Heavenly Thunder... Martial God? (5)
“Well now. I thought you were here to haggle, but looks like you're just short on cash, huh? Kekeke, guess there's nothing to be done about it.”
Even his laughter grated on the nerves. The thin, wickedly curved sword in his hand was even worse. People always carried weapons that matched their shitty eyes, didn't they?
Thwack!
The moment Jin Yeo-rip realized the negotiations had failed, he kicked the table from his seated position and slid backward. In situations like this, striking first was the way to go.
“How crude.”
Shwick!
The table he'd hoped would buy him even a second to stall split clean in half. Tak Sobak leaped high into the air and swung his sword down.
Shuuuaak!
Jin Yeo-rip rolled sideways to dodge the chilling sound of the blade slicing through the air. Lazy Donkey Roll. It was an evasion technique named after a lazy donkey tumbling on the ground—something martial artists considered deeply shameful. He recalled Im Pilsaeng sulking all day after instinctively rolling on the ground to dodge his attack once.
But was pride the issue right now? He was about to get his throat slit by this squinting bastard!
“Kekeke, you really wanna live that bad?”
Damn right he did. It was his top priority in this life, after all...
“Let's see you dodge this!”
Suddenly, the blade split into two—no, four—arcs hurtling toward him. Feints mixed with a real strike hidden inside. Damn this guy—he was like some twisted old hag toying with a mouse for fun. It pissed him off.
“Kekeke, this has been fun, but time to wrap it up! Can't drag this out forever, or even I'll be in danger!”
Shiiiiaaak!
Tak Sobak's attack speed exploded exponentially. Jin Yeo-rip thought he'd dodged, but the blade tip whipped around mid-swing, stabbing straight for his throat.
No other choice. He gritted his teeth.
In that do-or-die moment, Jin Yeo-rip didn't dodge—instead, he lunged toward the blade. Then, just as it was about to connect, he dropped low.
Skreeek!
The strap grazed by the blade snapped, and his hair came undone.
“...!?”
Tak Sobak's eyes went wide. Only then did he realize it—Jin Yeo-rip had closed the distance, burrowing deep into his guard.
But his planted foot was already committed. And with Jin Yeo-rip's full weight behind it...
Thud!
“Kuh!”
Catching the assassin off guard, Jin Yeo-rip slammed into him, smashing the back of Tak Sobak's head against the floor as they both went down.
Bet you didn't see that coming, huh? He knew the gap in skill from the start. No way he could win a straight fight. But Im Pilsaeng had told him: in a fight for your life, higher realm doesn't always mean victory. Deep understanding and insight into techniques could let you beat a stronger foe.
So he'd prepared. A move no one in this world would ever think of. A technique that would baffle a martial arts purist like you. Something a prideful guy who scorns the Lazy Donkey Roll could never do.
A tackle...
Straddling Tak Sobak's gut, Jin Yeo-rip grinned coldly. Panic flickered in the assassin's eyes. Serves you right for getting cocky. Keep messing with a rat like me, and you'll get bit. Skill gap? Useless in this position.
Take this—Jin Yeo-rip's signature move, Ice Pounding! You piece-of-shit hired killer!
Eight Extremities, Bong Mountain Strike! Barrage!
Paak! Pabapapak!
“Kyaak!”
Tak Sobak writhed under the onslaught of fists, but Jin Yeo-rip clamped down with his legs, locking him in place. Bong Mountain Strike maximized raw power in every punch. Each one cracked bone like thunder!
Die! Pabababapak!
Unable to think straight under the relentless barrage, Tak Sobak instinctively crossed his arms to shield his face.
Huh? Blocking? Fine—those are your arms anyway! Jin Yeo-rip gnashed his teeth and hammered away. Die! Die! Die!
But people can't hold their breath forever. Especially not with this much thrashing around.
“Huuu...”
The held breath burst out, and in that split-second hesitation, Tak Sobak twisted with all his might. Jin Yeo-rip's legs loosened, and the assassin slipped free.
Damn it, he got away. But no letting him off easy!
Thwack!
Jin Yeo-rip poured everything into a final kick, slamming it home.
Thudaaak!
“Kuhk!”
The assassin's mocking kekeke turned to a grunt of pain. The kick sent him flying across the room into the opposite wall.
Crash!
The flimsy wall crumbled under the impact, debris raining down on Tak Sobak.
“Huff, huff, huff.”
Jin Yeo-rip panted raggedly, glaring at him.
“Grooo...”
“...?”
Tak Sobak rose from the rubble. His face was a mangled mess from the punches.
“Y-You little shit!”
Getting punked after underestimating him must've stung bad—the laughter was gone from his voice, replaced by crude banmal. And those squinting eyes... they were actually open now, weren't they? Hard to tell, but yeah. The so-called awakening of the slit-eyes. This was the real fight starting.
“I'll kill you. With everything I've got.”
“Bullshit.”
No point in polite replies to nonsense like that. Kill him? What fresh crap was that? The guy's been trying since the start. If getting caught off guard embarrassed him, just admit it.
But you think you're the only one who can awaken? Jin Yeo-rip chuckled and scanned the inn. Something useful...
“That'll do.”
In his hand was a long wooden rolling pin.
A bit thicker and shorter than a spear, but sturdy enough to bash a rotten bastard like this.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Weapon.”
Jin Yeo-rip answered curtly, pointing it at Tak Sobak.
“What?”
The guy looked dumbfounded. Furious, yet wearing a ridiculous expression.
“You're insane. One lucky ambush hit, and now you think you can take me with a noodle-rolling pin?”
“Why not?”
“...”
“Watch out. That was just a greeting. Now it gets real. I'm way different with something in hand than empty.”
“What does that—”
“Means you might get rolled out flat like dough. Real thin.”
Tak Sobak gaped, but Jin Yeo-rip gripped the rolling pin's end and assumed stance.
“My turn this time. Get ready.”
“What the... Hah!”
Tak Sobak's furrowed brow shot open in shock. No big change, but his face said it all. Jin Yeo-rip stepped forward, closing over a zhang in one stride.
Pure Step, Extreme.
“Told you it's different!”
Whoooosh!
The rolling pin cleaved the air powerfully as he closed in. Tak Sobak frantically raised his sword to block.
Claaaang!
The pin didn't shatter—instead, the blade bent from the impact, slamming full-force into Tak Sobak's body.
“Kuhuk!”
A long, thin blade? No way it could block a rolling pin infused with the Twelve Flows.
“Hah!”
Shoving Tak Sobak back with the first blow, Jin Yeo-rip pressed the assault. The Eight Extremities defined eight spear methods: Swing , Chop, Thrust, Flip, Twist, Seize, Strike, Drag. Combining them for attack and defense was the terror of Eight Extremities. No fixed forms from the start.
Swing and strike? Swing-Strike. Twist and thrust? Twist-Thrust. High freedom of movement, power varying wildly by instant combos. And his version was even stronger. Daily full-contact spars with Shandong's top swordsman Gwiyeong Im Pilsaeng. Plus Twelve Flows letting each move branch into at least twelve variations.
Infinite possibilities. And his genius to deploy them perfectly... Nothing lacking!
Crack! Pabak!
Tak Sobak couldn't keep up. The ceaseless storm of attacks felt like a gale or downpour—impossible to predict. He focused purely on defense, baffled by this unforeseen martial art.
What the hell is this? How could a merchant's son wield such skill? He'd spent half the bounty hiring Dokbi Yeo Jeokgwang and Tanggu to take out Gwiyeong. Gu Jungdo had thrown a minor wrench, but no big deal—he'd planned to behead Jin Yeo-rip and clean up the rest.
But...
Thwack!
“Kuhk!”
A blocked pin still smashed his ribs. Tak Sobak crashed into the wall again, face twisted in rage as he glared. His side throbbed. Even protected by inner energy, ribs had cracked.
“You really piss me off in every way. Enough to make me go all out.”
“Huff, huff... Still got plenty more. Eat 'em all, you fucker.”
Jin Yeo-rip spat curses amid his gasps, matching Tak Sobak's venom. But inside? This squinting prick was tough as nails. Giving it everything, and the guy kept getting back up. Not made of iron or anything.
“Fine, I admit it. You're strong enough to force my full power. But that won't change the outcome. I'll crush you with everything!”
Jin Yeo-rip sneered at the furious shout. Full power again? What a poser.
But that thought flipped in an instant.
Tak Sobak's full power. Heat haze shimmered around him. A bluish aura coated his thin, long sword. Even from afar, the killing intent raised goosebumps, body trembling faintly.
Shit. This was bad. Back-to-back awakenings? No giving up, though—that meant instant death.
Fully enraged, Tak Sobak charged. Jin Yeo-rip met him with everything he had. Their skills clashed evenly at first—sword slicing, pin smashing. One side bled from cuts staining his body; the other ached from blunt impacts cracking bones.
For Jin Yeo-rip's training time and age, holding his own was incredible. But the gap widened. Slashed vs. struck. Steel sword vs. wooden pin. Inner energy reserves.
At seventeen, manifesting faint Hyeonggi was astonishing, but no match for Tak Sobak at the peak of Tanggi.
Now Jin Yeo-rip got it. Im Pilsaeng, Hwangbo Mungang... they'd all been holding back. No way they'd lose to a guy like this.
Shlaaack!
“Kuh!”
A blade slipped through, slicing his chest. Blood sprayed into the air, soaking his front.
In his past life, he'd have panicked and pissed himself. But now? Battle lust surged hotter than ever.
Reverse Heaven Method, Twelve Flows. The reverse circulation qi coursing through his body spurred him on. Kill him.
Under the relentless impulse, madness filled his eyes. War spirit boiled fiercer, like roaring flames. The Twelve Flows blazed, burning his body to draw out impossible power.
Damn it. If only he'd grasped Tanggi, he wouldn't be pushed this hard.
Jin Yeo-rip unleashed barrages, inflicting pain. Crack! Bone snapped in the blocking arm; legs were already numb.
But as Tak Sobak leaped high and swung...
“Hah!”
A blue crescent blade shot out. Booma-crack!
The pin shattered blocking it. Jin Yeo-rip lost balance and crumpled.
“You're done!”
Wild overhead slashes birthed overlapping crescent sword qi, forming a massive net crashing down.
Ah, fuck... Tanggi. Should've mastered that.