Reincarnation of the Fist King Chapter 41

< King of Fist, Enjoy the Eve of the Festival >

Danwoo Seong watched the eve of the festival with his arms crossed.

A thought suddenly occurred to me. If the demons had resurfaced, I briefly wondered if they might have come to witness the Dragon and Phoenix Festival, given their recent actions. After all, their identities hadn't been revealed.

But that wasn't very likely.

Their level was too high.

If we combine the words of the leader Yoo Jeong-hong and the experiences of Dan Woo-seong himself, we can draw this conclusion.

This time, when Mado appears, he will create a strong being that can handle all three gods and goddesses.

It felt like we were competing to see who could get stronger faster, out of sight of each other.

Danwoo Sung continued his external training while listening to the commotion of the eve of the festival with the window open.

He's not the type of man to open such a harsh path to martial arts for Cheol Myeong-ho, only to find himself alone and comfortable. By the time Cheol Myeong-ho returns after practicing the Samjae Sword Technique a million times, Dan Woo-seong will have completed even more rigorous training.

After a while, the sound of weapons clashing was heard, and I didn't feel bored even while practicing external skills.

This was Danwoo Seong's way of enjoying the festival.

It wasn't simply a muscle-building exercise. I practiced balancing upside down on one hand, or placing both hands on the floor and holding until my body lost its balance.

Danwoosung does not use a weapon.

In order for swordsmen, swordsmen, and magicians to seize the unexpected moment during a battle and use it as a springboard for a comeback, it is advantageous for the body itself to be incredibly flexible and free enough to break free from its usual thinking.

He was called the King of Power, but······.

You can't beat all the masters with just punches.

I wasn't going to neglect my research on martial arts. The stronger your martial arts, the more effectively you can utilize your internal energy. Most masters could be defeated with a combination of martial arts and external energy.

Danwoo Sung had intended to win the Yongbongdaeyeon.

A fight that required minimal use of internal energy. As the three fights unfolded on the eve of the festival, everyone burst into laughter. Then, to Danwoo Sung's surprise, Cheolmyeongho's voice pierced his ears.

“Don’t laugh. Do I look funny?”

“You’ve been swearing a lot lately. Why don’t you show us your umbrella skills?”

“I can’t show it to you carelessly because I’m training.”

Again laughter erupted from all sides.

Danwoo Seong relaxed his posture and stood up.

'That kid, he can't concentrate.'

Looking out the window, he saw Cheol Myung-ho at the center stage of the eve of the festival. Dan Woo-sung couldn't understand this, but Cheol Myung-ho felt wronged.

While shoving through the crowd to find lodging, he got into an argument with someone who stepped on his foot and hit his shoulder. As Cheol Myung-ho let out a torrent of insults, a man pushed him onto center stage.

“That guy’s weapon is an umbrella.”

“Wow… That’s amazing. An umbrella? Show me your tricks.”

Cheol Myeong-ho's expression was truly a sight to behold. Even in the midst of his fever, he was smiling like a devil. He looked around and said this.

“Why? Didn’t the martial arts league ban the use of umbrellas as weapons?”

Danwoo Sung also smiled faintly.

'Anyway, that crazy kid.'

Regardless of whether his martial arts skills were strong or weak, Cheol Myeong-ho's attitude remained consistent. Where was this place? Even in the martial arts alliance, where masters abounded, he remained the same.

Cheol Myeong-ho looked around the room while holding out his umbrella and said.

"Okay. I'll give it a try just this once. I'm Cheolmyeongho, who's trained in downstroke for sixty days. If you're confident, come and see for yourself."

A man asked.

"Sixty days of downhill fighting? That's a bit much. With that kind of skill, you're going to participate in the Yongbongdaeyeon?"

“I never said I would do it. Don’t make it up.”

“Listen. Is that true? Have you only practiced downward strikes?”

Cheol Myeong-ho replied.

“No? Today, I learned crosscuts and stabbing techniques from Master.”

"Are you talking about the Samjae Sword Technique? You must have had a truly amazing master who taught you something that anyone can do."

Cheol Myeong-ho replied.

“No? Not just anyone can do it.”

'I'm thinking of doing it a million times…'

How can the atmosphere be like this?

Every time Cheol Myeong-ho told the truth, people laughed.

Danwoo-seong gazed at this curious friend with a gentle smile. It felt incredibly awkward for him to call him "master," but having been taught by the King of Fist, he was also his disciple.

“You’re so low. Gentlemen, this Yang family will deal with that guy.”

The man with the window said as he walked out.

"I am Yang Il-ho, a master of the Yangga singing method. I was reluctant to participate because I felt my skills were lacking, but I will do my best to prevent the man with the umbrella from participating in the Yongbongdaeyeon main event."

Cheol Myeong-ho didn't even show any courtesy. Yang Il-ho, who had been the only one offering a courtesy, blushed and ran out swinging his spear.

Boohoo!

Then, Cheol Myeong-ho, holding an umbrella, began to run away in circles. It was a horrific scene, one that could hardly be called a martial artist.

“Hahahahahaha······.”

For those watching, this fight was also an enjoyable spectacle.

By the way, Yang Il-ho, who was chasing after her, was blushing in embarrassment.

Danwoo Seong was watching with his arms crossed and an indifferent expression.

Among all these people, Dan Woo-seong was the only one who knew that Cheol Myeong-ho was not a man who would just run away.

Yang Il-ho shouted.

“Look here! Stop running away······.”

When Yang Il-ho couldn't control his temper and shouted, Cheol Myeong-ho suddenly turned around and rushed at him recklessly, as if blocking the spear with his entire body.

As Yang Il-ho, startled, held out his spear, Cheol Myeong-ho caught the spear that was coming towards him dangerously in his left side, and aimed for Yang Il-ho's crown with a downward swing that he had swung a hundred thousand times.

Yang Il-ho was startled and raised his arm to block it.

Bam-!

“Ugh!”

He underestimated the weight of the iron umbrella. It instantly broke Yang Il-ho's wrist, then struck him in the head, knocking him unconscious with a single blow.

Whether it was the guy who fainted or the guy who hit him, they were both surprised.

When Yang Il-ho fainted and fell down······.

Cheol Myeong-ho looked at the inside of his arm and side. A thin stream of red blood was seeping out of his clothes, having been brushed against the window.

As expected of a monopoly, he had the spirit of a gambler.

Considering the time I was beaten by my friend, this level of injury was really minor.

People chattered in surprise, while others laughed at Yang Il-ho for letting his guard down. One master explained what he had seen to his disciple.

“······If you let your guard down, that’s what happens.”

Meanwhile, Cheol Myeong-ho said.

"I was lucky. My skills are lacking, so I'll stop here."

Danwoo-seong smiled.

Anyone can see that Yang Il-ho's skill is superior. However, matches often end this way: the man who lets his guard down loses.

As Cheol Myeong-ho tried to leave the awkward stage and went to the crowded place, he was unfortunately met by a crowd that refused to give way to Cheol Myeong-ho.

The man at the center of the group spoke with a displeased expression.

“I don’t want to give you the road because you seem to lack manners and skills.”

Then, Cheol Myeong-ho glared at the man with a murderous gaze.

“Really? Then let’s try again.”

I wasn't afraid of defeat, but I couldn't stand being ignored by others.

The man replied with a smile.

“Do you know who I am?”

Cheol Myeong-ho replied.

“What do you know? I didn’t even give my full name.”

puck!

The man kicked Cheol Myung-ho in the stomach, sending him flying in a single bound. It was a kick Cheol Myung-ho couldn't dodge. The man deliberately made the kick soft, hoping Cheol Myung-ho would get up and attack again.

The man said as he approached Cheol Myeong-ho.

“I am Cao Asol of the Wolf Fist.”

Cheol Myeong-ho, clutching his stomach, muttered in a small voice.

“Huh, that nickname is so fucking childish. It’s so funny, my stomach hurts even more.”

When Cheol Myeong-ho started to grumble, Jo Ah-sol shouted.

“What did you just say! Get up!”

As Cheol Myeong-ho got up, he kept his mouth shut.

“Fuck, when are you going to wake up when I kick you?”

Those who were watching burst into laughter at Cheol Myeong-ho's words.

“Hahahaha······.”

“I’ll crush that snout first.”

Cheol Myeong-ho had completely forgotten Dan Woo-sung's advice to be careful with his words to the people of Gangho. This was Cheol Myeong-ho, too.

Cheol Myeong-ho instinctively observed Jo Ah-sol's prayer, his iron umbrella aimed at him. It was true that Byul-ho was childish, but he was undoubtedly stronger than him. He also knew he wouldn't let his guard down like the unconscious Yang Il-ho.

Without realizing it, the tip of my umbrella trembled.

You look nervous.

And because of that tension, anger welled up inside me.

'I should have swung and fought not a hundred thousand times, but a million times······.'

At that moment, the sound of fluttering clothes was heard in the air.

Danwoo-seong, who had been silently watching until now, flew Shinhyeong through the window and landed, taking up the center where Joa-sol and Cheolmyeong-ho were facing each other.

No matter how you looked at it, Cheol Myeong-ho was no match for Jo Ah-sol. Because he had been carelessly playing with his tongue, it was obvious that Jo Ah-sol, who was using his fists, would beat him to the point where no part of his body was intact.

Cheol Myeong-ho was startled and said to Dan Woo-seong.

“What? Why did you come down?”

Danwoo Seong replied.

“Enjoy the eve.”

Cheol Myeong-ho stepped back, his smile fading so much that the scar on his cheek was no longer visible. Then he tilted his head to the side and looked at Jo Ah-sol with a teasing gaze.

'Hey, you're fucked now.'

Joa Sol said while glaring at Dan Woo Sung.

“Who are you to suddenly intervene?”

Danwoo Sung left the other person speechless with a truly simple answer.

“I am a participant in the Yongbongdaeyeon.”

Cheol Myeong-ho responded as if breathing in unison.

"What are you going to do? I told you I'm not even a participant in the Yongbong Festival. You're picking a fight."

Danwoo Seong turned around, slightly raised his chin, and looked at Joa Sol.

Cheol Myeong-ho felt his blood boil just by looking at Dan Woo-seong's broad back. The man who had been most inspired by this eve of the festival was undoubtedly Cheol Myeong-ho. He'd been lucky, but he'd also managed to knock out the spearman, and he'd tasted the joy of victory.

Cheol Myeong-ho was overcome with a strange feeling, and shivers ran through his body.

"Being strong is wonderful. Ah, it's the greatest thing in the world."

The moment Jo Ah-sol saw Dan Woo-seong, he felt nervous. However, with the expectations of the military on his shoulders, backing down would have been humiliating.

Joa Sol said.

“Okay. Let’s try it.”

Dan Woo-seong and Jo Ah-sol stared at each other, motionless. Dan Woo-seong kept his eyes fixed on Jo Ah-sol, keeping martial arts in mind.

Jo Ah-sol stared at Dan Woo-seong and realized a cold sweat was running down her back. She had no idea how strong he was. But she didn't see any weaknesses either. As she pondered her attack path, she realized she was being psychologically outmaneuvered.

Joa Sol leaned forward, leaning forward with a forceful motion as if throwing a stone, and extended his right fist with a truly powerful punch.

As Danwoo Sung extended his right hand in exactly the same motion, his two arms crossed, tangled, as if aiming at each other's faces.

When Danwooseong's stride was longer and it felt like he was digging in······.

Danwoo Sung pushed the opponent's arm up with his shoulder, grabbed Joa Sol's back of the neck with his left hand, and made her spin around in the air at incredible speed before slamming her into the ground.

puck!

Then, as soon as Danwoo Sung pressed Joa Sol down with his knee, he struck the side of Joa Sol's face with a powerful blow that seemed to shatter the ground.

Kwaaaaaaaang!

Joa Sol didn't even get hit by a punch, but her eyes suddenly went blank and she fainted.

The fear of death that had suddenly struck me led to fainting.

As Danwoo-seong rose, the eve of the festival became quiet.

<End of the King Enjoying the Eve of the Festival>

ⓒ Eugene Sung

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