Chapter 203
Chapter 203. Cat Whiskers
A tense air hung over the first floor of the inn.
Only a single table stood between the two martial artists.
Zhuge Hyang felt the gazes of the spectators looking down from above.
There clearly hadn't been many guests on this floor, yet all of them had moved to the railings, eyes glittering—a ridiculous sight.
The first-floor patrons went even further, losing their tables and still crowding by the pillars, whispering excitedly.
Zhuge Hyang found this entire situation absurd.
Even the Young Lord, still so young, waited for his opening strike with a resolute face, like a puppy that didn't know fear.
He wanted to send out a razor-sharp whirlwind that would tear the boy's limbs apart, but he restrained his anger.
There was no one to blame. It was all self-contradiction.
Just as he had thought he couldn't run wild because the Young Lord belonged to an allied clan, he himself also couldn't tear apart the puppy before his eyes on a whim.
He had to finish it as quickly as possible, gently, as if granting mercy.
Zhuge Hyang took out an iron thread from his robe. However, instead of gripping it, he placed it on the table as it was.
Thud.
"The Young Lord yielded the opening strike, so I should yield as well."
Zhuge Hyang said to Tang Hak, narrowing his eyes.
"Of course, the Young Lord may use hidden weapons."
Tang Hak blinked, not immediately understanding.
"You mean you won't use a weapon?"
"I'm fighting a junior who isn't even half my age. I should impose at least that much restraint on myself. Now then, I'll go in first."
Zhuge Hyang was toying with Tang Hak.
He even announced his attack, as if teaching a child who had just learned to walk.
In truth, since they were already so close, Tang Hak couldn't escape even if he heard the warning.
Zhuge Hyang thrust out his hand swiftly. Planning to inflict a severe internal injury at the outset and end the fight, he aimed for Tang Hak's middle dantian.
Paat.
However, the arm that had shot straight out suddenly changed direction. Zhuge Hyang withdrew his hand. He covered his cheek and stepped back a full palm's length.
Zhuge Hyang's lips moved in disbelief.
"...... Did you just attack my face?"
The Young Lord, extending his empty hand forward, affirmed it.
"I'd like to discard my weapon and match your level as well, but as you know, my martial art is a throwing-weapon technique, so I can't discard it. Instead, I'll fight with just this dart."
Chwaak.
The dart that had fallen to the floor returned to Tang Hak's hand.
On its small protrusion, a single drop of Zhuge Hyang's blood clung.
Zhuge Hyang's narrow eyes thinned even further.
Tang Hak felt his shoulders stiffen and deliberately straightened his back.
Killing intent filled the surroundings.
The aura Zhuge Hyang had been suppressing under a guise of gentleness burst forth. Tang Hak realized that he was genuinely enraged. And he also knew that he was not yet a match for him.
His goal was not to win.
'I'll grind your honor into the dirt as well.'
Tang Hak gripped the dart.
He intended to leave as many small wounds as possible.
He would make it known that a man of Zhuge Hyang's stature fought a twenty-year-old Young Lord in the marketplace and walked away with wounds.
Someone in as high a position as Zhuge Hyang met many people, and thus had many enemies as well. If he went around with scars on his face, plenty of disgraceful rumors would spread.
If he cursed the Tang Clan with that face, people would think it was out of resentment after being beaten by the Tang Clan's Young Lord.
For a high-ranking Murim Alliance official who had worried about his own reputation to the very end while pretending to be gentle, that would be humiliation enough.
Tang Hak focused, drawing the energy that began in his dantian upward. A soft warmth swept over his shoulders and back, loosening his hardened muscles.
The moment internal energy gathered at the acupoints in his fingertips, he threw the dart again.
Clang
Zhuge Hyang was not fooled twice.
He twisted his head aside and charged at Tang Hak, now empty-handed.
Thump.
"Ugh!"
This time, Zhuge Hyang's hand struck squarely into Tang Hak's solar plexus.
It felt as if his flesh were being roughly torn apart by an axe.
Tang Hak's upper body bent forward. Then Zhuge Hyang struck the nape of his neck, leapt, and stepped on Tang Hak's back.
Thud. Thump.
It happened in an instant.
Fist and kick, loaded with dense internal energy, struck the Young Lord's acupoints precisely, severing the flow of qi.
Tang Hak's internal energy, unable to go forward or back, collided with the invading energy inside him. It was like a powder magazine exploding. With deep internal injuries, Tang Hak spat blood.
"Keuk."
Only three attacks had landed, yet his body was gravely damaged.
Zhuge Hyang pressed the momentum, intending to end it quickly, and put strength into his toes to kick Tang Hak's side.
Slash.
However, he withdrew his foot and landed back atop the table.
'...... Damn it.'
Zhuge Hyang brushed his opposite cheek.
While he had focused all his senses on his foot, the returning dart had sliced his face once again.
Judging by the lack of pain, it was a shallow cut, but still, a drop or two of blood stained his hand.
Furious to the very crown of his head, Zhuge Hyang lunged at Tang Hak as if flying.
With his internal injuries severe, Tang Hak couldn't gather internal energy and simply hurled the dart.
It grazed the cheek precisely once more, but Zhuge Hyang ignored it and extended a single finger.
Thud.
As if intending to prevent him from throwing hidden weapons, he sent a finger-wind into the inside of Tang Hak's elbow. Then, like throwing hidden weapons, Zhuge Hyang consecutively launched finger-winds at the Young Lord's waist and chest.
Swish.
However, the arrow-like winds failed to pierce flesh and scattered in midair.
Tang Hak, rolling along the floor to evade the finger-winds, picked up the fallen dart.
Zhuge Hyang advanced again, sending out another finger-wind, but Tang Hak twisted his body and threw the dart as it was. The dart did not block the finger-wind and instead sliced Zhuge Hyang's cheek yet again as it flew past.
"Kreuk."
Unable to contain his rage, Zhuge Hyang let out a groan and clutched his cheek.
'Why the hell is this madman so obsessed with my face!'
He was a madman. And moving like that made no sense either.
His internal injuries had to be severe, yet the Young Lord brushed the dust from his upper body as if he had merely taken a few hits. With his internal energy twisted, it should have been difficult even to gather energy, yet the hidden weapon still grazed his face with precision.
As Tang Hak tried to rise, a twitch passed through Zhuge Hyang's brow.
'I have to finish this before he recovers his momentum.'
He stretched out his hand and sent a finger-wind toward Tang Hak's lower dantian. Tang Hak grabbed the leg of the table next to him and pulled it forward.
Bang!
A large hole formed in the thick wooden table.
The observing martial artists murmured in admiration, some whispering among themselves that Zhuge Hyang was serious.
The reason Zhuge Hyang focused on internal injuries rather than harming the Young Lord's body was to earn a reputation for "fighting while holding back!"
But with the table shattered like that, everyone realized Zhuge Hyang was fighting with full strength.
'Damn it.'
Thinking it a setback, Zhuge Hyang leaped onto the table and flipped it over. But there was no one behind the table.
The moment he landed and quickly turned his head—
Whoosh.
A blade brushed past his cheek.
Blood spread at the corner of Tang Hak's mouth as he stood by the pillar, smiling.
Zhuge Hyang sealed his mouth.
This madman was genuinely obsessed with his cheek.
According to the plan, by now Tang Hak should have been lying on the floor, and Zhuge Hyang would be holding the Young Lord's hand to help him up, praising him as a promising junior.
But Tang Hak was no longer the timid Young Lord he once knew.
'I've heard he trained under that Mad Green Hound, but I never imagined he'd change this much.'
Zhuge Hyang was at a loss.
Regretting not having discarded the iron thread, he clenched his fist.
At that moment, Tang Hak's gaze flicked toward the fallen dart. Without thinking, Zhuge Hyang charged.
Whack!
The Young Lord caught the fist aimed at his solar plexus. A barrage of punches followed like a storm, but Tang Hak struck Zhuge Hyang’s wrists, causing the attacks to slide off.
The Black Sky Demon used to throw objects randomly at Tang Hak when he got angry, sometimes even dozens of flying daggers at once under the pretext of training. Having trained to dodge them desperately, avoiding Zhuge Hyang's relentless punches was child's play for Tang Hak.
This was the moment when a body that had endured two years of abuse yielded unexpected results.
"Wow, I can't even see his hands, and he's blocking everything?"
"Must be instinct. I heard the Tang Clan's Young Lord is a genius comparable to Namgung Jin—sounds like it wasn't just a rumor."
"I heard it too. That he slaughtered a hundred Blood Sect members by himself".
"They say he's better in actual combat than in formal martial arts. Seeing it now, it's believable. Fighting Zhuge Hyang and holding out this long?"
"I lost count at twenty strikes, but that's impressive. Can any martial artist his age withstand that many exchanges with a Tang Clan elder?"
"Maybe Namgung Jin? Still, the Tang Clan's main strength is hidden weapons, yet he's faced Zhuge Hyang for over fifteen minutes with just a single dagger. It’s a miracle".
The martial artists chattered endlessly, intrigued. Most outsiders had left, leaving mostly locals who lived under the Tang Clan's influence. Everyone had heard of Zhuge Hyang. Yet seeing a famous martial artist struggle against a twenty-year-old Young Lord was astounding.
Even so, Zhuge Hyang was an elder of the Tang Clan.
As the exchanges continued, Tang Hak began to falter.
Smash!
The moment Tang Hak failed to block, Zhuge Hyang's strike landed on his heart.
Without a sound, Tang Hak flew backward.
Bang!
The force behind the strike struck precisely. It could have been fatal under normal circumstances.
Zhuge Hyang swallowed heavily and approached Tang Hak. The Young Lord leaned against a broken pillar, groaning.
'A bit later than I expected, but...'
Zhuge Hyang caught his breath, planning to speak, and waited a moment.
Then—
Shing!
A blade grazed his other cheek.
Incredibly, the dagger returned perfectly into the Young Lord's hand.
Tang Hak raised his head, blinking his heavy eyelids, and looked at him. He parted his bloodstained lips and smiled as if to say something.
Thud.
Tang Hak finally lost his strength and his head slumped forward.
Silence fell over the inn.
He wasn't dead.
The Young Lord's body rose and fell slightly with his breath.
Zhuge Hyang swallowed dryly.
'Why did he smile?'
He couldn't understand it, and the feeling was unsettling.
Though uneasy from being overpowered, Zhuge Hyang cleared his throat and turned away.
All the inn's patrons had their eyes fixed on him.
Yet their expressions were odd. They were neither surprised nor fearful.
Their brows and cheeks twitched while their mouths remained tightly shut.
The Black Sky Demon and Hwang Bo Rim had similar expressions. Zhuge Hyang expected them to worry about Tang Hak being hurt, but they seemed unconcerned.
Of course, he wasn't dead, and the internal injuries would heal quickly if the Black Sky Demon chose to tend to him.
'At least they have some conscience.'
He had worried that the Black Sky Demon would attack for harming the Young Lord, but he didn't seem angry.
At that moment, Zhuge Daejeong approached cautiously.
"U-uncle, let's go now."
He urged Zhuge Hyang to leave while glancing at the surroundings.
Still watching his frightened nephew, Zhuge Hyang sighed.
Though victorious, he gained nothing from this fight.
He nodded and gestured a bow toward the Black Sky Demon.
"I'll take my leave. Please tell him it was a good fight."
"Understood. Don't worry about the Young Lord. He'll be fine by tomorrow."
"Elder Zhuge Hyang, you should use qinggong to get home quickly—ugh."
Hwang Bo Rim tried to speak urgently but was silenced by a fist from the Black Sky Demon. An expensive bottle of liquor toppled beside him. Was he talking nonsense because he was drunk?
Yet the atmosphere suggested otherwise.
Ignoring the uneasy feeling, Zhuge Hyang left the inn.
Shortly after he left, laughter erupted inside.
"Haha, he looks just like a cat!"
"It'll be a disaster if Zhuge Hyang looks in a mirror".
"Is that Young Lord insane? How could he do that..."
"They say you shouldn't insult someone's parents, and Zhuge Hyang did cross the line. Calling his father and sister spies for the Blood Sect, this much mockery is nothing".
"From now on, we should call him Zhuge Myo (Cat) instead of Zhuge Hyang."
The drunken patrons laughed and mocked Zhuge Hyang.
The Black Sky Demon approached Tang Hak and tapped his head.
"You alright?"
"Yes..."
The Black Sky Demon let out a small laugh.
"Did you see that?"
"Yes."
He patted Tang Hak's head.
"Well done."
The corners of Tang Hak's lips rose, though his expression remained dark. Tang Hak closed his eyes, lost in some unfathomable thought.