Chapter 9: Martial Duel (2)
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The Black Tiger Sect mbers carried Joo Hoyeop, whose nose was broken and bleeding heavily, while hurling curses.
“You crazy bastard! The Black Tiger Sect won’t forget this!”
“You won’t die peacefully!”
“We’ll grind your corpse and feed it to dogs!”
“Shut up. If you’ve said everything, then get lost.”
Cheon Bigang waved his hand as if brushing away annoying flies.
The three n glared at him with bloodshot eyes, but worried about Joo Hoyeop’s condition, they hurriedly left while trying to stop the bleeding.
Jo Wol, troubled, pressed her temples.
“Even if it was verbal, you accepted the duel. Now there’s no backing out.”
“Is that a problem?”
“…Honestly, I hoped you would avoid the duel.”
“Why?”
“Take a look at this. Why do you think those who tried to assassinate you yesterday suddenly changed their approach?”
Jo Wol operated her smartphone and held it out.
Unfamiliar with such devices, Cheon Bigang read the large text on the mobile webpage.
“National Martial Duel Listings. So?”
“Do you understand the problem now?”
“They said they want a duel.”
“….”
Seeing that he didn’t grasp the seriousness at all, Jo Wol clicked her tongue.
“Honestly…”
Jo Wol had a close relationship with Gyojin.
More precisely, since the ti she first joined the Hao Clan as an errand runner until she beca a branch head, she had deep ties with the Heavenly Demon Pawnshop.
After fleeing her holand ruined by the Emperor’s tyranny, she drifted into Kowloon City as a child—with no money, no job, and no ho.
At that ti, just before the Kowloon Seven Swords were ford, the city was a den of chaos where honest people, the wicked, and those who had abandoned their humanity were all entangled.
With nowhere to rely on, she wandered the slums and was eventually captured by a gang-run sect, nearly sold into human trafficking.
There was no way she could escape on her own.
But fate did not abandon her.
Slice!
Late at night, the locked iron gate was cut apart by a sharp blade, and from the darkness erged a man and a woman.
Elegant appearance.
Clear eyes that denied human malice.
Thunder Light Divine Sword and So Yeonbi.
On that day, Jo Wol t the man and woman who would beco Gyojin’s parents.
The gang sect was annihilated overnight, and over thirty won, including Jo Wol, were rescued.
The two introduced her to the Hao Clan, and that connection continued until she beca a branch head.
She had watched Gyojin grow—laughing, walking, speaking, throwing tantrums.
That was why, when Gyojin brought Cheon Bigang, she had initially felt discomfort.
‘This man, whose identity is unknown, is Gyojin’s master?’
She was bewildered.
Despite her close relationship with the family, she had never heard of Cheon Bigang.
Naturally, she had grown suspicious.
After he devoured all the staff’s als one day, she mobilized her network to investigate him thoroughly.
But nothing ca up.
No ID, no passport, no dical records, not even plastic surgery records of anyone resembling him.
Even CCTV accessible through the Hao Clan revealed nothing.
‘It’s not like he just sprouted from the ground… How is this possible?’
Sigh.
Jo Wol sighed inwardly.
Looking at the large man sitting there, seemingly unaware of what a duel truly ant, she felt suffocated.
Finally, she began explaining.
“You know why martial duels exist, right?”
“Of course. To test each other’s martial arts.”
“That’s the dictionary definition. But now, it’s not used with such pure intent.”
Tap, tap.
She showed him a video.
A 40-story building collapsing.
It recorded an incident where a martial artist, driven by a grudge, destroyed all the load-bearing pillars of a building owned by his enemy.
Boom!
Dead: 278
Missing: 209
Injured: 502
For sothing caused by a single person, it was horrific.
As the number of martial artists grew and such incidents accumulated, the governnt introduced duels as a thod to resolve disputes.
Like dieval trial by combat, with witnesses present, victory determined the resolution of grudges and financial matters.
“In a duel, if both sides agree to the conditions beforehand, there is no legal responsibility—even if soone dies or is injured. And as long as you don’t get caught, any underhanded thod is tolerated.”
Cheon Bigang scoffed.
“It’s obvious what kind of people propose duels. So? Do you think I’ll lose?”
“To be honest, I don’t know who you are. You’ve covered your tracks so cleanly that not even dust cos up. So whether you win or lose—I can’t say.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Do you know the conditions attached to the duel you accepted?”
Cheon Bigang shook his head.
He had broken Joo Hoyeop’s nose before hearing them.
Jo Wol found that the most frustrating part.
“These are the conditions they proposed.”
She showed him:
[Martial Duel Conditions]
[―. Life or death unrestricted.]
[―. If the Black Tiger Sect wins, all property of the Heavenly Demon Pawnshop and custody of Gyojin will be transferred.]
[―. The duel will be unard. Use of poison, hidden weapons, and biochemical weapons is prohibited.]
[―. Participants will be announced on the day.]
Nothing seed suspicious at first glance—but that was precisely the issue.
“Leaving aside Gyojin’s life being at stake, they’re confident they can kill you barehanded. If we had adjusted the terms, we could at least identify the opponent beforehand. But now, we won’t know until the day.”
“Kill barehanded? If that’s possible, I’d be delighted.”
“I’m not joking. And if anything happens to Gyojin, I won’t stay silent either.”
Her voice sharpened.
Cheon Bigang could clearly feel her genuine concern.
But what was done was done.
“That matter is settled. The duel will proceed. Now, another matter. I ca here for a different reason. You know I’m hostile with Shin Yawol. I need information.”
“What kind?”
“In the end, it’s about drawing him out. Tell —how do you kill an emperor?”
“The Emperor… that’s unfortunate. If you drew a number now, there would be about a million people in line. Not only individuals—other nations want him dead too.”
“Other nations?”
“To exaggerate a bit—the whole world.”
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Two days later.
Kowloon Duel Arena.
Though the na sounded grand, most first-ti visitors were disappointed.
They expected to see masters exchanging sword energy and elegant techniques.
Reality was far different.
“You bastard! How many tabs do you owe already?! Is this a free kitchen?!”
“What kind of food is this?! Even my foot-washing water tastes better!”
“Then I’ll take your arm as paynt!”
“Try it!”
Or—
“You filthy whore! You seduced my husband?! I’ll chop that worn-out thing of yours into pieces!”
“Hahaha! Seduced him? He confessed to !”
“Liar!”
“What can I do if he prefers ? Fine—if you want to die, I’ll show you my whip!”
“Today, one of us is going in a coffin!”
Most duels were like this.
That’s why the duel between the Black Tiger Sect and the Heavenly Demon Pawnshop drew the attention of gamblers.
It was a rare match between real martial artists.
On betting sites, people argued.
―Who did you bet on?
―Black Tiger
―Why?
―They returned after 10 years, no way they ca for nothing
―What if Thunder Light Divine Sword suddenly appears?
―LOL
―They’re screwed
―Black Tiger wiped out
―But he’s gone, right? Odds ruined lol
―Screw you all, I’m betting on the Heavenly Demon, 100x payout!
―Here cos the loser
―When do we see participant info?
―After betting closes, obviously
Ten minutes before the match, the participants were revealed.
Gyojin recognized the opponent and was shocked.
“Little Twin Fist Gong Gyeon!”
“You know him?”
Cheon Bigang, yawning in the waiting area, asked.
“He’s from an underground arena in another city. He competed in barehanded combat tournants and even beca champion once. But he retired after his spine broke and he beca paralyzed. So how is he here?”
“Paralyzed…”
Cheon Bigang looked at the screen.
Little Twin Fist Gong Gyeon.
Height: 162 cm / Weight: 82 kg.
Small fra, but heavily built.
Sa Gyeom, dragged there unwillingly, muttered.
“I’ve heard of him… he specializes in unard combat.”
“What about his skill?”
“He’s from underground fights—his techniques are very practical…”
“Stronger than you?”
“Well… if we remove the unard condition, I might stand a chance…”
As Sa Gyeom rambled, Gyojin raised a finger.
“One second.”
“….”
“You’d die before even blocking one move.”
“…That’s not—”
“Then should we switch fighters?”
“…!”
Sa Gyeom’s face turned red.
It was ti.
The arena floor was covered with tal tiles.
Jo Wol, acting as witness, called both sides.
Before stepping up, Gyojin spoke.
“Master.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For everything. This was supposed to be my responsibility.”
“Disciple. Avoid troubleso things, chase profitable ones. But do you know what’s even better?”
“I don’t.”
“Beating the hell out of soone you want to beat.”
Smirk.
Cheon Bigang stepped onto the arena.
Across from him stood Gong Gyeon—his supposedly paralyzed lower body completely fine.
Jo Wol reviewed the rules.
“Final reminder—this is a life-or-death duel, but surrender can stop the match.”
She looked at Cheon Bigang.
‘There’s definitely a trap. Surrender if it’s dangerous.’
He nodded.
She sat and activated the signal.
Beep!
At the sound—
Cheon Bigang’s fist smashed into Gong Gyeon’s face.
Crack!
The sound of fourteen facial bones shattering echoed.
Silence fell.
He withdrew his fist.
“That’s all?”
A perfect strike.
Before Gong Gyeon could even raise his internal energy—
Sa Gyeom gasped.
“D-did he win?”
At that mont—
Gong Gyeon’s crushed face swelled back outward like dough.
A smile ford.
“Ouch… that hurt.”
Slash!
Sothing invisible struck Cheon Bigang’s chest.
He was pushed back three steps.
“Oh?”
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