MUC 61

Chapter 61

Lee Jae-ha and Lee Mu-geol stared with their mouths hanging wide open.

“That guy isn’t someone who should go flying like that…”

The unconscious man was one of the main thugs who tormented their merchant group to near destruction. He was a well-known scoundrel in Heuksigok. With a body that massive and strength to match, even skilled martial artists usually lost to him in sheer power.

Yet here he was—sent flying and knocked out cold.

“…What the hell?!”

Even the Mukhyang members couldn’t believe it. A man who had silently been watching from behind under a bamboo hat slightly raised his head.

“You try to end things peacefully, and this is what happens? Punching without warning? Ridiculous.”

Dok Go-ryong clicked his tongue and glanced over at the man stuck in the rock before turning back to the Mukhyang members.

“That was self-defense, by the way. You all saw it, right? He threw the first punch.”

Gulp—

In the silence, the sound of someone swallowing echoed loudly.

“I really don’t want to make this any bigger than it has to be. You guys just want to kick out this father and son, right? They already said they’ll leave by tonight. So just back off.”

It was basically an eviction notice—don’t bother them anymore.

Even though his laid-back attitude was irritating, the Mukhyang members couldn’t protest. Something deep inside them told them not to mess with this man, no matter how defenseless he looked.

“F-Fungnyang-Gwi, sir! Don’t forget what the Sect Leader asked of us!”

“If you’ll just take care of that guy, we’ll handle the rest!”

They turned toward the man in the bamboo hat—the one who had been silently observing.

“Huh? That guy… feels just like Uncle.”

Eun Sowol frowned as she stared at Fungnyang-Gwi.

The pulled-down bamboo hat, the black cloak, the worn sword sheath at his waist—it all gave off the same feeling as Dok Go-ryong, like he was some kind of shadow copy.

“…Didn’t think I’d have to draw my sword.”

A low, gravelly voice came from under the hat.

The Mukhyang members flinched and bowed their heads immediately.

“S-Sorry, Fungnyang-Gwi!”

“Tch. Whatever. This was my job from the start anyway.”

Shrrk—

Fungnyang-Gwi unsheathed his sword. Unlike its old scabbard, the blade gleamed brightly under the moonlight, almost beautiful.

“You’re not planning to back off, are you?”

Dok Go-ryong muttered. His sword, too, was now out of its sheath—but unlike Fungnyang-Gwi’s, it was chipped and rusted, looking pitiful.

“No hard feelings. Just doing my job.”

“Same here.”

Both men assumed battle stances, silently measuring the distance between them—

Whoosh—CRASH!!

In a blink, they vanished from view and reappeared midair, swords already clashing.

“An equal match?!”

Eun Sowol gasped as the chilling sound of clashing blades rang out.

Until now, no one had ever blocked Dok Go-ryong’s sword properly. He was undefeated. Even the terrifying Hongwol Company had fallen before him.

Yet here was someone fighting him evenly.

For the first time, Sowol felt afraid.

“W-What if Uncle loses…?”

Her small shoulders trembled. Jae-ha and Mu-geol gritted their teeth.

“We’re sorry, child… This is all our fault.”

“If we had known he was Fungnyang-Gwi, we would’ve never made the request… We’re sorry…!”

Their heartfelt apologies only deepened Sowol’s fear.

To fight evenly with Dok Go-ryong meant Fungnyang-Gwi was just as strong—and if anything went wrong…

“Trust in Brother.”

A calm voice pierced the tension.

Dang Jin-ak, arms crossed, watched the ongoing battle as the two figures flickered in and out of view.

“U-Uncle won’t lose, right?”

“Brother? Lose?”

Heh.

Dang Jin-ak smirked and let out a small scoff.

“Sowol, you really don’t know how strong your uncle is, huh? Among his generation, no one can match him.”

“How strong is that?”

“He can crush all those arrogant guys who think they’re hot stuff.”

That wasn’t exactly clear.

As Sowol frowned in confusion, Jin-ak chuckled.

“Let’s just say, he’s at least at the ‘pinnacle’ level. I don’t even know where his limits are.”

“Wait, Uncle’s that strong?”

In some martial arts stories, everyone and their dog is at pinnacle level. But in this world, reaching that level was nearly impossible.

“In the original story, the protagonist reaching pinnacle in his early twenties shocked everyone.”

Even noble heirs raised on elixirs and secret techniques rarely reached that level before 30. But Dok Go-ryong was only 23 and already a master?

It was unbelievable.

“What about you, Jin-ak?”

“I’m first-rate. But I’ll reach pinnacle soon too, just watch!”

If even the famed genius Jin-ak was still first-rate, it really showed how amazing Dok Go-ryong was.

Sowol finally felt her fear easing. She clenched her little fists and shouted,

“Uncle! Don’t lose! You have to win!”

Her voice rang through the battlefield like thunder, silencing even the sound of weapons.

The Mukhyang members muttered about the crazy little girl. Fungnyang-Gwi frowned. Dok Go-ryong—

“Such nonsense.”

—snorted through his nose. But a faint smile played at the corner of his lips.

“…Your niece?”

“Why ask?”

In the middle of a deadly battle, they were chatting like they were at a teahouse.

“She just feels familiar.”

“I don’t know any punk like you.”

CLANG!

Their swords clashed again, sparks flying.

But then—

Craack—

A bad sound rang out. Right where the blades met, Dok Go-ryong’s sword—already chipped and worn—cracked.

Noticing this, Dok Go-ryong tried to pull back quickly, but—

CHING!

Fungnyang-Gwi didn’t miss the chance. He struck the cracked spot, and the sword snapped clean in two.

“Brother!”

Jin-ak cried out in shock.

“You should’ve taken better care of your weapon. You’ve lost.”

Fungnyang-Gwi didn’t doubt his victory.

He raised his blade for the final strike. But then—

Dok Go-ryong removed his bamboo hat, revealing sharp, blazing eyes.

Fungnyang-Gwi thought it was just a last stand and charged forward—

But Dok Go-ryong threw his hat directly at him, blocking his sight.

Fungnyang-Gwi reflexively swatted it away and refocused—but—

Thud!

A heavy hit struck his solar plexus. Dok Go-ryong had closed the distance in that tiny instant with a sharp angle kick.

“Gah!”

As Fungnyang-Gwi staggered, Dok Go-ryong darted back—and then charged in again.

“Trying one last trick, huh?!”

Angry now, Fungnyang-Gwi prepared to end it—

But in Dok Go-ryong’s hands was… an axe?

A familiar weapon.

Fungnyang-Gwi’s eyes flicked to the place where Dok Go-ryong had stepped back earlier—next to the unconscious thug.

The axe… had belonged to him.

“I knew it.”

A crooked smile appeared on Fungnyang-Gwi’s lips.

Dok Go-ryong’s eyes sharpened, and he swung the axe straight at Fungnyang-Gwi’s neck.

“I yield.”

Fungnyang-Gwi dropped his sword and raised both hands.

The axe stopped right at his neck, but the force was so strong it left a thin red line and a trickle of blood.

Everyone was stunned by the sudden surrender.

Dok Go-ryong had caught him off guard, sure, but Fungnyang-Gwi had clearly been winning.

So why give up?

Even Dok Go-ryong, who had instinctively stopped at the surrender, didn’t understand what was going on.

“…Still the same as ever, Gwangryong.”

From Fungnyang-Gwi’s mouth came a name Dok Go-ryong hadn’t heard in a while—his old nickname.

“…You know me?”

“Of course. I’m a bit hurt you don’t remember me.”

Fungnyang-Gwi gave a tired laugh and took off his bamboo hat.

His eyes were sharp, but his face overall had a gentle look. He didn’t seem like someone who belonged in the dark arts at all.

“Do you recognize me now?”

Dok Go-ryong’s eyes widened.