Reincarnation of the Fist King Chapter 31

<The King of Fists, the Rat Soaked in the Rain>

A sky full of dark clouds followed Danwoo.

The rain fell and stopped repeatedly, but then fell again in torrential downpours not far from the top of the galaxy.

Dan Woo-seong, who had returned from a forced march with light-hearted training, was staring blankly at the man being chased from afar.

What on earth did he do that he's being chased by dozens of people?

Maybe it wasn't an accident.

Because his life was originally like this.

The rain-soaked Dokjongho-ri Cheolmyeongho ran away making a splashing sound and found Danwoo-seong.

After barely making eye contact, we ran off into the rain.

Then, dozens of men appeared with a loud noise and hurriedly chased after Cheol Myeong-ho.

Dan Woo-seong turned his head and gazed blankly at the pursuer and the pursued. Cheol Myeong-ho disappeared into the alleyway, a thud was heard for a moment, and then Dan Woo-seong appeared from where he was standing, desperately calling his friend's name.

“Oh, it’s been a while. Is it raining a lot?”

Cheol Myeong-ho, panting for breath, looked at Dan Woo-seong through the rain. He looked not like Dokjong-ho, but like a wet rat.

Danwoo Seong said.

“I live a busy life.”

“I’m always like that. I’m busy.”

Then, with a rumbling noise, those pursuing the Iron Man arrived belatedly. It seemed they'd lost sight of him and had returned from afar. Most of the pursuers looked exhausted. Unable to rush in, they hunched over, frowning.

Even in the midst of all this, Cheol Myeong-ho did not ask for his life and just stared blankly.

Danwoo Seong spoke to Cheolmyeongho first.

“Please use an umbrella.”

“Oh, thank you.”

Cheol Myeong-ho entered the umbrella, swallowed hard, and looked at the group of pursuers, while also checking Dan Woo-seong's expression.

Cheol Myeong-ho spat out a curse.

“Those damn bastards, they follow me so well.”

Danwooseong was seeing them for the first time. Their identities wouldn't be much different. I assumed they were like Cheolmyeongho from another region. Those who had joined later arrived, lined up, and examined Danwooseong.

A man said, holding out a knife.

“Send that kid here. Don’t get involved in unnecessary matters and end up bleeding.”

Danwoo-seong spoke to Cheolmyeong-ho while observing the crowd that had gathered.

“Is your hand better?”

Cheol Myeong-ho replied, slightly extending his bandaged hand.

“No. He’s still a cripple.”

Somehow, the tone was one of relief that he was a cripple. Dan Woo-sung couldn't help but laugh.

Danwoosung spoke to those who had gathered.

"They don't seem to be from this area, so I'll explain it to you. When Cheolmyeongho's hands are fine, we'll attack. Get out of here today."

A man replied.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Cheol Myeong-ho chuckled and pointed at the group of pursuers.

"Hey, my friend showed mercy. Get out while I'm talking nicely. I've memorized all your faces, so wait. I'll come find you."

Danwoo Seong asked.

“Where are those guys?”

"It's the Red-Eye Alliance. I used to run an auction business, too. I went to sort out the books after a long time, and they stole everything. Those bastards are like thieves…"

Danwoo asked something important.

“Is it black?”

Cheol Myeong-ho replied.

“Then it must be Baekdo.”

Even while we were having a conversation, the reason why the guys belonging to the Red Alliance couldn't easily attack was simple.

It was because the atmosphere of Danwooseong felt oppressive. In the martial world, it was commonplace for people to slash at the wrong person and end up slaughtered, and the black path within it was even more so.

Still, these guys were the kind of people you'd have to take a stab at to see if they were shit or soybean paste. The leader of the group shoved the back of one of his subordinates next to him. The startled man leapt forward and swung his sword at Danwoo Sung.

At that moment, the man who was kicked with a pop sound flew through the air, hit a wall, and stopped moving after a thud sound.

The colleagues' gazes were fixed on the man, who appeared to be either unconscious or dead.

Danwoo Seong said.

"Guys, I'm so hungry, if we fight now, I think we'll all die. See you next time. Either Cheolmyeongho goes, or I go."

At the word "let's meet again," a rumbling sound was heard again, and they all ran away in a group. Then, two men returned, picked up the man who had been hit by Danwoo Sung, and ran away.

Dan Woo-seong didn't kill anyone just because they were black. This was a decision based on experience. Even black people often have manly men. Cheol Myeong-ho, who had been unknowingly thrown to the side during a kick, spoke to Dan Woo-seong as he was hit again by the rain.

"Buy me some food. I'm hungry too. Noodles are fine. You stole my noodles last time, didn't you? I didn't nearly get beaten to death by you that day; I almost died from hunger. Damn it, I should've eaten and gotten treatment…"

He could have just asked her to buy it for him, but Dan Woo-seong was taken aback when she mentioned the noodles he had stolen from her last time.

“You too.”

“What am I.”

“He’s really crazy.”

“Let’s go. The noodles are from Jinpyeong Noodles.”

.

.

.

Cheol Myeong-ho drank the soup down, holding the bowl in one hand. With a bang, he put the bowl down and spoke.

“On a rainy day, it’s Jinpyeong noodles.”

Cheol Myeong-ho looked at Dan Woo-seong's expression and then said while pointing two fingers at Jeom So-i.

“Here, give me two more bowls.”

Danwoo's bowl of noodles was also neatly emptied. The two people, who had briefly watched the rain, began eating the newly delivered noodles in silence. The sound of the rain mixed with the slurping sound.

After a while, both people finished their noodle soup at the same time.

This time, Cheol Myeong-ho was slow again. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he spoke with a puzzled expression.

"Have you established a branch of the Gaebang (幇) gang in your stomach? I've never seen anyone eat better than me. The guy who always ate like a slurp… Anyway, he's changed. Hey, people shouldn't change so abruptly. You should live according to nature."

Cheol Myeong-ho looked at Jeom So-yi and held up two fingers again.

“Here, give me two more bowls.”

Only after the two had thoroughly emptied their three bowls did they return to watching the rain. The rain poured down relentlessly, just like Dokjonghori's personality. Cheolmyeongho, who had been watching the downpour with Danwoosung for a long time, asked.

“Are you okay, Ssangbo?”

“I’m doing well.”

“What are you doing there?”

"training."

"They must have gotten stronger. Those guys' food costs must be really high. They're not humans, they're food demons. Food demons······."

“I have a lot of money.”

"Oh, I forgot. That's right. I had a hand in that too. I just threw it all together."

As Cheol Myeong-ho chuckled, Dan Woo-seong asked.

“So, are you a beggar now?”

“No, but please buy me some noodles.”

Cheol Myeong-ho scratched his forehead with one finger and asked a question.

"By the way, how do I learn proper martial arts? The Taoism I've learned seems so crude. It doesn't work very well."

“Why martial arts?”

"Why? I was wondering if I could deal with the Red Sword if I learned martial arts. There are so many Red Sword subordinates, after all. I'm confident in one-on-one combat. But you know what I saw earlier. They always swarm you when you fight. They're not beggars. They're too busy running away."

Danwoo Seong asked.

“Teach me?”

Cheol Myeong-ho responded with a slightly surprised expression.

“No, what… I would be grateful if you could teach me.”

Danwoo Seong spoke while deliberately looking into Cheolmyeongho's eyes.

“Are you going to do as I teach you?”

Cheol Myeong-ho answered without thinking.

“Oh, of course.”

“Are you sure?”

"Oh, you don't know my personality? I'm Dokjongho-ri, Cheolmyeongho. Why is the Grand Duke acting like this?"

Danwoo Sung said, pointing to the floor next to the table.

“Try to lift the temple once.”

Cheol Myeong-ho responded with an annoyed expression.

“Oh, this kid is so annoying. At the noodle restaurant······. Tsk.”

Cheol Myeong-ho immediately got up, went to the table, bowed once, then got up and sat down again as if nothing had happened.

Cheol Myeong-ho threatened.

“Anyway, just don’t teach me. I’ll shit myself in front of the Milky Way’s main gate.”

Danwoo Sung lifted the iron umbrella that was standing next to the table with his right hand and demonstrated it by slowly performing a simple downward swing.

In the second demonstration, he pointed out the position and angle of the elbow, as if asking people to remember the height at which they raised their arms while holding an umbrella.

And then it struck again.

He pointed to several places with his finger as if to ask me to remember the shape of my arm when the movement was over.

As Danwoo-seong put the umbrella back up, Cheolmyeong-ho shouted.

"Is that the end? I stole once! Go ahead and poop right now!"

Danwoo-seong said this while hitting Cheolmyeong-ho's head hard enough to make a loud bang.

“Shut up, you punk. Hold the umbrella. With one hand.”

Cheol Myeong-ho held the iron umbrella with his one good hand, but his expression suddenly distorted.

“Why is it so heavy?”

Cheol Myeong-ho's arms were trembling.

Danwoo Seong blurted out some truly frightening words.

"I can't give it back since it's a gift. Borrow it and repeat exactly what I just did a hundred thousand times, then bring it back. As soon as possible. If you're going to do it in time, forget about martial arts."

Cheol Myeong-ho asked politely.

“Your Highness, how many times?”

“A hundred thousand times.”

“Not a thousand times, not ten thousand times, but a hundred thousand times?”

Danwoo Seong replied in a pitiful tone.

“Why is your tongue so long, Dokjongho-ri? If you can’t do it, put down your umbrella and get lost, you idiot.”

Cheol Myeong-ho asked as he put down his umbrella.

“Are you serious?”

As soon as he finished speaking, Danwoo Seong grabbed Cheolmyeongho by the collar.

"hey······."

"why."

"You little brats, do you think you can kill someone by learning a few gesticulating, playful gestures? A hundred thousand times seems like a lot, doesn't it? If you swung that umbrella a hundred thousand times, you could have killed at least half of those idiots with just a wooden sword. What were you doing just now? You were running away like a wet rat. Myung-ho, don't live a miserable life. Just die, you punk."

“······I don’t want to die.”

When Cheol Myeong-ho answered, Dan Woo-seong released his collar.

The two people glared at each other as before.

Danwoo Seong said.

"Are you a rat or a hawk? Know your place and live. Don't just talk nonsense."

Cheol Myeong-ho turned his head without saying anything and looked at the pouring rain.

Before he knew it, his eyes were red. Cheol Myeong-ho turned his head and watched the rain in silence until his bloodshot eyes returned to normal.

In the meantime, Danwoo Seong didn't say anything either.

After a while, the rain that had been pouring down so heavily began to gradually stop, and a light drizzle was blowing in the wind, making it unnecessary to use an umbrella.

Cheol Myeong-ho, who confirmed that the rain had stopped, turned his head and spoke to Dan Woo-seong.

“Can I borrow your umbrella?”

Dan Woo-seong gestured with his chin, as if telling him to take it. Cheol Myeong-ho left the noodle shop, still clutching the umbrella. Even Dan Woo-seong couldn't tell where he was going, as he was battered by the wind and drizzle.

As Danwoo-seong got up and approached to pay for the noodles, Jeomsoi asked cautiously.

“Confucius, the calculations are the same as those of a friend······.”

Danwoo Seong, who had handed over the money, looked at Jeomsoi and nodded slightly.

<The King of Fists, the Rat Soaked in the Rain> End

ⓒ Eugene Sung

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