Chapter 18: The Fist King, Street Brawler
The Fist King, Street Brawler
Episode 18: The Fist King, Street Brawler
Dan Woo-sung walked home from Danhyang Pavilion, taking in the night streets for the first time in a while.
While Geumhwaru was an upscale pleasure house, Yanghwa Street—where Danhyang Pavilion was located—was far from refined. It was a cheaper, more crowded place.
Because of this, the people who frequented Yanghwa Street disliked those who played at Geumhwaru. It wasn't anything serious—just petty resentment over differences in wealth and attire.
A man vomiting in an alley, drinkers at outdoor tables, and already-staggering drunks brushed past Dan Woo-sung.
Originally, this was a street where one could only feel at ease if Sa Ma-geuk was among the Nightlife Scholars.
Without Sa Ma-geuk, fights broke out frequently here.
The Failed Scholars would fly into a rage if their friends got hit, and the heir of the escort bureau would throw tantrums and brawl whenever trouble arose. Occasionally, when fights escalated, the Silver River Merchant Group's escort team would rush in to break things up.
With every step Dan Woo-sung took, memories resurfaced.
One might wonder why the Grand Prince of the Silver River Merchant Group would get involved in street fights, but the truth was, the Grand Prince was no different from any other punk when it came to nighttime streets and drinking. In fact, he often instigated fights himself.
It wasn't for nothing that he was called trash. Petty fights among hotheaded youths rarely had any real justification.
So when Dan Woo-sung walked alone through the night streets with a money pouch slung over his shoulder, many recognized him as the Grand Prince of the Silver River Merchant Group.
'That bastard—long time no see.'
'Haven't seen him in ages. Why's he walking alone now?'
Those he had fought before, those he had beaten, and those who had clashed with him multiple times—they all watched him intently from taverns, street corners, and around the pleasure houses.
Memories often resurfaced only after seeing something, and for Dan Woo-sung, it was even more pronounced.
Walking through Yanghwa Street brought back memories of the messy, low-level brawls the Grand Prince had been involved in. He had taken plenty of beatings and dished out a few himself, but it seemed like he had vented a lot of his frustrations that way.
'Damn, he really was trash.'
Still, there were unspoken rules to these fights. They usually stopped at roughing someone up—rarely escalating to blades.
Even the backstreets had their own laws.
A man drinking near Yanghwa Tavern recognized the Grand Prince, abruptly stood up, and deliberately bumped shoulders with him.
This was the kind of punk who would bump shoulders countless times before picking a fight for no reason—a frontline troublemaker.
Dan Woo-sung, having no desire to avoid this nameless shoulder-bumper, met him head-on.
Thud.
The man staggered, clutching his shoulder.
"You blind, trash? You got a death wish today? Not gonna dodge?"
Dan Woo-sung stepped closer.
"How could I dodge? You crazy bastard."
The man stared at him, puzzled.
'Why's he reacting like this?'
Dan Woo-sung continued, "And how many times do you bump shoulders on the street? Is this a hobby of yours?"
"What?"
Before the man could respond, Dan Woo-sung swung his hand and slapped him across the face.
Crack!
The man hit the ground. His drinking companions at Yanghwa Tavern shot to their feet.
"What the hell's wrong with him?"
One of them raised a hand to stop them.
"Let's watch a bit longer."
Something about this felt oddly familiar—yet unfamiliar.
Sa Ma-geuk wasn't around, and the Grand Prince never acted like this without him.
One of the men scanned the area, looking for Sa Ma-geuk.
Meanwhile, Dan Woo-sung grabbed the fallen man's shoulder with his right hand.
"GAAAH—!"
As the man screamed, clutching his shoulder, Dan Woo-sung slapped him again. This time, he rolled several times across the ground before clutching his cheek, speechless. His face felt numb from the sting.
Dan Woo-sung crouched in front of him.
"I asked why you keep bumping shoulders. Is it fun?"
The terrified man didn't know how to respond. His head was already spinning from the first slap.
Dan Woo-sung grabbed his hair.
"Answer me."
Did this guy have no pride?
He glared at Dan Woo-sung with wide eyes. The fact that this was the Grand Prince of the Silver River Merchant Group only made him angrier.
The man was beyond reasoning. Killing him wasn't an option, so hitting him again was the only choice. A punch might kill him, so Dan Woo-sung flicked his middle finger against his thumb and delivered a sharp snap to the forehead.
Snap!
The man's head jerked back, and he rolled across the ground.
"GAH!"
Only then did Dan Woo-sung realize his anger had been simmering since earlier.
It was because of Soo Ran-yi. Not because she had done anything wrong, but because she had nowhere to go. That thought had been boiling inside him.
From the watching crowd, one man spoke up.
"A bit excessive for a shoulder bump, don't you think? You're acting weird today, Grand Prince."
Dan Woo-sung smirked at the man who dared to speak reasonably. Sitting on a chair was Sung Ki-chan—nicknamed Captain by the denizens of Yanghwa Street. His lackeys stood ready beside him.
Sung Ki-chan said, "Sa Ma-geuk isn't even here. Why are you acting up? Didn't you see me? Wandering around in training clothes—are you practicing martial arts or something?"
The crowd burst into laughter. The idea of the merchant prince practicing martial arts was too absurd not to laugh at.
The fact that the Grand Prince had changed was only known to the Silver River Merchant Group and his Nightlife Scholar friends—not to the lowlifes who haunted these streets.
Dan Woo-sung replied, "Yeah, I am."
"Hahahaha—!"
His dry tone made it sound like a forced response, which only amused the crowd more. Dan Woo-sung smiled along.
His mood had been gloomy because of Soo Ran-yi, but seeing these carefree street rats lifted his spirits again.
Dan Woo-sung was far from a saint.
In that sense, this was the perfect place for him. Someone eyed the thick leather money belt slung over his shoulder and asked,
"That money you're flaunting? Showing off your wealth? How tacky. Hand it over, and we'll let you walk away unharmed."
Dan Woo-sung answered, "Yeah, this is money."
"How much is there?"
"Dunno."
The atmosphere was strangely casual—like friends chatting. In moments like these, Dan Woo-sung fully embraced his trashy Grand Prince persona.
Curious himself, he peeked into one of the pouches on his belt and saw it stuffed with banknotes. Even he was surprised.
"Whoa. This alone is easily several thousand nyang."
"The Silver River Merchant Group really is something."
In truth, there was far more—but with multiple pouches, it was hard to estimate at a glance.
Sung Ki-chan tilted his head, looking increasingly suspicious.
"Where'd you get it?"
"Stole it."
"From who?"
Dan Woo-sung grinned.
"Why so nosy about someone else's money? Is it yours, you dumb bastards?"
The cheerful expressions around him froze like they'd been slapped.
Sung Ki-chan fired back,
"Ah, I get it. The Grand Prince finally decided to buy out Geumhwaru's top beauty with his fortune. Ye Seol-ha would make a fine Silver River madam. When's the wedding? You'd better invite us all—we want to see Ye Seol-ha's face too. She's always been too expensive for us."
"HAHAHAHA—!"
The counter was sharp enough that laughter erupted again. Even Dan Woo-sung found it funny and joined in.
He walked right up to Sung Ki-chan and stopped.
In the night streets, those called Captain were either overwhelmingly large, solidly built, or vicious like Cheol Myung-ho—but Sung Ki-chan was lean. He was just good at fighting.
Sung Ki-chan stood and met his gaze.
Dan Woo-sung said,
"Ki-chan, let's fight today. I'm feeling a bit down... I won't use Internal Energy."
Sung Ki-chan's mouth formed an O before he tilted his cheek forward.
"Ohhh—hit me once. Just once. Then we'll start."
He helpfully pointed at his cheek with a finger, as if urging Dan Woo-sung to strike. Meanwhile, the surrounding crowd closed in, ready to jump him the moment he threw a punch.
Dan Woo-sung smiled warmly.
What great friends he had. This was all thanks to the trashy Grand Prince's excellent connections.
"Sure. Just one hit."
He rolled his shoulders once and spoke in a flat tone.
"Here I come."
BAM!
Sung Ki-chan crashed through a table and chairs, rolling across the ground. Dishes shattered, alcohol spilled, and shouts erupted from all directions. Sung Ki-chan seemed to have been knocked out cold—he didn't get up.
"You fucking bastard!"
Two men rushed in first. Dan Woo-sung stepped forward, spreading his arms. Their necks caught on his forearms, and they spun one and a half times in the air before hitting the ground.
Men charged in from all sides—some wielding chairs, others hurling tables.
CRASH! THUD!
One man clutched his jaw as he soared into the air; another was sent rolling across the ground from a kick.
Dan Woo-sung grabbed the money belt slung over his shoulder and swung it backward at an approaching attacker.
WHAM! THUD!
"GAH!"
The man reeled from the thick leather pouch smashing into his face. Dan Woo-sung spun the belt diagonally, around his waist, and over his shoulder—gripping it like a pair of nunchaku—as he surveyed the surroundings.
He deliberately didn't use a shred of Internal Energy.
These people had their own rules, and Dan Woo-sung intended to respect them. As trash fought trash, the gloom from Soo Ran-yi washed away like it had never been there.
"Come at me, you trash."
His inner thoughts were different:
'Come at me—you're just another Lee Jin-eon, stuck in the past.'
Dan Woo-sung kicked a man aside, then drove his left fist into another's gut. The man choked, on the verge of passing out, until Dan Woo-sung patted his back to clear his airway. With a gasp, the man caught his breath—only for Dan Woo-sung to shove his face and send him sprawling.
Soon, Yanghwa Tavern's front was a wreck. Dan Woo-sung glanced at the dozens of groaning men on the ground.
The tavern's owner, who had been busy washing dishes, finally emerged and sighed as she sat on a slightly distant chair.
Dan Woo-sung approached her and pulled out a banknote from his belt, handing it over. Startled, she accepted it with both hands.
"For the chairs and tables. Use the rest to buy drinks for the guys who got hit."
"Ah, yes."
He added, "Check if it's enough."
"No, it's more than enough."
Dan Woo-sung nodded and turned to leave the battlefield.
"If there's extra, have a drink yourself."
The owner waved the banknote excitedly.
"Yes, Grand Prince! I'll put it to good use!"
As he walked away, Dan Woo-sung called back without turning.
"Is Ki-chan dead?"
She glanced at Sung Ki-chan's motionless form and reassured him.
"...He's breathing! Take care on your way!"
After scanning the fallen men, she quickly tucked the banknote into her waistband.
Luckily, no one saw.
She muttered under her breath,
"Tch, damn it. Always fighting right in front of my place. Are they trying to help business or ruin it?"
