Chapter 117
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 117
Chapter Title: Chapter 33. Non-Sweating Gang (4)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Jeong-geum introduced the last man, a handsome fellow with the refined air of a noble young master.
"This is Sama Gulgi. He's joining us for this event due to personal circumstances, but he's a guest we'll be partnering with to achieve great things for our organization going forward."
An important guest of Cho Eojin?
Flying Tiger figured it was an overstatement.
If the man truly had the qualifications, no matter how urgent his situation, he wouldn't be sitting there so casually. At the very least, he should be seated with Cho Eojin's core leadership.
Yet Jeong-geum was in charge here, and to Flying Tiger's eyes, he was on the same level as Ho Yeohwa—hardly top brass.
So Jeong-geum's words weren't entirely baseless, but they were likely puffed up quite a bit.
And sure enough.
Sama Gulgi smiled faintly as he spoke.
"Jeong-geum's putting gold leaf on this Sama's face—it's too much to bear. Warrior Flying Tiger, I'm just a wandering swordsman from a fallen martial house, currently freeloading under someone else's roof to shield myself from the rain. So call me 'Unforgetting Sword.'"
"Sword That Does Not Forget... Not your original nickname, but it's loaded with meaning. Are you planning to rebuild that fallen sect of yours, by any chance?"
"Too grand a dream for these chaotic times?"
"Far from it. What would a lowly grunt like me know? But with the resolve of the Unforgetting Sword so steadfast, that blade of yours will accomplish anything."
Flying Tiger's mature encouragement made Sama Gulgi's eyes flicker. Not because he'd heard hope from Flying Tiger, but perhaps because this man called Flying Tiger might not be the person he'd expected.
To Flying Tiger's eyes as well, Sama Gulgi stood out sharply from the previous three.
Monk Jinseung Gon-son was bizarre, Lady Tang Bong Yeon-ja seductive, and Baldy Ilgwang dark and brutal.
All three screamed unorthodox faction origins. In contrast, Unforgetting Sword Sama Gulgi looked upright and proper—straight out of the orthodox sects, no question.
Maybe that's what Jeong-geum valued about him. After all, most of Cho Eojin's people belonged to the Martial Qin Alliance, which styled itself as orthodox.
And who knew? Though Sama Gulgi was just a lone ronin now, in the distant future, he might soar on the wings of this Cho Eojin organization.
No one could say.
Sama Gulgi pondered deeply for a moment, then chuckled softly and laid his true feelings bare.
"I'm truly grateful for such kind words from Warrior Flying Tiger. If heaven watches over me, who knows what the future holds? But I know my place and don't dare hope that far. Truth be told, as a branch family descendant, I lack the qualifications or justification to restore the main house. However..."
Sama Gulgi looked Flying Tiger straight in the eye and declared as if pronouncing a vow.
"I must repay the grace and grudges I've received. That's why this Unforgetting Sword intends to personally judge those vile beasts!"
"...?"
'This guy's burning with revenge too. But... why the hell is he staring right at me while saying that?'
A chill ran down his spine.
But Flying Tiger kept his expression unchanged and countered.
"Just wondering... would you like my support for that revenge of yours, Unforgetting Sword?"
"Not at all. This is solely my burden. Praise or condemnation from others means nothing—it's mine to carry."
Flying Tiger was at a loss.
Sama Gulgi was clearly provoking him. But Flying Tiger couldn't fathom his intent or reason.
Nor was this a spot to feign wide-eyed innocence with a 'Why are you suddenly being so scary?' That wasn't the image he wanted to project as an indignant ronin warrior to Cho Eojin's side.
So what now?
Flying Tiger scratched his head awkwardly and bowed his gaze. He let out a deep sigh, then snapped his head up—his eyes now sharp as daggers.
"Hey, Sama Gulgi. I don't like it when someone stares at me like you are. Makes me want to kill you."
"...!"
"So spill it. What's the problem?"
In an instant, Flying Tiger's aura shifted. Those watching from within the Upper Clarity Palace sharpened their gazes. The killing intent pouring from Flying Tiger exceeded their expectations.
Bong Yeon-ja chuckled nonchalantly, inserting herself into the conversation.
"Whew. Thought you were all innocent, little brother, but you've got some fire in you."
Monk Gon-son picked up her thread.
"Not just any temper—he's showing his true colors right away. Tsk tsk, did that hot head of his cut down the people from the group he's begging to join?"
Flying Tiger clicked his tongue inwardly.
So that's why they were acting up. He'd slaughtered that Yunseong Chirang bunch earlier, and it had caused trouble.
'No, maybe if I'd wiped them all out then, it wouldn't be an issue? Tsk, things got messy.'
The ronin Flying Tiger had killed at the slashers' hideout numbered six, meaning the Yunseong Chirang's leader wolf, Mo Neohui, hadn't been present.
'Stand guard at the pass all day, and if a ronin warrior shows up, bring him.'
Mo Neohui had figured such menial work(?) could be handled by his underlings—no need for him to step in.
But disaster struck during that errand, his brothers all cut down, turning him and Flying Tiger into irreconcilable enemies.
The problem was that Mo Neohui was a top-tier mercenary in Shansi Province—a talent even Cho Eojin wouldn't want to lose.
But between the cards in hand, one had to be discarded.
If Cho Eojin chose Flying Tiger, this was some kind of test.
They couldn't blindly accept someone they'd just been enemies with—no vetting. It made sense.
But if they'd chosen Mo Neohui and decided to eliminate Flying Tiger, this gathering was a trap.
Assuming Ho Yeohwa had deliberately lured him into their den, aware of his swift feet—it fit too perfectly!
So was this a test?
Or a trap?
Flying Tiger scanned the faces, wondering which it was.
In the Upper Clarity Palace, aside from himself, there were Monk Jinseung Gon-son, Lady Tang Bong Yeon-ja, Baldy Ilgwang, Unforgetting Sword Sama Gulgi, plus Ho Yeohwa and Jeong-geum—six in total.
Not one was a pushover.
Of course, Flying Tiger didn't think he'd lose to any of them one-on-one. But that meant if they swarmed him, he was done for.
Right now, he was like a lamb walking into the tiger's maw of his own accord.
Thud.
Unable to contain his anger, Flying Tiger stomped with a flushed face.
"Hey, Ho Yeohwa, this harassment, right? I went out of my way to be polite for your sake... and this is how you repay me?"
Ho Yeohwa stepped back casually and shrugged wordlessly.
Silence is golden.
No mouth, no excuses—he wasn't bothering to defend himself.
A glint flashed in Flying Tiger's eyes.
'Handle it yourself, huh? Not trying to kill me right now? Fine, let's test it.'
"Ha~ damn it. Ruining my mood. If that's how it is, screw this!"
Flying Tiger spat the words and turned to leave the Upper Clarity Palace.
Ilgwang, already on his feet, blocked the door, arms crossed.
"Hey, the elders are talking. Where you going?"
"Move."
"Heh heh heh, sit pretty when I say nice."
"I said move."
"... "
The two glared at each other from point-blank range.
Ilgwang smirked slyly for a moment, then uncrossed his right arm and snatched at Flying Tiger's collar.
Or tried to.
Crack.
Flying Tiger's left hand blade struck away Ilgwang's grab, folding the arm back.
Flying Tiger's gaze stayed locked on Ilgwang's eyes, feet planted firm.
Like swatting an annoying fly—light and indifferent.
'Oh?'
Ilgwang reacted instantly to his first move being blocked. He whipped his crossed left arm like a lash, aiming his knuckles at Flying Tiger's lower jaw.
But Flying Tiger, eyes still fixed, parried with his right hand blade.
Crack.
'This bastard!'
Ilgwang fumed as his arms crossed in an X, repelled and retracted from their locked position.
"Die!"
Ilgwang lunged in a rage.
Like a charging mad bull.
He planned to grapple and crush with his superior size and strength, figuring Flying Tiger had nimble hands.
At that moment, Flying Tiger moved.
Just before impact, he timely pulled his left foot back, twisting his torso. Using the spin, he caught the charging Ilgwang with his left hand and shoved with his right elbow.
Redirecting a fierce current.
Then, stepping forward again, he shoulder-checked Ilgwang away.
"Urk..."
Ilgwang's momentum veered, meeting the shoulder bash, lost balance, stumbled, and crashed spectacularly.
Crash!
The seventh form of the Swastika Crouching Tiger Fist: Opening the Gate, Dividing the Horses.
Swastika Crouching Tiger Fist.
The day before, Wang Baek-gun had sparred with Flying Tiger and White Viper. To warm up before their life-or-death duel with the White Horse Squad. That was the martial art Flying Tiger had demonstrated.
This fist art modeled the swirling swastika (卍) as the footwork path: advance and retreat, open and close.
Atop that footwork, it unfolded one of the Shaolin Five Fists: Tiger Fist. That was the essence.
With such a clear path, the strikes were straightforward too. In exchange, the power surging from a stable lower body was fierce and unyielding.
No fancy tricks or flashy techniques.
This aligned perfectly with the essence of the Sixty-Four Roads Wind Water Illusion sword forms Flying Tiger drilled endlessly.
Fundamental martial foundations.
Flying Tiger had made his mainstays the basic arts others touched briefly in childhood initiation, then discarded. They could seem dull, yet he'd doggedly mastered them to completion.
Better to master one properly than dabble in many.
In actual combat, he pulled every trick and variation, but that was possible only because he'd solidly built his body as the vessel first.
In that vein, the Ancient Five Animals Way from Ma Yeop suited him perfectly too.
This practice lagged in 'accumulating qi'—the prime goal for most in the jianghu. But it excelled in harmonizing body and mind, expelling impurities, and such ancillary benefits.