Explosion Is Art
The moment the match was decided, a roar filled the tavern.
"Waaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!!!!!"
"It's over!!!!!!"
"To end it in a single breath!!!!!!! Like an espresso shot of real combat, pure concentrated mind games!!!!!!"
And in the same instant, the crowd reeled in shock.
"He melted her arm with poison arts!!!!!!"
"What kind of poison did he even use?!!!!!!"
"He wrecked a mechanical arm!!!!! Did he use some kind of acid solution!!!!!"
No — anyone with eyes could see he'd just ripped it off with raw physical force. Gong Ryun was baffled.
Everyone was simply assuming it was poison. In people's heads, Gong Ryun was the poison-arts freak, so of course. That was the terrifying power of a fixed idea.
"Ah. He just tore it off with strength."
Only after a beat did the audience realize it hadn't been poison arts at all — it had been physical poison arts.
"Wait, so where was the poison art?"
"More importantly, what about the internal energy contest…"
"A poison-arts freak who didn't use poison arts? Hang on — maybe he… can't use them…"
Just as doubt began to sprout among the spectators, Loro bellowed.
"Hahahahahahahaha!!!!!! How foolish!!!!! To draw out the San-gong-dok Goe-in's poison arts!!!!! That level of skill isn't even close enough!!!!! Big Bro is a hardcore-mode enjoyer!!!!!! Against opponents who aren't qualified, he seals his poison arts and indulges in extreme bare-handed combat!!!!!!! If you want to draw out the true power of the Sichuan Tang Clan!!!!!! You'll have to come back stronger, Dokdan Sword Maiden!!!!!!!"
At that, the South Gate erupted.
"Oooooooooooh!!!!!! San-gong-dok Goe-in!!!!!! AE City's greatest psycho!!!!!!"
"Kyahahaha!!!! Come back stronger, northern brats!!!!!!"
"I knew it!!!!! He really was a total pervert masochist freak, San-gong-dok Goe-in!!!!!!"
"A monstrous lust-for-battle type really is different!!!!!!! But wait, what happened to the internal energy contest!!!!!"
"San-gong-dok punch!!!! San-gong-dok punch!!!!!! Long live the South Gate!!!!!!!!"
"I believed in you, Gong Ryun!!!!!"
"Kyahahaha, you lost, huh? Got wrecked by a poison-arts guy who didn't even use poison, huh? Pathetic~~~"
The North Dragon Gate mercenaries could only groan.
There was nothing left to say.
"How was I supposed to know a guy like that would come out…"
"So he really is the city's most vicious freak…"
"Damn it, we got completely humiliated…"
"So where did the internal energy contest go…"
"We shouldn't have come…"
In the midst of the cheers and sighs filling the tavern, the waiter wiped his chest in relief.
Thank goodness there was no poison-arts terrorism…
He'd still been half-expecting it, but thankfully nothing had happened. The tension drained out of him so thoroughly his whole body felt limp. Well — there shouldn't be any further threats now.
There shouldn't have been.
Beep.
"?"
Gong Ryun heard a strange sound. A short mechanical beep.
Beep.
Beep.
He turned his head, searching for the source, and found it coming from the mechanical arm.
Dokdan Sword Maiden's prosthetic — the one he was still holding after ripping it free.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
What was this? Probably a malfunction.
He'd wrecked it inside and out, so it wasn't surprising.
From what he'd seen in the fight, it was quite the gadget arm, packed with functions. Poison synthesis, smoke emission, poison-needle launchers — it wouldn't be strange if it had something else as well.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
But what function was it, exactly? Why all the beeping? Surely it wasn't an alarm setting.
Gong Ryun walked over to Dokdan Sword Maiden, still collapsed a short distance away.
A martial artist was still a martial artist — under the care of the surrounding North Dragon Gate mercenaries, she had already regained consciousness in that brief span. Not that she was in her right mind. She couldn't so much as twitch; her eyes were glazed and unfocused, with only a faint thread of awareness returned.
Gong Ryun asked her a question.
"Hey. This thing keeps beeping. What is it?"
"Wh…o…? Ah… San-gong…dok…Goe-in…"
"Hmm… you're in rough shape. Look, I'll give this back, so once you come to, deal with it yourself — stop it or whatever. It's your own arm, so it shouldn't have anything that dangerous in it. Sorry about wrecking it a bit."
"Gi…ft…"
"Hm?"
"A special… gift… for you… Great San-gong-dok Goe-in… sequence…"
A special gift.
Before fighting Gong Ryun, Dokdan Sword Maiden had definitely said something like that.
Kikikik. The truth is, I'm something of a fan of yours. I came here because I wanted to face you. I prepared a "special gift" just for you!
"Ah… is that so. What did you prepare, then? A ten-thousand-year cold iron poison needle? A secret poison dagger? Oh, a detox device?"
"Romance…"
"What?"
"A poison martial artist's… romance……"
"And what is that supposed to be?"
A poison martial artist's romance. What on earth could that mean.
"Sequence… self-destruct… sequence."
"……???"
"Mutual… assured destruction……"
"Huh?"
And in that instant—
Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeep------
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!
It went off.
A massive surge of smoke erupted from the mechanical arm. Smoke white as snow.
Not a gunpowder bomb.
A chemical weapon. Poison gas.
That was the true identity of the special gift.
A mutual-assured-destruction biochemical agent for the San-gong-dok Goe-in. An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth.
The toxic smoke spread in an instant. The tavern turned hazy, as if thick fog had rolled in. You couldn't see any distance at all.
People instinctively held their breath or activated respiratory-reinforcement martial arts.
No one knew what this smoke actually was. Distinguishing poisons by scent was something only specialists usually managed.
They could only thrash in confusion.
And at the source of that dense smoke, Gong Ryun knew exactly what the poison was.
They'd tried to scrub the smell, apparently — but he didn't miss the faint trace of phytoncide still laced through it.
It was a scent more familiar than anything else.
The scent of home.
"It's San-gong-dok."
Gong Ryun's voice rolled out low.
It wasn't that loud, yet people couldn't help but focus on it. It was the word of an expert.
Those on the first floor who heard him up close froze solid. Even those farther out who hadn't caught the voice read the atmosphere and went quiet. Amid that hush, Gong Ryun's next words rang out louder.
"High-purity San-gong-dok."
The tavern fell silent for a heartbeat.
And then—
"Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!!!!!!! High-concentration San-gong-dok!!!!!!!"
Chaos erupted.
Panic.
Biochemical panic.
"It's a San-gong-dok explosion!!!!!!!!!!"
"Biochemical terrorism!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Permanent internal energy deletion!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Screams tore out from every direction.
The tavern plunged into panic.
"Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!"
"Somebody help!!!!!! Aaaaaaaah!!!!!!"
"Hkieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!! Not my dantian!!!!!!"
Tables flipped.
Chairs went flying.
Everyone began to flee for their lives.
"The exit!!!!!!!! Where's the exiiiiit!!!!!!!"
"Smash the windows and ruuuun!!!!!!!"
"Kyaaaaah!!!! This is anti-blade glass!!!!!!!!!"
The waiter sprinted over and drove his fist into the red button mounted on the wall. Crash! The protective glass shattered as the button was pressed.
The biochemical terrorism alert button.
> BIOCHEMICAL TERRORISM ALERT!!!
> BIOCHEMICAL TERRORISM ALERT!!!
Sirens flooded the tavern.
And under the automatic response system, alarms began to blare in every nearby building as well.
Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaail!!!!!!!
Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaail!!!!!!!
Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaail!!!!!!!
On the first floor, people surged toward the exits. A massive crowd piled up all at once.
"Kyaaaaaah!!!!!! Move faster up froooont!!!!!!"
"Don't push!!!!!!"
"Maintain order!!!!"
"Smash the side wall and escape!!!!!!!"
"The wall won't break!!!! We renovated it expensive, it's ridiculously sooooolid!!!!!!!"
"Aaaaaaaah!!! Nooooooooo!!!!!! This is ten-thousand-year cold iron wall!!!!!!"
Upstairs, people were smashing windows to jump. Skilled fighters used emergency anti-blade-glass-destruction techniques on the reinforced panes to secure an escape route, and everyone else body-checked their way out through the openings.
The four from the Orthodox faction joined the evacuation as well.
"Biochemical terrorism response protocol! First secure normal respiration via breathing-method martial arts second rapidly identify contaminated zone and contamination source then secure escape route third ensure safety of nearby infants toddlers and elderly fourth!"
Reciting the perfect manual, Namgung Hyeong used godlike telekinetic control to lift every table and chair to the ceiling, clearing a path for the third-floor evacuees — while simultaneously hoisting the elderly couple who'd been sitting nearby onto both shoulders.
"I will break this wall!!! Evacuate through here!!!"
Hyukryeon Wiseol, who also knew the manual but trusted Namgung Hyeong to handle the rest, carved a wide opening through one wall with his sword arts to secure an escape route for people first.
"Um… Karina… I'm an adult, you knooow…"
"Ah, oops!! You look so much like a kid I just grabbed you on instinct!!"
Karina, who had instinctively scooped up Bernoulli — whose appearance closely matched a priority-protection child — under one arm. And Bernoulli, who simply let himself be carried without protest.
"Gas! Gas! Gas!"
"Don't breathe!!!"
"Damn it!! The poison is punching through the breathing methods!!!"
"It's real high-concentration San-gong-dok!!!"
"Permanent internal energy reductioooooon!!!!!!!!"
"Do you know how much blood and sweat I poured into building my internal energy!!!!!!!"
"Just kill meeeeeee!!!!!!"
In the middle of the tavern, where everyone was evacuating in chaos—
at the first-floor epicenter of this biochemical attack, Gong Ryun simply stood where he was.
He did not panic.
He did not fear losing his internal energy the way the others did.
Gong Ryun drew a breath.
The internal energy in his dantian evaporated permanently. The distinctive San-gong effect of high-purity San-gong-dok — permanently scattering one's internal power.
But the amount of evaporation was vanishingly small.
Compared to the other people still trapped in the tavern, losing internal energy in real time to San-gong-dok exposure, it was less than a drop in the ocean.
He was used to this situation in the first place.
Internal energy draining from the body through San-gong action. That was something Gong Ryun had lived with his entire life. So he felt no particularly strong psychological resistance.
Gong Ryun's dantian. His body. They had already been marinated in the San-gong effect.
From the moment of his birth.
Under ordinary circumstances, conditions under which one could never become a great martial artist.
And yet he had become one.
As I thought… so this is why spiritual medicines don't take…
He'd vaguely suspected as much, but some part of him had still unconsciously refused to accept it.
The origin of his constitution — the one that barely absorbed spiritual medicines — was almost certainly this body steeped in San-gong. He had no hard proof, but nothing else came to mind.
"Tsk. Nothing to be done about it."
Yeah. Nothing to be done. He couldn't exactly swap out his body.
He'd just have to find a method other than spiritual medicines.
Gong Ryun did not despair.
"Mmm-. The smell of home."
Instead, he decided to savor this long-missed scent of home.
His eyes grew distant, remembering the past.
He dragged a nearby chair over and sat.
Chin propped in his hand, settled comfortably in a chairman-of-the-board pose, he sank into contemplation with the pandemonium as ASMR.
"My internal energy!!!!!!!!! Hkieaaaaaaaah!!!!!!!!!!"
As familiar as ever, some unfortunate soul's scream drifted over from the far side.