. Had he ever run so desperately? Probably not. No life-saver or true friend before.
Everyone wore masks. Drawn to Hwangbo prestige and his muscles.
Spot a mask, you don one too. Hwangbo Un was no different.
Wore the mask of nonchalance, fulfilled young master duties. Spread connections, learned womanizing.
Revolting life. Full of pretense. As young master, forever? He thought so till this morning.
"Little Fist King is hahk… in trouble! Hahk…."
Then he met his first benefactor and friend at twenty-three. Cheerful, no pretense.
Just six hours together, but more at ease than ever. This is a true friend, he thought.
Why his heart fluttered thinking of Namgoong Juhee? Mystery.
Anyway, save her now. She knew her limits but dove in to save him. If she died, he'd regret till his own end.
"Hahk… hahk…! Fire!"
Firelight entered his view. Amid flames, faint "Hwangbo" characters.
He filled his lungs. Bellowed.
"Namgoong Juhee! Namgung Sojeo is in danger!"
Before stamina gave out and knees buckled, his sight caught the stern-faced Namgoong martial force leader. Namgoong Sihoon, right? That thought last as Hwangbo Un blacked out.