Chapter 138: I Am Wiji Cheon

Chapter 138: I Am Wiji Cheon

TL: FoodieMonster007

When they heard that the Scarlet Tiger Boss had been seriously injured, and that there might be a chance for them to seize control of the Scarlet Tiger Gang, the freelancers couldn’t hide their excitement.

“The Scarlet Tiger Boss is hurt, eh? Fufu. Finally, a chance to take him down,” a man with a chain-sickle coiled around his waist and a sickly yellow orb in place of one eye said, licking his lips.

Mighty Blade chuckled, “Still nursing a grudge, eh, Death Sickle? Does that missing eye he took from you still bother you?”

“Don’t even ask,” Death Sickle grumbled. “It hurts like hell every single night.”

The incident had occurred not long after the Scarlet Tiger Boss had claimed leadership. Death Sickle, drunk and reckless in a bar one night, had made the mistake of picking a fight with the man. In his drunken stupor, he’d raised a glass in a mock toast to congratulate the new boss.

And the Scarlet Tiger Boss’s response? He’d gouged out Death Sickle’s eye without a second thought.

“Keuaaah! My eye! My eyyyyyee!” Death Sickle screamed.

The Scarlet Tiger Boss, unfazed, casually dropped the gouged eyeball into the very drink Death Sickle had offered him and swallowed it with a smile, chewing thoughtfully. “Not bad with a little booze.”

“Keuaaah! You crazy bastard!”

Fortunately, some nearby constables had intervened before the fight could escalate. Still, from that moment on, Death Sickle vowed to kill the Scarlet Tiger Boss. The man had become his mortal enemy.

“I’ll kill him with my bare hands,” Death Sickle swore, eyes burning with fury. “First, I’ll rip out both his eyes, chop off his legs, and watch him crawl like a worm. Then, I’ll skin him alive and salt the wounds until he begs me to kill him.”

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Mighty Blade clapped him on the shoulder, smirking. “He’s all yours, Death Sickle. I won’t get in the way of your sweet revenge.”

He turned to the other ex-freelancers, whose faces mirrored Death Sickle’s eagerness for bloodshed.

“Fufu, looks like you’ve all been itching for a fight,” he laughed.

Freelancers, by their very nature, weren’t the kind to stay put for long. Normally, they’d blow off steam on the road, but the meddling kids from Azure Dragon Academy had kept them holed up in the estate for weeks, and tensions were running high.

As such, sensing a fight on the horizon, they were practically frothing at the mouth like dogs catching the scent of prey.

“Drinking and gambling can only keep you busy for so long,” one ex-freelancer muttered, tapping the hilt of his sword.

“Fufu, I think my blade’s starting to rust. It’s about time I polished it with some blood.”

“So, when are we doing this?”

“You’re bringing your disciples along, right? You’ll need the help in your old age,” another teased, earning a few chuckles from the group.

Mighty Spear, the second of the Mighty Bear Trio and the most cautious among them, raised an eyebrow. “Hyung-nim, what about the Azure Dragon Academy brats? They’ve been patrolling night and day. They aren’t blind, there’s no way they’re not watching us.”

Mighty Blade paused, surveying the estate. Counting the ex-freelancers and their lackeys, the Great Bear Gang numbered around fifty in total.

I’ll need at least half of them to raid the Scarlet Tigers.

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Ideally, he would’ve preferred a quick and silent night raid with just the ex-freelancers, but with the risk of traps and the need to cover their escape if things went south, they needed more bodies.

“Boss! Take us with you!”

“We’ll be the first to cut down those Scarlet Tiger bastards!”

“We’ll bring glory to the Great Bears with the martial arts you taught us!”

A pack of eager disciples rushed over, their faces glowing with excitement.

Seeing them, Mighty Blade almost laughed aloud. These so-called ‘disciples’ were little more than pawns, lured in with promises of martial arts training. None of the freelancers viewed them as anything but expendable.

“Of course,” he said, suppressing his amusement. “Be ready. We move at dawn, quietly.”

“Yes, Boss!”

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The disciples scattered with newfound purpose, and the ex-freelancers snickered as they watched them go.

“Fools. Half of them will be dead by morning.”

“We can always find new recruits.”

Mighty Blade frowned, picturing Cheoldu, the Ironhead leader. Cheoldu... now there’s someone with potential. If I ever took a real disciple, it’d be someone like him—tough, fearless, and born with a killer’s instinct.

He had tried recruiting Cheoldu multiple times, but the man always refused.

He said he’d rather die than serve under anyone. How dare he?

Mighty Blade considered the question a moment longer, before answering, “We’ll take care of the Ironhead Sect on our way back. Might as well wipe them out while we’re at it.”

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“A-Are we going to kill them all?”

Mighty Blade grinned. “Of course. If they won’t follow me, then they’re a threat. Better to eliminate them.”

The only reason the Ironhead Sect was left alone was because they kept the Scarlet Tiger Gang in check, making things easier for the Great Bear Gang. Once the Scarlet Tigers were gone, though, they would no longer have any use for the Ironhead Sect.

Soon, this whole district will be mine, he thought, the idea of becoming king of the slums filling him with satisfaction. Such a thing might not have meant much to the bigger murim sects, but to him, it was everything.

Glancing around impatiently, he muttered, “Where’s everyone? It’s been a while...”

One of his disciples shuffled nervously. “Do you think they’re still asleep?”

“Have some patience,” Mighty Blade snapped. “You think it’s easy moving through deserted alleys unnoticed?”

“Y-Yes, Boss. Sorry...”

Still, even after waiting a bit longer, none of the freelancers arrived.

Something’s not right...

A chill ran down Mighty Blade’s spine, and his instincts screamed at him. He turned to his disciples, voice low and urgent, “We’re heading back. Now.”

Unfortunately, as they made their retreat, they were intercepted.

“Going somewhere?”

“Who’s there?!”

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A mocking voice from the shadows made them freeze. They immediately drew their weapons, but figures soon stepped out of the darkness and surrounded them.

It was Cheoldu and the Ironhead Sect.

Mighty Blade’s eyes narrowed in surprise. “You bastard! How did you know we’d be here?”

Twirling a hatchet in each hand, Cheoldu sneered, “Been a while, hasn’t it, fat pig of the Great Bear Gang? Wait, haven’t you gotten even rounder? You pregnant or something?”

Mighty Blade’s face twisted with rage, waves of killing intent radiating off him. “Heh... You’ll regret saying that. Tonight, I’m going to split that thick skull of yours in two.”

The tension thickened, and a big fight was just about to begin when...

“Wait!” A young voice called out from behind Cheoldu’s men.

Mighty Blade turned, his eyes narrowing in confusion as a boy no older than fifteen squeezed his way through from the back of the crowd.

“What the hell?” Mighty Blade muttered, taking in the kid’s delicate, almost frail appearance. A short stature, big eyes, nervous expression, and a sword at his side that looked more decorative than functional.

The boy bowed politely. “Uh, h-hello. I am Wiji Cheon, a freshman at the Azure Dragon Academy.”

“What?” Mighty Blade stared at the boy, dumbfounded.

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Still bowing, Wiji Cheon began, “As part of our Defense Against the Unorthodox Arts class...”

He paused, drawing his sword with a surprising fluidity.

”!!” Mighty Blade instinctively took a step back, his body tensing. The moment the boy unsheathed his sword, gone was the timid child, replaced by something dangerous, something terrifying.

This kid isn’t normal, he realized, a feeling of foreboding rising in his chest.

“...I challenge you to a duel,” Wiji Cheon finished, his eyes locked on Mighty Blade with a calm, deadly focus.

Translator’s Note: These are some cringey nicknames...