Black Killer Night Yaksha
Rumors spread like wildfire about the man who crushed every Black Dao gang in his path.
No Black Dao gang survived intact against the lone spear he wielded.
People expressed both hope and concern for his relentless march.
Yet most cheered for the solitary warrior smashing through the Black Dao unscathed.
They wished he'd give the entire underworld a thorough thrashing.
Whether it was possible or not didn't matter.
They simply sent their support, hoping he'd make their dreams come true.
Black Killer Night Yaksha.
That was the moniker they gave him—a night demon slaying the Black Dao—born from those sentiments.
It was Woo-gang's first nickname.
Unlike Gerongbang, which sat in the heart of the market district, Chilseongbang was tucked away in a remote spot.
They didn't need to get their hands dirty themselves—the tribute from lesser gangs flowed in steadily.
That was why, unlike the Black Dao gangs Woo-gang had demolished so far, Chilseongbang resembled a proper martial sect.
Its main gate stood wide open.
Had they not heard the rumors about Woo-gang?
Impossible.
They knew he'd earned the title Black Killer Night Yaksha—and that he was heading their way.
Yet leaving the gate open like that screamed overconfidence.
And as dusk began to fall and lanterns flickered to life one by one...
Woo-gang arrived at Chilseongbang.
Finding it hadn't been hard.
His supporters had spotted him first and pointed the way.
Standing before Chilseongbang, Woo-gang stared silently at the open gate before stepping inside.
A long path stretched from the entrance.
Flanking it were crowds of Chilseongbang warriors.
Their gazes—and the faint killing intent they exuded—all fixed on Woo-gang.
That collective malice pressed down on him.
But Woo-gang walked through it unfazed, absorbing it with his entire body.
Compared to the thick killing intent he'd endured head-on in Hanchon Secret Cave, this was nothing.
As Woo-gang reached the center of Chilseongbang, a sturdy middle-aged man stepped forward.
His rugged features and refined aura set him apart from the Black Dao thugs Woo-gang had faced before.
A short distance away, gang leader Pyo Ha-rim lounged crookedly on a large chair, watching the scene.
Pyo Ha-rim was surely Chilseongbang's strongest, so who was this middle-aged man?
The question never crossed Woo-gang's mind.
Whoever he was, Woo-gang would cut him down.
"You've been rampaging fearlessly, but this ends here! This is your grave!"
Pyo Ha-rim bellowed at Woo-gang.
Woo-gang showed no reaction.
Clap!
Not expecting a reply anyway, Pyo Ha-rim clapped from his seat.
Whoosh!
Chilseongbang warriors swiftly encircled Woo-gang and the middle-aged man, creating ample space for their duel while poised to charge at any moment.
Pyo Ha-rim watched with a smirk.
The one who'd stepped up in his place was Chilseongbang's second-in-command, Jeong Yeo-ryang.
Chilseongbang was a rising power in the Black Dao, but things were different behind closed doors.
Factions had split around Pyo Ha-rim and Jeong Yeo-ryang, locked in a tense tug-of-war.
No major conflicts had erupted yet, but the powder keg was primed.
Upon hearing of Woo-gang, Jeong Yeo-ryang had volunteered to handle him before Pyo Ha-rim could speak.
He aimed to solidify his influence in Chilseongbang and gain the upper hand in the power struggle.
Pyo Ha-rim didn't stop him.
If Jeong Yeo-ryang somehow won, it might be trouble—but Pyo Ha-rim doubted it.
His plan: Let Jeong Yeo-ryang die, let Woo-gang take heavy wounds, then swarm and finish it.
Pyo Ha-rim and Jeong Yeo-ryang each harbored their own schemes over Chilseongbang's throne.
As he replayed his plot with a sinister grin, Woo-gang and Jeong Yeo-ryang clashed.
Woo-gang struck first.
Closing the gap swiftly, he swept his spear upward from below.
The razor-sharp blade arced hugely, aiming to cleave Jeong Yeo-ryang in two.
Clang!
Jeong Yeo-ryang's response was just as quick.
Retreating a few steps, he drew his sword in a flash and parried the spear.
No stagger, no deflection—a perfect block.
It was the first time since returning to the Central Plains that Woo-gang's strike had been fully stopped.
Yet Woo-gang's expression didn't change.
As if he'd expected it.
Woo-gang's upward force met Jeong Yeo-ryang's downward pressure in a stalemate.
But the balance soon tipped.
Woo-gang's spear inched higher; Jeong Yeo-ryang's face flushed red.
Boom!
Woo-gang unleashed a burst of qi, shoving Jeong Yeo-ryang back with raw power.
Unable to withstand the sudden explosion, Jeong Yeo-ryang's body flew into the air.
Woo-gang pounced without missing a beat.
Boom!
This time, Woo-gang's eyebrows twitched faintly.
Not perfect, but Jeong Yeo-ryang had blocked again.
Flailing mid-air, he'd desperately regained his footing, swinging his sword just in time for the thrusting spear.
His unstable stance sent him staggering, but he'd avoided a fatal wound—a solid defense.
Thud!
Woo-gang decided not to give him breathing room.
Chu Pung Gu Hwan Bo unfolded.
In that instant, Jeong Yeo-ryang's eyes widened.
Woo-gang, who should have closed in, halted—instead, the spear shot forward like it had stretched.
An unfamiliarity with spears at play.
Normally, you'd expect the opponent to close distance for their weapon to reach you.
But spears outranged swords and blades, needing less ground covered.
Until now, Woo-gang had fought Black Dao warriors by entering their range for close quarters, leveraging the spear's reach indirectly.
Now, he fully exploited its advantage.
Proof of Jeong Yeo-ryang's superior skill to prior foes.
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh!
Woo-gang's spear thrust repeatedly.
So fast, parrying with a sword seemed impossible.
Straight thrusts that curved subtly at the end—sticking your blade in might get it swept away.
Jeong Yeo-ryang backpedaled frantically, dodging.
Thud.
Something bumped his heel as he retreated.
The foot of a Chilseongbang warrior who'd been matching his steps backward, now backed against the wall.
Meanwhile, Woo-gang's spear tip closed in on his face.
Jeong Yeo-ryang gritted his teeth.
Without hesitation, he hurled himself sideways, evading.
"Gahhh!"
As he dodged, several Chilseongbang warriors behind him became hives under Woo-gang's strike.
Pierced repeatedly, they bled profusely and collapsed.
Regaining his stance, Jeong Yeo-ryang charged Woo-gang.
Before Woo-gang could pivot, he'd pulled him into his own range.
An opening appeared in Woo-gang's guard; Jeong Yeo-ryang's eyes gleamed.
'Got him!'
He swung his sword with full force.
Infused with qi, it dove for the gap—he was certain of victory.
Boom!
Suddenly, an unimaginable force repelled him, sending him tumbling.
Jeong Yeo-ryang stared at Woo-gang in disbelief as he rolled on the ground.
An attack he'd deemed unblockable—yet here was the impossible result.
Spear unfamiliarity again.
Jeong Yeo-ryang's judgment wasn't far off.
Dodging or sweeping it away would have been near-impossible.
So Woo-gang used a clever trick.
He yanked back the extended spear.
Relaxing his grip as he pulled his arm, the spear slid rearward in his hands.
Gripping near the tip, he blocked with the shaft's rear—then detonated his qi.
'How the hell do you fight that?!'
Jeong Yeo-ryang's eyes quivered.
Stronger than he'd imagined—or prepared for.
As confusion gripped him, Woo-gang readjusted his spear and advanced.
His steadfast form made Jeong Yeo-ryang tremble faintly.
No clue how to counter it.
'That spear... I need a way to handle the spear!'
Jeong Yeo-ryang clenched his teeth.
He hadn't given up.
His ambitions for Chilseongbang were too vast.
He reset his stance, widening the gap.
Plan: Keep distance, evade, observe Woo-gang's patterns—no rash approaches.
Woo-gang saw through it instantly.
And had no intention of playing along.
Thud!
He kicked off the ground.
Chu Pung Gu Hwan Bo activated; Jeong Yeo-ryang moved to retreat further.
But Woo-gang's speed was leagues faster now.
He closed faster than Jeong Yeo-ryang could flee.
Not maintaining distance like a swordsman—narrowing it aggressively.
Jeong Yeo-ryang brightened.
With newfound confidence, he lunged.
But realization dawned quickly: his thinking was flawed.
Gripping the spear mid-shaft, Woo-gang whipped it freely, pressuring him.
Jeong Yeo-ryang panicked more.
It felt even deadlier up close than at range.
Slash! Slash! Slash!
He couldn't hold out long.
Before he could react, Woo-gang's blade sliced across him repeatedly.
Clean gashes welled with blood like fountains.
Jeong Yeo-ryang staggered wildly.
Woo-gang delivered the finishing blow.
Whirrr!
Snapping the rapidly spinning spear from its circular whirl, he channeled his full power into a mighty thrust.
Boom!
"Guhk!"
Jeong Yeo-ryang spewed blood and flew backward.
A massive hole gaped in his chest; his eyes stared lifelessly at the sky from the ground.
Whoosh!
Pyo Ha-rim shot to his feet, pale as a ghost.
Jeong Yeo-ryang's death was as planned.
But Woo-gang stood unscathed.
"Everyone, charge! Kill him!"
Pyo Ha-rim roared.
Over a hundred Chilseongbang warriors were gathered here.
No expert could solo that many alone.
Jeong Yeo-ryang's loyalists charged first, followed by Pyo Ha-rim's.
Even as hundreds brandished blades and surged, Woo-gang stood firm, spear gripped tight.