The Reformed Genius of the Sichuan Tang Clan - Chapter 67

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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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Chapter 67
The morning of the Main Tournament’s fourth round.
The Dang brothers clustered before the bracket board.
“Well, well. Did they shave their heads and their consciences at the same time?”
“Ha. Predictable as always.”
“We were wondering when we’d get to show Revenge and Influence, but it seems there’s no need.”
“Indeed.”
They all stood at a crooked angle, speaking in low voices.
Next to Dang Sanho’s name plate was Hwangbo Taegang’s.
Next to Dang Youxuan’s name plate was Hyeddo’s.
“Don’t you think this is what they want?”
“What?”
“To crack their skulls open and knock some sense into them—pfff!”
“Young. Your mouth. Your mouth.”
“We’re still outside.”
“Looks like Young has been quite pent up.”
“Elder brother, help me rein him in, would you?”
Dang Sanho smiled faintly and silently mouthed, “Why me?”
Realizing he’d sought agreement from the wrong person, Dang Eunho immediately clung to Dang Youxuan instead.
“Older broooother.”
“What? He said it perfectly.”
“Ah. Please, brother.”
With one hand clamping Dang Young’s mouth shut and the other grasping Dang Youxuan’s arm while hanging on him, Dang Sanho burst out laughing.
“Just enjoy it.”
“I would like to.”
“You’ll enjoy the Martial Matches more than anyone once they start.”
“Right? Of course I will. Hehe.”
“Good spirit.”
Dang Sanho led the way, while Dang Youxuan dragged along his brothers, each suspended from an arm.
They’d barely settled and exchanged a few words before the tournament began.
“The Main Tournament’s fourth round—first match: Dang Sanho of the Sichuan Dang Family versus Hwangbo Taegang of the Hwangbo Clan!”
Dang Sanho and Hwangbo Taegang.
The two had long been known to each other as worthy opponents.
In truth, it was a rivalry formed and spread through Hwangbo Taegang’s own voice.
Yet over all this time, neither Hwangbo Taegang nor any of the Hwangbo Clan’s rising talents had ever beaten Dang Sanho.
Hwangbo Taegang’s jealousy of Dang Sanho seemed deep enough to pierce the heavens.
For him, Dang Sanho was no mere worthy opponent.
He was someone who had to be crushed and surpassed.
It was this very reason that Hwangbo Taegang had honed his Fist Technique to specialize in blocking Hidden Needles.
‘But those without a goal beyond themselves cannot truly grow.’
The reason for growth may come from others.
Yet the goal of growth must lie within oneself alone.
Only then could a person truly advance.
‘I wonder when he’ll understand that.’
Dang Sanho’s expressionless face conveyed contempt through his eyes alone.
Hwangbo Taegang, reading this clearly, shot back in a low voice.
“This time, your clever tricks won’t work.”
“That’s the third time you’ve said that.”
Familiar provocation, followed by automatic mockery.
Hwangbo Taegang’s jaw clenched with humiliation.
Yet unlike Hwangbo Jinhyuk, he managed to hold it back.
‘Hmm. If we drag this out any longer, there’ll be trouble.’
Won So watched the two, then quickly gestured for them to take their positions.
Fortunately, neither clashed further and both complied readily.
“I shall learn from you.”
“I shall learn from you.”
“Then let the Martial Match commence!”
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-crack!
Dang Sanho unleashed a torrent of Hidden Needles the moment the match began.
Hidden Needles of varying thickness and length.
Of course, poison coated the surface of the needles.
“Does the Dang Clan always use the same technique? It’s grown tedious.”
Hwangbo Taegang raised his Force Energy as if he’d anticipated this, wrapping it around his fist.
Bang!
The Hidden Needles scattered in all directions, deflected by the Hwangbo Clan’s distinctive Tyrant Way Force Energy, which nullified both attack and defense.
But Dang Sanho did not stop, continuing to hurl the needles.
Bang!
Blocked.
Bang!
Blocked again.
Dang Sanho’s Hidden Needles never reached Hwangbo Taegang’s feet, scattering down like autumn leaves.
“He can’t even match his own younger brother like this!”
The crowd watching the Martial Match reacted much the same way.
“Hmm. The Shadow Silent Spear is losing ground this time.”
“Hasn’t the Hwangbo Clan been undefeated against the entire later generation until now? It’s about time they let someone win.”
“Is he only using Hidden Needles? That puts him at a disadvantage. I can’t fathom his strategy.”
To most eyes, it appeared that way.
Yet several masters narrowed their eyes.
“Something feels off.”
“Why does it all seem to be flowing?”
Their eyes were sharp.
Dang Sanho’s Hidden Needles traced trajectories that could never land.
From the start, he had no intention of striking true.
“Whatever tricks you play, it doesn’t matter! Today I will defeat you!”
Hwangbo Taegang swung his fists with ferocity.
Screech-screech! Screech-screech-screech!
Against the Force Energy that had transcended yellow to approach gold, the thin, fragile Hidden Needles were like leaves scattering in autumn wind.
Dang Sanho watched quietly, then tilted his head slightly to the side.
‘Consistent.’
The way Hwangbo Taegang deflected the needles was mechanical, as though stamped from a die.
Even when Dang Sanho deliberately shot needles along the same trajectory with only the sequence and number changing, it remained the same.
Right side—deflected with the back of his hand,
Straight ahead—struck in a direct line,
Lower left—evaded by twisting his body.
‘…Should I try it?’
Dang Sanho, who had been dodging attacks that occasionally probed at Vital Points, blinked his eyes repeatedly as if committing something to memory.
And then,
Whoosh!
He suddenly widened the distance.
Continuous Ten Blades!
Screech-screech-screech-screech-screech-screech!
Ten Hidden Blades were launched at ten different Vital Points.
“Hmph! Now he finally draws the Hidden Blades.”
Hwangbo Taegang unleashed his Fist Energy at full force.
Mount Taishan Eighteen Palms!
Boom-boom-boom-boom!
He had deployed it before in his Martial Match with Dang Eunho, but this time it carried far more Internal Energy, and its power and speed were in an entirely different dimension.
Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom!
The Hidden Blades shot skyward in all directions, repelled by the mountain-like Force Energy.
In that instant.
‘As I thought.’
The corners of Dang Sanho’s mouth lifted.
No one—not even Hwangbo Taegang himself—had noticed.
But Dang Sanho had.
Each time he unleashed his Fist Energy, a gap appeared below his left upper arm, however briefly.
The window was impossibly short—scarcely a blink—yet Dang Sanho had not missed it.
And he intended something.
He intended for Hwangbo Taegang’s composure to crumble—in the prolonged engagement he had not sought, in this Martial Match that proved less fierce than he had anticipated.
“So you’re just going to run away!”
“Does it look like I’m running? I’m giving everything I have in every exchange.”
“That’s preposterous!”
A fist wind as savage as a blade swept through Dang Sanho’s hair.
In the next instant, the force energy coiled around Hwangbo Taegang’s fist blurred.
But it hadn’t vanished.
It had been compressed and concentrated until it was no longer perceptible.
Tyrant Heaven Shattering Fist—Tyrant Opening Mountain!
Crash!
What Hwangbo Taegang unleashed was merely a single straight punch.
A single line extending directly forward.
But a line condensed with the force energy of the Tyrant Way was no mere line.
It was a blade and a spear.
“That’s—isn’t that a secret technique of Zhenyang Fist?”
Someone watching the match called out.
‘I’d never seen it before, so I wondered—but a secret technique?’
Screech!
Dang Sanho hurled a Hidden Blade to gauge the technique’s force.
Whoosh!
But the moment it touched the fist energy, its trajectory warped.
Only then did the true power of the technique reveal itself.
The Tyrant’s strength to cleave mountains.
Blocking it single-handedly seemed beyond his capacity.
And yet.
Dang Sanho smiled.
He smiled as though he’d been waiting for this very moment.
Clang-clang-clang!
Like a musician plucking a guqin, Dang Sanho’s fingertips swept across the Hidden Blades and Hidden Needles within his sleeve.
Whip!
Dozens of Poison Needles cleared a path,
Screech!
And along that path, a Hidden Blade shot forth like a flash of lightning.
“Again!”
Crash!
Hwangbo Taegang drove his fist forward with all his might.
Explosive force energy swept away the Hidden Needles.
But this time was different.
The Hidden Needles rebounded by the force energy flew in specific directions.
Some shot upward to obstruct his vision, while others fell below to hinder his path.
“Damn!”
In an instant, Hwangbo Taegang’s footing was locked, and his balance shattered.
Hwangbo Taegang’s face twisted hideously as he realized this had been Dang Sanho’s trap all along.
“You’re slow to catch on.”
In a blink of an eye.
Dang Sanho rolled into the gap and exploited it.
His target: Hwangbo Taegang’s left upper arm.
Dang Sanho opened his palm and thrust his strength through the slight opening.
Flying Floss Palm!
Crash!
Hwangbo Taegang’s body flew backward.
Thud-crash!
He barely avoided a fatal wound but tumbled pathetically, having lost his balance.
“Ugh!”
Dang Sanho seized a Hidden Blade and held it before Hwangbo Taegang’s face.
“Rather than charging blindly, you should learn to use your head. Or else train harder. Or, better yet, kill that habit of yours—the one where you rush in without thinking first. Not every thunderous sound is actual thunder.”
“Huh?”
“If none of that takes, perhaps you should abandon the very character for Tyrant altogether. What kind of fist technique makes up for poor judgment with brute strength?”
Hwangbo Taegang understood what Dang Sanho was saying.
He was throwing back, word for word, what had been said to his younger brother, Dang Eunho, during their match.
“Unable to control even your own emotions, and you dare claim the name of Tyrant?”
Hwangbo Taegang stiffened his neck defiantly, about to protest, when his face went suddenly pale.
A sharp stabbing pain erupted in his abdomen without warning.
Poison!
Hwangbo Taegang’s lips twisted.
“You——!”
“Did you really think that with so many Hidden Needles, not a single one would find its mark?”
Dang Sanho lowered his head, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“You’re going to suffer the pain of your intestines tearing apart. Even if you find a physician, even if you take medicine, it won’t ease for days.”
Hwangbo Taegang trembled with fury, his voice low and dangerous.
“All this—for just a half-brother——?”
“Just? So that’s how little you understand about brotherhood. Truly remarkable.”
Dang Sanho’s faint smile faded.
“You laid hands on my brother. My family—my brother, whom I cherish.”
Only Hwangbo Taegang, with his hair hanging down as he looked up, could see his face clearly.
It was the most terrible thing he had ever witnessed.
“I truly regret that I cannot kill you.”
And only then did Dang Sanho smile again.
Sichuan Dang Family—Redemption and Genius
Author |
Lee Il-yeong
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(Company) Samyang C&C
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Editorial Department
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The contents of this book may not be used in any form or by any means without the written permission of (Company) Samyang C&C – Dream Books.

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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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