Chapter 41: Erasing Debts (4)

There are still phenomena in this world that science can’t explain. For example, in the West, it’s called hysterical strength; in the East, kajiba no bakajikara—the superhuman strength that surges unconsciously.

You’ve probably all heard stories of a mother at a fire scene lifting a car effortlessly and carrying her child to safety on her back.

In such cases, a brain flooded with adrenaline easily surpasses the body’s limits, squeezing out explosive power in an instant.

But that superhuman strength didn’t only emerge in extreme situations. It could also arise sporadically by borrowing the power of faith, entering a trance state.

The ancient Norse called such people berserkers. At the same time, they paraded berserkers as living witnesses to their gods, testifying to divine existence.

The situation unfolding at Eunko Bar right now was no different.

Ban lay sideways in midair before unleashing a dropkick straight at Tang Jihye. Normally, it would have been too slow for her to hit even if she wanted to.

In conclusion, she couldn’t dodge it.

Tang Jihye, who could catch incoming bullets, failed to react to the ambush from the boy who had been on crutches just moments ago. Why?

The momentum of the fanatic emboldened by the Cult Leader’s presence forced even the 3rd Battalion Commander to stagger back.

“You fucking bitchhhh!”

“F-F-Fucking b-b-bitch-?”

The battle cry of the adrenaline-drunk berserker clung to her body like a burdock burr.

Ban’s rigidly extended legs drew a straight line through the air, his feet plugging into Tang Jihye’s washboard abs like an electrical plug into a socket.

As if the universe itself had bent down to look at Ban, all the energy converged on Eunko Bar…

KWADUK!

…A miraculous scene unfolded before their eyes, one Lee Taebaek wouldn’t have witnessed even twice in his previous life.

KUOOOOONG.

The sound of her abdominal skin ripping. Tang Jihye’s eyes bulged like saucers as she let out a strangled gasp. Then she clutched her navel and toppled over.

“Keurk!”

3rd Battalion Commander, Tang Jihye.

Her back arched like a hill ridge. The Hundred-Fold Sect’s great disciple had placed the 3rd Battalion Commander beneath his feet.

“Waaaaah- Ahh!”

Ban flicked his nose bridge with his thumb.

The farce came to an end.

“……”

Lee Taebaek thought to himself.

Tang Jihye’s mistake was jumping up to dodge.

If she’d stayed put, it would have hit her sternum. But her timing slipped, letting the dropkick plow straight ahead into the martial artist’s vital point: her lower dantian.

Of all places.

Out of head, heart, or abdomen—the lower dantian.

Internal energy circulates through the meridians from the lower abdomen to the heart and crown, then back down to pool below the navel. That starting and ending point is the lower dantian.

KURURURUNG!

A magnitude 9 ultimate earthquake struck there. A jolt worse than an electric chair. A tsunami of pain relentlessly battered the nerve-dense area around her buttocks.

“Eouya.”

To compare, it was like getting three dead-center knuckle flicks to a man’s balls. He let out an involuntary sigh.

“Martial artists who are superhumans of the jianghu don’t spit blood for nothing……”

Just then, Goeun entered. Even she paled before grasping the situation.

Goeun, who stayed expressionless even with all ten fingers broken, wasn’t exaggerating about being hospitalized from a single dantian strike. Those who haven’t experienced it wouldn’t understand.

Great power comes with commensurate risk. An eternal truth, unchanged even as science encroaches on myth.

“Ban! How could you hit her lower dantian like that?! Lee Taebaek, did you teach him that?!”

Goeun scolded in an agitated voice.

“The Founding Patriarch said it himself.”

Of course, it was like reciting scripture to a cow.

“A true alpha male must strike without a shred of guilt. I merely follow his teachings.”

“When did I ever say that?”

“Hundred-Fold.”

This fanatic bastard.

Was Hundred-Fold Sect doctrine a buffet? Pulling out my name whenever convenient to bullshit.

“Birds of a feather really do flock together.”

Goeun clicked her tongue and shifted her gaze.

She crouched right beside Tang Jihye, ready to pat her ilium or something.

“Huh?”

Her eyebrows furrowed downward. Then she spoke with a troubled expression.

“Tang Jihye…… why are you here?”

“Kreururururk.”

Tang Jihye could only wheeze face-down. Only after a long while regulating her breath did her lips twitch.

“You…… fucking bastard……. Shit. I’m gonna kill you.”

She lifted only her forehead and wriggled.

“I’m gonna kill youuuu!!”

She screamed in fury, clawing at the floor.

‘She’ll break her nails like that.’

Still, any pity evaporated.

“Jihye.”

Goeun swept back her bangs with a sigh.

“No, Miss Tang Jihye.”

She lifted her skirt hem.

Swish.

Beneath the side slit hugging her hips to thighs wrapped a black strap. A knife holster storing her long pipe, apparently.

‘Talking to her does make me crave a smoke.’

Goeun bit down on the pipe and smirked.

“At times like this, you don’t say ‘I’m gonna kill you!’ You say ‘Help me’ or ‘Save me,’ got it?”

Whoosh. Smoke enveloped Tang Jihye’s skin.

“How are you still the same as ever?”

“Euuuugh.”

“I distinctly told you to rein in that temper.”

“Kueeeeeh!”

“Or you’d have a short life.”

“A-Alright already!”

“What?”

Tang Jihye squeezed her eyes shut then open.

“……Help me.”

“Can’t hear you~?”

“Save meeeee!”

“That doesn’t sound like someone begging to be saved.”

“Please save meeeee!”

Tang Jihye wailed. Teardrops the size of mung beans beaded at her spiky eye corners one by one.

“There, there~! Good girl~!”

A scene proving that the “ma” in demon and the “ma” in magic shared the same hanja.

“I should have been there during the Orthodox-Demonic War……!”

“Where does a kid get off mentioning the Orthodox-Demonic War.”

“You old hag! Thirty years ago, you weren’t even a fetus—you were sperm!”

A gem of dialogue perfectly suited to Lake City. The two heroines’ eloquence had converged and evolved to match their harsh lives.

“Still, when the entire martial world migrated to Lake City, I was seven.”

“Being older isn’t a brag……”

Tang Jihye muttered through gritted teeth.

“……”

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

A thin vein stood out on her temple. Goeun (mage, 24, single forever) had been scratched.

Meanwhile, Ban backed away three steps with a hint of alarm. He’d guessed Tang Jihye was a jianghu person by sight.

Ban had personally experienced a fragment of Goeun’s power. At their first meeting, he’d foolishly challenged her and nearly died.

‘If the Founding Patriarch’s punch was one of guidance.’

Goeun’s punch was sincere.

‘When flames enveloped her fist, I knew I was screwed……’

There was reason his title for Goeun had solidified as “big sis.”

Anyway, barking “I’m gonna kill you” at such a big sis. And Goeun seemed to take it not as empty words.

‘Meaning they’re on similar levels.’

Ban tucked the crutches back under his arms.

Jianghu folk consider touching the injured a disgrace to the clan. Especially in the hypocritical White Path, it was practically taboo.

‘Unless it’s that one place.’

If not for “that place” obsessed with vendettas, he could sleep soundly without fear of midnight raids…

“I’ll pay! I’ll pay it back, so please heal me! You know how weighty ‘debt’ means coming from me! I’m from the Tang Clan!”

Mercy.

Things had gone south.

Ban urgently glanced at Goeun, pleading with his eyes to quickly heal the dumpling and spare him too.

“You, her.”

Goeun finally spoke.

“I don’t wanna heal you.”

“……What?”

Despair hit Ban.

“Actually, I can’t.”

“Fuck, what?”

Tang Jihye panicked.

“Demonic Cult magic and jianghu internal energy have the worst compatibility. Mess it up, and we both go down.”

“Bullshit!”

“Your mouth reeks of shit.”

Goeun picked her ear with her pinky.

“Anyway, I can’t. Maybe if Ghost Wing Yu Dahui shows up. Come to think of it, she’s same outfit as you. Lick her shoes, and she might heal you? Rank-wise, she’s your superior, right?”

“Fuck! Fuuuuck! Goeun, you! That sesame leaf hair bastard! And Lee Taebaek! I’ll get you all! Huh?!”

Tang Jihye pounded the floor with her fist underside. Rage exploded like fireworks simultaneously in her upper, middle, and lower dantians.

Then a figure brushed Goeun’s shoulder lightly and stepped forward. Lee Taebaek.

“What the fu—.”

“Shut up. Unless you wanna die.”

Lee Taebaek’s alpha aura stunned Tang Jihye. He knelt on one knee and looked down at her. She flinched. Those deep, hollow eyes seemed to pierce her soul.

“……”

“……”

“……Patriarch?”

A moment of deadlock.

“Promise two things. Note this isn’t a request—it’s a notice.”

Lee Taebaek’s voice cut the silence after a while.

“One: Admit this mess is all your own doing. Meaning, don’t whine about paying Ban back once you’re healed.”

“Th-That’s none of your busi—!”

“I said notice.”

Lee Taebaek didn’t wait for a reply.

“The other: Stay away from Eunko Bar from now on. Whether you’re 3rd Battalion Commander or whatever, I’m 9th Battalion anyway—so not my business. But if word gets to Kang Hyeonseong that you barged in here today, you think that One-Man Thousand Kill will sit still?”

“He’ll rip off a limb or two.”

Goeun chimed in, exhaling smoke. Lee Taebaek nodded, staring fixedly at Tang Jihye.

“No matter how much genius rep you have in Tang Clan Tower, you know you’re no match for Kang Hyeonseong. Jianghu folk don’t lie to themselves, at least.”

“……How do you know th—.”

“Notice, second time. No third. Tang Jihye, nod if you get it; stay silent if not.”

Cold.

“Of course, you’ll handle the consequences.”

His words flew like daggers.

“Even if you have to block my blade with a half-ruined dantian—don’t cry foul.”

Color slowly drained from Tang Jihye’s face.

“Got it……”

“Properly.”

“I get it all! Just do something!”

Lee Taebaek paused without reaction, then tugged his lips into a smile.

“You owe me a debt now.”

Lee Taebaek extended his arm. Tang Jihye had no chance to retort.

In truth, the one who incurred the debt was Lee Taebaek. The twist was that the creditor was Ban.

The original plan was for Lee Taebaek to approach Tang Jihye and secretly [nerf] her lower dantian. Then leverage treatment to saddle her with debt. Give sickness, sell the cure—classic. But Ban handled it for him. Good disciple—worth watching.

One might condemn such devilish thinking. But with brains steeped in 「Concept: Robber」 and 「Concept: Psychopath (True)」, his conscience was numb.

This was Lake City’s way, after all. Rather generous, even. Others give sickness and snatch the medicine.

By comparison, Lee Taebaek was positively gentlemanly, a true descendant of Toegye Yi Hwang.

Ah.

One caveat: he wasn’t entirely sure about the treatment. Whether buffs could boost others’ resilience was like a clinical trial.

Whatever the intent, the result was a success—for both Tang Jihye and Lee Taebaek.

“Huaaaah.”

Tang Jihye sprawled out spread-eagled. Lying flat, she prodded her lower abdomen, sighed in relief, and dropped her arms.

But then.

Lee Taebaek, a few steps away, mimicked her—poking his belly and glancing at her alternately.

Repeating this several times, he finally let out a sigh.

‘Looks like.’

During treatment, he’d accidentally absorbed her internal energy. Now his lower abdomen churned, on the verge of bursting.

A portion of the Ten Wings Poison Master’s internal energy rampaged in his lower dantian. If he uttered it now, it would be the finishing touch.

“You’re lucky.”