Chapter 92

Chapter 92: The World Is Wide, But Those Who Must Meet Will Meet (2)

Cho Yeon-woon rose from his seat.

He too had parents, and they were worthy of respect. In truth, Cho Yeon-woon revered them deeply.

Hwangbo Yeong-cheon's profanity had degraded not only the crowd but their parents to the level of dogs. Even for Cho Yeon-woon, who proudly called himself the foremost romantic of the Murim world, such an insult was hard to stomach.

Cho Yeon-woon sauntered toward Hwangbo Yeong-cheon. The aura emanating from him was anything but ordinary.

Paeng Man-yeong, seeing this, hung his head low.

"Damn it!"

Hwangbo Yeong-cheon had gone too far.

A martial artist lived by his pride. To hear one's parents called dogs—if one had any pride at all, it was unthinkable to endure.

Hwangbo Yeong-cheon was still huffing, snorting with rage. There was no sign of him calming down.

With no other choice, Paeng Man-yeong stepped forward.

"My apologies."

"I have no business with you."

"He is my companion. This is naturally my concern as well."

At Paeng Man-yeong's words, Cho Yeon-woon furrowed his brow slightly. The aura emanating from Paeng Man-yeong was not ordinary.

But he was Cho Yeon-woon. Though he called himself the foremost romantic of the Murim world, he was not so weak as to retreat after being insulted.

"Then shall I have your companion apologize? No matter how angry one is, calling someone's parents dogs is truly unacceptable."

"My apologies."

"I told you. It is not your apology that is needed."

Cho Yeon-woon's gaze turned to Hwangbo Yeong-cheon.

His eyes burned with intensity. Paeng Man-yeong made a clucking sound. He could tell from the eyes alone that the man's level was far from ordinary.

At that moment, Hwangbo Yeong-cheon flared up.

"What?"

"Apologize! Not just to me, but to everyone here."

"What nonsense are you spouting? You want me, Hwangbo Yeong-cheon, to apologize?"

"Whether you are Hwangbo Yeong-cheon or that old grandfather of yours, it does not matter. When one has done wrong, one must apologize—that is the way of the world."

"My, even your dog-speak is first-rate."

"Ha! From bastard to dog-speak—you truly make a man into a dog."

Cho Yeon-woon glared at Hwangbo Yeong-cheon.

In that instant, a fierce light blazed from Cho Yeon-woon's eyes. For the first time, Hwangbo Yeong-cheon flinched. But only for a moment—soon he let out a roar.

"I am Hwangbo Yeong-cheon of the Hwangbo Family! Who are you to dare speak such nonsense to me?"

"Who I am does not matter. That you are a member of the Hwangbo Family is of little importance as well."

"Then what does matter?"

"The fact that you have insulted everyone here—that is what matters."

"Is this brat playing word games?"

Hwangbo Yeong-cheon's face flushed crimson red.

The sight of him snorting with rage was like that of an enraged bull.

Paeng Man-yeong stepped in front of Hwangbo Yeong-cheon and spoke.

"Yeong-cheon, apologize."

"For what?"

"You went too far. Even if it were not him, no one would have tolerated such an insult."

"Tch! You too are going to lecture me?"

"If you apologize, it can be brushed aside lightly. I would prefer that you apologize."

Paeng Man-yeong's eyes glinted. A fierce light shone from them. At that, Hwangbo Yeong-cheon flinched.

Though Hwangbo Yeong-cheon feared nothing in the world, Paeng Man-yeong was a particularly uncomfortable opponent.

It was not merely because they belonged to the same Great Families. Paeng Man-yeong was strong—strong enough to make Hwangbo Yeong-cheon feel uneasy. But even so, Hwangbo Yeong-cheon had no desire to be pushed into apologizing by Paeng Man-yeong.

Hwangbo Yeong-cheon shook his head.

"I will never apologize."

"Yeong-cheon."

"This is a matter of my pride."

Hwangbo Yeong-cheon raised his voice. At that, Cho Yeon-woon muttered.

"That dog-like pride of yours—is it really so important? You are no man at all. The Hwangbo Family has released nothing but a big dog into the world."

His voice was very quiet, yet it reached every ear with uncanny clarity.

Hwangbo Yeong-cheon shoved Paeng Man-yeong aside and strode toward Cho Yeon-woon.

"To dare insult the Hwangbo Family…"

"I did not insult the Hwangbo Family. I insulted you, you big dog."

"You!"

Blinding with rage, Hwangbo Yeong-cheon swung his fist at Cho Yeon-woon without hesitation.

Whoosh!

A fist wind more powerful than the fist itself surged toward Cho Yeon-woon.

It was a single form of the Thunder God Fist, one of the Hwangbo Family's signature techniques—Thunder Blood Sky.

"Ah! It's dangerous!"

"Oh no!"

The onlookers screamed, but Cho Yeon-woon, the target, was utterly composed.

His upper body shifted lightly, and in the next instant he had let Hwangbo Yeong-cheon's fist slip past.

However, if he allowed the force Hwangbo Yeong-cheon had unleashed to dissipate freely, the boat would suffer great damage.

In that instant, Cho Yeon-woon's hand coiled around Hwangbo Yeong-cheon's forearm like a snake.

"Hmph!"

Hwangbo Yeong-cheon snorted and tried to shake off Cho Yeon-woon's hand. But the moment he attempted to unleash his force, Cho Yeon-woon's fingers pressed upon the Small Sea acupoint on his elbow.

"Urgh!"

Hwangbo Yeong-cheon groaned. The pain that began at the Small Sea acupoint spread throughout his arm, sapping his strength.

"Where did you learn such sorcery…"

"To call the Eight Desolate Divine Fist sorcery—you must be the only fool in the world who would say such a thing."

"What?"

Thud thud thud thud!

In that instant, Cho Yeon-woon's fist struck Hwangbo Yeong-cheon's entire body with blinding speed.

It was not merely punching flesh with brute force.

Each strike of Cho Yeon-woon's fist targeted Hwangbo Yeong-cheon's vital points.

"Urgh!"

Hwangbo Yeong-cheon's body was battered about like a reed in a storm.

"Yeong-cheon!"

Paeng Man-yeong shouted, but it was already too late.

Crack!

The final blow struck Hwangbo Yeong-cheon's temple.

"Gah!"

Hwangbo Yeong-cheon screamed and was sent flying.

Sprawled on the ground, the light had gone out of his eyes. Fortunately, he was not dead, but he had lost consciousness.

Cho Yeon-woon looked down at Hwangbo Yeong-cheon and muttered.

"There are always those who cannot understand unless you explain with your fists."

"The Eight Desolate Divine Fist… You are Cho Yeon-woon of Cloud Dragon."

In that moment, Paeng Man-yeong's voice rang out.

Few knew the name Eight Desolate Divine Fist. It was a martial art created by the Hundred Battles Hall Master Jang Il-san himself.

Jang Il-san had attained such mastery in saber techniques that he earned the title of Demon Subduing Saber. Yet the martial art he actually created was the Eight Desolate Divine Fist, a close-combat technique.

Within the Eight Desolate Divine Fist were all the insights Jang Il-san had gained through his battles with the Demonic Cult. In particular, the technique of using the opponent's own qi against them to dominate their nerves or burn their acupoints was a hallmark unique to the Eight Desolate Divine Fist.

Jang Il-san had his sole disciple, Cho Yeon-woon, learn the martial art he had created. Apart from Jang Il-san himself, Cho Yeon-woon was the only person who had mastered the Eight Desolate Divine Fist.

"That is correct! I am Cho Yeon-woon."

"Does your will represent the will of the entire Hundred Battles Hall?"

"No! This arises entirely from my personal feelings. If I were to hear someone insult my parents and do nothing, would that not make me the true bastard?"

"You speak dangerous words without hesitation."

Paeng Man-yeong's gaze turned cold.

Cho Yeon-woon's words were, in principle, correct. The problem was their identities. One was a minor hall master of the Hundred Battles Hall, and the other was a direct bloodline member of the Hwangbo Family.

The minor hall master of the Hundred Battles Hall had thrashed a blood member of the Hwangbo Family. This was not merely a personal grudge—it could become a conflict between sects.

The Hwangbo Family was formidable, but the Hundred Battles Hall was no less so. Though it lacked the history of the Hwangbo Family and thus possessed less accumulated power, it had something else—the Hundred Battles Victory Banner.

The Hundred Battles Victory Banner was the symbol of the awe and trust that the martial elders of Murim placed in the Hundred Battles Hall. If that banner were threatened, countless sects would rally to the Hundred Battles Hall's aid.

A battle between the Hundred Battles Hall and the Hwangbo Family.

The mere thought of it was enough to make one's head spin.

The small mercy was that Cho Yeon-woon had declared this a personal matter.

Not a conflict between sects, but a clash born of personal feelings.

"Then I too may act on personal feelings without concern."

At Paeng Man-yeong's words, Cho Yeon-woon furrowed his brow. Paeng Man-yeong glanced at Hwangbo Yeong-cheon, who lay sprawled on the ground, still unconscious.

"Regardless of the reason, my friend has fallen. I cannot simply stand by."

"Revenge for your friend?"

"On the surface."

"And the real reason?"

"The opportunity to experience the Hundred Battles Hall's techniques does not come often."

"Hmph!"

Cho Yeon-woon laughed.

Paeng Man-yeong laughed as well.

They were beings who lived in the Murim world.

Personal feelings were merely the surface reason. Beneath it all, the desire to defeat one's opponent burned fiercely in their hearts.

In other words, the instinct of martial artists held dominion over their hearts.

Watching the two of them, Eon Su-hwa shook her head.

"Men, honestly…"

At times like this, men were no different from children.

The fight had started because of Hwangbo Yeong-cheon, but he was already out of everyone's sight.

"By the way, the Cloud Dragon of the Hundred Battles Hall."

A look of curiosity appeared on Eon Su-hwa's face.

A dragon drunk, wandering through the clouds.

Though he had not made it into the Four Dragons of the World, the most prodigious talents of the Murim, he was nonetheless a talent worthy of standing at the pinnacle.

This was a perfect opportunity to see Cho Yeon-woon's true strength.

Cho Yeon-woon reached for his waist. Then he grimaced.

"Damn it!"

There was no wine.

He had only just realized he had set the wine bottle on the ground.

At that moment.

Whoosh!

Suddenly a wine bottle came flying. It was thrown by Dam Ho.

Cho Yeon-woon caught it deftly and laughed.

"Haha! As expected, there's no one like a friend."

He gulped the wine down in one long drink. Wine spilled from the corners of his mouth, but he paid it no mind. In this way, Cho Yeon-woon drained an entire bottle in a single go.

"Friend?"

Paeng Man-yeong and Eon Su-hwa turned their gaze to Dam Ho, who stood on one side of the deck. Only then did they become aware of his presence.

'Did he have a friend?'

If this man was Cho Yeon-woon's friend, he too must be no ordinary figure.

The two tried to get a better look at Dam Ho.

In that instant, Cho Yeon-woon's voice rang out.

"Is there any need to drag this out?"

Cho Yeon-woon suddenly hurled the empty wine bottle toward the river and launched himself after it. His body soared a dozen zhang before plunging toward the water, and just as the bottle was about to hit, he kicked off it.

Tap!

Cho Yeon-woon kicked off the bottle and launched himself again. After flying another five zhang, he landed on the opposite riverbank.

"Are you provoking me?"

Paeng Man-yeong wrinkled his nose and looked around. He spotted a pile of wooden planks on one side of the deck.

Thump!

Paeng Man-yeong kicked a plank and launched himself.

Like Cho Yeon-woon, he flew to the middle of the river, stepped on a plank to gain another burst of momentum, and arrived on the opposite bank.

Watching this, Eon Su-hwa shook her head.

'Men, honestly.'

But she was no different.

Like the two men, she too sent a plank flying and soared across the river. Her figure was like a swallow skimming the water.

"Wow!"

"Amazing!"

The people watching from the deck gasped in admiration.

Dam Ho watched the scene for a moment.

The three who had landed on the riverbank seemed to exchange a few words. Then Cho Yeon-woon and Paeng Man-yeong began a sparring match.

For some reason, smiles hung on their faces.

'Is this what they call the romance of the Murim world?'

In the world Dam Ho inhabited, there was no room for such leisurely emotions.

Dam Ho soon lost interest in them.

Whatever the outcome, whoever won—it was none of his concern.

On one corner of the deck, Hwangbo Yeong-cheon lay unconscious, but no one gave him a second glance.