Reincarnation of the Fist King Chapter 86

< King of Fist, Birds of a Feather 1 >

“Ouch, let’s go.”

After washing themselves in the waterfall, Gwangsin and Danwoo returned to their quarters. They had planned to leave again, so they changed into gray clothes and tidied up their quarters.

“The Baekryongmunju was supposed to come and say hello. Is that okay?”

Gwangsin looked back at Danwooseong.

"Yeonwol? What good could the Baekryongmunju have from seeing me? If we continue on in the martial world, we'll meet someday. People are destined to meet anyway."

Still, Gwangsin seemed to be slightly concerned and left a short note on the table.

The letter was extremely simple.

"Wol-ah (月兒), see you in the world of martial arts. Madness."

Since the magician appeared, it meant that the fanatics would move, and it also meant that the Baekryongmun would begin its activities and meet along the way.

On the way down Cheongyaksan Mountain, Gwangsin asked.

"Aww, isn't there a good way to summon those rats? If what you say is true, they won't show up easily. They were wiped out once at the foot of Cheongyak Mountain, after all."

Danwoo Seong replied.

"There are many ways. And since you're here with me, I'm sure I'll be able to catch some fish."

“For example.”

After collecting his thoughts for a moment, Danwoo Sung replied.

"My friend is the eldest son of the Seopungpyo Kingdom, a nation with little connection to the martial arts world. And I'm the son of the Eunha Sangdan. Of course, I have connections with the Murim Alliance. I received their help. Therefore, if the Eunha Sangdan sends supplies as a token of gratitude, it would be natural for the Seopungpyo Kingdom to send them to the Murim Alliance. After all, I'm the son of the Sangdan, and my friend is the son of the Pyo Kingdom. The supplies might include weapons and equipment, and there might be ample support funds. The Pyo missions are filled with carefully selected elites… My brother and I are among them, of course. If this happens, the Black Sword, the bandits, and the Magic Sword will be involved. In any case, there will be those who don't want the supplies we send going to the Murim Alliance."

“What a sweet gesture.”

"Yes. If there are no interruptions, I will send the supplies to the Murim Alliance as is. In any case, I believe that Lord Yu is in dire need of supplies as well. What do you think?"

The fanatic nodded.

“Not bad. You or I can just vote.”

“Yes.”

The fanatic smiled brightly.

He was already a fanatic who had grown much younger thanks to a connection with the natural liquor. Even if he were the leader of the West Wind Kingdom, there was no way anyone in the martial world would recognize him.

The fanatic said.

"In that case, it would be best to take things slow. As if you were only going by safe routes."

"I command the Palryongmun, a former Black Power faction. We can spread the word about the Pyohaeng through them. We will continue to refine the details and personnel involved in the Pyohaeng."

The fanatic nodded as if satisfied.

"It's so refreshing, Kang Ho. Well then, let's go see the world and then head over to your house."

The grand plan was finally decided upon. Gwangsin looked at Danwooseong and said:

"I'm surprised you're the son of a nobleman. I thought you were the son of a Sega or Muga. You're amazing."

Gwangsin seemed to find it very surprising that Danwoosung had grown so much despite not being the successor to a sect or a family.

The two of them didn't rush their journey to the upper reaches of the galaxy. They secretly hoped they'd be caught in a spell along the way.

Thus, the old man and the young man began their journey across the rivers and lakes. On their way back, Dan Woo-seong deliberately stopped by the Taeho Merchant Association to check on the group's safety and return Pan-Gwan-pil. Now, Dan Woo-seong's position within the Taeho Merchant Association was that of a literal stepson. Even during his one-day stay with the unidentified Gwangsin, he was treated with the utmost respect. There was another reason for his visit. The Taeho Merchant Association had burned through the money Dan Woo-seong had given him during his martial arts demonstration. He awkwardly explained the situation and received a generous refund.

If Dan Woo-seong were alone, he would have just gone, but Dan Woo-seong thought that he would need to have some money to take good care of Gwang-sin on his trip.

Of course, Taeho Sangdanju was not the type of person who could afford to save money like that.

Thanks to this, the journey to the upper reaches of the galaxy was relatively leisurely. The rejuvenated Kwangsin's mood grew brighter, and Danwoosung also returned, immersed in practicing Oryoshinkong whenever he had time.

.

.

.

Danwoo Sung briefly looked at Cheolmyeongho's underground training ground while returning to the upper reaches of the galaxy.

The fanatic asked.

“Why? Is anyone there?”

"Oh, there's a guy I'd like to take to the exhibition. Would you like to meet him? He's a friend of mine and a training enthusiast."

“Since you’re a training fanatic… let’s go.”

Danwoo Seong and Gwangshin went down to the underground training ground.

It had been quite some time since I'd seen Cheol Myeong-ho. As luck would have it, he was kneeling in the center of the underground training grounds, eyes closed. His serious demeanor almost made him look like a great swordsman.

Whenever Cheol Myung-ho took a break from training, he would close his eyes and replay his past battles. Cheol Myung-ho was winning more and more of his battles against the Palryongmun. This victory was partly due to the elixir he had received from the Palryongmun master, and partly due to his ability to apply the Samjae Sword Technique in actual combat. Above all, he possessed exceptional talent in the areas of fighting and competitive spirit.

That's why, whenever he closed his eyes like this, Cheol Myeong-ho was intoxicated with the joy of his victory.

Cheol Myeong-ho felt that the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs was different than usual, so he closed his eyes and tried to guess who the visitor was.

Cheol Myeong-ho spoke in a calm tone.

“You’re here.”

Danwoo-seong tilted his head.

“It’s me. Who is the Eight Dragon Gate Master?”

“I went back to Palryongmun for a moment because I had something to take care of.”

“Why is the atmosphere so solemn today? Are you a swindler?”

Cheol Myeong-ho chuckled.

“No way.”

Danwoo Sung and Gwangshin stood nearby, arms linked, gazing at Cheolmyeongho. Gwangshin suddenly glanced at Danwoo Sung and asked.

“What kind of guy is that?”

Gwangsin was a man who expressed his true feelings out loud.

Danwoo Seong replied.

“First of all, he’s the craziest guy in this neighborhood.”

The fanatic nodded as if he understood.

“I see.”

Danwoo Seong said to Cheolmyeongho.

“Hori, how is your training going?”

Cheol Myeong-ho answered as he opened his eyes.

“I repeat this every single day. It’s painful.”

“Did you take your medicine wrong?”

Cheol Myeong-ho looked at Gwang-shin, completely ignoring Dan Woo-seong's words.

“Who are you, hyung?”

The fanatic just blinked, having nothing to say.

Cheol Myeong-ho spoke as if he knew everything.

"The Grand Duke brought you, so you must be a martial artist. Come up. Let's have a go."

Gwangsin asked Cheolmyeongho.

"suddenly?"

Cheol Myeong-ho glared at Gwangsin.

“Are you scared?”

Suddenly, Gwangsin started laughing like he'd lost air in his lungs, then collapsed to the floor, clutching his stomach for a long moment. Then, he pointed at Cheolmyeongho and said,

“Ah, I like it. It’s good. Just like my crazy brother’s friend. Birds of a feather flock together.”

Cheol Myeong-ho looked at Dan Woo-seong and snorted.

“What is that? What kind of Peking Opera speech is that?”

Danwoo Seong replied.

"You crazy bastard, watch your words. Brother, would you mind taking a look? I'm Cheol Myeong-ho, a Dokjonghori who practices the Samjae Sword Technique."

The fanatic responded as if he had misheard.

“What are you practicing?”

“It’s the Three Disasters Sword Technique.”

“Why that······.”

Cheol Myeong-ho intervened.

"Ah, here again the Samjae Sword Technique is being ignored. I'm Cheolmyeongho, the last swordsman in the martial arts world, who has only swung the sword 316,850 times. Let's fight."

The number of times increased so dramatically that even Danwoo-seong was surprised. It seemed like he had been training exclusively, as befitting a monopoly.

The fanatic replied.

“Okay. Let’s fight, you punk.”

Danwoo Seong asked.

“Why are you so excited? Did you break the Eight Dragon Gate?”

Cheol Myeong-ho responded briefly, moving his fingers left and right.

"Not yet. My internal energy is lacking. Ha Jeon-ik seems to have developed a competitive spirit, and he's been searching for my elixir lately. He's realized the truth that I'll become stronger if I just back up my internal energy. I've realized it too. I'm a strong man to begin with. I've defeated the masters of the Eight Dragons Sect with just the Three-Action Sword Technique. I'm afraid of myself. I guess that's what they call genius."

Danwoo-seong scratched his forehead with a sigh.

“You little shit.”

This is the typical second stage of a common martial arts fighter. It refers to a state of arrogance caused by a string of victories. While accepting the fact that they are geniuses, they conclude everything is due to a lack of internal energy. These martial arts fighters, who claim to win because of their own strength and to lose because of a lack of internal energy, espouse a perfectly sound logic.

The fanatic said as he climbed onto the stage with his back to his chest.

“Anyway, he’s quite an interesting man.”

Gwangsin kept tilting his head. He wondered if perhaps he was a master capable of concealing his aura by reaching Nohwasuncheong. But no matter how much he thought about it, that wasn't the case. He believed he was simply setting the mood.

Danwoo-seong spoke to Gwangshin with a worried heart.

“Brother, if you hit him wrong, he’ll die.”

The fanatic nodded as if to tell him not to worry.

"I get it."

Cheol Myeong-ho shook his head and stood up, then grabbed a wooden umbrella in his hand and picked up a wooden sword rolling on the floor and handed it to Gwang-shin.

“Brother, take it.”

The fanatic responded as he received the wooden sword.

“Thank you.”

Cheol Myeong-ho said this while swinging his iron umbrella with skillful movements until it made a banging sound.

“Honestly, I think my only opponents around here now are that guy and the Palryongmunju.”

Danwoo-seong intervened.

“Hey, Hori. It’s much more than you expected······.”

Cheol Myeong-ho raised his hand and cut off Dan Woo-seong's words.

“You have to try to know.”

Danwoo Seong observed the situation with his mouth shut.

Cheol Myeong-ho, who was walking around on the stage, aimed his iron umbrella at Gwang-shin and said.

“Okay, can I come in?”

Cheol Myeong-ho looked at Gwang-shin with a deeply sullen gaze. Unless you're a skilled swordsman, a wooden sword will inevitably break against a wooden umbrella. If you attack at that point, most people will be knocked out. It's always been that way, so he felt at peace.

The fanatic spoke while holding a wooden sword.

“Come.”

Cheol Myeong-ho poured all his energy and momentum into his body, stepped forward with his left foot, and struck the fanatic's head with a precise strike.

Boo!

The tip of the iron umbrella fell vertically in front of the fanatic's face. Of course, he couldn't reach it.

The fanatic nodded.

“That guy is so bold.”

Cheolmyeongho swung his Samjae Sword Technique again and attacked Gwangshin. However, the iron umbrella didn't reach him. His opponent wasn't making any noise, either. He moved leisurely, almost as if taking a stroll, and he couldn't be caught.

Only after swinging his sword dozens of times did Cheolmyeongho finally look at Danwooseong.

Danwoo Seong spoke briefly.

“Aren’t you out of your mind?”

He was telling them to brace themselves, as their opponent was a formidable opponent. Only then did Cheol Myeong-ho swallow his saliva and lunge at Gwang-sin. This time, Gwang-sin didn't move.

Cheol Myeong-ho thought as he put down his iron umbrella.

'Let's try hitting the wooden sword.'

Wheeeeeek!

As the iron umbrella fell with a violent force, the fanatic swung it lightly as if he was swatting away a fly with his wooden sword.

With a loud, loud noise, Cheolmyeongho, who was still holding the iron umbrella, was thrown and flew all the way to the wall of the underground training ground, where he crashed into it and fainted.

The fanatic glanced at the intact wooden sword and replied.

"You've trained quite diligently. You're a unique person. Let's take you to the temple. I'll have you run errands for me."

"All right."

Danwoo Sung gently injected his inner energy into Cheolmyungho, who was half-conscious, as he woke him up. Cheolmyungho shook his head repeatedly, regaining consciousness. Cheolmyungho looked at Danwoo Sung and asked.

“Am I dead?”

"yet."

“Wow, I almost died.”

“Myungho, you just got lucky.”

“Fate? What is it?”

Danwoo Seong looked at Cheolmyeongho and replied.

“Errand by chance.”

< King of Fist, Birds of a Feather 1 > End

ⓒ Eugene Sung