Who the Hell Are You? (2)
****
“There was another wild boar, huh.”
Jang Gwal remarked with an intrigued look, reminded of the boar they had hunted earlier by Cheol U’s massive frame and fearless movements.
Cheol U threw a brutish punch.
Pung Yo-sang, sensing the punch carried no ordinary power, thrust his pipe at him.
The pipe grazed past Cheol U’s fist, aiming for his nape.
The pipe’s swift strike toward Cheol U’s nape suddenly faltered. Then it bounced back as if hitting an invisible barrier.
Pung Yo-sang’s face stiffened rigidly. He had been certain that one strike would end Cheol U’s life. He never imagined it would be blocked by protective aura.
If the protective aura could nullify an attack infused with at least a jia’s worth of internal energy, it meant the opponent was a master with at least that much skill himself.
“You’re no ordinary bastard!”
Pung Yo-sang bellowed boldly as he drew up his full power.
His frame was dwarfed by Cheol U’s hulking build, but the aura rising from his entire body was anything but insignificant.
“An amusing old coot.”
Cheol U, deeming Pung Yo-sang’s presence comparable to the countless demonic experts he had felled before, casually rolled his shoulders to loosen up.
Unlike Cheol U, who exuded a relaxed air as if inviting an attack anytime, Pung Yo-sang hesitated, unable to strike recklessly despite seeing so many obvious openings.
“You gonna come or not?”
Pung Yo-sang’s body reacted instantly to Cheol U’s mocking tone.
The distance between them was about three zhang. But to these two, it meant nothing.
The moment he thought to move, Pung Yo-sang was already in Cheol U’s face, thrusting his pipe.
The thrust was one motion, but the pipe targeted eight lethal acupoints in total.
He felt fierce resistance through the pipe.
Pung Yo-sang, who had poured nearly two jia of power into this attack, cheered inwardly as the resistance vanished in an instant.
He saw Cheol U’s fist flying late, but it was nothing more than a final spasm.
“It’s over.”
The same words slipped from Sima Geon and Jang Gwal’s mouths as they watched the duel.
The outcome was nothing like what they expected.
“Krahk!”
Jang Gwal cried out in a short scream and caught Pung Yo-sang’s flying body.
He staggered back several steps from the force carried in Pung Yo-sang’s body, a groan escaping him involuntarily.
“What the hell...”
Jang Gwal stared in disbelief at Pung Yo-sang, who was vomiting blood.
“M-monster... be careful...”
Pung Yo-sang clutched Jang Gwal’s arm but fainted before finishing.
As Jang Gwal stood stunned at how Pung Yo-sang had crumbled powerlessly despite striking first, Cheol U—who had neutralized him in a single blow—frowned in dissatisfaction and clicked his tongue.
“Boss, has my skill dulled? Or is that old man just that strong?”
Cheol U asked just in case, but the reply was cold.
“Seems your skill has weakened.”
“Damn it! I thought so too. Definitely rusty. Guess pigs aren’t enough practice after all.”
Neung Wi and Neung Sa-jong, who had been checking Pung Yo-sang, were speechless at Cheol U’s sigh. Jang Gwal too.
They had seen it clearly.
The pipe that should have pierced Cheol U’s protective aura, straight through the heart to end his life, had been blocked by mere human flesh and snapped powerlessly.
Followed by a devastating counterpunch.
Even as Pung Yo-sang instinctively raised his arm to block, he took a fatal wound.
His left arm shattered on impact with the fist, the bone fragments piercing into his chest and pulverizing his heart and lungs. He clung to life by a thread, but recovery was impossible.
A Green Forest elder, a master who could boast anywhere in the martial world, shattered in one blow. And the one who did it was whining that his own skill had dulled. It was so absurd it was infuriating.
“Who the hell are you bastards?”
A terrifying killing intent poured from Jang Gwal, seething with rage.
“Are you deaf? We told you. You don’t need to know. What matters is that the old man’s a Gold Tiger Stronghold bandit.”
Jang Gwal took a short breath.
He wanted to dismiss it as youthful bravado, but the opponent’s skill was far too superior.
He had to give it everything. Or he’d end up like Pung Yo-sang.
“Tahaap!”
With a mighty shout, Jang Gwal’s fist flew toward Cheol U’s chest.
Cheol U could feel the punch’s power was no joke. His Overlord Blood Victory Qi could block it easily, and he could counter with Ink Gang Asura Qi right after. But he changed his mind.
Cheol U’s body tilted left, then flowed like water to evade Jang Gwal’s fist. At the same time, his own fist shot toward Jang Gwal.
Overlord Sixteen Fists.
A chain attack based on Overlord Blood Victory Qi, unleashing sixteen punches in a single motion.
Factoring in the feints hidden between, it was no exaggeration to call it a storm.
Jang Gwal twisted desperately in horror at Cheol U’s counter.
He hurriedly punched to block the attacks squeezing from all sides, but perfectly defending a chain assault in one breath was impossible.
Thud! Thud!
Two fist strikes slammed into Jang Gwal’s body.
“Kuhuk!”
A scream burst from his mouth.
As Jang Gwal spat bright red blood and reeled back, Cheol U’s gaze turned not to him, but to Neung Wi’s subordinates charging at him.
Led by Vice Chief Patrol Yeom Heuk, their faces were filled with fear and terror despite following orders.
Even if compelled by duty, they had witnessed two Green Forest elders—their sky-like pillars—fall without landing a proper blow. Their reaction was natural.
Yeom Heuk’s sword, demonic as a ghost’s, lunged for Cheol U’s throat, flanked by synchronized attacks from both sides.
Five swords pierced toward Cheol U’s throat, heart, and dantian.
Yet the attackers’ faces showed not joy of success, but bewilderment.
They had clearly stabbed Cheol U’s body.
But the sensation through their blades was utterly alien.
Not like flesh, but like stabbing a massive boulder.
“Like damn flies.”
Cheol U swung his fist irritably.
“D-dodge!”
Yeom Heuk, who had “succeeded” first, sensed the overwhelming force and screamed in panic.
Before his cry ended, Cheol U’s fist swept through everything.
There was no time or space to evade.
They could only swing their swords with a sliver of hope from lifelong training.
Realizing it was futile took but an instant.
Feeling like a giant hammer smashed him, Yeom Heuk flew back powerlessly, grazed past the terrified Neung Wi, soared another ten-odd zhang, and slammed into a tree, dying on impact.
He wasn’t the only one.
All who attacked Cheol U met the same end without exception.
With one counter, Cheol U slew eleven including Yeom Heuk, then advanced on Jang Gwal.
About ten foes still encircled him, but Cheol U didn’t care a whit.
Heads bowed, frozen in deathly fear, they could do nothing.
Regaining a brief respite from his men’s sacrifice, Jang Gwal glared murderously at the approaching Cheol U.
Seeing that gaze, Cheol U sneered.
“Still haven’t given up, huh. Good spirit.”
“Shut up! I admit you’re strong. But I won’t die alone.”
Before Jang Gwal finished, he charged.
It was the Great Force Collapsing Fist, which earned him the moniker Mighty Overlord.
The Great Force Collapsing Fist unleashed in defiance of death held earth-shaking power.
“That’s what you think, old man.”
Cheol U smirked coldly and swung his fist.
The immense forces of Great Force Collapsing Fist and Overlord Thirteen Fists clashed head-on, exploding with a boom. A massive gust swirled around them.
Unable to withstand the shockwave, Jang Gwal spat blood again and staggered back.
Cheol U pursued leisurely, pressing with more punches.
Jang Gwal’s body swayed from a chest strike, then his torso folded from an abdominal blow, launching him into the air.
Cheol U followed mid-air with his massive frame and stomped down with his left foot.
With a sound of splitting flesh, Jang Gwal’s body hurtled toward Neung Wi.
Startled, Neung Wi dodged hastily. Jang Gwal’s corpse crashed where he stood, mangled beyond recognition.
“Slippery bastard. Didn’t expect you to dodge to save your own skin.”
Cheol U, who had aimed to take out Neung Wi with Jang Gwal, clicked his tongue and approached.
Neung Wi unwittingly stepped back, then stopped as something blocked him.
Turning slowly, he saw Neung Sa-jong impaled on a tree, hands clasped around his sword in death.
When Cheol U moved to attack Jang Gwal again after slaying Yeom Heuk and a dozen subordinates, Neung Sa-jong had tried to aid the endangered Jang Gwal.
One-on-one was proven futile, but together they might hold. Stall until reinforcements from Gold Tiger Stronghold, he thought.
Though a target himself, Stronghold Leader No Geuk was no pushover, nor his men. United, they could fell this foe.
As Neung Sa-jong stepped toward Cheol U, a chill made him turn.
A sword hurtled at terrifying speed.
Instinct moved his hand to clasp it like prayer hands. But the force was beyond him.
He backpedaled, channeling all his energy to offset it, but failed.
Back against a massive tree, Neung Sa-jong couldn’t move further. The sword pierced his chest, embedded in the trunk, and stopped.
Neung Wi’s gaze shifted to Sima Geon, standing calmly with hands behind his back.
He recalled Sima Geon advising Cheol U—monster who toyed with Green Forest elders like children—that his skill had slipped.
Trembling in utmost terror, as Cheol U finished the rest and grabbed his nape.
“This one’s the last. What do you say, boss?”
Cheol U asked Sima Geon.
Sima Geon turned away indifferently. He was already annoyed at the delay from these unexpected foes.
Feeling Cheol U’s grip tighten, Neung Wi thrashed desperately and shouted.
“I-I’m the son... of the Green... Forest... Chief Stronghold Leader.”
Cheol U tilted his head and loosened his grip. Sima Geon glanced back mid-turn.
“What’d you babble?”
Sensing this pivotal moment between life and death, Neung Wi spoke carefully.
“The Green Forest Chief Stronghold Leader... is my father.”
“That’s what he says, boss.”
Cheol U looked to Sima Geon for input.
Sima Geon’s cold eyes fixed on the frantically scheming Neung Wi.
“Does it matter?”
At Sima Geon’s retort, Cheol U chuckled.
“Nah.”
That was it.
As horrified Neung Wi opened his mouth, Cheol U’s grip crushed his throat. He died without a word.
Cheol U tossed the limp corpse aside and caught up to Sima Geon, muttering.
“Gotta enjoy these little thrills sometimes.”