Martial Arts World (7)
Si-woo pressed himself tight against Seo Ji-yoo. The space was narrow to begin with, but he deliberately moved closer, closing the distance until their body heat seeped through to each other.
"W-Wait a moment...!"
"Ahem...! It's a bit cramped. My apologies."
Seo Ji-yoo's face twisted in a fierce frown. Because she had entered with her hands pressed to her chest, the back of his hand brushed against her breasts. He focused his mind and savored the sensation of her body, rubbing lightly so she wouldn't notice, measuring their size. He savored the movement of the soft flesh that yielded softly.
'F... no, a G-cup.'
It was hard to discern the shape with her pressed tight, but he managed. Teardrop-shaped, beautiful breasts. Her clothing was incredibly thin. Jet black, the kind of black that wouldn't even be visible in dim light. It was as if she was wearing tights over her entire body. The thin fabric let the fantastic sensation transmit directly.
'Wearing such thin clothes. How infuriating.'
She wasn't wearing a bra either. Yet they didn't jiggle. It felt as if her breasts were wrapped in a thin layer of cloth. She was worth disciplining.
Squelch!
"Eeuk...! Get that hand away!"
"This posture leaves me no choice. It's too cramped."
If he wanted to change position, he'd have to go out and come back in. Her tone was growing harsher by the moment. She spoke through gritted teeth, keeping her voice low.
"Then just go out and come back in!"
"Ahem...! And what if someone comes while I'm doing that? Then both you and I would die."
"In that case, just go out qui—... Hyaaak...?!"
He traced around her nipple using the bone on the back of his hand. She was quite sensitive — an involuntary moan slipped out.
"Ah, my apologies."
He wasn't sorry at all. He forced down the corners of his mouth that threatened to curl upward. He pushed his hips forward little by little. The spot that had stiffened pressed against the inside of her thigh.
"Eeuk...?!"
Her eyes went wide. She wasn't immune to this sort of thing — her face flushed bright red. Just when she could no longer endure the subtle, continuous groping and was about to explode —
KWAAAANG!
A loud sound rang out from somewhere close. Those thugs. No, the martial artists were right at their doorstep.
"Hheup...!"
In the end, she could only drop her head with a bright red face. Because now it was truly too late. Si-woo wanted to just start thrusting his hips right then and there. The inside of her thigh was so warm it felt incredible.
A little earlier.
The martial artists who had entered the honest entrance of the secret vault. They couldn't help but be astonished. A path wide enough for a decent-sized carriage to pass stretched out before them.
"Wasn't this supposed to be underground? It's incredibly spacious..."
"Indeed. Just as one would expect from the secret vault of the Shadowless Divine Fist."
The path to the vault was simple. All they had to do was walk along the tunnel that stretched straight ahead. Of course, that wasn't to say there were no obstacles. What blocked their path were dozens of traps.
A martial artist at the forefront furrowed his brow.
"This place is also probably full of traps."
The method they used to break through the traps was simple. They would just brute-force their way through using martial arts.
"This time, I'll handle it."
A promising young master from the orthodox faction stepped forward confidently. As soon as he entered the corridor, a rain of arrows poured from all directions.
Ting! Ting! Ting!
"Hyaaap...! Chain of Thirty-Two Swords!"
His arms swung at a speed that made them nearly invisible. Dozens of arrows were deflected in all directions as brilliant sparks scattered everywhere. He swatted away the entire rain of arrows pouring from every side with a single sword.
"Hheok...! Hheok...!"
He stood holding his sword in a magnificent pose, but his fingertips trembled minutely. That last technique had consumed half his internal energy. An arrow that had grazed his shoulder sent a trickle of blood streaming down.
"Ahem..."
He dusted off the injury as if nothing was wrong. Then he pointed to one of the unaffiliated rogue martial artists.
"You'll take the lead next."
"What...? Why me?"
"Are you suggesting we should be the ones to suffer all the hardship? That's not acceptable."
"Tch...! How annoying..."
Orthodox and unorthodox. Their martial prowess was similar. It was hard to outright refuse the other's words.
Mo Yong-cheol watched them and his eyes gleamed. One of his basic missions was to undermine the prestige of the orthodox faction. The biggest difference between orthodox and unorthodox sects was their adherence to moral principles and justice. What seemed meaningless was actually the orthodox faction's greatest strength. A power that united them when situations grew difficult, and made hidden heroes emerge — the power of justice was stronger than one might think.
Mo Yong-cheol stepped forward.
"Heh...! Why bother deliberating over something like that? I, Mo Yong-cheol, will handle it."
"...You seem somewhat lacking in martial arts, wouldn't you say?"
Looking at his pudgy body, no one trusted him. But his method, though simple and brutish, was devastatingly effective. Mo Yong-cheol kicked the back of a rogue martial artist who was standing there dumbly.
"Ugh...?!"
The rogue's face went pale as he was shoved and sent tumbling. He tried to get up and run immediately, but it was too late.
Swish! Swish!
Thwack! Thwack!
"Kyaaaaah!"
Holes were punched through the rogue's entire body. It was from arrows shooting out from the walls.
"Keok...!"
By unlucky chance, his neck was pierced as well, and he collapsed to the floor. An unorthodox master seeing this clapped and cheered.
"Kkha...! You're quite bold, my friend!!"
The Mo Yong family was orthodox. Yet their actions were no different from the unorthodox faction.
"No need to waste internal energy on something so annoying. What do you think of my method?"
"It's bloody brilliant. I guess the well-bred ones really are different."
Mo Yong-cheol grinned and pointed to the next rogue martial artist.
"You! Step forward!"
"P-Please spare me! I, I..."
"Shut your mouth! Do you want to die?!"
The path to the secret vault of the Shadowless Divine Fist was filled with trap mechanisms. At this rate, more than half the rogues would die. At the shocking sight, one orthodox martial artist shouted.
"Mo Yong-cheol! What is the meaning of this?!"
"The rogues shouldn't just be freeloaders. If you don't like it, you can take the lead again yourselves."
"You...!"
Mo Yong-cheol was unyielding. In the end, the group continued forward.
"Go."
"Ugh..."
A third-rate rogue leaped into the trap of his own accord. He had no choice with the sword prodding his back. He looked around with tense eyes. Nothing happened. Traps that shot arrows or poison needles were not infinite.
"Hheok! Hheok!"
"Hmm... You're lucky. Let's go."
Because the arrows had been expended, the mechanism had stopped working. Mo Yong-cheol's vicious orders. But no one stopped him. The unorthodox side, on the contrary, gleamed with satisfaction and nodded approvingly. The orthodox side was the same. They merely frowned but didn't try to stop him anymore.
"Senior brother... Isn't this too harsh?"
"It can't be helped. If only we sacrifice ourselves, our internal energy will be inferior to those unorthodox bastards. We cannot allow our orthodox martial arts to fall into their hands."
"But..."
They armored themselves with the cause of keeping the unorthodox forces in check.
Mo Yong-cheol killed people like a madman. It was an act that went beyond harming his personal reputation and into sullying his family's honor, but he didn't care. His goal was to erode trust in the orthodox faction. Still, if he went too far, only the Mo Yong family would be treated as unorthodox, so he had to walk a fine line. As it was now, the orthodox faction that had tacitly agreed was equally guilty. And indeed, the surviving rogues' gazes were filled with hostility toward them. If those people survived, very interesting rumors would spread.
A massive door appeared before their thoroughly battered group.
"This seems to be the last one."
"Indeed! Such a massive door..."
The door alone was two or three times the height of a grown man. They could sense that the end of the vault was near. Mo Yong-cheol's eyes gleamed. Even if only half of the records about the Shadowless Divine Fist were true, this place would be filled with gold, silver, and treasure. A sight that would make anyone lose their mind. His plan was to rush in recklessly and stimulate the martial artists' greed. Once one person started charging in, it was impossible to hold back. Chaos would erupt in an instant. By killing them one by one while taking advantage of that chaos, a bloodbath was inevitable. His mission was to create seeds of conflict between the orthodox and unorthodox factions. Others would handle fanning the flames.
'Finally.'
A massive door. Beyond this lay piles of treasure. The most dangerous and critical moment. Mo Yong-cheol controlled his internal energy and prepared to dash forward.
Creek...!
At the sound of the massive door opening, everyone held their breath and tensed up. Anticipation and greed reached their peak.
"I-It's opening...!"
"Indeed...!"
The door opened. Mo Yong-cheol's foot, just about to dash forward, stopped. A sight completely different from what he had expected spread before them.
It was completely empty. There was not a single thing — let alone dazzling golden light. An uncomfortable silence flowed among them.
The martial artists from the Myeong family, who had been quietly staying at the back, stepped forward. A barren landscape with nothing. Their faces instinctively twisted.
"What the hell...!"
"Goddammit!! This is it? There's nothing here!"
"Senior brother! There's something here!"
At his shout, almost all the martial artists' gazes focused. A single sheet of paper lay on the floor. The only thing in this vast cavern. A sentence that wasn't very long was written on it. It could be read at a glance.
A young unorthodox master gritted his teeth.
"Fucking hell...!"
He clenched his fist. The words written there made one's blood boil just from reading them.
"Holy shit...!!"
The orthodox sect members were no different. At his usually dignified senior brother's cursing, his junior disciple approached cautiously, eyeing him. He was short and couldn't see the paper properly.
"...What's wrong, senior brother?"
His senior brother silently stepped aside and pointed to the paper. After reading it, the junior disciple felt numbness creep up the back of his head. He couldn't help but clutch his neck as the blood pressure spiked automatically.
The true treasure...
is the friendship you all forged along the way!
"Ueok...!"