Slaps to Snap Her Awake
"...Stronger than I thought."
That was the thought of the martial artist clashing swords with Namgoong Juhee.
He had investigated her thoroughly over the past month.
On the direct orders of Yi Hayeon.
In his eyes, Namgoong Juhee was undoubtedly strong. She'd been in and out of the Black Residence's gambling dens, getting into scraps with the help without a single scratch. Same with smashing up that brothel. And when he heard she'd taken down both Heukgwa and Du at the same time, he'd figured she was one of the stronger ones among the Peak realm experts.
But he hadn't expected her to block his sword.
His attack just now had been a killing blow, plain and simple. He'd even unleashed the sixth form of the Iron Rule Sword, the most powerful one in its repertoire. Even Hayeon in her prime state wouldn't have blocked it.
"Hmm... not bad at all. Those dart guys earlier had some moves too. You're the Black Residence leader, right? Yeah?"
And Namgoong Juhee's take on the Iron Rule Sword? "Not bad."
The martial artist's face twisted in a scowl.
If Hayeon, tears streaming down her face, had seen it, she would've been shocked. Drawing any change on the cool, composed martial artist's face was no easy feat.
"Why no answer? Are you the Black Residence leader or not? Spill it quick—I hate killing NPCs offhand like this."
A tone like she could end him whenever she felt like it.
The martial artist was floored.
A Peak expert's skill came down to experience, mostly. Sword qi clashes were ultimately one-shot gambles. No amount of packed internal energy could outdo sheer veteran savvy.
And Namgoong Juhee was a ronin to boot. Ronin who stacked up that much internal energy were rare as hell. They couldn't make bank in the first place, and anyone with that kind of cash usually just settled down somewhere instead.
So she was outmatched in experience and internal energy. Yet here she was, cocky as ever. No wonder the martial artist was dumbfounded.
"Namgung Sojeo!"
A sharp voice rang out from behind.
"Master Kangmusa is a true expert! Don't let your guard down!"
That eased the martial artist's tension a bit. Hayeon had said exactly what he'd been thinking. No way she'd keep yapping now.
Or so he thought.
"Expert? This guy?"
Namgoong Juhee's crass tone boomed out again.
"Pfft, expert my ass. You're delusional."
"The more I hear, the more arrogant you sound."
That finally got under his skin. Veins bulged on the hand gripping his sword, bloodshot eyes throbbing. An invisible aura swirled around him like a storm—pure Peak expert menace, enough to make the onlookers flinch involuntarily.
"Ooh, hit a nerve."
All Namgoong Juhee did was curl her lips in a sly grin.
Like she'd planned it.
"We'll see how long that smugness lasts."
"Anyway, why ignore my question? Deaf from old age? Or dementia—you can't even process what I'm saying?"
"Who I am doesn't... "
"Matters. Big time. If you're not the Black Residence leader, I'll have killed an innocent guy, and boom—guilt trip city. Won't even get one dumpling down at dinner tonight."
Namgoong Juhee's mouth never stopped.
Provocation was key against experts.
Sparring came down to head games in the end—that's why experience ruled. But an excited mind didn't think straight. You'd end up making dumbass moves without realizing it.
"Old man, answer up. Black Residence leader or not?"
So she kept poking at Master Kangmusa.
Her face looked weirdly thrilled, but it was probably an act. Or maybe she was just a bitch who loved needling people.
"Black Residence leader! When are you jumping in?!"
Kangmusa bellowed at the Black Residence leader instead.
Not as a Peak expert, but on raw human instinct. The strong prey on the weak.
He'd unconsciously pegged this slip of a girl, young enough to be his granddaughter, as a top-tier threat.
"Y-yes! Coming... whoosh!"
"Add your sword! We'll kill these bitches here!"
Kangmusa's blade lashed out savagely.
Excluding the two idiot dart-slingers who'd bit it, this was only the second Peak expert Namgoong Juhee had crossed blades with. And yeah, Peak experts were no joke.
His sword crashed like a massive tidal wave.
Not super fast, but each strike hit like a giant breaker—you couldn't dodge.
Boom!Agh!Oof!
The floor cratered under his downward slash.
More than enough to pulp two scrawny girls in an instant.
"Huuuuh..."
A satisfied sigh escaped Kangmusa, laced with pleasant exhaustion.
Like he'd just cut together a funeral montage mad movie clip. Proof that strike had hit just right.
"You really look ready for your own funeral soon."
But a voice shattered that vibe right in front of him.
Owner obvious. Nobody else had that number-one-in-the-world voice.
"Cause of death? Not natural—maybe massive blood loss? Or shock from decapitation? Oh, that last one's 'head chopped off, you're done.'"
"...Black Residence leader!"
Kangmusa's roar finally got the fat slob moving.
But man, what a sorry sight. Pathetic? Revolting? Either way, no desire to cross swords with that.
Namgoong Juhee's gaze flicked back.
"I know you, right? Weren't you the guy who gave me three gold pieces last time?"
"Namgung Sojeo! Eyes front!"
"Pfft, I'm good."
Whoosh!
The Black Residence leader's sword sliced empty air—way off from Namgoong Juhee, just far-off nothing.
Kangmusa clocked his skill as even more trash than expected. Hayeon just blinked in disbelief at the impossible flub.
Whatever. Namgoong Juhee pressed on with oddly convincing eyes—the look she got when trash-talking foes.
"You gonna keep standing around like an idiot?"
"Huh?"
"Come on, you look Pseudo-Peak at least. Why zone out? Planning to die?"
Hayeon had no comeback.
Because it was true.
Kangmusa was the reason she'd survived this long. He'd pulled her from that slave pit—her lifesaver, like a father.
Betrayed by him? No reason to live. She'd figured repaying the debt by doing what he wanted, then dying.
"No answer, huh."
"Namgung Sojeo, I..."
"You what? Why so damn dense? You weren't like this first time I saw you."
"......"
Hah, this ain't working.
Namgoong Juhee eyed Hayeon's state and thought so. She raised her smooth palm.
And...
Slap!
Straight to Yi Hayeon's cheek. Hard enough to turn pale skin beet red.
"Wh-what the...?"
Slap!
Again.
"Namgung So..."
Slap!
Once more.
"Why the hell...?"
Slap!
One more time.
An absurd scene.
Sudden infighting froze Kangmusa and the Black Residence leader solid. They figured it was some ploy.
If Namgoong Juhee knew, she'd say no ploy at all.
"What the hell is this?!"
Finally, on the sixth slap, Yi Hayeon exploded in fury.
Her refined voice cracking with rage made everyone jolt. Especially Kangmusa—he'd never seen her mad in his life.
One person grinned like she'd gotten exactly what she wanted: the slapper herself, Namgoong Juhee.
"What? Mad?"
"No kidding! Who slaps someone out of nowhere like that? Of course I'm pissed!"
"Then why not get pissed at those assholes?"
"...Huh?"
"Slap hurts, sure, but you don't die. Those fuckers come at you with swords to kill you, and you just freeze. Right?"
Hayeon mumbled incoherently, no words coming.
She had arguments. You and Kangmusa the same?Ever felt betrayed by family?
But they were all excuses.
The kind Yi Hayeon hated most.
Finally, spirit returned to her eyes.
"...Namgung Sojeo."
"Good, you're awake. Handle that pig bastard. Old man's mine."
"Bit extreme."
Hayeon rose, cheeks still burning.
Not just from the slaps.
Main reason? Embarrassment, she told herself.
The unflappable judge dubbed Ice Flower for her eternal cool.
Always. Even in mind-breaking hell, she kept her poise.
But crumbling like this in front of everyone? Pure humiliation.
Yi Hayeon soothed herself that the heat in her face was shame.
Even knowing it wasn't.
If Namgoong Juhee heard, she'd ask if she was a masochist.