Novel Martial Artist Lee Gwak - chapter 405
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Episode 405
If You Keep Walking Without Rest, You’ll Eventually Reach Your Destination (2)
The giant man’s eyes turned to Oh Jung-gyeong. His protruding, fierce gaze was enough to instill terror in anyone who met it.
Thud! Thud!
He pushed aside the innkeeper and approached Oh Jung-gyeong. Already a giant, he looked even more enormous up close.
“I’m Jang Musan. Are you the head of the escort agency that booked all the remaining rooms at this inn?”
“That’s right.”
“I’ll get to the point. Hand over just two of the rooms your agency reserved. I’ll pay double—no, triple the price.”
“Triple, you say? That is tempting, but I’m afraid not. We’re short on rooms ourselves. I can’t spare any.”
“I’m Jang Musan.”
“Pardon?”
Oh Jung-gyeong tilted his head at Jang Musan’s sudden self‑introduction. Jang’s face twisted viciously.
“I said, my name is Jang Musan.”
“I understand that’s your name, Sir Jang, but what of it?”
“You really don’t know my name?”
Jang Musan’s tone was menacing, yet the woman beside him remained silent.
She watched their confrontation with an indifferent expression, as if it were none of her business.
Jang Musan’s aura was unsettling.
His face was flushed red, like a volcano about to erupt. Oh Jung-gyeong, looking at him, appeared puzzled.
From the looks of it, Jang Musan was furious that his name wasn’t recognized. But truthfully, Oh Jung-gyeong had never heard it before in his life.
Eventually, Oh Jung-gyeong apologized.
“My apologies. My knowledge is limited, and I wasn’t aware of your name, Sir Jang. Please forgive the offense.”
“You really don’t know me?”
Oh Jung-gyeong’s apology only further enraged Jang Musan.
Though he had only appeared in the Jianghu two months ago, he had already earned the nickname Iron Monster Dragon.
Every year, countless young martial artists ventured into the Jianghu with dreams of glory. Few among them ever gained enough renown to earn a title—it was a feat reserved only for the most exceptional. Jang Mu-san had achieved the impossible, thanks to his extraordinary skills and his deeds.
Last winter, a band of thugs calling themselves the “Blood Riders” had terrorized the western regions of the Jianghu. They wreaked havoc on civilians while the major sects remained inactive during the cold season.
Those who owed him their lives gave him the nickname Iron Monster Dragon, and Jang Musan took great pride in it.
That’s why he was enraged that Oh Jung-gyeong had no clue who he was.
“You must run your agency from some backwater town, huh? Never even heard my name.”
Irritation crept onto Oh Jung-gyeong’s face.
He’d come to find lodging, been rejected, and now the man was picking a fight using his fame as a pretext.
Oh Jung-gyeong had no desire to engage further and replied curtly.
“Apologies. I’m just a no-name escort chief from the countryside. If that’s all, could you leave? As you can see, I haven’t finished my meal.”
Bang!
Suddenly, Jang Musan slammed his massive fist on the table.
The table shattered into pieces, and the food scattered everywhere.
“Chief!”
“What the hell?!”
The guards and escorts of Jeonggong Escort Agency sprang up in outrage.
Their chief had just been humiliated before their eyes—naturally, they were ready to retaliate.
Jang Musan glared at them menacingly.
“What? You want a fight?”
Clack!
Oh Jung-gyeong pushed his chair back and stood.
“Sir Jang!”
“What now?”
“I am a humble countryside escort chief, and I do understand we’re not equals. Not knowing your name was entirely my fault, and for that I ask you to please let this go.”
Oh Jung-gyeong clenched his teeth.
He was a man, and like any man, he felt rage when insulted and wanted revenge.
But more than that, he was the head of an escort agency.
Dozens of his people depended on him for their livelihood.
Everything in the Jianghu was connected. If you earned someone’s grudge, that grudge could spread—and you never knew if the next person it reached might be a trading partner.
Every word, every action had to be carefully measured.
Right now, Oh Jung-gyeong was exercising extreme restraint. And Jang Musan mocked him for it.
“At least you know your place, huh? Guess your agency would’ve gone under if you didn’t. But a no-name agency out in the sticks won’t last long anyway. Your people must be cursed to have a spineless chief like you…”
That’s when it happened.
“Don’t you dare insult my people.”
Oh Jung-gyeong’s roar echoed.
His eyes were tinged red.
He could endure insults to himself—but not to the escorts who followed and believed in him like family.
Their morale was directly tied to this moment. If he backed down now, their confidence would collapse.
This was a matter of survival for him and Jeonggong Escort Agency.
Oh Jung-gyeong’s gaze sharpened.
“If you cross the line any further, I won’t forgive you.”
“And if I do?”
Jang Musan sneered.
Oh Jung-gyeong could not stand it any longer.
“Apologize.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ll make you.”
“Hah. You really are some backwater fool. No wonder you don’t even know my name.”
“And you, Sir Jang, are like a wild horse that’s never learned humility. You’ve gained a bit of fame and now look down on everyone else. I don’t know who your master is, but I’m sure they’d be deeply disappointed in your behavior.”
Boom!
A loud explosion rang out.
Jang Musan had struck Oh Jung-gyeong.
If Oh Jung-gyeong hadn’t instinctively blocked with his sheathed sword, he would’ve been gravely injured.
He avoided serious harm, but the force sent him flying out the window.
“Chief!”
“Damn it!”
The escorts rushed outside. But Jang Musan moved even faster.
“Die!”
Whip!
His massive fist, infused with fist qi, hurled itself at Oh Jung-gyeong as he struggled to get up. The intent to kill was unmistakable.
The word “master” was a taboo to Jang Mu-san.
He had no issue mocking others, but couldn’t tolerate being mocked with references to his own master.
Like a rampaging boar, he charged thoughtlessly.
Oh Jung-gyeong bit his lip.
He saw Lee Gwak watching through the shattered window. His eyes were speaking.
I will intervene if you want me to.
Lee Gwak was one of the strongest martial artists in the world.
If he intervened, Jang Mu-san wouldn’t dare make a sound. There would be no consequences, no lingering grudges.
Letting Lee Gwak handle it would be the simplest solution.
No risk, no burden.
But despite knowing that, Oh Jung-gyeong shook his head slightly.
Though he was accustomed to endurance, he knew there were times when one must never yield.
This was one of those times.
SWISH!
Oh Jung-gyeong swung his sword.
BOOM!
Blade met fist in a thunderous collision.
Oh Jung-kyung was sent flying back, helpless against Jang Mu-san’s overwhelming force.
Jang Musan’s destructive power was overwhelming.
He was using Shadowless Eight Heaven Fist, his clan’s supreme technique.
It was that very technique that had defeated the Blood Riders.
“I’ll shatter your bones into dust.”
Crash! Crash!
With a loud roar, Jang Musan unleashed a storm of attacks.
Faced with his onslaught, Oh Jung-gyeong looked helpless.
His swordsmanship lacked destructive force and sharpness—but it was solid.
Like a turtle’s shell, his defense diverted or deflected Jang Musan’s strikes.
“You dare mock me?!”
Jang Musan’s fury intensified.
Oh Jung-gyeong’s body swayed, on the verge of collapse. But he didn’t retreat.
One step.
Then another.
Like a salmon swimming against the current, he pushed forward with great effort.
His face flushed red under the pressure, blood trickled from his lips—but he didn’t stop.
I will not fall.
He endured. Again and again.
Even when others said it was over—he couldn’t hear them.
He focused only on Jang Musan, waiting for a chance to turn the tables.
“Haa!”
The moment came.
After his relentless assault, Jang Mu-san paused for just a breath—a mere split second to steady his energy.
A tiny opening, but to Oh Jung-gyeong, it was as wide as a melon.
“HYAAAH!”
With a roar, Oh Jung-gyeong thrust his sword forward.
No fancy technique—just pure instinct, striking at the perfect angle.
“Guhk!”
Jang Mu-san gasped, caught off guard. He had been certain of his victory.
No opponent had ever pushed him this far. Most would collapse or surrender within a few moves.
But Oh Jung-gyeong was different.
He was a seasoned martial artist who had survived countless escort missions.
His skills might not be the greatest, but his resilience and experience were unmatched.
Jang Mu-san, unnerved by the counterattack, took a step back.
Oh Jung-gyeong pressed forward.
This was the golden opportunity earned through patience. He couldn’t let it slip away.
Oh Jung-gyeong poured all his strength into the offensive.
“Ugh!”
Jang Musan’s face contorted in shock.
He hadn’t expected Oh Jung-gyeong’s counter to be so fierce.
This was his golden opportunity, hard-earned through endurance. He wouldn’t waste it.
SWISH!
Oh Jung-gyeong swung his sword.
BOOM!
Blade met fist in a thunderous collision.
Oh Jung-kyung was sent flying back, helpless against Jang Mu-san’s overwhelming force.
Jang Musan’s destructive power was overwhelming.
He was using Shadowless Eight Heaven Fist, his clan’s supreme technique.
It was that very technique that had defeated the Blood Riders.
“I’ll shatter your bones into dust.”
Crash! Crash!
With a loud roar, Jang Musan unleashed a storm of attacks.
Faced with his onslaught, Oh Jung-gyeong looked helpless.
His swordsmanship lacked destructive force and sharpness—but it was solid.
Like a turtle’s shell, his defense diverted or deflected Jang Musan’s strikes.
“You dare mock me?!”
Jang Musan’s fury intensified.
Oh Jung-gyeong’s body swayed, on the verge of collapse. But he didn’t retreat.
One step.
Then another.
Like a salmon swimming against the current, he pushed forward with great effort.
His face flushed red under the pressure, blood trickled from his lips—but he didn’t stop.
I will not fall.
He endured. Again and again.
Even when others said it was over—he couldn’t hear them.
He focused only on Jang Musan, waiting for a chance to turn the tables.
“Haa!”
The moment came.
After his relentless assault, Jang Mu-san paused for just a breath—a mere split second to steady his energy.
A tiny opening, but to Oh Jung-gyeong, it was as wide as a melon.
“HYAAAH!”
With a roar, Oh Jung-gyeong thrust his sword forward.
No fancy technique—just pure instinct, striking at the perfect angle.
“Guhk!”
Jang Mu-san gasped, caught off guard. He had been certain of his victory.
No opponent had ever pushed him this far. Most would collapse or surrender within a few moves.
But Oh Jung-gyeong was different.
He was a seasoned martial artist who had survived countless escort missions.
His skills might not be the greatest, but his resilience and experience were unmatched.
Jang Mu-san’s face twisted in shock.
He hadn’t expected Oh Jung-gyeong to counter so fiercely.
His lack of experience showed.
In raw power, he far surpassed Oh Jung-gyeong.
The Shadowless Eight Heaven Fist was overwhelmingly superior to Oh Jung-gyeong’s swordsmanship.
But that was all.
Against opponents he could overpower with brute force, he was unstoppable.
But against someone like Oh Jung-gyeong—who exploited weaknesses with relentless precision—he was helpless.
It wasn’t about martial arts.
It was about the martial artist.
SWISH! SLASH!
Sword qi flashed repeatedly through the air.
“Gah!”
Jang Mu-san let out a stifled cry as Oh Jung-gyeong’s blade sliced deep into his shoulder.
“Argh!”
Jang Musan let out a frustrated grunt.
Oh Jung-gyeong’s sword had carved a long gash across his shoulder.
If Jang Musan had been more experienced, he might’ve countered even at the cost of injury.
But Jang Mu-san chose to retreat, prioritizing his own safety—while still trying to strike back.
That sealed his defeat.
THUD!
Oh Jung-kyung staggered from Jang Mu-san’s blow but didn’t stop.
His face was bruised, his lips split, his chest aching from the impact—yet he advanced, pressing his sword to Jang Mu-san’s throat.
The defeat was undeniable.
Jang Mu-san’s face paled.
“Waaaaah!”
“The chief won!”
The escorts of Jeonggong Escort Agency, who had been holding their breath, erupted in cheers.
At that moment, the woman who had silently observed until now finally spoke.
“This isn’t the time to be celebrating…”
The corners of her lips curled upward.
To her, Jang Mu-san was a fool—at least by her standards. And yet, she had chosen to accompany him for a reason.
The one who had left a deep scar on Jang Mu-san’s heart, the one who had instilled such fear in him that he shuddered at the word “master,” was here.
Just then, a voice as cold as ice rang out through the street.
“Useless fool!”
The moment people heard that voice, they felt the warmth drain from their bodies.
‘He’s here.’
The woman looked toward the middle-aged man who had revealed himself in the street.
He appeared to be in his late forties, a gaunt figure indistinguishable at a glance from any other man passing by. But his eyes shone with a terrifying intensity.
A faint smile formed on the woman’s lips.
He was Jang Mu-san’s master—and his father.
Jang Hwak, the Five Yin Demon Hand.
One of the Eight Great Martial Artists had arrived.