Shandong's Greatest Martial Family (2)
Around fifteen years old. He had that air of someone who looked both dressed up and casual at the same time, but somehow exuded an aura of nobility. Definitely a rich kid from a good family.
The startled thugs exchanged tense glances and whispered among themselves.
"H-Hwangbo family?"
"First time seeing him."
"First time?"
"Yeah, and his clothes aren't their colors either."
Come to think of it, they weren't the Hwangbo family's signature garb. For some reason, those guys were obsessed with yellow—way too much. What did the surname Hwangbo even have to do with yellow?
"Not Hwangbo, then..."
"Dunno. Most kids from prominent families around Je-nam, I know their faces. Never seen this one."
That was life in the back alleys. They lorded over the poor and destitute like kings, but groveled before the wealthy, always watching their backs. Information had to flow fast. One wrong move—picking a fight with someone prominent in Je-nam or their retainers—and you'd lose your head.
But if even Meoksoe, who had a knack for remembering faces, didn't know him?
"Probably just a drifter."
Son of a merchant caravan or escort agent. Those types were just passing wind; even if a scuffle broke out, it wouldn't matter much. Just lay low until they left Je-nam.
And this was a dim back alley, no less. Not even the patrols came through here. A scream or some brawling? No one would bat an eye.
Plus, their opponent was just one green boy. Yi Chil-seong's expression shifted instantly as he sized up the situation. One eyebrow cocked high, the other low, head tilted sideways, legs spread wide in a perfect rogue's stance.
"What?"
"Huh?"
Jin Yeo-rip frowned at the sudden shift in atmosphere.
"What's your problem, stepping in?"
"Uh, well..."
Yi Chil-seong faltered for a moment. He'd come on too strong.
"Ahem!"
Clearing his throat to steady himself, Jin Yeo-rip addressed him.
"You lot! What kind of bastards are you, robbing a poor old man in broad daylight? Thugs?"
"What? Thug... what the hell's that mean, you little shit?"
Yi Chil-seong glared, not getting it, so Jin Yeo-rip sighed.
"Hah, yeah, thugs it is. Anyway, kids, I'm not the type to throw punches just 'cause I'm pissed, y'know? So be good—hand back the money, apologize to the old man."
"What?"
"Oh, and throw in some medical fees too. Then he won't get hurt."
Yi Chil-seong and his gang stared at each other, then burst into laughter.
"Kuhahaha! This kid's a riot."
"..."
"Some young master's playing hero here. Keep talking like that, and we'll all be kissing your feet soon, right?"
Shaking his head, Yi Chil-seong eyed him with gleaming malice.
"Kid, just scram. Unless you wanna see something ugly. I'd love to strip you bare and take everything you've got, but I'll let you off today."
Pros were different. Threats sounded real when they came from experience.
Damn, I should've gone that route.
Jin Yeo-rip grimaced, regretting his amateurish approach. He'd never threatened anyone crudely before.
"Hah, guess you ain't leaving easy. Fine, nothing for it."
Crack!
Interlocking his fingers with a pop, Jin Yeo-rip rolled his neck side to side.
This wasn't like back at Cheongeumbang. He'd trained hard since then.
"Yeah, stick around. I was thinking I needed to test my skills anyway."
"Heh, full of shit."
Snickering at the provocation, Yi Chil-seong muttered lowly to Meoksoe beside him.
"Meoksoe."
"Yeah, boss."
"Looks like the milquetoast young master's feeling stiff. Give him a massage."
"You got it."
Meoksoe grinned lecherously and stepped forward.
"Little punk, I'm Meoksoe the powerhouse of Je-nam's alleys. Shoulda run when I told ya."
Jin Yeo-rip smirked at the approaching bulk.
"Powerhouse my ass... You look like a half-boiled pig's head."
"What?"
He really did. Thick flab, neck lost somewhere in the folds.
The gang burst out laughing, and Meoksoe—clearly sensitive about his looks—flushed beet red.
See? I might not threaten like you lot, but I can land a personal hit.
"You fuckin' bastard! Thought I'd go easy!"
Snorting furiously, Meoksoe charged.
"Hoo."
One down.
Step.
Jin Yeo-rip advanced a pace, stirring his inner energy. Smooth and swift. Reciting the formula, heat surged from his dantian, flooding his limbs, permeating his toned muscles and amplifying his natural strength several times over.
Sizzle!
Heat bloomed from his stepping foot. Baji's Sak—the thrust. A lightning jab at one point, perfect for piercing tough defenses. It shredded shields, so pig blubber was no issue.
Infuse it with Gang. Gang Strike maximized power by exploding energy at the extreme. Big motion, big force—left openings, but only one foe rushed in.
"Die!"
Whoosh!
Meoksoe's massive fist whistled past as Jin Yeo-rip shifted weight to his back foot and leaned away, the blow grazing his nose by a hair.
"Hoo!"
Puffing his cheeks and exhaling, Jin Yeo-rip loaded his extended foot and surged forward, body weight crashing ahead.
Thud!
His pulled-back fist rocketed into Meoksoe's gut with a twist.
Spluuurt!
Boom!
Like a massive drumhead ripping apart, the sound echoed through the alley.
Whoosh!
Kwang!
Yi Chil-seong's gang stood frozen, blinking dumbly. Something had blurred past them at blinding speed. Turning, they saw Meoksoe slammed into the wall beside the old man, crashing through it and slumping limp.
"Oops!"
Jin Yeo-rip, fist still extended, panicked dramatically.
"You okay?"
"..."
Not to Meoksoe. The old man blinked vacantly, then spotted the thug and nodded.
"Phew, close call. Almost clipped you there."
Jin Yeo-rip sighed in relief.
"Damn, got too hyped and overdid it. Not even full power."
He eyed his fist. Twelve Flows and Baji handled smoother now. Satisfying.
"You lot get the light version."
Grinning, Jin Yeo-rip beckoned.
"Bet you're stiff too? C'mon, lemme work those knots. Shoulda run when I said. Now I'll grind you into mince."
He learned and adapted fast. Spouting a totally new level of threat, he advanced.
Yi Chil-seong was stupefied. What just happened? About a zhang away. One punch, and their toughest guy flew that far, smashed the wall, and passed out?
Then it hit him. This kid wasn't from Je-nam. Just a passing breeze.
But that breeze... was a typhoon from the murim world?
Oh, shit.
"W-Wait!"
"...?"
Yi Chil-seong yelled desperately, halting Jin Yeo-rip, and held out his pouch.
"Here."
"...What're you doing?"
"Sorry, bro, didn't recognize ya. Forgive us once? Hey, idiots! Boss did the work—empty your pouches! Hurry!"
His gang flinched and fumbled out their money pouches.
What a guy. Attitude flip that quick.
But Jin Yeo-rip wasn't forgiving. Who hasn't fantasized about schooling bullies tormenting the innocent? Always just fantasy—till now, with power to spare. Enough to flatten every thug in the land.
And.
"Kids. Seems you've misunderstood. I'm rich."
"..."
"Don't need your cash."
Crack.
With a wicked grin, Jin Yeo-rip cracked his knuckles and closed in—
"Huh?"
A frantic rustle echoed in his ear. Then, yellow-clad figures poured in from the alley's depths.
"Heard something here... Huh?"
The leader scanned around. Huge build, but about Jin Yeo-rip's age.
"What the hell?"
He scowled deeply.
"H-Hwangbo family?!"
Yi Chil-seong's yelp clued Jin Yeo-rip in. But the Hwangbo youth's aura was no joke. Shattered wall, burly thug below, old man with his privates exposed.
"You crazy bastards assaulting an old man in broad day— you fucks!"
"...?"
Hey, man! What're you imagining?
Ridiculous misunderstanding.
Oh well. Shame, though. Wanted to test his growth on these weaklings. Jin Yeo-rip sighed wistfully.
What could he do? Officials kept Je-nam's peace, but local powerhouse Hwangbo backed them up. No point meddling now.
"Tch, oh well."
Grinning at Yi Chil-seong:
"You're in deep shit now. Shoulda run when I said."
Scoffing at the gang, he stepped toward the Hwangbo group to explain—
Grab!
"Huh?"
Yi Chil-seong, for reasons unknown, shoved the pouch into Jin Yeo-rip's hand.
What the—?
Staring baffled, Jin Yeo-rip heard him bellow:
"Boss!"
"Huh?"
"Hwangbo scum! You always said you'd make soup outta those yellow-bellied bastards. Teach 'em a lesson now!"
"What?!"
Flabbergasted. What the hell was this guy saying?
"Hey, you—?"
"We leave it to you, boss!"
Too stunned to react fast, Jin Yeo-rip watched Yi Chil-seong bolt behind him, gang in tow.
"Hey! You bastard, what're you—!"
Couldn't finish.
"You the leader?"
"...Huh?"
A chill-inducing aura hit, the Hwangbo youth glaring murderously. As if he were the villain.
"Uh, hold on. Yeah, easy to misunderstand. But hear me out first?"
Suddenly the boss, Jin Yeo-rip pleaded hastily.
"No talk! No mercy!"
Bam!
Futile. Mundapmuyong—no questions asked. A murim byword for beating first, talking never.
"Wait!"
Tried to save the old man, now framed like a rapist.
No time to explain. The Hwangbo youth closed faster than any thug, fist wrapped in qi.
"Son of a—!"
Irritated, Jin Yeo-rip instinctively countered with his own punch.
...Baji, Bongsanta.