Chapter 130
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 130
Chapter Title: Chapter 37. Kidnapping (3)
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The refined woman was fortunately not Jo Baek-bing. She was someone Flying Tiger had never seen before.
Flying Tiger's heart nearly stopped.
It was something he'd steeled himself for. But even so, what choice would he have made if that woman had been Jo Baek-bing?
Who could say for sure.
Meanwhile, Sama Gul-gi, who had stepped forward as Flying Tiger's vanguard, began exchanging verbal barbs with the men on the other side of the bridge.
Sama Gul-gi stood at the entrance to the Tiger Skin Bridge first, arms crossed, blocking the way. It was a silent declaration that they weren't getting through.
In response, a tall young man stepped forward with anger etched on his face.
Then, a sleek middle-aged man from the rear held the young man back with a hand and took his place. He placed one foot at the opposite entrance to the Tiger Skin Bridge and spoke.
"Where do you hail from? They call me Yang Ji the Wanderer among friends of the jianghu."
As expected, the middle-aged man was Yang Ji the Wanderer.
As he spoke, he casually flipped open one side of his robe to reveal the sword at his waist. It was a warning: we're ready to draw steel if need be, so if you lack the guts to see blood, get lost.
Sama Gul-gi responded bluntly with what he had to say.
"Put down everything you've got and scram."
"Are you a bandit hero? I pass through here often, but you seem like newcomers just starting your business..."
"None of your business. Either drop your goods or draw that sword at your waist. Pick one."
Yang Ji tilted his head.
Then, unexpectedly, he pulled a small money pouch from his bosom and tossed it over. Sama Gul-gi caught it reflexively, and it made a substantial clink.
"I've put in extra out of consideration for your face. Normally, this wouldn't happen, but today is an auspicious day for our Zhao Family Manor, so I don't want to see any blood. If you carry a blade, you know the ways of the jianghu. Let it go this time and back off."
Sama Gul-gi was flustered.
The goal had been to provoke a fight, but he'd gone and accepted a toll fee. It looked like he'd tacitly agreed by taking the payoff. Worse, the man was invoking face and propriety—points hard for someone raised on orthodox sect teachings to ignore.
But he couldn't very well say, "Yes, sir. Come back anytime."
So... what now? How to keep picking a fight? Should he return the money first?
Flying Tiger clicked his tongue at Sama Gul-gi's awkward predicament.
'All right, fine. Just leave it to me? Typical of a goody-two-shoes from the orthodox sects... Tsk. For this kind of thing, that thick-skinned thief Ilgwang would've been perfect.'
Glancing sideways, Flying Tiger saw Ilgwang—disguised with a black cloth patch under his eyes—pretending to gaze at distant mountains.
This had happened on the way to Gold Mountain.
"Listen up, ahem! That Yo Mountain Sword or whatever? I'll handle his junior disciple for sure."
"Sure thing."
"......"
"What?"
Flying Tiger readily accepted, figuring it was less of a mental burden to take the unknown guy over Yo Mountain Sword's junior. But from Ilgwang's perspective, he'd mustered the courage to speak up, only for it to be accepted too easily.
What he meant was that Flying Tiger had brushed it off without grasping the intent. When Flying Tiger shot him a questioning look, Ilgwang hurriedly elaborated.
"I mean, I'll take one of them, so you two handle the other... that Wanderer guy."
"Hm. You ever fought the Wanderer before?"
"Ahem! Truth is, that filthy bastard's dirty tricks disgusted me so much I tangled with him once. Shame it ended in a draw."
"A draw my ass. Sounds like he sized you up. Got fleeced good."
"Hey! What a misunderstanding!"
"Then how about we set the stage properly this time? Sama and I will pin down that Yo Mountain Sword punk, so you want to go all out—thousand clashes or ten thousand?"
Ilgwang squirmed under Flying Tiger's ridicule and made excuses.
"Strictly speaking, I did take a bit of a loss that day. Just a little?"
"Fleeced, confirmed."
"Hey now. Little brother, don't misunderstand. It wasn't about skill at all."
"Then what?"
"That bastard has this demonic sword that steals your soul. Got caught off guard and paid for it."
"Demonic sword?"
"Yeah. A freakish thing. Anyway, you and Brother Sama, be careful if you face him. Ahem."
Flying Tiger snorted.
Separate from Ilgwang sharing key info, fights in the jianghu were like that anyway.
Poison, hidden weapons, demonic beasts, or deceptive ultimate techniques bordering on trickery. Whatever it took to win—that was the rule.
Come to think of it...
Yeah. Flying Tiger glared at Ilgwang, who stubbornly insisted he hadn't truly lost despite the excuses.
Sama Gul-gi, who'd been following silently, finally intervened to mediate. He'd take point and handle Yang Ji the Wanderer alone.
"A demonic sword, eh? Sounds intriguing. I'll show off what I couldn't finish last time, so Warrior Flying Tiger, watch from behind."
"Uh... you sure?"
"Leave it to me."
And so they settled on this matchup:
- Ilgwang of the One-Day Free Style vs. Yo Mountain Sword Go Dan-o.
- Unforgetting Sword Sama Gul-gi vs. Wanderer Yang Ji.
- Spectator: Flying Tiger.
Flying Tiger sighed.
It takes two hands to clap, but this stubborn guy couldn't even start a fight, win or lose—he was just hemming and hawing. The other idiot was staring at distant mountains like a fool.
A thousand bolts of heavenly lightning couldn't fix this.
'Thought we might score some easy honey... Fine. Watching this mess is torture. I'll take the guy and bail.'
Flying Tiger firmed his resolve, stepped forward, and pulled Sama Gul-gi back.
As Sama Gul-gi protested, Flying Tiger didn't even look at him. "Brother Sama already got his cut—fall back already?" Then he addressed Yang Ji.
"Hey, Wanderer. You act like you know all the jianghu codes, so let me ask one thing."
Flying Tiger spat into the stream under the bridge, muddying the water, then sauntered forward cockily.
Anyone could see it was provocation.
Yang Ji scowled arrogantly and jerked his chin. Speak if you have something to say.
"Who's got the mouth and who's got the beak?"
"...?"
"Where's mine! Why only give to our Brother Sama? Think I'm a pushover? Huh? You cheap bastard."
"Cheap bastard" was slang for looking down on fools.
In other words, Flying Tiger was mocking: You're an idiot for throwing money around. Think we'll leave just 'cause you paid?
Beyond the words, his swaggering attitude grated so much that even if Yang Ji handed over everything he had, Flying Tiger wouldn't forgive him now.
"Hmph! You reject wine and choose poison?"
Yang Ji narrowed his eyes as he spoke, his hand slowly gripping his sword hilt, toes pointed at Flying Tiger.
Flying Tiger grinned and gripped his Overgold Sword too.
Stopping a fight is hard; starting one? Piece of cake!
Thus, the two faced off from opposite ends of the Tiger Skin Bridge, advancing toward the center.
Step. Step.
The Tiger Skin Bridge was less than four zhang (twelve meters) long.
The valley itself wound like folded screens in a scenic wonder, but its width wasn't impressive. The stream below wasn't deep either—ragged, but the deepest reached an adult's height, the shallows barely to the knee.
Shing. Roll~
As Yang Ji advanced and drew his sword, a heavy sound was followed by a clear jade-bead-on-tray chime.
The sound from that demonic sword Ilgwang had mentioned.
At that moment, Flying Tiger noted Yang Ji's unique sword grip.
'Stirs the mind to madness, huh? Sound-based? Let's see.'
Flying Tiger leaped in lightly, drawing his Overgold Sword with a crisp ring.
He spun and slashed down, infusing the strike with the essence of a heavy sword.
Whoosh—
Yang Ji leaped to counter with his own slash but flinched in surprise.
Flying Tiger's light stroke had suddenly dropped heavy without warning.
The abrupt shift in Flying Tiger's sudden attack wasn't impossible to mimic by forcibly channeling internal energy.
But the backlash was severe.
Upset stomach, twisted qi and blood, often leading to internal injuries. And the efficiency plummeted compared to the energy spent.
It was the price of skipping preparatory motions that naturally built power.
Thus, such methods were rarely used outside desperate, do-or-die moments.
That was common sense in the jianghu.
Yang Ji's surprise was brief; he gripped his sword two-handed to block.
Clang~
Yang Ji's sword shuddered under the Overgold Sword's heavy blow.
Flying Tiger pressed the downward slash, threatening to cleave through Yang Ji's guard.
Scraaape—
Metal screeched and sparks flew from the grinding blades.
Flying Tiger stuck his Overgold Sword to Yang Ji's and bullied forward aggressively.
Yang Ji retreated steadily, twisting his blade desperately to shake off the clinging sword.
Clink. Clack.
Yang Ji's efforts succeeded in a startling way. As the blades scraped and ground, a eerie bead sound burst from his wildly vibrating sword.
Flying Tiger had meant to pin the sword and neutralize it, but now he'd irritated it instead.
Kiririii~ Ring~
The sound pierced Flying Tiger's eardrums, shaking his brain.
...!
This time, Flying Tiger recoiled in shock, staggering back.
The ringing lingered in his mind, his head buzzing uncontrollably!
Even as his head throbbed and his hairs stood on end, Flying Tiger glanced at Yang Ji.
Small mercy:
While recoiling and withdrawing, Flying Tiger had shoved hard, forcing Yang Ji back and preventing pursuit.
Flying Tiger's bloodshot eyes trembled as he roared.
"Hah!"
Crackle.
Lightning qi surged through his body with the shout, severing the foul energy.
His mind cleared. He spat blood-mixed saliva and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, glaring at Yang Ji pushed back to the bridge's entrance.
He'd dived in first and nearly paid dearly.
Flying Tiger's enraged eyes flickered with lingering electric embers, blue and sizzling like dying coals. A cold smile played on his lips.
'Freakish thing, huh? This guy's insane.'