Chapter 103
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 103
Chapter Title: A Family-Like Clan (4)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Tracking them wasn't difficult.
Dang Cheonye had secretly scattered the Tang Clan's secret technique, Thousand Secret Fragrance, and the bastards had ingested it. Once consumed, the scent wouldn't fade for at least a week. Naturally, it was imperceptible to humans.
Only the specially drugged green cats could track Thousand Secret Fragrance. As expected, the bastards hadn't gotten far. They'd probably used blind spots to avoid being seen by people.
In truth, they'd been walking slowly.
As soon as the green cat reacted, Dang Ijun encircled the area with the Green Cloak Squad, cutting off any escape routes for the bastards.
He had immense pride in the Tang Clan. No one had the right to mock them.
But the closer they got...
'Blood scent.'
Blood mixed with poison rode the wind. Amid the thick stench of blood, Dang Ijun moved cautiously. Failure at a Tang Clan event was unacceptable. No matter the opponent, he had to give his all.
Hm.
A ripple of energy formed. The bastards were clearly fighting someone.
As Dang Ijun's doubts deepened, the identities of those involved came into view.
"Why are you, a famed righteous clan like the Tang Clan, attacking innocent people!"
"You've seen and heard things you shouldn't have."
"Brothers killing each other is commonplace. Especially with talent like that—jealousy and envy are only human. I get it, those inferiority-complex lumps."
"Shut your mouth! Don't compare us to that filthy blood!"
"True, Westerner blood is dirty. I know. So let us go at this point."
"For the crime of being where you shouldn't, pay with your life."
"You're really going all the way? I keep my mouth shut. Keep pushing, and I won't stay quiet!"
"Save your nonsense for hell!"
Dang Ijun and the Green Cloak Squad members, listening from a distance, darkened their expressions. The situation was far from ordinary. The ones who shouldn't be there... were them, not those guys.
Filthy blood, blond hair.
'Of course.'
Dang Ijun hadn't seen it himself, but he pieced it together. It was a family matter, but if word of today's events spread outside, the Tang Clan would suffer an indelible blow.
The problem was his sense of duty.
He brimmed with pride in the clan and firmly believed the Tang Clan represented the righteous faction. Thus, he thought every task must be handled justly and honorably.
Even Dang Ijun showed clear conflict.
It was the family's shame.
"Run. You're Yuk Chil, branch leader of the Beggar's Sect and a rising star! Hurry and inform Hong Muge about this."
"Yes, Brother Kang!"
What?
He was hesitating in conflict.
"Catch them quick!"
"No slacking."
"You bastard, blocking us?"
"No, I'm letting you escape too."
"Halt!"
"You think I'll stop because you say so!"
Everyone was visibly shocked at the mention of the Beggar's Sect. Beggars didn't usually carry fragrance pouches. But they'd named Hong Muge, a famed figure even among them.
"Damn!"
One step too late. Yuk Chil easily broke through the Green Cloak Squad's encirclement and vanished.
"Of all people!"
If that guy was truly a Beggar's Sect warrior, the situation would spiral into irreparable depths.
Dang Ijun had to act fast.
Mujin smirked as he watched Yuk Chil slip away. He'd herded the spectators to the destination perfectly—no more need for acting. Mixing it up with trash had dulled his martial arts.
He'd also separated the two protagonists, leaving them locked in fierce combat, unable to look away.
"Die!"
Dang Jinwoong's Three Yang Palms targeted Mujin's arm. Once the arm was subdued, he'd pierce Mujin's chest with Poison Blood Finger. Poison Blood Finger was tempered like Iron Thread Palm with poison sand, concentrating venom at the fingertips.
Crunch!
Black venom swirled at Dang Jinwoong's fingertips, but it missed the mark. He'd aimed to pin the arm and strike the chest—only to have his fingers shatter instead.
"Urk, my hand..."
"Wrong thing to worry about."
Mujin's foot headed for danger zone.
But actions spoke louder than words—and faster.
Splat!
They say pain at its peak silences screams.
Dang Jinwoong shuddered, staring down. He realized his precious asset lay in pieces. Should've used it more, he thought—saving it had backfired spectacularly.
"Feels like a big loss, huh."
To spare him prolonged grief, Mujin showed consideration.
He smashed the jaw.
Thwack thwack!
A cross strike: vertical then horizontal. The jaw rattled the mind; the temple crushed counterattack hopes.
It looked simple, but chaining vertical to horizontal demanded years of training—instilled so deeply you'd do it waking from sleep.
Thud!
As Dang Jinwoong collapsed, Dang Jincheol fared no better against Cheolho. His saintly rising star looks hid ruthless cunning. The charm of a twist.
Saintly yet old-eyed.
"Can't follow."
Mujin, goal achieved, dropped the pretense. He shot toward the forest without hesitation.
"...We're made!"
The panicked shout barely registered before Mujin's aura exploded.
To a level they couldn't handle.
Gasp!
Dang Ijun hadn't expected detection. But he wasn't just shocked by the charge—the Green Cloak Squad was the Tang Clan's pride. Unlike green novices faltering under ambushes, they were leagues apart.
Yet even with seasoned experience, foes like Mujin were rare.
"Soul-Piercing Demonic Eye, analyze."
Full army scan, prediction field.
Mujin read the subtle flows of Dang Ijun and the Green Cloak Squad. Foreseeing methods, forms, movements, he charged without hesitation.
Clang!
He deflected the blocking dart. The flung dagger flew in three directions, dictating the squad's reactions.
Mujin struck the solar plexus, shoving the fading foe aside, then punched three late responders in the face.
One Fist Three Shadows.
The fist split into three.
Thud thud smack!
Straight, left, right.
Mere fast punches? Hardly. He blinded with straight and flanks, then gifted kicks to the nearest three in the gap.
Rest easy in a kickless world.
Bam, splat, smack!
Lightning Triple Kick.
Unbelievably fast in an instant. But no time to marvel—this was the appetizer. The follow-up beggared belief. Aggressively dominant techniques linked seamlessly into one flow.
Thud thud thud smack!
Arrrgh!
The motions flowed like water in one breath, mesmerizing viewers.
Crash crash crash thud!
When Mujin stood before Dang Ijun, all thirty Green Cloak Squad members flew every which way, rolling on the ground.
Thump!
Every vital hit, they lay unconscious in disarray.
Smirk!
Mujin grinned.
Dang Ijun stared in disbelief. The enemy approached, yet he couldn't move. He'd lost control of the space.
"This can't..."
An elbow mercilessly smashed his temple.
Thud!
Before finishing, Dang Ijun hit the dirt. As squad leader, he'd shown counterattack signs. Mujin, respecting his will, stomped his face.
Splat!
Reacting cost one hit; defiance earned two. Mujin gathered the fallen Dang Ijun and squad in one spot.
Boom, whoosh!
Whoosh whoosh clatter!
The noisy impacts roused Dang Ijun. Head pounding like shattering, misaligned jaw aching strangely. What happened? He'd blacked out briefly.
Realizing his state, he scanned around.
"Awake?"
"Who the hell are you?"
"Wait at the inn, and we'd talk civilly. Anyone'd think you ran."
Who'd believe a runner denying flight?
"Didn't you run!"
"Why would I?"
"..."
Dang Ijun fell silent at the sight of his unconscious squad. Asking if they'd fled from fear of the Tang Clan shamed him. Resistance might've allowed denial, but this utter defeat was too embarrassing even for carelessness.
"Tang Clan must be overflowing with talent."
"What are you getting at!"
"That blond over there. Sideline him with that talent? Says it all."
"...No outsider's business!"
"Who wants in? You dragged him here."
Sharp judgment or not, Dang Ijun had no retort. Even he saw Dang Yeonwoo's prowess exceeded expectations.
"Blondie's under some seal yet holding even. He ain't the young lord, right? Nah, no way."
Urk!
Just punch me.
Each word stabbed like a dagger, scraping Dang Ijun's guts. Dang Yeoncheon was the Tang Clan's young lord. His face flushed crimson, desires unmet plain as day.
Was Dang Yeoncheon's skill lacking?
Dang Ijun could refute that. But even he marveled at Dang Yeonwoo's stand.
'Was Dang Yeonwoo always that great?'
Clearly not normal. Wounded, yet trading blows evenly with Dang Yeoncheon.
"Talent aside, great personality too. Want him bad. Join Pine Tiger Sect, I'd use him big."
Mujin's greedy lip-smack snapped Dang Ijun alert. His eye saw Dang Yeonwoo's genius clearly—a leader for the next generation. And he was about to lose him here.
"Save him, he'll repay you."
"Dang Yeonwoo's the patriarch's son!"
"Looks abandoned. I'll use him well. Long as he remembers Tang blood, anywhere's fine."
"Not true."
"Then why secret poison arts? Tang Clan's no ordinary house—martial world clan, yet can't train freely? A patriarch's own blood?"
Dang Ijun ran dry on justification. Every angle trapped him. And this bastard treated it casually, turning the Tang Clan into a powder keg overnight.
"Still holding back on his brother, but that 'brother's eyes are mad. Real siblings? Not blood feud level."
Mujin's mutter continued.
Dang Ijun wanted to plug his ears. Couldn't face up each time Dang Yeoncheon went berserk with killing intent.
"He'll die like that. Can I save him? No?"
...This damn bastard!
Dang Ijun trembled at the petty malice playing him. No need asking—he could've saved already. Asking was to create an out: "I saved your discard." Pure ploy.
Obvious scheme, yet he couldn't refuse. Body wouldn't obey. No acupoint seal, but shocks perfectly debilitating—just inconvenient enough. Needed time to recover.
Dang Ijun realized Mujin's strength far exceeded rumors. Heavenly Luck Fist? Bullshit.
"You save him then. But seeing this, won't they silence witnesses? Just tried killing me."
"...Don't spout nonsense!"
"Kill brother, ignore witnesses—impressive. Unique personality."
You son of a bitch!