Ways to Make Them Eat It (3)
I approached the two warriors training in the inn's backyard.
Thanks to the Ho-woong Won-che-tang I'd been feeding them for three straight days, they already radiated the fierce energy of a tiger and a bear at first glance.
The pair were hanging from the iron frame I'd set up, doing sit-ups.
"One hundred twenty-four! One hundred twenty-five!"
"One hundred twenty-six!"
They could now handle a hundred reps with ease.
I rubbed my nose.
"What's that look for?"
"Nothing, just feeling proud seeing them like this."
Palgap's face twisted into an expression that said he had something to say but wouldn't.
"What? That insolent glare?"
"Misunderstanding, young master. I'm looking at you with eyes full of respect right now."
"......Right."
Why did that leave a bitter taste?
After they finished their two hundred hanging sit-ups, I walked over to the two warriors.
"The main rounds start tomorrow."
"Ah, finally."
"Yes. How are you feeling?"
They exchanged glances at my question and replied.
"Now we can finally get revenge and raise our sect's honor."
"I'm really looking forward to it."
The glint in their eyes was nothing like the mild-mannered vibe from before.
These were the eyes of men who'd rolled through battlefields where life and death hung in the balance for decades.
I didn't do anything wrong, did I?
I stepped out of the inn.
As I sat on a rock in a nearby clearing, someone approached with a tray of goods slung over their shoulder.
"Mooncakes for sale! Mooncakes! Delicious mooncakes!"
A mooncake vendor.
Mooncakes were traditional sweets eaten during the Mid-Autumn Festival.
With the festival approaching, they were already selling them?
I started to brush it off casually—then froze.
I sensed a familiar aura from the vendor.
It was Chun-il.
The core of our Eunhae Merchant Group's intelligence network.
"One mooncake, please!"
"Y-yes, sir!"
I asked as he hurried over.
"Business good?"
"It's the martial arts大会, after all! Haha!"
Lowering my voice, I pressed him.
"So, is Namgung On still going around claiming he lost because you used cowardly tricks?"
"Yes."
Namgung On's house arrest had lasted just two days before he was freed, and since that night, he'd been carousing with courtesans in the pleasure houses, spreading that tale to anyone who'd listen.
"Good. Did you follow my instructions?"
"Of course."
I'd told Chun-il to deploy our intelligence agents to spread the rumor.
That they'd heard Namgung On saying his loss wasn't due to lack of skill, but dirty tricks.
Not hard at all.
We weren't twisting his words—just amplifying them as-is.
"Well done."
I handed over a generous sum as payment.
"Use the rest for operational expenses."
"Aigoo, thank you."
Chun-il handed me a mooncake like a proper vendor, and we each took one.
He slipped away, and we gazed at the moon while munching.
The moon's so bright tonight.
The next day, I headed to the arena with my family.
Among our group were the Dae-nohk warrior and the Su-am warrior.
We arrived and took our seats.
Soon, Geum-yeon-hwa Daeju ascended the platform and announced the start of the main rounds.
"We now begin the first round of the main tournament matches. First matchup: Dae-nohk warrior of the Connection Gate versus Dam-mok Il of the Dam-mok family!"
The Dam-mok family hailed from Zhejiang Province, famed for their Falling Star Swordsmanship.
And from the preliminaries, young master Dam-mok Il had shown decent skill.
I quietly reminded the rising Dae-nohk warrior.
"Remember what I told you?"
"Yes. Loud and clear."
"That's all. Good luck."
He nodded and mounted the arena stage.
"Boo! You coward!"
"Feel good beating Namgung On young master with dirty tricks?"
As expected, the crowd hurled abuse at the Dae-nohk warrior.
People stirred up by hearing Namgung On's claims of foul play.
But those who'd watched the match up close found it absurd.
"What? No matter how I think about it, there were no dirty tricks..."
"If there'd been any, the judges or the Murim Alliance masters would've stepped in."
"Namgung On was just toying with him, got careless, and paid for it."
I smirked at the mixed reactions.
Then watched the Dae-nohk warrior on stage.
Despite the jeers, he stood firm, eyes locked on his opponent.
I recalled what I'd told him last night.
Before long, all seven markers on both warriors were in place.
Thoom!
The drum sounded, and the match began.
Dam-mok Il spoke first.
"I watched your prelims. Sorry, but no more lucky flukes."
"You think I advanced on luck too?"
"Otherwise, how does a second-rate beat a peak expert?"
"......"
The Dae-nohk warrior assumed his stance without reply. Dam-mok Il did the same, probing for openings.
Dam-mok Il struck first.
ScreeEEE!
In a blink, he closed in and shattered the marker on the Dae-nohk warrior's left waist.
Thwack!
A cautious strike, no underestimation.
He'd mouthed off about luck, but instinct told him otherwise.
One careless move, and he could lose.
The attacks flowed on.
Falling Star Swordsmanship, alright.
Relentlessly pressuring the Dae-nohk warrior at blinding speed.
Crack!
Thud!
Two more markers shattered in an instant. Four left.
As the Dae-nohk warrior's tags crumbled effortlessly, Dam-mok Il's face eased into confidence.
I could read his thoughts.
His gut had screamed danger, but now? Just nerves.
But instincts aren't to be ignored.
They'd saved me from disaster more than once.
The Dae-nohk warrior counted his remaining markers.
One on his left shoulder, one on his right waist, one on his chest, one on his right leg.
Four left.
He recalled Eun Seo-ho's words.
Time to show the fruits of their training.
"No need to tense up. Wouldn't want it ending too quick—I'll take my time with you."
Dam-mok Il taunted. The Dae-nohk warrior replied.
"No need."
"Ho, no skill but plenty of pride?"
"See for yourself."
He resumed his stance.
And thought of Namgung On.
Toying with him at the arena.
Sending black path thugs for revenge after his ring-out loss—targeting him and his senior brother.
Then spreading lies about his dirty tricks.
Rage boiled up.
He swung, channeling it into his blade.
In a flash, he sliced the marker on Dam-mok Il's left shoulder.
Shrick!
Dam-mok Il flinched.
Until a moment ago, he couldn't even parry properly... What speed was this?
Scree! Shrick!
The Dae-nohk warrior's sword flowed freely; Dam-mok Il barely defended.
Far faster, far stronger than before.
Krunch!
Thump!
Two more gone. Only four left for him.
Dam-mok Il sweated, desperately blocking.
Clang!
Clang-clang-clang!
Exchanges too swift for ordinary eyes.
The Dae-nohk warrior dominated.
Dam-mok Il down to two markers; him still at four.
But he bit his lip.
Exploding inner power via rage lasted about one ke (15 minutes).
And that time had passed.
Strength ebbing fast.
Just two more! Damn it!
Dam-mok Il sensed it first.
Opportunity struck—he counterattacked fiercely.
Claaang! Kang!
The Dae-nohk parried, but his left shoulder marker shattered.
Three left.
Krunch!
Right leg gone. Two left.
Not like this! Damn it!
Then he spotted Eun Seo-ho.
Memories flooded in.
And...
Three days of retching down that vile Ho-woong Won-che-tang.
Training so brutal he wondered why he hadn't died.
Eun Seo-ho's teasing scratches at his temper.
Rage surged anew.
Normally, rage-boosted power came once per sichen (2 hours).
But this fury shattered the limit.
"Raaargh!"
He roared, slashing at Dam-mok Il.
Clang! Clang!
Thud!
Clang-clang-clang!
Thump!
Dam-mok Il flailed helplessly against the onslaught.
A whole new level.
His last two markers crumbled.
"S-stop! I yield! My markers are gone!"
Dam-mok Il's cry snapped him back; he halted.
"......"
"Your win. No fluke. I apologize for my earlier words."
"......Uh, sure."
Geum-yeon-hwa Daeju mounted the platform.
"First match of the main round one: Victory to the Dae-nohk warrior of the Connection Gate!"
"Woooah!"
Cheers erupted.
I smirked amid the cheers.
He fought better than expected.
With two markers left, I'd thought it over.
Opponent held strong; his power waning.
But that final burst clinched it.
Training showed rage bursts limited to one ke per sichen.
How'd he pull it off again?
Curious, but later.
Celebrate the win now.
Whispers rippled around.
"No dirty tricks anywhere."
"Fought fair and square."
"Yeah."
"So what's Namgung On on about?"
"Obvious—lost, embarrassed, making excuses."
"Aha!"
I grinned wide.
Namgung On must be seething.
But is that all?
The Namgung family ignores hired thugs for venting.
But public humiliation of the clan? Unforgivable.
Heh heh heh.
That's my angle.
They shat the bed—let them clean it.
I stood.
Time to greet the victor.
"Great work."
"All thanks to you, young master. This win's yours."
"No need. You earned it through that hellish training. Claim it fully."
"Thank you."
Palgap handed him dumplings—prepped ahead.
Rage bursts leave you starving.
"Eat up."
"Thanks. Dig in."
He wolfed them down.
Starved. Two bursts, after all.
"By the way."
"Yes?"
"That final burst—how?"
"Gack! *Cough* *Cough*!"
He choked on a dumpling, gulping tea frantically.
I tilted my head.
What?
Why this feeling I asked something I shouldn't have?