Chapter 35
Chapter 35: Hongdae Punch King (1)
"Ooooh!"
"Not bad!"
"Insane!"
A crowd surrounding the Punch Machine occasionally burst into cheers.
As Mu-yeong squeezed his way inside, a man was walking out dusting off his hands.
"Aw, I could've done better than that. What a waste."
Behind him, three people were already waiting their turn.
A man with a topknot, a woman who appeared to sit somewhere between third-rate and second-rate, and one thickset, muscle-bound fellow who looked every bit like a bandit.
Mu-yeong's eyes landed on the man—not quite at Shen Long's level, but no slouch in terms of muscle.
Greenwood Bandits, perhaps?
The amount of internal energy he gave off was roughly that of a first-rate practitioner.
A scraggly beard and numerous scars only lent further weight to that assessment.
Yu-na whispered.
"Is this your first time at a place like this, Mu-yeong?"
"It is. I'm not really the type to go out much in the first place."
"I can guarantee you a hundred percent—if you film this and upload it as a vlog, it'll get insane views. Especially with you in it."
"That would be good."
He watched the scene unfold over someone's shoulder as the first man stepped up in front of the Punch Machine.
He took a few breaths, then swung his arm with full force.
Thwack!
Diiiiing!
The numbers flashed and spun before settling one by one.
[850 points]
"Damn, it went down from last time. Did I hold back a bit?"
The topknot man glanced at his score, rubbed his shoulder, and walked off.
But Mu-yeong sensed something odd.
He hit it so carelessly and still got 850?
His power distribution, his stance, the angle of the punch—wasn't all of it a complete mess?
Then why was it giving out a score like that?
Surprised in more ways than one, Mu-yeong leaned in toward Yu-na and murmured in her ear.
"Is the max score on this thing 9,999?"
"Take away one of those nines."
"...... So it wasn't for nothing that you asked for a 100-point lead."
"Hehe, figured it out now? When else would I ever get to beat you? Looking forward to a nice lunch later."
Yu-na gave a polite bow, her belly button to the front.
Combined with her playfully sweet tone, even Mu-yeong couldn't help but crack a smile.
—lolololol
—He fell for it immediately lol
—Still cute tho so it's fine lol
—Fr when are we gonna see Yu-na like this again
In the meantime, the second person in line—the woman—was taking her position.
She scuffed her feet against the ground to plant herself firmly, then let out a long, slow breath.
A sudden question came to mind.
"But can a small machine like this withstand the strength of a martial artist?"
"Ah, this one's actually a new model made specifically for martial artists, so it's fine. Apparently it's incredibly durable and absorbs shock really well, so it almost never breaks."
"Almost?"
"It does break down every once in a while...... but they say that's from prolonged use wearing it down. Oh, look over there. It says they just recently replaced it."
Mu-yeong looked where Yu-na was pointing, and there was a large notice posted prominently.
[The use of energy is strictly prohibited. Violators will be held liable for damages.]
—Replacement Date: 2025/03/20
March 20th.
Exactly one week ago from now.
In that case, it was safe to say this was essentially brand new.
Just then, a thunderous impact rang out.
THWOOM!
It was clearly stronger than a civilian's hit, but the result was nothing remarkable.
Diiiiing!
[875 points]
"Seems like this thing is structured to make it genuinely hard to push the score up."
"Everyone says it's stingy. They say it gives a lot as a base score just to make you feel good, but dragging it any higher than that is seriously tough."
Mu-yeong glanced sideways at Yu-na.
The movement she'd shown in Battle Attack, the subtle muscle tone beneath the surface, the body without an ounce of excess fat—proof of rigorous training.
Taking everything into account, the probability that she'd exceed the 850 the first man had scored was quite high.
That meant the minimum he'd need to win the bet was 950 points.
As he casually began loosening up his body, Yu-na nudged his arm.
"Mu-yeong. Just saying this just in case—I'm absolutely not going easy on you."
"870 points is your ceiling at best, isn't it?"
"Oh....... The confidence. You're saying you can just casually score 970 or something?"
"What's the point of being vague about it. Might as well aim for a perfect score."
['Warrior' has donated 1,000 Won.]
—Is that actually possible? Some absolute madman once hit this thing with a sledgehammer and still only got 890 lol
—Oh right, I remember that lol
—900 is genuinely the Wall of Despair
—A first-rate master can still break 900 though. Everything above that is the problem lol
"If a first-rate master scores 900, then who in the world gets a perfect score?"
—Nobody's ever hit 999 even once.
—Not that high, but there was one person who hit 970.
—It was someone who practiced fist arts, but who was it again.
—Oh, isn't that the Tyrant Fist Gwak Ju-ak?
—Yep yep, now that you mention it. That's the one.
It was someone Mu-yeong remembered as well.
A master of the previous generation who had built a wide reputation on the strength of his fists alone—someone he had heard of even before entering his Closed-Door Training Chamber.
A master like that, and only 970.......
['WillEatLunchWell' has donated 1,000 Won.]
—You know what? The company that made this officially announced that 999 points is something no human force could ever achieve.
—At first I figured it was just viral marketing, but seriously nobody's ever done it lol
—Fr it really wasn't an exaggeration
—No idea how they set it up to work like that lol
—Impressive either way. The machine just tanks it no matter how hard you beat it.
Hearing that, his curiosity surged sharply.
To think that no human strength could achieve a perfect score.
While Mu-yeong was briefly lost in thought, the bandit-looking fellow stepped forward.
"Finally my turn! Even a Punch Machine is nothing once it falls into the hands of me, Gwak-ju! Kuhahahaha!"
At Gwak-ju's words, a few of the onlookers reacted.
"Gwak-ju? Don't tell me that's the Gwak-ju from the Seventy-Two Greenwood Strongholds?"
"Oh, you're right. That guy is insanely famous for his strength. I recognized his face from Newtube."
"Wow....... An actual named figure just showed up. This'll be fun."
I thought he looked like a bandit—turns out he actually was one.
Whoosh, whoosh!
Gwak-ju rolled his arms and neck to loosen up his muscles.
He then stomped both feet into the ground and settled into his stance.
"Now watch! The historic moment where I, Lord Gwak-ju, sets a new record!"
Forearms as thick as an average person's thigh.
The crowd took a collective step back in the face of his overwhelming presence.
Yu-na slipped behind Mu-yeong too, peering out from behind him with just her head poking out.
The hand gripping his sleeve was tense with force.
"Here I go!"
Gwak-ju brought his fist down with tremendous force.
KRAAAANG!
"Kyaaah!"
"Wh-what?! The ground is shaking?!"
"What the—!"
For a moment, the ground within roughly a 1-meter radius heaved and trembled.
A few people stumbled from the small-scale tremor.
The Punch Machine, in contrast, stood perfectly intact as if nothing had happened at all.
The score read:
[940 points]
"Wooooah!"
"He just blew past 900—the score everyone said was impossible to crack!"
"940 is insane!"
"That's insane!"
The chat window also erupted at the sight.
—Wow, that guy just set another record lol
—Last time it was 935, right?
—The difficulty goes absolutely ballistic every 10 points lol
—The fact that all that force only got 940 is the more shocking part lolllll
"Wow, wow....... That's incredible."
Yu-na's eyes went wide, and she quietly stepped away from Mu-yeong.
She dusted herself off, then spoke in a deflated voice.
"I'm up next, and after seeing that, I just feel kind of......y'know."
"What's the problem?"
"Hmm....... You know when you go to karaoke and the person before you sings really well, and then suddenly your turn feels kind of awkward? Exactly that kind of feeling."
"It's fine. If anything, that works in my favor."
"...... I'm going to squeeze out every last drop of strength I've got when I hit this thing. And I'm going to order something really expensive for lunch."
Yu-na gave a huff and stepped forward.
—My heart is pounding.
—Wonder how many points she'll get lol
—She's got some experience so she might hit 870?
—That'd mean Mu-yeong needs to hit at least 970 to win the bet lol
—970 is the all-time record—how is he supposed to pull that off? lol
—Isn't it obvious—it means he's buying lunch.
"Hut!"
Yu-na reached her arm out and began stretching every which way.
Then she grabbed her right wrist with her left hand, and drove her fist down with everything she had.
Thwack!
Diiiiing!
[870 points]
"Oh! Ten points up from last time! Mu-yeong, how was that?"
"Better than I expected."
"Right? I thought so too. I think this score is more than safe enough."
Without missing a beat, Yu-na flashed a bright smile and stepped aside.
She then patted Mu-yeong twice on the back.
"It's okay. I do have a conscience, so I'm not going to order anything too expensive. I'll pick something reasonable."
"That kind of thing you say after the result is out."
"Aw....... There's no way it's going to be 970, right? I know you're incredibly strong, but that's impossible."
Yu-na took back the camera and positioned herself beside the Punch Machine.
She adjusted the angle so Mu-yeong would be in full frame, then said nonchalantly:
"Everyone, what score do you think Mu-yeong is going to get? 940, 950. Oh, what, 960 now? You're all expecting so much?"
In truth, Yu-na was privately estimating somewhere around that range herself.
The physicality he'd shown in Battle Attack had seemed to put him in the upper echelon even among martial artists.
Of course, she did wonder whether that would translate the same way in real life.
He'll do well, I'm sure. He's on a completely different level from me.
Meanwhile, Mu-yeong was deep in serious deliberation.
From Gwak-ju's strike just now, he'd already gauged what it would take to produce a meaningful score.
He'd confirmed too that this machine was considerably sturdier than expected.
In that case, it should be fine to use that.
Mu-yeong opened and closed his fist repeatedly, then rolled up his sleeve.
"Yu-na."
"Yes?"
"Step back."
"Like this?"
"No. Much further."
Once she had moved about 5 meters away, Mu-yeong spread his feet shoulder-width apart.
He extended his arm behind him and slowly regulated his breathing.
It's been a very long time since I last used this.
The Heavenly Demon Sky-Shattering Fist.
A fist art he hadn't actually needed to learn.
But he had acquired it as a contingency for when he had no weapon—he just hadn't expected to use it here, of all places.
Flinch.
People who instinctively sensed that something unprecedented was about to happen began backing away.
Under normal circumstances they would have been filming the moment on their phones, but the scene was so surreal that not a single person did.
Except for the live broadcast Yu-na was running.
—Hey, something feels off about this.
—I've never seen Mu-yeong look this serious before.
—Is he actually about to do something insane?
—What if he's about to set a new record???
—Let's gooo, 980!
Gulp.
Yu-na, feeling the complex and charged atmosphere, found herself swallowing without thinking.
Not blinking even once, she watched as Mu-yeong finally drove his fist downward.
In that instant, Yu-na saw it clearly.
The Punch Machine that had stood tall and unshaken through every impact up until now—
KRZZZZZT!
—crumple like a sheet of paper.