Sichuan's Mad Dragon (Novel) - Chapter 24 - The Red Beggar
Chapter 24 – The Red Beggar
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Translated by Heavenly Cat
Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net
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Chapter 24 – The Red Beggar
Because of the beggar’s sudden acceleration, the atmosphere in the area had turned cold. Ju-seong was staring blankly at the beggar.
‘Usually that is the kind of thing I do.’
The beggar raised the long bamboo staff in his hand and continued.
“You want to steal my bundle! Then fight honorably with skill and take it!”
One of the bandits muttered in a daze.
“But you do not look like you have anything.”
The beggar raised a finger and pointed precisely at him. The bandit being pointed at scowled and asked.
“Me, what? What about me?”
The beggar wordlessly kept his finger raised while pulling out a gourd hanging at his waist.
Then he gulped down its contents. For some reason, he maintained his pointing posture.
Ju-seong quietly watched this scene and thought.
‘That must be quite strong liquor.’
The stronger the liquor, the stronger its fire energy, so it does not freeze easily, they said. If it was drinkable even in this weather, it was no ordinary liquor.
Soon the beggar finished drinking every last drop, wiped his mouth, and let out a deep, loud belch.
Normally, seeing someone belch openly would be rude and unpleasant. But this mad beggar’s belch did not give that feeling.
One’s chest felt cleansed and refreshed, as if watching Zhangfei from the Romance of the Three Kingdoms belching.
Even one of the bandits muttered in a daze.
“Ah, that guy belches well.”
The beggar wobbled as he swayed his upper body and spoke with slightly unfocused eyes.
“Eat this.”
From his finger, a white flame suddenly sparked, and finger wind shot out.
The bandit who had been on the receiving end of the pointing was struck directly in the forehead and spun three times in the air before collapsing unconscious.
The atmosphere grew quiet once again. Ju-seong swallowed an exclamation of shock as he watched the beggar.
‘A peak-level master?’
Not merely coating weapons with energy, but shooting it out at range.
Because one had to maintain its form even after it left the hand, it could also be seen as having reached the apex of energy release and control.
Of course, there were some clumsy aspects to the beggar’s finger wind. When he fired it, too many white sparks flew from his finger, and strangely, the sparks smelled of alcohol.
The finger wind also looked precarious, as if it would explode and dissipate on its own after flying about five zhang. Even as it flew, it was shedding white sparks.
“Haha, I am in the mood! Friend, let us have some fun together!”
The beggar said this to Ju-seong while drawing the bamboo staff he had been carrying on his back. Ju-seong had no choice but to respond.
“Let us do that. Your training is deeper than I thought.”
The beggar grinned and said.
“Until the booze wears off, I am like this.”
Ju-seong could not comprehend what kind of nonsense this was, but he stepped forward with his arms hanging loosely.
Ju-seong spoke as he advanced.
“If you had just taken simple tolls and parted on good terms, this would not have happened. Do you think you are the world’s greatest stronghold or something? You pathetic bastards. Where does that confidence come from, huh? And you. Why are you so rude?”
By the end, his voice had risen considerably. Having been cold and hungry, Ju-seong himself was quite on edge.
The stronghold chief drew two machetes and prepared for Ju-seong’s charge.
Ju-seong raised the deep yellow energy of the Yellow Crow stage on both hands and charged in. Just earlier, when he used the White Phoenix Nine Heavens Movement Technique, he had looked no better than a sparrow.
But since reaching first-rate, his movement technique had improved. Now it had gained some gracefulness, perhaps like a thrush or a pigeon.
The Diancang Stronghold’s chief, Deung-pyeong, widened his eyes at the unexpected speed of the young punk charging at him. The sight of him wrapping energy around both hands like weapons marked him clearly as a first-rate master.
‘What is wrong today?’
Deung-pyeong was not one to be easily outmatched in martial prowess anywhere, but today’s travelers were more than he could handle.
-Clangggg!!
Ju-seong’s palm technique struck the two machetes that Deung-pyeong had crossed.
Then Ju-seong began pouring out fist, palm, finger, and leg strikes as fiercely and venomously as a scorpion.
-Thunk! Thud-thud! Thwack!
“Urgh!”
Deung-pyeong grimaced and staggered.
He blocked Ju-seong’s fist techniques about four times, but was caught by a leg sweep at an odd angle.
He too was a first-rate master and held on by wrapping murky energy around his machetes, but the level of their martial arts was different.
Moreover, the intuition for fighting, the insight into where to strike and where to defend, was incomparable.
Deung-pyeong knew these types well.
He had seen them occasionally during his days on the battlefield.
It was at the crossroads of life and death, where blood and guts flowed amid voices crying out for their mothers in dazed tones.
It was a place where the sound of clashing spears and swords played like a funeral march in a hellscape.
There were men who awakened as battle ghosts. Men who seemed to have just realized they were born to fight.
Men who instinctively knew how to cut down the opponent before them and survive one more day.
Meanwhile, the beggar was engrossed in beating bandits with his mysterious staff technique.
When an axe came flying at him, the beggar dodged it with a swaying motion like he was drunk.
That bizarre movement seemed almost like he had dodged by luck, so the bandits could not properly gauge this man’s skill.
Just then, the beggar suddenly flipped his body upside down and aimed for the bandits’ shins with his hand blade.
He had already cast aside his staff.
-Tatatatatak!
Four or five bandits clutched their shins and collapsed. It was a technique he had never seen before… doing a handstand to attack low.
Moreover, both feet raised upside-down were busily blocking attacks from swords and clubs.
Soon the beggar stopped his handstand and flopped onto his back.
“Ah, this is tiring.”
At the sight of the man sprawled out like a starfish, the bandits exchanged glances and charged in, thinking this was their chance.
At that moment, the sprawling beggar explosively sprang up.
Then he began swinging the bamboo staff he had somehow picked up again, going completely berserk.
-Thwack! Thwack-thwack-thwack! Crack! Thud!
Striking sounds erupted so fast they were hard to count. Unrefined white energy scattered like sparks in all directions.
To the bandits watching, the sight was quite spectacular.
“Uh, urr…”
One bandit with an innocent face was staring at the sight dumbfounded when he took the bamboo staff square in the face and went flying backward.
Unaware of this situation, Deung-pyeong was still struggling to block Ju-seong’s attacks while thinking.
‘This bastard is possessed by a battle ghost. He seems to have learned proper martial arts too. I cannot win.’
The martial art Deung-pyeong had trained in was originally from the military. His internal energy cultivation method was also something taught in the military, not on the level of those from martial world sects.
Moreover, his main weapons were shield and spear, but the government strictly prohibited such war weapons, so he could not use them.
-Clang! Clang-clang!
Just then, Ju-seong’s palm technique struck the flat sides of the two machete blades, forcing Deung-pyeong’s upper body open.
Ju-seong’s eyes flashed ominously as he charged in.
Deung-pyeong hurriedly dropped his machetes and shouted.
“Su-surrender! Surrender! You lot, put down your weapons too!”
But there was no answer. When Deung-pyeong turned to look behind him, most of his men had been knocked out by the staff.
The beggar was emanating milky-white energy from his staff.
“Ah…”
Only then did Deung-pyeong realize he should never have started this fight in the first place.
* * *
“What is your name?”
“Deung-pyeong.”
At the stronghold chief’s answer, Ju-seong raised an eyebrow.
“Deung-pyeong? Why is your attitude so confident and stiff? Are you perhaps a hidden descendant of a king? If so, I shall permit you to address me as an equal.”
“…Deung-pyeong, Great Hero.”
Ju-seong patted Deung-pyeong’s head and said.
“You are not from Sichuan.”
It was unclear why he was bringing up Sichuan in the middle of Yunnan, but Deung-pyeong nodded and said.
“I am originally from Yunnan, and I spent ten years in the military.”
“So you are someone who has tasted battle on the field. No wonder you seemed too strong for a mere bandit.”
Ju-seong raised his head and glanced at the remaining bandits.
“Were all those fellows also in the military?”
Deung-pyeong nodded.
“They are all from the same hometown, and were dragged off to war against the Northern Barbarians.”
As Deung-pyeong was explaining, the beggar, thoroughly drunk, sidled over and said.
“Hic, what is with all the long talk, friend? Hic. Just break all their limbs, and since they might do bad things to women, crush all their balls too. Kill anyone who seems like they will not listen, and go on your way.”
“Hmm…”
Ju-seong looked at Deung-pyeong with an expression of deep deliberation.
Deung-pyeong felt his heart sink.
That drunkard beggar was not in his right mind. His martial prowess seemed considerable, but his eyes did not look sane from the start.
Ju-seong shared that impression. Earlier in the snowfield during the chase, the beggar had seemed somewhat sane, but after a few drinks, he was nothing short of a lunatic.
Ju-seong spoke to the beggar in a grave tone.
“This man does not reek strongly of blood. To be exact, he has not tasted blood recently. Those bandits over there are all the same.”
“Blood smell? How did you smell that? Are you a hunting dog, friend?”
The beggar tilted his head and asked.
Ju-seong let out a sigh and asked in return.
“By the way, what is your name? Let us at least know each other’s names. Your dress is shabby but your martial arts seem decent. I cannot figure out your identity.”
The beggar grinned and said.
“What would you do knowing my name? Where I am from, they called me the Red Beggar.”
Red Beggar meant a crimson beggar. Looking at his face with the snow melted off, it was flushed red from drinking.
“I can see that you are indeed a Red Beggar.”
At Ju-seong’s comment, the Red Beggar grinned and replied.
“My surname is Hong, so it is also a play on words. Anyway, what was that about blood smell?”
“I have trained a technique that enhances my sense of smell. This man has accumulated the stale smell of old blood since he served long on the battlefield, but he has not committed bloody deeds recently.”
The Celestial Nose was an excellent technique. Of course, it was not absolute. Someone who bathed once a day, even if they had committed many bloody deeds, would be hard to detect with the Celestial Nose.
But since these fellows seemed unlikely to have bathed even once a year, it was easy for Ju-seong to assess.
Hearing their conversation, Deung-pyeong immediately prostrated himself and cried out.
“Oh, great sirs! We may be bandits, but we never killed anyone outright! We just took tolls and let them go! But times have been so hard lately, so we were trying to score big for once…”
Ju-seong nodded along, then suddenly reached out and smacked Deung-pyeong across the cheek. Deung-pyeong, who had been defending himself throughout, stared up at him with bewildered eyes as he clutched his face.
Ju-seong grabbed Deung-pyeong’s cheek and shook it as he spoke.
“Why is your tongue so long? Everyone who has a hard life does not go around robbing others. Yet here you are doing exactly this. Is it because you are an exceptionally bad person? No.”
Ju-seong shook his head, then answered his own question.
“It is because you have power. You learned martial arts in the military, so you had just enough skill to set up a stronghold on the slopes of a great mountain and rob travelers going by.”
Red Beggar nodded along.
“Indeed, that is so.”
Ju-seong continued his lecture.
“Does everyone who has a hard life and has strength go and steal from others? That, too, is not the case.”
Ju-seong suddenly gestured toward the Red Beggar, who had been standing quietly behind him.
“Look here at Brother Hong.”
“Hm? Me?”
Deung-pyeong and Ju-seong looked at the Red Beggar together. He was, without question, a beggar of the highest order standing there before them.
“Look at Brother Hong’s state. It is a sight surpassing a common beggar, more like a beggar’s foot-wrap. Confucius himself said a man starved for three days will vault another’s fence… yet Brother Hong here, despite having formidable martial arts, has not wavered from his righteous bearing even as he has been reduced to that extraordinary state.”
The sudden attack caught Hong Gae entirely off guard, and even his drunken haze seemed to clear. He was right that he was a beggar, but he had not expected such a blunt and vivid dressing-down.
Moreover, since it was not entirely a criticism but rather a praise of his character, he could not even get angry.
Only then did Hong Gae realize that this man, who had seemed perfectly rational, was not such an ordinary fellow after all.
‘This bastard… how long have we even known each other…’
Hong Gae muttered inwardly, dumbfounded.
“Is that not so, Brother Hong?”
“Uh, uh-huh. Indeed.”
Too stunned to do otherwise, Hong Gae found himself nodding along like a fool.