Thus It Must Be: Gang Ryong, the Hairy Warrior (Age 28)
Gang Ryong, the hairy warrior (age 28). A mid-tier fighter who'd earned some respect in Hwang Sabang, recognized for his skills and loyalty, he'd been put in charge of the action squad as their doju. ...That was, until just moments ago.
Things were different now. His body a battered mess from the beating he'd taken from the gang leader, he leaned limply against the middle gate of Yi Gajang's estate.
What was happening inside? The sounds carrying over the wall were more than enough to paint the picture.
"You idiots! What the hell are you looking at? Over there! There! No, this way!"
"Guhk!"
"Kek!"
"Kuhk!"
"Eek! Get out of the way, you useless trash. You're just in the damn way!"
"Ttaheuk!"
Hwang Sabang leader Seo Dongrip bellowing orders at the top of his lungs, the rough shouts and clashes of swinging blades, the panicked flailing, the frustrated fury as he struck down his own men, the dizzying screams—it was pure pandemonium.
Definitely not a positive situation for Hwang Sabang. Just as Gang Ryong had anticipated...
And as time dragged on, the screams were starting to drown out everything else.
"Hey. Lock the gate."
A clear voice rang out from inside. Serene even amid the chaos. His voice.
The mad Third Young Master... no, the insanely strong Third Young Master!
Gang Ryong answered urgently. "Yes, sir!"
The man Gang Ryong. Once he made up his mind, he followed through decisively. He grabbed a nearby bar from the scattered mess and slammed the bolt shut.
A few desperate escapees pounded and kicked at the gate, but he braced his body against it, refusing to budge. It was regrettable, but unavoidable. Defying his orders would mean death for him...
"You bastards! Anyone who runs gets killed by my hand first!"
Seo Dongrip's voice, rage boiling over. From the other side of the gate Gang Ryong was holding, came the sounds of him personally smashing down those who'd tried to flee—with his fists.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Gang Ryong, with his exceptional toughness, might hold out somehow. But how could the rest of his underlings withstand the full-force Hwang Sa Fist?
Every time he heard a subordinate's skull crack, Gang Ryong's heart shattered right along with it.
With the one escape route at the middle gate blocked, some circled around and tried scaling the walls. Faces drained white with terror, they scrambled desperately over.
Gang Ryong couldn't bring himself to stop them, too. These were guys he'd been joking around with just that morning!
"D-Do... Doju! Please, spare us!"
Those who'd made it over clung to him desperately.
He gave them his heartfelt advice: just kneel and bow their heads. That's how they'd survive.
They hesitated at first, but one by one, they dropped and pressed their foreheads to the ground...
Meanwhile, the screams from inside were dying down, until all that remained was the sound of Hwang Sabang leader Seo Dongrip gritting his teeth and swinging his fists.
Whoosh—whoosh—
The rough wind from Seo Dongrip's signature technique, the Hwang Sa Fist.
But it cut only empty air. Instead, there were those occasional stab-stab sounds... something piercing flesh.
Gang Ryong cautiously asked one of the kowtowing subordinates. "What's going on inside? What the hell is making that noise?"
"We can't catch him at all. He doesn't even seem that fast, but he's like a damn ghost! And that creepy thing—he's just stabbing wherever he wants... Hiiik!"
Another stab-stab.
And the source? Nothing more than a pair of chopsticks.
Tiny and ordinary compared to proper weapons like swords or blades. How much damage could something that small really do?
Yet the subordinate shuddered violently, clamping his hands over his ears as if facing the most terrifying weapon on earth.
Seo Dongrip, who hadn't so much as groaned despite countless stabs...
Finally let out a cry. "Kuhk!"
The chopstick must have hit a vital spot.
Frantic footsteps, as if scrambling to put distance between them. Then the Third Young Master's voice, dry and emotionless.
"Giving up already? You said you were gonna kill me, didn't you? Weren't you prepared for this much?"
Bang!
The gate Gang Ryong was leaning against shook violently. Even the Hwang Sabang leader was trying to escape now.
Gang Ryong braced harder, and the leader's massive fist hammered the gate in rage.
"Hey. Swing that fist at me, not the gate. What's the point of taking it out on an innocent door? You break it, you're paying for it."
Confirming the gate was firmly shut, Seo Dongrip veered aside and leaped for the wall.
Or tried to. As he planted one hand to vault over—stab!
His face twisted. "Kraaaak!"
Already covered in blood, the Hwang Sabang leader screamed in agony.
Where had it hit this time? His failed escape dragged him back inside was a horrifying sight even from this side.
But he didn't give up. Moments later, he was clinging to the wall again, scrambling over in a manner utterly unworthy of his station.
One foot barely made it up, and with agonizing effort, the other followed. He finally crested it, tumbling to the ground with a thud, unable to even stand.
Gang Ryong stared in stunned horror. His body was drenched in blood everywhere, and worst of all—two long chopsticks were buried deep in him. One in his ankle, the other... deep in his ass.
Collapsed face-down on the ground, the Hwang Sabang leader looked decades older in an instant, his soul utterly broken.
As Gang Ryong gaped blankly at the wretched sight, a voice came from inside the gate. "Open up."
"Yes, sir!"
Gang Ryong swiftly unbolted it. He flung the gate wide and bowed deeply as Yi Jinpyeong strolled out, hands clasped behind his back, dignified as ever.
A bit winded, sure, but utterly unscathed. His face remained ice-cold.
"H-Hiiik!"
Suddenly snapping to, the Hwang Sabang leader bolted again.
***
Hwang Sabang leader Seo Dongrip. A rugged middle-aged man who'd survived every ordeal life threw at him.
Known for having no blood, no tears. But not today. Today, the blood flowed freely—and so did the tears.
"Kuhuhu... You bastard... That vicious prick..."
Wiping his blurred vision, he fled with labored steps until his foot caught, sending him tumbling across the dirt.
"Kraaaak!"
As he rolled, the chopsticks plunged even deeper. Into his ankle... and right in the middle of his ass.
His trembling hands fumbled to pull them out, but he couldn't bring himself to even try.
And then—the demon approached, footsteps leisurely, almost mocking.
"I... Eek..."
No strength left to stand. Seo Dongrip abandoned the effort and crawled on all fours, inching away desperately.
As if escaping Yi Gajang would free him from that monster...
He still couldn't comprehend it. That scrawny, emaciated frame—no trace of inner energy whatsoever. How could one man toy with all of Hwang Sabang?
Slipping through crowds like a ghost, stabbing chopsticks effortlessly into flesh wherever he pleased.
Sure, the tips were sharpish, but compared to lethal weapons, they were blunt as hell.
Yet every time that guy's body twisted, elbow snapped, wrist flicked—the chopsticks pierced his battle-hardened skin like nothing.
Hwang Sabang leader Seo Dongrip despaired. And regretted.
I should've listened to Gang Ryong more...
If he'd just knelt quietly, things might've turned out different.
Was this the end of his fleeting dream? Yi Gajang's estate was vast, true. He'd crawled what felt like forever, only to reach the main gate.
He twisted his head up. Yi Gajang. 李家場.
The grand plaque stared back. As did Yi Jinpyeong's face, crouched right beside him.
"That's right. This is Yi Gajang. No one dares challenge it."
The Hwang Sabang leader begged for his life. "S-Spare... spare me. I swear... I'll never set foot here again."
"Hey. Don't you think it's a bit late for that?"
Yi Jinpyeong chuckled. "Your bad call got your men killed. How can you beg to slink away alone? Hell, you personally smashed some of them earlier. You really think a guy like you deserves to lead a gang?"
"......"
"Why'd it come to this? It could've ended with just a few slaps over trying to take our Yi Gajang plaque. Hell, we owed your gang, so we could've settled it peacefully, no sweat."
Right. The debt! In Yi Jinpyeong's words, Seo Dongrip glimpsed a sliver of hope.
He cried out desperately. "Forget that measly rice! Take it! Just leave me be! Please—"
"Nah? But you are gonna pay it back."
"......"
"Didn't I say it? This body always repays its debts."
"No, I said you don't have to—why do you keep—"
"You just don't get it. I set the rules."
"Th-That's..."
"Maybe you had a chance earlier. But not anymore. You never should've threatened Yi Gajang—or our brothers' lives."
Hwang Sabang leader Seo Dongrip realized it then. His greed had ruined everything. And this kid had zero intention of letting him live.
After bottomless despair came pure venomous hatred. Summoning his last scrap of strength, he lunged to grab the boy too close to him.
Or tried to. As if reading it perfectly, Yi Jinpyeong leaped back. In his hand—the chopstick yanked from the man's ankle.
It loomed from a speck to filling his world.
And... stab!
That was Hwang Sabang leader Seo Dongrip's final moment.
**
Yi Jinpyeong suddenly felt bone-deep fatigue. He'd stuffed himself with pork to restore his energy, but pushing this frail, foundationless body too long in battle had taken its toll.
Especially against a brute like the Hwang Sabang leader, solid inside and out. It demanded peak focus.
One slip, one grab, and he'd have been the one done for...
Even just relentless attacking left his body aching like it might crumble. His palms, torn from stabbing with chopsticks, dripped blood.
But it had to be done. He'd never spared anyone who touched his family.
He gazed coldly at the corpse. Chopstick buried deep between the eyes, that vicious face frozen wide-eyed in death.
No particular emotions stirred. No regrets.
Of course not.
He turned and headed back into the estate. Toward his still-unconscious brothers—and the remaining Hwang Sabang trash.
What a long day, he thought. And it had been.
The former world's greatest, Yi Gyeol. Or the fifteen-year-old boy, Yi Jinpyeong.
Still just day one of awakening...