Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Young Mistress O Eun-rim - [1]
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In the underworld of prostitution, gambling, and smuggling—where the law holds no sway—the only real power is raw, primal violence.
The ones most adept at wielding it are a breed called Martial Artists. Superhumans trained in martial arts. They dominate the underworld with the simplest force, lording over illegal organizations.
Naturally, Incheon's gangs fell under the sway of martial sects, and the venerable O Family Manor of Mansu-dong—a noble house with deep roots—was the overlord of this district.
A Martial Artist from the O Family Manor had stepped forward herself. What kind of thunderbolt was this? No one had seen it coming, so the six thugs were frozen stiff.
Yi Pung finally stirred, blocking the O Family Manor crew's path as he muttered.
"Cute? Didn't think you were cute at all. Bunch of ugly bastards."
The attendant to the female Martial Artist took a step forward. She shoved her face in his and barked.
"Hey, mister, we're not here for jokes, so cut the crap. You don't know who our lady is?"
"I do. So?"
"Then show some respect, why you actin' all high and mighty?"
"You nuts? You barge into our turf actin' like bosses. Don't you know if big bro was here, punks like you'd be crawlin' in?"
"Oh yeah? Hidin' behind some old geezer in jail gives you balls?"
Watching the standoff, the man with the broken tooth muttered.
"I know that woman's face. She's the Young Mistress of the O Family Manor. Why'd she come herself..."
He trailed off with a flinch. The Young Mistress of the O Family Manor—the Martial Artist woman—had locked eyes on him.
A Martial Artist's gaze carries a beastly edge. Thugs or whatever, ordinary folks can't withstand it.
As the broken-tooth guy trembled, another thug whispered beside him.
"Don't call her 'that bitch' or whatever! Watch your mouth. Martial Artists got sharp ears."
"Then why'd that hotshot Martial Artist show up..."
"'Cause I called her, dumbass."
The broken-tooth guy's eyes went wide.
"You called that chick?"
"Not her specifically, just requested backup. Called and said, 'We're gettin' beat to hell and captured—send some bros.' Thought they'd send a couple shoulder guys, but the Young Mistress herself rolls up. What the hell?"
What an absurd situation. Like bringing a tank to a street brawl.
Considering a Martial Artist's worth, the tank analogy wasn't much of an exaggeration. The Young Mistress of the O Family Manor was considered a decent expert. Her market value was estimated over 16 billion won. Purely in terms of price, she outcost a K-2 tank.
The 16-billion-won woman spoke.
"Uncle Pung."
Yi Pung replied indifferently.
"What?"
"I asked if you roughed up my boys. Answer me."
"Can't read palms."
"Playin' word games again. You wanna get beat?"
"Noble lady with a mouth like a sailor. Floor's dirty—here to clean?"
Unable to stomach the insult, perhaps? The Young Mistress drew her sword.
A long bamboo sword. Shaped like one to dodge police checks, but actually edged and hardened—a lethal weapon capable of splitting skulls.
Whether he knew that or not, Yi Pung just tsked in disdain.
"If we're throwin' down, let's go inside. Plenty of rice sacks in there—perfect for stuffin' bodies."
And so four of them headed into the acupuncture clinic.
The Young Mistress, Yi Pung, the young clinic director, and Yi Do-hyeok. As soon as they entered, her four attendants shut the door and stood guard.
What the hell was going on? The broken-tooth guy wailed.
"We're screwed."
The guy next to him shot back.
"Screwed? Nah, this is good. The punk who smashed your teeth? He's done for now."
"You were out cold, so you don't get it—that guy's a monster. Even she might not beat him..."
"You ever seen real Martial Artist skill?"
"Nope. But we're still screwed."
"Why, idiot?"
"Callin' out O Family Manor Martial Artists means we'll be payin' through the nose in tribute now."
The man flinched. Fair enough. Deploy a woman pricier than a tank, and the bill would top tank rental.
Still, unwilling to admit the screw-up, he stubbornly retorted.
"It's fine, you punk. If they beat 'em good, they earn their keep..."
Meanwhile, inside the locked clinic, Yi Pung and the Young Mistress sat facing each other.
The thugs outside probably imagined a desperate deathmatch between a martial female expert and mysterious men in that cramped space.
But reality?
The Young Mistress spoke first.
"Uncle Pung. You sure it's okay I came in here? Isn't this acupuncture clinic off-limits to Martial Artists?"
Yi Pung grinned.
"Invincible BB Bullet did flip out if any came in. Worried it'd scare off patients and tank local business. But hey? I'm footing the property taxes on this place now, so doesn't that make me the boss?"
Yi Pung and the O Family Manor folks went way back. Fellow Incheon Martial Artists, after all.
The Young Mistress muttered.
"Still feels iffy..."
"Relax, relax. He won't bitch at me. By the way, miss? No cussin' in front of people. First time out in the martial world?"
"That obvious?"
"Super obvious. Experts don't curse in fights. Looks tacky. Especially a noble lady."
"Oh, that wasn't just trash talk for effect—you were seriously scoldin' me. I'll watch it."
"No need to act tough. Everyone knows you're badass—just be natural. That's enough to make thugs bow."
As they chatted, Heo Pung-gae and Yi Do-hyeok sat on the bed listening.
Yi Do-hyeok, who'd braced for a brawl, couldn't process the chumminess. Weren't they at each other's throats outside?
As he shrank back in confusion, Heo Pung-gae spoke up.
"Why the long face? Sit comfy."
"Uh... no fight?"
"Why fight? Martial Artists don't scrap over nothing."
"What? Why?"
"That miss is an expert, right? Think how much spirit pills it took to raise one."
"Ten billion?"
"Fifty billion at least. And you don't get experts just feedin' anyone fifty billion in pills. Gotta cram 'em into the talented ones, and even then it's iffy."
"Yeah..."
"But how do you spot talent? Feed prospects pills and raise 'em till you know. Testing bunches like that costs billions more."
"So she really cost around a hundred billion to train. Her value's way higher, obviously. Risk injury in some dumb fight? Massive loss. Gotta play it safe."
Spirit pills were outrageously expensive these days. Way more than in the Joseon era Heo Pung-gae remembered.
Back then, they were pricey, but nothing compared to now.
Miracle pills existed, but only East Asians bought 'em—Westerners ignored the stuff.
Now that inner power cultivation and pill-popping were known to extend life, global tycoons flooded the market.
These whales snapped up every pill that hit shelves. Prices had ballooned fiftyfold or more.
Dig up a human-shaped snow ginseng for inner power boosts? Martial Artists now compete not just with each other, but Bill Gates and Saudi kings.
Raising a Martial Artist packed those pricey pills. As costs soared, so did their worth—top experts rivaled pro athletes.
"So why'd a precious lady like you come here? Really just for tribute?"
Yi Pung's question got a reply from the Young Mistress.
"Partially... but I know this is Invincible BB Bullet's clinic. Hearin' trouble broke out had me spooked. Thought I'd come whup your rude underlings myself."
"No need. Already handled."
"Yeah, saw that. Wasn't you, right Uncle Pung?"
"Course not. This guy's the one."
Yi Pung pointed at Heo Pung-gae. The Young Mistress eyed him.
"New face. That bro an expert?"
"Insanely so. My senior brother's disciple."
"Disciple of Invincible BB Bullet? Like you, Uncle Pung?"
"Nah, different. Official disciple."
"How strong, then?"
Heo Pung-gae, who'd stayed silent, finally spoke.
"Stronger than my master."
The Young Mistress's eyes widened.
"Stronger than Invincible BB Bullet?"
"Yes."
"Quit messin'."
"For real."
"Stronger than Korea's fourth-ranked expert?"
"Yep. Master's dropped to fifth now."
Of course, the Young Mistress—a Korean Martial Artist herself—didn't buy it. Outraged that a legend was being dissed as a lightweight.
"Official disciple outranks me in seniority, sure... but I wanna smack you one."
"Go ahead."
"For real?"
"If you can land it."
The Young Mistress raised her bamboo sword. Then checked with Yi Pung.
"Can I move this stuff? Don't wanna mess with Invincible BB Bullet's things..."
Yi Pung said.
"Fine by me. Some punks trashed the originals recently. This is all filler junk. Smash away."
"Alright, then..."
The Young Mistress feinted words, then exploded into action.
A flawless ambush. No warning, pure speed.
She kicked the table between them.
It flew straight at Heo Pung-gae's face.
He had no easy counter. Vision blocked by the incoming table, couldn't strike back with it in the way. That bamboo sword looked sturdy enough to pierce the thin board and hit him.
She probably figured he'd dive aside, but Heo Pung-gae didn't. Diving looked too amateur.
He obsessed over looking the expert part, and minimal moves sold it best.
So he just flicked a finger. The pre-loaded BB bullet shot toward the ceiling at near-invisible speed.
Thwack—it hit. The BB ricocheted back with full force. Right into the charging Young Mistress's back.
It struck her acupoint dead-on.
She froze mid-thrust, sword extended.
The flying table hit Heo Pung-gae's palm, halted in midair, then stood upright silently as he lowered his hand.
Heo Pung-gae said calmly.
"See that? If not, I'll do it again."
He flicked another BB bullet. Identical trajectory, same ricochet—hitting the exact same spot.
Acupoint strike released. Now mobile, the Young Mistress just blinked in shock.
Heo Pung-gae asked.
"See it?"
She flinched, unsure how to respond, then answered weakly.
"Yeah... Flicking Finger Divine Skill..."
She recognized it. Invincible BB Bullet's signature.
Even if stronger experts existed, none could replicate it. A peerless technique only the ascended Emperor Wanli could recreate among history's greatest.
And here it was, on display.