Chapter 324
Chapter 324
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 324
Chapter Title: Before the Title (1)
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Zhengzhou, the capital of Henan Province.
The city, not far from Mount Song, had managed to maintain relative stability even as the world plunged into chaos.
Thanks to the Shaolin Temple—renowned as the North Star of the martial world—they prioritized the welfare of the common people even in tough times. Their efforts influenced the surrounding sects, who couldn't ignore them.
Of course, the effect weakened sharply with distance from Shaolin. Beyond Henan, in other provinces, plenty of sects bearing the name of Shaolin lay affiliates ran rampant unchecked...
But Zhengzhou, adjacent to Mount Song and the provincial capital, received special attention from Shaolin, so there were no such worries there.
And near the outskirts leading into Zhengzhou, where the city's silhouette faintly appeared in the distance—
"Urgh! We made it this far, at least."
A disheveled man with wild, tangled hair roughly scratched his scruffy bandit beard and furrowed his brow.
"Feels like I got played by someone's scheme. Looking back now, maybe I was too hasty."
He paused, arms crossed, pondering for a moment before shaking his head and resuming his steps.
He'd come all this way—what was the point of turning back now?
Besides, he knew himself well.
Having come here and confirmed the truth firsthand, even if he could turn back time, he'd make the same choice.
'Sure, they say he's got some skill.'
His eyes blazed fiercely through the strands of hair covering his face.
Raw anger burned within them.
Like a beast whose territory had been invaded, he growled low without hiding his emotions.
"Daring to impersonate me? ...No, from what he's done, it doesn't seem like mere impersonation was the goal."
Crack—
A pebble underfoot crumbled to dust as he advanced slowly.
The aura naturally emanating from his body crushed the surrounding bushes flat against the ground.
"Has to be a challenge to fight. Provoking me to draw me out personally? Means he's that confident, huh?"
A feral grin twisted his muttering face.
He was the type to leap out of bed at the mere whiff of a fight.
"Heh, fine. Let's see your face, then."
His name was Mok In-gwang.
To the world, he was known by the moniker "Mad Demon."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Mad Demon—pure mad devil.
It was a nickname that perfectly captured Mok In-gwang's rebellious nature.
If something rubbed him the wrong way, he charged in like a rabid dog, tearing into it without a second thought.
He didn't care about methods or means—in fact, he'd thrown his life away like a rag more than once just to screw over his foes.
His insane temperament, barreling into righteous and evil sects alike regardless of size, naturally meant danger and death shadowed him constantly.
If his skills had been even a bit lacking, he'd have been forgotten as just another fool...
'But I'm still alive and kicking.'
He'd overcome every crisis spectacularly, using them as fuel for growth until he stood tall as one of the martial world's elite.
That's when his lowly "Mad Dog" moniker evolved into "Mad Demon."
In this chaotic world, living exactly as he pleased without bending to circumstances—what a feat!
And surviving unscathed despite it all? That alone proved his worth.
'But...'
That's why the weight of his nickname was never light to Mok In-gwang.
It was the trajectory of his life, a badge proving his brutal struggles, and proof of who he'd become.
"Daring to touch that?"
Two days.
That's how long it took after arriving in Zhengzhou to pinpoint the culprit's location.
Scree—
His body sliced through the wind, piercing space itself.
Naturally, he hadn't gathered the intel pounding the pavement himself.
Where people gathered, shady dealers lurked—and among them, info brokers.
All he'd done was track them down and politely, oh so gently, request their cooperation.
'Didn't expect them to be this competent.'
The info network had delivered the target's history and estimated position in detail, and quickly at that.
Even if the guy was a recent person of interest, he hadn't anticipated such speed.
'Lucky break.'
Mok In-gwang smirked.
Over twenty years since the Imperial Palace Bloodbath.
After the Beggars' Sect crumbled, usable info groups among the mushrooming networks required serious luck.
Things falling into place from the start? No complaints there.
'Would've been easier if the Beggars' Sect were still around.'
But that was unavoidable.
Begging needed the well-off to give.
In this brutal world where everyone scraped by, a gang of ordinary beggars couldn't function.
Lower branches splintered off, mid-tier martial artists forming their own groups—the Beggars' Sect name long a hollow shell.
'Details don't matter. If not here, I'll go back, squeeze 'em harder... persuade properly.'
Arriving at a wild mountain pass leading to Zhengzhou, his eyes gleamed.
Finally.
The pretender's lair.
As he climbed to a certain point,
By sheer luck for the info brokers, they wouldn't dread his return.
"Huh? Who're you?"
At the entrance to the bandit stronghold he'd just reached.
Amid the trashed surroundings—like it'd already been ransacked—one figure lounged carefree.
'...That's the bastard.'
He knew at a glance.
This was the one who'd lured him here personally.
"Hm? From your getup, another bandit? Wow, Green Forest lives up to the name! Bandit levels are skyrocketing these days? Mountaintop crews won't stand a chance! Kahahaha!"
No surprise at the intruder—just casual predator vibes, utterly relaxed.
No tension whatsoever.
And it wasn't just his attitude that felt off.
'From beyond the border?'
To Mok In-gwang, raised in the Central Plains, the outfit screamed alien—primitive tribesman weird.
He grimaced instinctively.
But shaking it off, reminded of his purpose, he stepped forward slowly.
"Anyway, not important now."
"Yeah, yeah, here for revenge on your dead underlings, right?"
"These local trash? Don't care. I came for you specifically."
"Huh?"
Head tilted innocently, clueless—Mok In-gwang bristled, slowly building his aura as he growled.
"Mad Demon."
"Wha—"
"That's my moniker."
"...Oh?"
"You used someone else's without permission. Time to pay up."
"......"
Silence.
A split-second hush blanketed the area after the exchange.
"So—"
But briefly. Mok In-gwang snarled on.
"Let's see if you're worthy of it. Show me your stuff."
"Pfft!"
At his final words, the laid-back guy's—Harley's—mouth split wide to his ears.
Saw-like fangs gleamed unnaturally from the inhuman maw.
"Ah— aah—! Got it. Heh heh heh—my bad? Yeah, you came all this way, guest and all. Krgh."
Laughter leaked uncontrollably.
His aura shifted drastically.
Rumble—
Air quivered; atmosphere boiled.
Same appearance, but the mysterious energy spreading hazily made him seem utterly alien.
From sated predator lounging post-feast.
To inscrutable monster eyeing a new toy up close.
Chill—
Mok In-gwang, facing him directly, felt it sharpest.
As Harley's hidden violence surged, crisis instinct spiked—senses honed razor-sharp.
'Damn.'
Now it was undeniable.
The thick, heavy, bottomless true madness coiled in the foe.
'Ridiculous. A human carrying that? Hell, maintaining sanity for normal talk?'
Possible? Absurd—he almost laughed.
Yet instinct screamed.
This is real danger.
Charge now? Death.
Flee while you can—best survival odds.
But—
"Hrrgh..."
He ignored the warning utterly.
Just grinned back, mirroring his foe.
No thought of retreat.
'Since when did I care about that?'
Giggles escaped nonstop.
Always had been.
No matter the threat, he never backed down—charged headlong to win.
'And survived till now.'
Just another threat.
He'd prove himself, conquer as always.
If he truly failed...
Well, that's just how far it went.
Swish—
Tension peaked in that instant.
Both vanished simultaneously.
Boom—!
Massive shockwave erupted; stronghold debris and trees scattered.
At the epicenter, Harley thrust his fist; Mok In-gwang's hand, cloaked in energy, met his gaze.
Harley grinned casually.
"Hey, I like your moniker. Mind if I borrow it?"
"Kekeke, you bullshit so sincerely. Regular bandit, you. These trashed bandits your crew?"
"Kahaha! Sadly, they didn't meet standards! You're up to snuff—join me?"
"Pay your debt first!"
Boom—!
Energies clashed again; air roiled.
Full combat—now Mok In-gwang's vibe shifted from "Mad Demon" lite.
'Ho? What's that?'
Harley's eyes sparkled at the energy flow and odd changes.
Grinning wildly, eyes wide in fury.
Veins bulged grotesquely; hooked hands gripped tangible energy boosting claw techniques, maximizing power.
Like Harley's mutated flesh—ferocious form shredded air, shaking space.
Bang—!
Mok In-gwang's martial arts? Bizarre.
Fast, strong baseline—unorthodox, instinctive.
Harley was stronger, faster, tougher, sharper.
Yet attacks disrupted senses, creating false gaps to exploit endlessly.
'Got it. Mutation and illusion. First time seeing it used this well...'
Now he grasped the root.
Seeming strength-speed focused, attacks based there—but traps to fool his strengths.
True damage from insidious strikes slipped in between.
Cunning beyond the brutish facade.
'Useless without landing hits, though.'
No need for dragon scales—his body was diamond-hard already.
Such methods wouldn't hurt.
So no rush—drain his arsenal, then crush decisively...
Scree—
Suddenly.
Mok In-gwang's piercing hand met Harley's palm; opposite talon raked his arm.
Cloaked in eerie crimson energy.
Grind—!
Metal-gnawing screech.
Unlike before, Harley's eye twitched as the rake scarred his iron arm.
Deep gouges lingered despite regen—slowed by energy's regeneration hindrance.
Proof power far exceeded expectations—insanely efficient.
'This guy's solid. Shame...'
Harley eyed the onslaught more seriously.
Blade-like claw energy incoming, exploiting his brief distraction.
Thus, two Mad Demons clashed head-on over one title, minds set differently.