The Presentation That Will Change the Dang Family
“Tang Thunder, is it… I rather like the name.”
At Dang Un-sang’s words, Dang Hwi-yeom grinned.
“You’ll like its power even more. Senior, is the demonstration ready?”
In private he would have called her Aunt, but this was a formal occasion, so Hwi-yeom used Dang Su-jeong’s official title.
Dang Su-jeong smirked and gave a firm nod.
“Whenever you like.”
“As soon as the targets are set, begin.”
The onlookers waited with open curiosity while the targets were prepared.
In a small courtyard tucked into a corner of the inner compound—a place where the Dang clan studied and discarded its poisons—the lingering toxicity had long since killed every plant, leaving only a barren stretch of yellow earth. When the elders of the Council of Elders saw the scarecrows being raised there, a murmur ran through them.
Each scarecrow was clad in steel lamellar armor and a helmet.
“They’re not just putting up ordinary targets or straw men?”
“Well, for someone like Dang Su-jeong, punching through lamellar would be nothing, but…”
That would be a display of personal martial prowess rather than the weapon’s quality—largely meaningless. Of course, if she demonstrated piercing the armor with only the barest minimum of internal energy, that would be another matter entirely.
Expectation and unease thickened in the air as Dang Su-jeong took her place ten jang—thirty meters—from the scarecrows.
“And the Tang Thunder?”
“Already in my sleeves. I intend to show them used exactly like ordinary hidden weapons…”
Hwi-yeom answered his father’s question. When Dang Su-jeong signaled she was ready, he waved a prepared red flag. The servants who had set up the scarecrows scrambled well clear. Su-jeong slipped both hands into her sleeves.
When she drew them out again, each palm held a metal sphere the size of a hen’s egg.
Snap!
For an instant sparks flashed between the index and middle fingers of both hands, followed by the faint hiss of something catching fire. Su-jeong hurled the two Tang Thunders toward the scarecrows. The watching crowd clicked their tongues.
“Eh?”
“Tsk. A mistake.”
A proper hidden weapon was supposed to streak toward its mark in secret and at speed. There were advanced techniques—like the Butterfly Dagger—that drifted in slow, elaborate arcs, but those arts had already been lost. And the shape of the Tang Thunder did not lend itself to that kind of throw either. Naturally, everyone assumed Su-jeong had simply tensed up and bungled it.
Dang Un-sang was just considering a joke to salvage the atmosphere when—
—KWA-AANG!!
The Tang Thunders that had arced above the scarecrows detonated with a thunderous roar. In the same instant the blast rang out, sparks sprayed from the steel armor; the scarecrows shattered into flying straw that scattered in every direction.
“……!”
“……!”
The faces of the elders who had been smirking with doubt went rigid. Several of the more delicate or untrained family members stumbled backward in shock.
In a world that had never known explosives, the sudden eruption of a man-made device produced a visceral reaction.
“Wh-what was that?!”
“Explosive poison? Is it explosive poison?!”
While the crowd stood open-mouthed, the dust settled. Hwi-yeom spoke.
“Step closer and see the Tang Thunder’s power for yourselves.”
“Y-yes, of course.”
He guided the still-dazed Dang Un-sang and the others toward the wreckage. The direct-line members who looked upon the scarecrows could not close their mouths.
The steel lamellar was riddled with dozens of holes.
Dang Un-sang stared at the pockmarked earth and asked, “Did you hide spring-loaded spikes inside the Tang Thunder?”
“Balls. It is a hidden weapon that uses the force of explosive poison to hurl a great quantity of balls in every direction.”
Hwi-yeom saw no need to explain to the elders the combination of nitroglycerin and diatomaceous earth that produced dynamite.
Strictly speaking, the explosive oil that plays the role of nitroglycerin can be called explosive poison, so it isn’t a lie.
“To wreck steel armor so thoroughly…”
It was not merely holes. Because so many small balls had been fired, every gap the armor failed to cover had been utterly mangled.
Hwi-yeom continued.
“The fundamental reason the Dang family’s hidden-weapon arts have weakened is the loss of the Dobansamyang-gwiwon-singong. That peerless art could load even a tiny needle with enough internal force to pierce steel plate and guide a weapon through the most intricate trajectories. Yet as you can see…”
He lifted a helmet that had taken the blast full-on, now nothing more than a scrap of perforated metal, and tapped it with a finger.
“With this Tang Thunder, even the Nokryong Singong can reproduce the devastating power of the Dobansamyang-gwiwon-singong.”
“Remarkable! Truly remarkable!”
Dang Un-sang slapped his thigh. Joy and hope shone in his eyes.
In the Council of Elders, however, a matching intensity of dread took root.
This is dangerous!
If this demonstration also succeeds, the Council’s authority will hit rock bottom.
We have to find some fault…!
The elders exchanged glances, then carefully opened their mouths.
“Punching holes in lamellar… is that not already possible if one simply loads iron pellets or throwing spikes with internal energy?”
“More importantly, it is far too loud. As a hidden weapon its practical value…”
“And if it obliterates an entire area like this, friend and foe become indistinguishable. In a melee it would be unusable. The Dang family might even be denounced as a lawless band that kills its own…”
Even as they made the arguments, their voices lacked conviction; they knew how forced they sounded.
Dang Un-sang drew breath, ready to snap at their ugly display, but Hwi-yeom stepped smoothly in front of him.
“Allow me to answer each point in turn.
“First—the claim that piercing iron armor is nothing special… Secretary Lee.”
“Yes.”
At the summons, Lee Jinmyeong stepped forward from the rear. The crowd regarded him with expressions that clearly asked, “And who are you?” He offered an awkward smile and a clasped-fist salute.
Hwi-yeom said, “As most of you know, this is Scholar Lee Jinmyeong, my second secretary. He knows no martial arts and therefore possesses no internal energy.
“Secretary Lee. Demonstrate.”
“Yes.”
While the onlookers tilted their heads, question marks almost visible above them, another scarecrow was set up. Lee Jinmyeong produced a Tang Thunder he had been carrying and prepared to throw. Only now could the audience clearly observe the process. Su-jeong’s cast had been too swift, and the friction of her ring had already struck the flame inside her sleeve; Lee’s movements were comparatively slow.
“Oho—using the friction of a ring to light it…”
“That is no ordinary flint.”
When the fuse caught, Lee hurled the Tang Thunder. Whether his timing was off or not, this time the sphere struck the ground without exploding in midair. The elders were just beginning to smile in triumph when the device detonated.
—KWA-AANG—!!
When the dust cleared, the new scarecrow was every bit as ruined. The lamellar looked like paper punched full of holes by rain. The elders could not close their mouths.
“A mere scholar with no internal energy threw a hidden weapon and it…!”
“Young Patriarch, was the Tang Thunder not a weapon based upon the Nokryong Singong?”
Half in panic, the elders demanded answers. Hwi-yeom smiled.
“That is precisely the excellence of the Tang Thunder—no, of the Nokryong Singong itself.
“From this day forward, the Dang family’s hidden weapons will unleash terrifying power even in the hands of those whose martial arts are low. And when wielded by those of high attainment, they will become weapons of pure nightmare.
“Secretary Lee.”
“Yes!”
At Hwi-yeom’s command, Lee Jinmyeong clapped sharply. His subordinates rushed forward bearing a large wooden frame shaped like the character J and stood it upright. Upon it they hung a thick sheaf of paper that could be flipped like an oversized sketchbook. The first sheet read:
Hwi-yeom took a long pointer from Lee Jinmyeong, tapped the first sheet, and began.
“To restore the Amgijong we face many problems, but they can be reduced to two great tasks: the recovery of the many lost hidden weapons, and the recovery of the internal energy heart method indispensable to their use.
“For years our family has poured time, effort, and funds into both. The results have been meager. That is no fault of the diligent people present here; the work itself is as arduous as creating an entirely new martial art. Unless we produce a peerless master on the level of our ancestral founders, perfect restoration of the Dobansamyang-gwiwon-singong is a goal no single generation can reach.”
Even while declaring the family’s dearest wish to be nearly impossible, Hwi-yeom’s voice remained firm and confident.
“That is where my thinking began.
“Must a powerful hidden-weapon art necessarily be accompanied by powerful internal energy? Is the feat truly impossible without the force of the Dobansamyang-gwiwon-singong? Can the Nokryong Singong, its equal in renown, truly achieve nothing?
“While wrestling with the question I happened upon a treatise on poisons and read of a venomous insect that lives in Yunnan Province—the Flame Bug. Its unique venom, when expelled, produces a small explosion.”
The “Flame Bug” was none other than the bombardier beetle. Hwi-yeom had dug up the creature as a convenient pretext while searching for a way to explain nitroglycerin.
“What if the nature of a poison were changed—not merely to boil an enemy’s blood, twist their nerves, or melt their organs, but to explode? What if that explosive force could be loaded into shards of metal, spikes, or needles and launched? Might we not, using the Nokryong Singong’s ability to bestow toxic properties, recreate the Flame Bug’s venom? That was the spark that began the experiments.
“And the result…”
He pointed the stick at the wrecked scarecrows and smiled a deep, satisfied smile.
“is what you see before you.”
A stir ran through the crowd. Dang Un-sang had to clench every muscle to keep the rising tide of emotion from bursting free. The moment for open rejoicing had not yet come; his proud son still had more to say. So he endured the wave of exultation and waited.
Hwi-yeom continued.
“The Tang Thunder is merely the most primitive and intuitive example of such a weapon: an iron casing packed with iron balls or caltrops, charged with explosive poison, and thrown to detonate. The explosive poison itself was temperamental—liable to explode at the slightest shock, or else refuse to explode at all unless struck by a different internal energy. Controlling it proved difficult.
“But we discovered that fire would set it off, and from that knowledge we developed a method of control. Here Senior Dang Unhwa rendered outstanding service, and for that merit he has been entered with honor into the Dang Family Roll of Heroes.”
Amazed gazes swung toward Dang Unhwa; he bared his teeth in a broad grin. Outside those gazes, Hwi-yeom smiled darkly to himself. He had carefully concealed the existence of dynamite made by soaking explosive oil into diatomaceous earth. There was no telling what the Council of Elders might attempt, so the value of diatomaceous earth was best left unknown. Even if the elders somehow smuggled out a Tang Thunder or its design, they would never obtain a true working version.
“Second objection—that it is too noisy to be useful as a hidden weapon. Must a hidden weapon always be concealed and silent? Striking the enemy’s unguarded moment with an attack they never expected—that is the true essence of the hidden weapon. Just as a Tang Thunder that looks like an ordinary iron pellet suddenly explodes.
“The Tang Thunder is only the beginning. I will use this explosive force to forge hidden weapons that will lift the Dang family to the foremost house under heaven. That also answers the third concern. Beyond simply leveling an area, I will load this explosive power into needles and throwing spikes so that directed fire becomes possible.”
“…!”
“Moreover, every one of these weapons can be manufactured only by direct-line members of the Dang family who have cultivated the Nokryong Singong. Once made, however, even ordinary people who know nothing of martial arts will be able to use them. The Tang Thunder thrown by Secretary Lee, who has no martial arts at all, could easily take the lives of several first-rate experts.”
“Ah.”
“Whoa…”
“Insane.”
“Such a thing…”
Voices of awe, delight, and despair erupted on every side. As Hwi-yeom flipped page after page, revealing only those portions of his designs and accumulated data that could safely be shown, the volume of those voices only grew.
“…That concludes the presentation. One final word, however.”
Having finished every explanation, Hwi-yeom slapped the pointer against his palm with a sharp crack and spoke with absolute confidence.
“The world will remember this: in the Sichuan Dang Family, even a third-rate martial artist can kill a first-rate master with the flick of a finger.
“The King of Hidden Weapons has returned.”
It may not have been a presentation delivered in a black turtleneck beside a bitten-apple logo.
But the world would remember.
This was the presentation that changed the Sichuan Dang Family—and the world itself.