Sichuan's Greatest Nangin, The Star Instructor — Practical Edition 2
While I was still turning those worries over, my feet moved on their own.
The moment I closed the distance, the Black Path guys looked thoroughly flustered.
Do you know why people like these aren't classified as Unorthodox Sects but as Black Path instead?
Because they failed to meet even the bare minimum standard that would let anyone call them a martial faction.
Thugs who couldn't even make it as proper gangsters. Half-baked amateurs who'd never learned real martial arts and had never trained a day in their lives.
Thwack!
My flying kick slammed square into the chest of the big guy who had size and nothing else — no real muscle to speak of.
"Urgh!"
Even if I was only Second-rate, dealing with friends like these was trivial.
"Y-You bastard!"
Black Path Number Two beside him charged in, but it was a wild flailing that didn't even have the basics of a proper punch, let alone martial arts. I leaned my upper body back, slipped it easily, then drove a knee into his side. As he staggered I kicked out the back of his knee and finished it.
Numbers Three and Four shuffled backward, hesitant.
Hmm. What now.
Even for Black Path, I hadn't expected them to be complete greenhorns who'd never learned a single scrap of real martial arts…
Up to this point I had fought using only my body, without a drop of internal energy.
Subduing the Black Path guys too quickly would have been a problem. Given the nature of today's request I needed to drag things out, so I had only struck them flashily on the surface. They were supposed to pop back up like roly-poly toys and charge in again so I could kill time naturally.
So with the first guy it was more accurate to say I had pushed him with my foot than attacked with a kick. The knee I gave the second one could have rattled his bones and damaged his organs, yet I only hit the surface; the kick to the back of the knee simply folded his leg rather than injecting internal energy to shatter it.
And yet the first one was still clutching his chest, unable to rise, and the second was rolling on the ground.
In short, it was the situation of someone who'd been given a fake slap collapsing and refusing to get up. Watching those two, Black Path Three and Four behind them lost all will to fight.
Come on — even newborn puppies have more fight than this. These were complete wet straws. There's a limit to how much of a weakling you're allowed to be. These were the kind of weaklings where the old lady over there going "Aigoo, aigoo" while picking up chestnuts nonstop could probably beat them all if she charged with her cane.
"…Pathetic."
I clasped my left hand behind my back. Honestly I was a practical man very far removed from this kind of posturing. An opponent I could subdue with one hand? Wouldn't the normal way of thinking be to use both hands and finish them even faster?
I could never understand the Central Plains Murim sensibility that found it cool to teabag with one hand and toy with an opponent for a long time even when you could put them down in an instant.
That was me — yet right now I had no choice but to put my hand behind my back with the feeling of stepping into filthy water. These kids were wet-straw weaklings, but I still needed to buy time.
"For maggots like you, one hand is enough."
"Y-You bastard, I'll show you!"
"Take this, my ultimate technique! Twin Dragon Fist!"
Wow. I had never seen guys this baseless before.
Black Path Three charged in swinging his arms like windmills; Black Path Four thrust both fists out at once. Even kids playing hero in the back alleys fought with more system than this.
Thwack-thwack-thwack!
My body moved like lightning. I knocked Three's attack aside with knife-hands on both arms, then chopped his forehead with a knife-hand strike. Four, who had used Twin Dragon Fist, I simply shoved sideways and toppled.
"Ugh… uuugh."
"Strong…!"
Looking at the guys collapsed on the ground unable to rise, a serious question rose in me. Even so, these were all big guys — did it make any sense for them to be this weak?
As I frowned at the unease, a thought flashed through my mind.
Could this be Luck activating?
Luck, the mastery reward for the Gambling skill, had exactly the characteristic its name suggested and occasionally brought about good fortune. Had Luck activated on this request and caused water-balloon-weak Black Path guys to appear?
It really had activated in the most useless place possible.
I still needed to buy time.
I ran over to Black Path Number One, who was clutching his stomach and crawling away, and stepped on his back.
"Uwaaaaagh!!"
Holy crap.
I only stepped on his back — why is he screaming like that?!
Reflexively I put force into my leg.
"Gyaaaaaah!"
Number One let out a tragic moan as if his family jewels had been crushed. I could understand making noise from having his back stepped on, but wasn't this crossing the line?
"Th-That vicious…!"
"Even if they're Black Path, to do that to a person!"
The market people watching my fight with the Black Path guys stirred. It was because of Number One's wailing that sounded exactly like the pain of having his guts severed.
Honestly, I was flustered. The idea that this was Luck's effect was only my guess, and I couldn't keep my head with the surrounding situation changing so rapidly regardless of my will.
"Stop! Stooop! Torment me instead, you bastard!"
Black Path Number Two cried out with tragic grandeur.
"No, you devilish Nangin bastard! Me! Torment me!!"
"Over here! Twin Dragon Fist is right here!"
Three and Four also yelled at the tops of their lungs.
It was hard to keep my bearings with the rapidly changing situation, but I lifted my foot off Number One's back for now.
"Huff, huff!!"
Number One gasped for breath like he'd just been released from having his bones crushed and tendons severed.
"Yeah, it's me, you bastard! You filthy Plum Sword bastard!"
…Ah, screw it.
I stepped on the back of Number Two's hand as he lay there clutching his knee. Gently, without putting force into it. Even though it was such a light foot touch that it wouldn't have crushed a chestnut rolling around the market right now if one had been under my sole, Black Path Number Two trembled all over.
"Uuuugh, uuugh!! Ughughugh!!"
His face turned red, veins stood out on his neck, and drool dripped. He bit his lips and groaned as if enduring truly immense agony, to the point that even I, the one stepping on him, started to wonder, Maybe my senses are off and I'm actually applying enough pressure to completely shatter every bone in his hand?
Is this really the Luck effect? Is this a hidden-camera prank?
Wondering if Black Cat might be playing a prank, I looked over that way. The earlier nonchalant attitude was gone; he was leaning his upper body out of the alley, staring this way. I couldn't see his face, but anyone could tell it was an intrigued expression — he looked like he was craving popcorn.
I shook my head to clear the thought. What would Black Cat gain from pulling a prank like this?
"What's all this ruckus!"
"We are martial artists of the Taegyeong Sect!"
At that moment welcome shouts finally reached my ears. I had never waited so desperately for a request's clients as I had today.
"It's Orthodox martial artists!"
"Over here! There's a Nangin over here!"
The surrounding people clamored. Hearing the clamor, the Taegyeong Sect martial artists quickly approached my way, and the Sichuan people who cleared the path cheered as they welcomed them.
"Waaaaaah! The Orthodox martial artists are here!"
The Taegyeong Sect martial artists shouted the moment they saw me.
"You filthy Plum Sword bastard! Get that foot off right now!"
"Heh heh, this foot? Why don't you try moving me yourself."
"You bastard! I am Kang Jun, One-Step Three Swords of the Taegyeong Sect!"
Kang Jun immediately drew his sword and charged.
Hey, you clueless bastard. Aren't you Orthodox? If you're Orthodox you should first take a starting stance and only come in after the opponent accepts it.
I, who had been focused on acting, also hurriedly gripped my sword hilt. This Kang Jun guy's level was roughly Second-rate.
Swish-swish!
Kang Jun's consecutive attacks, launched with all his might, maxed out at two. If his moniker was One-Step Three Swords, shouldn't he at least throw three regardless of power?
Anyway, you've got to hand it to Central Plains guys for their posturing.
Clang!!
Without time to fully draw my sword, I parried the two sword techniques with a half-drawn blade.
Even as a Second-rate martial artist, the difference between me and him was stark. I was a completely maxed-out Second-rate; he was just a regular Second-rate.
Stuck in the unheard-of situation of having Second-rate as my limit realm, I had maxed out every stat I could raise as a Second-rate and completed the optimal martial arts combination usable at Second-rate.
To use a game analogy, I was at level 30 with extreme endgame full gear in a game where the level cap is 100. Who would play a game that way? A normal user would just level up to 100 with minimal gear.
The martial artists of Murim Cheonha were the same. The vast majority only tried to rise above their current realm and had little interest in equipping the maximum force they could unleash at their current realm. They only refined things reluctantly because their realm wouldn't rise.
If the level is higher, of course even extreme endgame full gear at level 30 would get stomped easily — but at similar levels a stark difference was inevitable.
"Ugh!"
Kang Jun's attack was easily neutralized, and unable to withstand the rebound force from my sword, he retreated a step.
As the attack that had charged at me with such momentum bounced off so emptily easily, the surrounding atmosphere turned chilly.
Oh crap!
I had failed to control my strength while trying to block the attack too urgently.