Chapter 160

As Cheong took a step closer, Dan Woon-sak scrambled backward on a leg and an arm, inching away like an awkward little critter.

But that didn’t bother Cheong; he picked up the sword that had fallen from Dan Woon-sak’s grasp, swinging it a few times.

The weight distribution was fantastic, the blade a sharp blue sheen, and even with blood clinging to it, it was undeniably a fine weapon…

Blood?

Cheong bent his elbow, inspecting his forearm. A deep gash, as wide as a finger, was bleeding profusely.

No wonder it felt like a dull ache but with that kind of weirdly intoxicating pain; honestly, it wasn’t that bad.

Letting some blood drip from his fingertips, Cheong looked down at Dan Woon-sak and declared,

“Hand over the scabbard.”

“I-I’ll give it to you!”

“I need it. Hurry up! Maybe it’s the blood, but I’m feeling dizzy.”

Cheong accepted the scabbard and added,

“Seriously, why are you using this fine sword to bully that old man? You using twin swords? Is there any decent person using twin swords? Is that a Martial World thing or what? They say it’s a symbol of social disorder.”

“N-no, it’s just natural for any sect to covet such a treasure if they have it…”

“What? Natural? You think it’s normal to kidnap a grandson and sell him off, leaving people to starve? Is that what you think?”

“Well, that’s…”

“Living that way just means getting stabbed and dying is normal. If you commit crimes, then you should pay the price. If you end up decapitated, it won’t even be a tragedy. You can just go to the afterlife and answer why you died, and they’ll probably say it was because you were destined to die. Got it?”

“Wait a minute…!”

Cheong stomped forward with confidence.

Desperately, Dan Woon-sak crawled away, but the difference in mobility between two legs and one arm against a fully functioning person was like the tortoise versus the insomnia-ridden rabbit.

Before long, Cheong shoved the sword right under Dan Woon-sak’s chin.

“Stop being ugly and just offer your neck.”

“Please, spare me, hiiiik!”

Cheong lifted the sword with a flourish.

Dan Woon-sak tried to shield himself with his palm, but that was a defense only someone trained in Supreme Hand-to-Hand Combat could manage.

And then, snip!

“Aaaaah!”

People don’t scream after losing their heads.

But with his torso sliced vertically from palm to shoulder, Dan Woon-sak certainly could scream.

“You should die gracefully! Why harm others? If you act like that, this is what you get!”

His right arm was gone below the elbow, his left arm was halved, and one leg was utterly crippled.

If they left him like this, he’d be dead in no time!

Even so, clinging to life, he tried to inch away on one leg. Unless heaven itself intervened, saving him would be a lost cause.

Cheong turned away without a second thought.

His arm was injured, but hey, he got a hold of the Moonlight Sword, so whatever.

The Moonlight Sword was longer and thicker than the previous one—he absolutely loved its weight.

At the Iron Box where they fetched weapons for the Divine Maiden Sect, they made swords meant for women, resulting in lighter blades.

Even the previous Moonlight Sword was crafted lighter than a regular man’s sword.

With Cheong’s immense strength, it felt almost too light to wield. Was this how the characters in those movies with lightsabers felt?

“What’s everyone doing? Get down on your knees!”

Cheong barked at the Namyeon Sect members who were hesitating.

Honestly, kneeling was the first thing they learned upon entering a heterodox sect, so they instinctively did it.

Observing the members kneeling without hesitation, Cheong clicked his tongue.

“Pssh, good listeners. I thought I’d have to chop off a few heads first to get some obedience. What a letdown.”

The members felt a chill run down their spines.

This wasn’t an idle threat; Cheong’s words were the first step in asserting dominance.

Then, in a fit of frustration, Tang Nan-ah smacked him, expressing her annoyance over why Dan Woon-sak was injured again.

From somewhere, she pulled out a cloth, wrapping it around the injury, muttering something about not being confident sticking a needle in muscles to stop bleeding being her best shot.

The way she wrapped the bandage made Cheong lose interest, and he shouted again,

“If any of you sold Old Man Ban’s grandson, raise your hand. I won’t harm you, come out quietly. I swear on my master’s name.”

The martial world adherents swore on their master’s names had to be taken at face value.

Since there were cases where disciples turned against each other, it wouldn’t work on everyone.

Trying to keep their hands to themselves but knowing what they should do, one guy raised his hand timidly.

“Okay. Now everyone smash each other’s dantians. Go ahead. Anyone who claims to be a peak fighter is excluded.”

Two middle-aged guys and an old dude stood up, relief etched on their faces, and slowly stepped aside.

That rather self-satisfied expression was an extra touch.

“The rest of you can choose to sacrifice your dantian or your head. If you don’t break anything in ten counts, I’ll personally smash your head. One. Two, where do you think you’re going!”

Kneeling indicates respect or surrender; it should not be used for leverage.

If a hairpin comes flying, you’ll have no excuses!

Even Tang Nan-ah, who was wrapping herself up, reacted, resulting in two hairpins darting their way.

Crunch…

But the fatal blow hit the neck; the imprudent disciple, in an attempt to flee, spit blood and writhed on the ground.

“Four. No, I don’t understand. Five. Your dantian is broken, and you’re still alive? Six. Even if I save you, you’re in for trouble. Seven.”

Even if the dantian is damaged, unless it’s a specialized martial art, the bones and open veins remain intact, so a martial artist who doesn’t practice any martial arts can easily take on commoners.

Better than a third-rate fighter who doesn’t know martial arts, but worse than a second-rate fighter who can at least handle their qi. You’d call this a half-hearted warrior.

“Eight. Nine. Ding. Let’s see.”

Cheong’s eyes sparkled as he surveyed the kneeling fighters.

Each one bore faint traces of blood at their lips, looking as if they’d all shattered their dantians.

And then it happened.

“This bastard pretended to break his dantian while biting his tongue!”

Someone, feeling heroic, bolted forward after spotting the fraud.

Once Cheong exacted proper punishment, he pulled out some gold coins from his money bag, breaking one in half and tossing it to the whistleblower.

“Here you go. You’re free now. Be careful on your way out with your newfound cash.”

The whistleblower blinked in surprise but then thanked him with a loud voice and hurried out of the manor.

Cheong didn’t stop him. Whistleblowers deserved their due rewards and protection.

He raised the remaining half of the gold coin high.

“Anyone need gold coins? If you snitch on someone trying to sneak out while pretending their dantian is fine, it’s half a gold coin. I lost my inner strength, but I need some money for living expenses for a bit.”

And there it was—two more sneaky ones in the crowd.

Thus, an extra half coin flew out, and two informants exited with half a gold coin each.

“Uh, what about us…?”

“You’re masters, so I can’t let you go freely. Should we hand you over to the officials? Nan-ah, get a grip on the Ma Blood.”

“Ma Blood? You could just handle that with a first-rate skill…”

“Then do I have to break their dantians?”

Then the three peak fighters screamed,

“We won’t resist!”

“We’ll go to the officials peacefully!”

“That’s right. Let them go of these three.”

So, the three peak warriors ended up like Ma Blood, collapsing to the ground.

At that moment, Je-gal Lee-hyun whispered softly,

“Sister, the officials at the capital are in cahoots, and they’ll let them go as soon as they’re handed over.”

“I know. But we need to use the officials as an excuse to get Ma Blood to quietly cooperate, right?”

Some of the pressure points had mystical effects, blocking bleeding, paralyzing the body, sealing mouths, or inducing sleep.

Seomun Sulin insisted that every disciple should try pressure point training at least once, but Cheong found the most distressing one was the ones used for blood transfusions and sleep-inducing pressure points.

After waking, one would experience a terrible hangover!

Had it not been for these side effects, insomnia wouldn’t run rampant in the Central Plains.

“Indeed, sister. You’ve truly mastered the art of deceiving others, using their psychology to create those despicable tricks! One can only marvel at your talent.”

“Why does it sound like praise but feel like an insult? Could you keep those thoughts to yourself next time?”

“I apologize, sister. But as an immature disciple, how could I hold back my admiration?”

Ultimately, he was intent on continuing with his thoughts.

What’s up with that?

Had I offended Je-gal in some way?

Cheong tilted his head.

“Okay. Just the guy who sold Old Man Ban’s grandson is left. Everyone else, disperse. The party’s over; it’s time to head home.”

Cheong waved his hand, ushering the half-hearted warriors outside.

“Um, Great Hero, what about me…?”

“You’re coming with me to find Old Man Ban’s grandson. Once we’re done here, you’ll be released, so don’t worry.”

“A-ah, yes…”

“Now then, let’s go. Uncle, could you handle them and meet me back at the Iron Box? If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

Cheong pointed to the three peak fighters.

Understanding his intent, Gyeon Pohee nodded brightly, smiling like pure sunshine.

“Ah! Okay! Got it!”

It’d be a shame to just kill off peak fighters.

Better to let the weak Uncle feed on living elixirs and grow stronger.

—-

Returning to the Iron Box, Old Man Ban was waiting, tied to a beam.

“What’s with this ugly room decor?”

“It’s Ban. Still alive to see this, huh?”

“Namyeon Sect’s at an end. I killed the sect leader.”

At this, the old man’s eyes widened, then suddenly, he grasped Cheong’s arm in desperation.

“What about my grandson? Have you found him?”

“They say he was sold to some shady place. There’s a guy here who sold him, so I’m going for a refund. Hmm? Is it refunding here? Je-gal, what do you call going back to retrieve something sold?”

“Re-buy, I’d say.”

Anyway, there were still two months until the Martial World Tournament in May.

While lounging around is an option, using the remaining time wisely wouldn’t be a bad shout either.

So, shove that ugly rope aside and wait here. By the way, what does your grandson even look like?”

Old Man Ban’s fish-like eyes glimmered with newfound hope.

“Just find my grandson, Ja-gwon. If you find him, I’ll do anything for you. I’ll make you a sword or anything; I won’t even refuse a smithing position…”

“No, thanks. I don’t need a smithing position.”

“You don’t need one? You just don’t know, but when I was young, I created the Seocheong Sword. How many swordsmiths do you think are like me in the world?”

“Seocheong Sword!”

Je-gal Lee-hyun exclaimed.

Cheong chuckled,

“Seeing Je-gal scream means it’s some legendary sword, huh? An old man who refuses to craft weapons now suddenly wants to? There must be a good backstory behind that retail drama.”

“That’s…”

“Whether it’s threats or favors, using them to make someone do something against their will aren’t they just the same? The sect leader wasn’t wrong. No reason to turn into that kind of scumbag.”

The old man opened his mouth, looking like a complete fool.

Cheong burst into laughter and continued,

“If refunds or rebuys aren’t accepted, I might just throw a fit. So keep your health in check, old man. If you find your grandson and he’s dead, no one will take responsibility.”

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