Chapter 150
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 150
Chapter Title: Chapter 41. Man-Slaying (3)
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An ancient sage once said that if you encounter the Way in the morning, you could die content that very evening.
Was that really true?
Flying Tiger suddenly wondered as he faced the Shandong Old Man.
The old man looked utterly exhausted.
His appearance had never been much to look at to begin with, but now, clad in blood-soaked rags, he was a pitiful sight.
His left arm hung limp, and his right hand gripped the sword awkwardly, as if forced. (*The sword he held was one Flying Tiger had grabbed from a dead man and handed to him.) His legs trembled faintly, like those of someone in the throes of a chill.
Yet his expression was remarkably serene.
'Yeah. Isn't that enough? It might not be a life worth living, but it's a fine way to go.'
Flying Tiger asked himself that question and answered it, then took a step forward. As he did, he warned the old man.
"Old timer, let's make this clear. If you can't block it, you're dead!"
The Shandong Old Man crushed the hilt in his grip and snorted. He was in agony, but he refused to show any weakness.
"Hmph, stating the obvious. But tell me this—what if this old man blocks your pathetic little trick?"
"We'll see when it happens. Honestly, looking at you, I doubt it."
"Heh heh heh, always with that mouth of yours. Come on, then."
And so they both laughed.
But before their smiles could fade, Flying Tiger leaped in and slashed diagonally.
It was a strike fierce enough to sever a head in one blow.
Shwick—
"Has he attained enlightenment? Emotion... yes, that's always been the problem."
Jin Gayong muttered as he watched the two from the side.
But it was unclear if his words were aimed at Flying Tiger or himself. His emotions had gotten involved, blending his own situation into the mix.
Thus, two fundamentally different natures began to form a shared empathy—the beginning of assimilation.
The old man swept his sword horizontally, knocking Flying Tiger's blade aside. He'd worried he couldn't even lift his arm, but fortunately, it obeyed his will.
Crash!
Flying Tiger's sword shattered into pieces that scattered everywhere.
In that instant, a blue glint flashed in Flying Tiger's eyes.
He pulled back his stance, the old man drew his sword to follow, and in that moment, he pressed an acupoint on his extended left hand.
Then the flying shards began to whirl like a vortex.
It was the Shattering Whirl.
And at its center stood the old man.
'Thirty-seven pieces? This bastard ground his sword up good. Did he plan to use it on me back then, even using practice as an excuse? Heh heh heh, perfect either way!'
Previously, the Shandong Old Man had deflected three of the sixteen shards Flying Tiger had unleashed with the Shattering Whirl, and missed two entirely. Now, it was more than double that.
So what could be better?
Bloodshot veins bulged in the old man's eyes.
He focused every ounce of his spirit on the shards flying from all directions. Miscellaneous thoughts of life and death vanished; he forgot where he was, even who he was.
All that remained was his sword—and the obsession to perfect that single strike.
He had entered a state of total immersion in an instant.
And so a miracle occurred.
The old man, whom they'd doubted could even swing once properly, slashed like a man possessed.
Boom boom boom—kaboom!
Dozens of simultaneous explosions sent shockwaves rippling outward.
The warehouse district behind the Jeongga Hall's inner courtyard was half leveled, kicking up clouds of dust. A gray haze billowed up to a radius of four zhang from the epicenter.
It was a collaborative masterpiece of Flying Tiger's Shattering Whirl and the old man's "make-anything-explode" single strike—an unexpected fluke neither combatant had foreseen.
Even Jin Gayong, watching, tensed in surprise for a moment, wondering if the pair had plotted something.
But...
Through the dispersing gray clouds, one man lay soaked in blood. Another approached him, shoulders slumped and gait heavy with bitterness.
Thus, Jin Gayong realized he'd misunderstood.
"Kekeke, did you see that?"
"Well done, old timer. Impressive. Guess 'opening one's eyes' is exactly for times like this."
"How many was it?"
"Let me see... thirty-four or so?"
"Missed three? Same as last time... same spots again?"
The old man's voice trailed off. It was less a question to Flying Tiger and more a murmur to himself. His clouded eyes stared off into some distant place Flying Tiger couldn't reach.
But Flying Tiger pretended not to notice and replied cheerfully in a loud voice.
"Probably. So here's my take—if you patch those three flaws, your swordsmanship might just be perfe... Hey, you listening?"
"......"
"What the—this old coot falls asleep mid-conversation?"
"...Live."
"Huh? What'd you say?"
Flying Tiger grumbled irritably, "If you're gonna say something, spit it out right." He crouched beside the old man and began examining him closely.
In truth, it had been twenty-four pieces.
Of the thirty-seven fragments, he'd detonated twenty-four perfectly. Five had embedded in his body. Of the rest, some he'd deflected sloppily, others had missed entirely.
Flying Tiger had seen the whole process but lied to the old man. No need for him to verify in his state—it was just to boost his spirits.
Whether twenty-something or thirty-something, it was equally regrettable—and equally astounding.
The problem was the five pieces lodged in the old man's body.
But...
He'd seemed dead, but he was alive.
For now, at least.
Upon inspection, Flying Tiger was relieved: the embedded shards and their depth weren't fatal. Luck had played a part, no doubt. But really, the old man had instinctively eliminated the most dangerous ones while handling the majority.
Examining the wounds, the damage from Jin Gayong's beating was surprisingly light. The worst was the self-inflicted shoulder gash from his wild swings.
'Hmm, passed out from blood loss, but treat this right and he might pull through.'
Flying Tiger wasn't a physician. But as shown when he'd treated Go Dan-oh, he was knowledgeable about violence-induced injuries and had a knack for treatment.
So he swiftly administered first aid. As he worked, he pondered next steps.
He'd already mapped out scenarios; this was just reviewing for execution.
Honestly, from Flying Tiger's position, the situation wasn't ideal. It hadn't been part of the original plan.
"But what can you do? If fate wills it... the survivor survives."
Pat, pat.
Flying Tiger finished up, dusted his hands, and stood. A sudden thought made him chuckle. The old man wouldn't know, but he recalled their banter just before unleashing the Shattering Whirl.
"What if you block my Shattering Whirl? You didn't die, so I'll acknowledge it. Fine, since it's come to this, wait and see. We'll watch the outcome together."
He muttered that, glancing at Jin Gayong watching him.
Flying Tiger stepped forward to face Jin Gayong.
He set the sheathed sword with the Overgold Pattern aside and promptly dropped to his knees.
Jin Gayong said with a complicated expression,
"He's still alive?"
"For now. He survived my hands somehow, so it's in the squad leader's now."
"My hands? Then why are you kneeling before me?"
"Heaven's fortune!"
"Heaven's fortune?"
"Yes. It seems he's touched by it. He survived me, and that moved my heart. So, though it's a long shot, I'm trying to kneel and sway the squad leader's resolve."
"Impossible!"
Jin Gayong was firm.
It was the expected response, so Flying Tiger pulled out his prepared words.
"Is that so? Then why bother talking to me first instead of rushing over to chop the old timer to bits?"
"Didn't you ask to speak first?"
"True. Let me rephrase. You finally captured a mortal enemy—why honor my unrelated request?"
"That's because..."
"Consideration for me, right? I'm your subordinate, comrade, ally, after all. Or maybe repayment for services. The intel I passed via human courier helped Ye Mountain's Zhao Family Manor, didn't it? So, for whatever reason, you're showing some mercy."
"You know well. And?"
Jin Gayong asked coldly.
Yet inwardly, he was slightly rattled. Was this punk seriously throwing a tantrum? ...For real?
"Since you're at it, show a bit more. I like the old timer. Wasn't planning to, but I grew fond. Look—sure, he plotted schemes, but he hasn't harmed the Zhao Family Manor yet, has he? Well, thanks to you fighting well, but still. So, he's guilty and deserves punishment, but what if it's lighter than execution?"
'Good lord, he means it. What the hell?'
Jin Gayong stared in stunned disbelief. No matter how he looked, Flying Tiger seemed sincere.
Jin Gayong felt uneasy.
Right now, Jin Gayong wanted to grab Flying Tiger and interrogate him on a dozen things, old man be damned.
His actions were so suspicious—even the enemy (the old man) didn't seem to doubt him.
He planned to sort it out systematically. Whether interrogation or investigation would depend on the situation.
But Flying Tiger bringing up this irrelevant plea... Did he really think it'd work?
That cunning bastard?
Jin Gayong had trusted Flying Tiger despite his wariness. He hadn't hated his antics, even felt some goodwill.
He'd built a fence around his heart, permitting things beyond it.
And honestly, Flying Tiger's plea didn't look bad. He couldn't grant it due to his position, but it seemed human.
Yet that sparked caution. This emotional appeal clashed with the sharp, decisive Flying Tiger he'd known.
Thus, Jin Gayong's thoughts multiplied, breeding confusion.
His usually calm, still mind rippled.
A chink appeared in his unyielding resolve—a wave's crest formed.
The prerequisite for breaking through was met.