Fist Demon of Mount Hua - Chapter 85

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 84. There are things that cannot be forgotten, no matter how many years pass—Part 3
Sang-eum County was located at the southernmost tip of Dong-jeong Lake. Though considered relatively quiet compared to Won-gang or Ak-yang, it was nonetheless beautiful enough to draw poets and scholars without end.
With so many transient visitors came an abundance of gambling houses, all vying for their coin. The money earned in these dens flowed directly into Sang-eum’s underground and into Ha-o Gate’s coffers.
Given such circumstances, Ha-o Gate and the Underground could hardly manage their gambling establishments any other way.
Within Sang-eum County, Ha-o Gate controlled three gambling houses in total, and among these, the one on Mantong Street was by far the largest.
Today, as always, the gambling house was packed with patrons. Their eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with fever, fixed upon the table where play was unfolding.
They could think of nothing else, and had no capacity left to try. Their every nerve was concentrated on the two dice rolling across the table’s surface.
It was gambling at its simplest and most addictive—dice. The two cubes tumbled across the table’s worn wood before settling, both faces showing the number six.
“Double six.”
The highest possible roll with two dice. In that instant, fortune and ruin traced opposite paths.
“Huzzah!”
“Ah!”
Unfortunately, those crying out in joy numbered only a handful. The hopeless far outnumbered them.
The man was one of them. His eyes split wide, his lips thrust forward, his teeth protruding. His face called to mind a rat.
“Damn it all!”
The man struck the floor with both fists, his head bowed. Fury blazed across his features.
Today he had squandered his last remaining coin. His pockets were empty now, and he faced the immediate problem of where to sleep.
“That bastard’s back again?”
Do Sang Cheon, who managed the Mantong Street gambling house, frowned.
The rat-faced man was called No Cheol. By his own account, he had once been part of a famous bandit gang. But among those who had washed up here, not a single soul lacked a story, and everyone claimed to have been great in their former days.
Then No Cheol’s gaze met Do Sang Cheon’s. At once, a servile grin spread across his face. He approached, wringing his hands.
“Heheheh! Elder.”
“Who said you were my younger brother?”
“Come now, what’s with all this coldness between us?”
“What are we to each other?”
“Why must you hurt me this way? Your younger brother is sorrowful.”
“Were you ever my brother?”
“Ah, Elder! Please, save your poor younger brother.”
No Cheol dropped to his knees before Do Sang Cheon.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“Lend me some silver, Elder, I beg you!”
“Hmph! How could I trust you?”
“Come now! Why speak so? Have I ever defaulted on a debt? Please, save me just this once.”
No Cheol seized Do Sang Cheon’s ankle, pleading desperately. At the sight of such abject desperation, Do Sang Cheon smiled.
Though No Cheol was merely one among countless gamblers, his skill with a blade was respectable enough. If he brought the man into his circle now, there might come a time when he’d prove useful.
Do Sang Cheon gestured to one of his subordinates.
“Give this wretch fifty taels of silver.”
“Thank you, Elder. I shall never forget this kindness.”
No Cheol bowed repeatedly to Do Sang Cheon.
“Enough. Go lose it at the tables like you always do.”
“Much obliged.”
“Heheheh!”
Do Sang Cheon smiled as No Cheol rushed away without so much as a backward glance.
No doubt No Cheol would never repay the debt. Money never leaked out of the gambling house.
Whatever coin entered here stayed here. It left only when the house itself collapsed.
This was known by all under heaven—all, that is, except those who gambled.
To Do Sang Cheon’s eye, No Cheol’s fate was transparent as glass.
“Still, why did they want me to report on this worthless dog’s whereabouts?”
Do Sang Cheon tilted his head, genuinely perplexed.
In his sight, No Cheol was garbage—garbage so far gone as to be beyond any redemption.
But the thought passed quickly. Do Sang Cheon soon dismissed No Cheol from his mind. In any case, the man would squander even the borrowed coin and become his faithful tool.
‘What I do with that wretch is my own affair. Heheheh!’
Do Sang Cheon had folded his arms with that pleasant thought when—
Bang!
The gambling house door suddenly burst open.
“What kind of reckless fool smashes the door like—”
Do Sang Cheon’s head snapped around.
A limping figure entered his field of vision.
“Now even the lame come carrying coin.”
Well, as long as money changed hands, a cripple mattered not, and if all four limbs were severed, that mattered not either—but still, the bare minimum of courtesy had to be observed.
“Who the hell is this guy?”
“I’ll find out.”
A burly subordinate standing nearby scowled and approached the limping man. He grabbed the man by the shoulder.
“Who are you?”
The brute was just beginning his intimidation when—
Bang!
Thunder cracked through the air, and the man slammed into the wall. His chest caved inward; his neck twisted at an unnatural angle. There was no need to check—it was clear he was dead.
The air in the gambling den turned to ice.
The murmur died. Everyone held their breath.
The limping man opened his mouth.
“Who’s in charge here?”
“Ha! What the hell does this bastard want now?”
Do Sang Cheon rose from his seat, irritation flashing across his face. In moments, the martial experts guarding the den had gathered around him.
They were all hard men from the streets, fearless and ruthless by nature. Do Sang Cheon trusted them.
“If a cripple comes to a gambling den, he should keep his mouth shut and gamble quietly, not make a scene like this. Get that bastard on his knees in front of me.”
“Yes!”
His subordinates shouted in acknowledgment and rushed toward the limping man.
The limping man turned his head and looked at Do Sang Cheon. The moment their eyes met, Do Sang Cheon felt every hair on his body stand on end.
A dizzying sense of isolation and terror crashed over him like a tidal wave—as if he’d been hurled naked into a cage with a wild beast.
Facing this sensation for the first time in his life, Do Sang Cheon hesitated, unsure how to respond. And in that moment of hesitation, disaster fell upon his men.
Crack! Crack!
Explosions of force erupted in quick succession, and the subordinates were flung in all directions like shrapnel from a shell.
“Aaaaah!”
“Ugh!”
The gamblers watched the tables splinter and the men sprawl across the floor, terror seizing them. These men were already more than dead.
Their skulls shattered, their chests crushed inward. Even as their final breath left them, their eyes remained wide open, as if they had never comprehended death at all.
Not a single corpse remained intact. Their bodies were rent and broken, as if crushed beneath a massive boulder.
The sight of such carnage left everyone frozen in silent horror.
The one who had scattered death through the gambling den was Dam Ho.
Dam Ho flicked a finger toward Do Sang Cheon. The moment he was singled out, Do Sang Cheon’s body went rigid.
He understood instinctively that Dam Ho was a master beyond any comparison. Like a frog before a serpent, unable to move, he felt his entire body petrifying simply from meeting Dam Ho’s gaze.
‘Should I run?’
His opponent was crippled. If he made up his mind to flee, the man could never catch him. But Do Sang Cheon shook his head.
He was the manager of this den. Others might escape, but if the person in charge abandoned his post and fled, the Ha-o Gate would not let it stand.
Do Sang Cheon walked toward Dam Ho like a lamb led to slaughter, head bowed.
Standing before Dam Ho, he mustered what little courage remained and spoke.
“Where are you from, sir?”
“The Black Tiger Bandit Gang.”
“I beg your pardon?”
At Dam Ho’s cryptic reply, Do Sang Cheon lifted his head. In that instant, their eyes met again.
‘Gasp!’
Confronted with the utter absence of human feeling in Dam Ho’s gaze, Do Sang Cheon quickly lowered his head.
‘That’s not human.’
In a gambling den where the dregs of humanity gathered, Do Sang Cheon had seen every sort of scoundrel imaginable. But in all his years, he had never once encountered eyes like Dam Ho’s.
The mere sight of that gaze drained the will to fight from him. His legs trembled. This had never happened before.
Dam Ho spoke again.
“Where’s the thief from the Black Tiger Bandit Gang?”
“Ah!”
Only then did Do Sang Cheon recall the orders that had come down from the Ak-yang branch not long ago: to locate fugitives who had operated in Shenxi Province. And he had reported that one such criminal was here.
“Ah, so you’re from the Ak-yang branch? You should have said so earlier……”
“Where?”
The desiccated tone, utterly devoid of emotion, made Do Sang Cheon shudder once more.
His eyes darted toward No Cheol, who sat alone in a corner. Dam Ho’s gaze followed.
No Cheol suddenly stiffened.
For all his wasting away in gambling, he still possessed enough instinct to read a room.
‘This man is far beyond what I could handle.’
He hadn’t even seen how the four men moved before they fell dead. It was beyond the reach of his perception.
“Hehe!”
No Cheol’s lips curled into a servile smile.
For just a moment, the corners of Dam Ho’s mouth twitched upward as well. The movement was barely a twitch of facial muscle, but No Cheol recognized it—Dam Ho was smiling.
Dam Ho’s twisted lips finally opened.
“Long time no see.”
“Do you… do you know me?”
“I know you well. I haven’t forgotten your face for a single moment.”
“What?”
Confusion flickered across No Cheol’s face. But quick-witted as he was, he sensed that Dam Ho harbored no goodwill toward him.
‘As if there’s only one or two places where I’ve made enemies.’
Back when he’d been with the Black Tiger Bandit Gang, there was nothing to fear. Robbery, rape, depravity—it was all standard fare.
He’d killed countless people, made far more weep tears of blood.
Dam Ho moved toward No Cheol.
Scrape! Thud! Scrape! Thud!
Dam Ho’s distinctive footsteps rang out like music.
With each step he took, the gamblers inside flinched. It felt as though his footfalls were crushing their very hearts.
No Cheol felt the same weight.
He waved his hands frantically.
“I don’t know who you are, Great Master.”
“It’s fine.”
“What do you mean, fine?”
“Soon you’ll remember everything. So it’s fine.”
Dam Ho’s voice was low and raw, as if lined with phlegm. Yet it cut through the air with an unnaturally clear precision.
No Cheol gritted his teeth.
Now he was certain—Dam Ho held nothing but malice toward him. He couldn’t simply sit here and accept whatever was coming.
“Damn it!”
Cursing, No Cheol hurled himself toward the window.
No matter how strong his opponent’s martial skill, the man was crippled. Once he escaped this place, flight was certain. After all, he’d always had considerable confidence in his Gyeong Gong.
But No Cheol realized at once how hollow that hope was.
Before he reached the window, something pale cut across his path. It didn’t take long to recognize that the obstacle was Dam Ho himself.
Crash!
A single punch drove No Cheol into the floor. The impact was like being struck by a massive hammer—every bone in his body came loose.
“Ugh—”
No Cheol wheezed. The pain was so severe he could barely breathe. His entire body felt like it was tearing apart.
Dam Ho knelt on one knee, looking down at No Cheol.
“You’re fine. Humans don’t die from that.”
“Please… tell me what I did wrong—”
“You still don’t remember?”
Dam Ho whispered, and No Cheol recoiled in horror.
He wasn’t alone. Do Sang Cheon and everyone else in the gambling hall felt it too—a dread so thick they could barely draw breath.
Overwhelmed by Dam Ho’s presence, none dared even consider fleeing.
No Cheol’s eyes trembled. No matter how hard he searched his memory, he found no recollection of a blood debt with the man before him.
How could he forget someone with eyes so terrifying?
Unless he was already dead…
Then a memory surfaced.
A boy, from so long ago he’d nearly erased the image—a boy with those same chilling eyes.
An untrained vicious creature who’d bitten through a comrade’s throat. So vicious that the Black Tiger Bandit Gang had lost a man that day—thirty-seven had become thirty-six. The gang had been thrown into chaos, and No Cheol had carried the wound of that memory for years.
“You… you are?”
“You’ve remembered at last.”
“How?”
“I told you. It would come back to you on its own.”
“How did you survive? How?”
“How I survived doesn’t matter. What matters is what happens to you.”
“What?”
As doubt twisted No Cheol’s expression, Dam Ho seized his pinky finger.
Crack!
“Ahhhhh!”
In an instant, No Cheol’s pinky shattered like a biscuit. Bone crumbled, muscle pulped.
Next came his ring finger. As the bone splintered and muscle compressed, a pain incomparably greater than before pierced through No Cheol’s entire body.
“Scream!”
No Cheol shrieked in agony. Dam Ho watched with something like amusement.
“Does it hurt?”
“Madman! Are you… are you even human? How could any human—”
No Cheol glared at Dam Ho with bloodshot eyes.
“You all did the same. You toyed with my father, my mother, the people of my village—killed them slowly, like they were playthings.”
“I, I didn’t….”
“I’m going to break your fingers one by one. Your wrists. Your arms. Your toes. Your shins. Your thighs, crushed to pulp. Your spine comes next, and your shoulder blades last. You’ll live as long as possible, and you’ll feel every ounce of agony as your entire body crumbles to dust.”
“Monster! At least….”
Crack!
No Cheol bit down on his tongue, desperate to end it. But before he could, Dam Ho dislocated his jaw.
“I told you. You won’t die that easily.”
Dam Ho crushed No Cheol’s middle finger.
The people in the gambling house learned something new that day: human muscle and bone could shatter with such terrible ease.
“Ugghhh!”
A few of them finally couldn’t hold back, retching violently.
A man was being unmade before their eyes. Disassembled. And they had to watch it all with clear minds, unable to look away.
‘A demon.’
‘This thing isn’t human.’
Unbearable terror seeped into their very souls.
No Cheol murmured something incoherent. They all understood: he was begging to be killed.
But no one moved. Not a single soul….
Snap!
Another finger shattered.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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