My Father Is the Number One Under Heaven - Chapter 30

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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 30. Fate Shifts
‘Ah. What a mess.’
Yeo Un-hwi was pushed backward by a single strike from Peng Mu-gang, his expression caught between frustration and bewilderment.
More precisely, he’d retreated swiftly before the full force of the impact could reach his body.
Yeo Un-hwi had redirected all the power packed into Peng Mu-gang’s fist with elegant efficiency.
In his past life, it was his father-in-law who had rescued Peng Seo-jin.
That fact had never come to light—he hadn’t known it at all.
He’d only heard that Peng Seo-jin had somehow made it back alive, so he’d assumed the young man had managed it through his own strength.
But now, only now, did Yeo Un-hwi discover that his father-in-law had found him and brought him home.
So did that mean Yeo Un-hwi shouldn’t have involved himself in this matter at all?
No. That wasn’t it.
If he had delayed even slightly in treating the poison spreading through Peng Seo-jin’s body and the wounds from that savage blade work, the boy would have been forced to live out his fate as he was originally meant to—as a cripple with a single arm.
And having lost one arm, he would have inevitably struggled to train in martial arts, achieving nothing like the heights his natural talent might have otherwise carried him to.
So by any measure, Yeo Un-hwi’s intervention today had been the right choice.
Still, he couldn’t shake his surprise at the terrible strength in Peng Mu-gang’s fists, at the power behind each blow.
This was the first time he’d tasted the true force of his father-in-law’s might.
Indeed, this was how an Absolute Master—the Crouching Tiger of Hebei, as he was called—truly fought.
He was satisfied to discover that his father-in-law was so formidable, but his most pressing problem now was the fact that Peng Mu-gang had gotten the wrong idea entirely.
Well, perhaps Peng Mu-gang’s misunderstanding was inevitable.
The mask he wore was, after all, the mask of the Blood Poison Clan.
But he couldn’t exactly tear it off right now and say, ‘It’s me, Father. I’m your son-in-law.’
They didn’t share that sort of intimate familiarity to begin with, and revealing himself might only deepen his father-in-law’s suspicions.
Hm. What to do about this? Just slip away and run?
The unexpected turn of events had left Yeo Un-hwi’s mind spinning.
Boom!
As Peng Mu-gang stomped the ground with unmistakable fury, the earth beneath them trembled as if a brief earthquake had shaken it.
“You wretch! Standing before me with such composure? Fine, then—today I’ll show you hell itself!”
Boom-boom-boom.
Peng Mu-gang’s true mastery lay in his Sword Technique.
It was common knowledge throughout the world that his swordwork was Finest Under Heaven.
Yet looking at him now, his Fist Technique seemed every bit as formidable—no weakness there whatsoever.
Crack!
The ground where he planted his foot caved inward.
His fist came flying at Yeo Un-hwi in the next instant.
He could sense without question that each strike carried devastating force.
Wherever Yeo Un-hwi dodged, boulders, trees, and even a massive cliff face exploded into fragments in his wake.
There was no exaggerating this raw power.
Is this what they mean by Innate Strength? he found himself thinking.
“Impressive, you scoundrel!”
Surprise flickered across Peng Mu-gang’s face before giving way to a fierce competitive spirit.
He’d already sensed Peng Seo-jin’s condition with his Qi perception and confirmed, fortunately, that the boy suffered no serious injury.
Now he would cut down every last one of these villains.
In the next moment, Peng Mu-gang drew his sword.
And like lightning, he charged at Yeo Un-hwi.
A single swing of his blade laid waste to dozens of trees behind him.
The oppressive force emanating from him was on an entirely different scale now—a pressure incomparable to his fist techniques alone.
Yeo Un-hwi, momentarily stunned, found Peng Mu-gang charging at him again.
The sword flashed once more.
It danced as though everything it touched would be severed.
Crash. Crash-crash.
Peng Mu-gang’s hands showed no mercy.
The dense forest was being laid bare around them.
‘Ah, this is troublesome.’
Dodging Peng Mu-gang’s assault, Yeo Un-hwi found himself in genuine distress.
As a martial artist, facing an opponent of Peng Mu-gang’s caliber could be a great honor, a source of joy, a precious experience.
But Yeo Un-hwi wanted no part of this particular experience.
Who in their right mind would choose to cross blades with their own father-in-law?
And besides, that terrifying visage of Peng Mu-gang—like some massive tiger charging forward with a fearsome roar—was hardly something to be savored.
He was certain that most would lose all composure merely witnessing such a sight, let alone facing it.
During one gap in the relentless barrage of attacks, Peng Mu-gang suddenly accelerated, driving his assault straight at Yeo Un-hwi with renewed ferocity.
Peng Mu-gang’s sword drove toward Yeo Un-hwi’s throat.
But,
Clang!
Peng Mu-gang’s attack rebounded off Yeo Un-hwi’s Protective Qi Technique.
Ho.
Peng Mu-gang’s face registered genuine surprise.
He had rarely encountered such a refined Protective Qi Technique in all his years.
“Respectable skill.”
Yet the fiercer his interest grew, the more savage his expression became.
“I don’t know what possessed a man of your strength to resort to such cowardly tactics, but all the better.”
Whoosh.
Peng Mu-gang’s aura shifted once more. Now he meant to show his true face.
A cool, eerie stillness descended—the hush that precedes a typhoon.
He seemed about to invoke a Secret Technique.
‘This is getting tedious.’
The situation was spiraling from bad to worse.
Then,
“No! Father!”
Peng Seo-jin’s cry cut through the air.
His consciousness had been flickering in and out, but it snapped back. The moment he saw what was happening, he screamed in panic.
“Seo-jin?”
“Father. This man—he’s not our enemy. He saved me.”
“What? But that doesn’t—”
Only then did Peng Mu-gang look around.
And he saw—scattered about—the bodies of Blood Poison Clan members, many of them.
By all appearances, they’d fallen to this man’s blade.
In that instant, Peng Mu-gang understood his mistake.
“Ah. Damn.”
His habit of rushing headlong the moment his blood was up, seeing only what he wanted to see—it was a chronic vice that had plagued him since youth.
Perhaps he should have moved with more caution.
But even so, the fact that Yeo Un-hwi wore the same mask as the Blood Poison Clan members made the misunderstanding almost inevitable.
Then,
“Ugh.”
Despite Yeo Un-hwi’s best efforts to channel his energy into emergency treatment, Peng Seo-jin had lost too much blood. His eyes rolled back and he collapsed forward into unconsciousness.
“Seo-jin!”
Now knowing the man was no enemy, Peng Mu-gang rushed to his son without hesitation.
He checked Peng Seo-jin’s condition quickly.
Fortunately, it was only exhaustion—his son had simply lost consciousness.
As Peng Mu-gang let out a breath of relief,
Tap.
Yeo Un-hwi vanished, employing Light Footwork.
“Wait, hold on!”
Though his manner had been suspicious, the man was still the benefactor who had saved his son’s life.
Peng Mu-gang wanted to repay him somehow.
But the figure had already disappeared without a trace.
The Light Footwork was extraordinary.
Even Peng Mu-gang, who prided himself on his own mastery of the art, was left dumbfounded.
Who on earth was this man?
But that wasn’t the pressing matter now.
Peng Mu-gang lifted his unconscious son into his arms.
“Let’s go home, Seo-jin.”
It was time to return.
***
Mm.
The Master of Golden House stirred, waking from sleep.
Some discomfort had jolted him awake.
And then,
“…Huh? Gah! Ahhhhh!”
The moment the man’s eyes opened, he could only gasp in horror.
His body was hanging upside down.
Hanging by a thread from a branch of a tree that grew at the edge of a cliff that stretched on endlessly.
But he was not alone.
The others bore the same fate—though all of them were already dead.
Men who, like him, had been called Masters of Golden House.
The man hung inverted from the cliff alongside their corpses.
“What is this! What is this! Ahhhhh!”
The situation felt so unreal that at first he thought he must be dreaming.
But he was not.
Hanging upside down, blood rushed to his head, throbbing with maddening pain, and the rope binding him tightened inexorably, exquisite in its agony.
Worse still was the fact that he was tied alongside corpses already long dead.
It was truly horrifying beyond measure.
“Ahhhhhhh! Help! Someone help me!”
He screamed like a madman.
But this was the peak of a desolate mountain, untouched by human presence. No one would come to his aid.
Then he became aware that someone was watching him—calmly observing his thrashing desperation.
“W-who are you? Please, I beg you, cut me down! Please. I’ll give you anything you want. Anything!”
“Ho. Anything you say?”
“I swear it! If you’ll only save me—”
“You’re quite wealthy, aren’t you?”
“Money? You want money? I’ll give you whatever you ask, anything!”
“Good. Then I’ll take it all. Now tell me—where have you hidden it?”
“That is—”
He hadn’t expected the man to actually take everything, so the merchant hesitated in confusion.
“You refuse? Haven’t you grasped the situation yet?”
“N-no, I understand! My assets are—”
He soon spilled everything he could remember—hidden funds, everything.
There was no time for deception now, and besides, if he could survive long enough, he could kill this man. So he simply laid bare all his secrets.
“Good. I’ll put it to excellent use.”
Despite acquiring a fortune beyond measure, the man showed not a trace of joy.
His eyes remained as cold as ice.
“Now, please, cut me down quickly. That branch won’t hold much longer—I can feel it.”
Indeed, the branch groaned and crackled ominously.
It looked as though it would snap any moment.
The Master of Golden House was verging on losing consciousness from sheer terror.
But the man simply watched him, unmoved.
“All the way here, I thought about how to make your death slow and agonizing. How to make you feel twice the suffering my brother endured.”
“B-brother? You don’t mean—”
Though there were many who held grudges against him, one name came to mind immediately.
Peng Seo-jin.
“It’s too late. He must be dead by now.”
“No. He lives. He’s escaped even the fate of losing his arm.”
“Losing his arm? What do you mean—”
“And your fate has changed too. No more a life of corruption and luxury. Now it will be like this.”
The man’s gaze grew colder still.
“What death would torment a creature like you most? To squander your fortune, to have it stripped away, to hang here naked and unknown, trembling in terror until you die in agony—isn’t that the ultimate punishment?”
“You promised you’d save me! You swore! This is treachery!”
“No matter. For someone like you, it doesn’t matter.”
“Y-you… you devil!”
“I take that as a compliment. Especially coming from you.”
Yeo Un-hwi turned to leave.
“No one comes to this place. Of course no one will come to save you.”
“N-no—”
“So thrash in agony, tremble in terror, and die here pathetically, alongside those corpses.”
From this moment on, for at least half a day, the merchant would suffer the crushing terror of not knowing when the branch would snap, plunging him into the thousand-li abyss below to his death.
The blood pooling in his head, the rope burrowing deeper into his flesh—all mere accompaniment to the primary torment.
His unaccustomed body would have no strength to endure it, and he would slowly descend into madness until the very moment of death.
“No, no, nooooo! Ahhhhhhhhhhh!”
Yeo Un-hwi departed without a backward glance.
Behind him, the Master of Golden House—now acutely aware of his doom—let out a horrific scream that echoed across the mountain.
For him, death in its cruelest form was drawing inexorably near.
Death’s touch lay across his face.

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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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