Red Sun (3)

Diligence is Kung-Fu’s right hand, and enlightenment is its left.

-British Proverb-

The movement-arts master who barged in stuffed the Vermilion Phoenix’s egg I threw into his bag, then charged toward the estate exit at full speed.

His fluttering sleeves were fixed into shape with Brain Stopper.

Internal energy that had transformed into a wedge-like shape pointed forward.

An invisible sword that tore the air and nullified resistance.

-Kwarung!!

The postman’s charging run, transformed into a streak of blue lightning, shook the estate.

The source of the roar was the thunderclap heard when a Kung-Fuist of the Kunlun Cathedral launched a full-speed start dash.

It did not belong to Spain’s pride, Ocho Dragones Nubes, but among all movement arts of the Kunlun Cathedral, the technique that enabled the most effective battlefield disengagement had been unleashed. Thunderbird Escape.

“What is that sound!!”
“Damn it, my eardrums…!”

Stunned by the ear-deadening blast, the Afternoon Tea Party elders faltered and lost the timing to seize the postman.

Among the underworld men who had been close to the unnamed postman, those who hadn’t protected their heads with Defense Essence were bleeding from the ears or clutching their temples and groaning.

Just from the level of movement arts I witnessed the day after I came here, I knew he wasn’t an ordinary postman, but seeing him drafted into a plan with London’s fate at stake, he was clearly a hidden master Sir Fawcett had been watching closely.

It’s true what they say. In the martial world, you must not underestimate the old.
As for that postman, if nothing else, he had clearly tempered his movement arts for a lifetime.

If not, no matter how he caught them off guard, it would’ve been impossible to rupture a peak master’s eardrums with sound alone from Thunderbirds.

A fine example of what becomes possible if you obsessively dig into one field and train for a long time, even without extraordinary talent.

Kung-Fu’s ‘Kung’ which means achievement, can be accumulated continuously, separate from one’s trade.

There’s a reason the proverb says diligence is Kung-Fu’s right hand, and enlightenment its left.

“A man worthy of emulation.”

I offered a brief respect to the vanished postman, then turned my gaze to the Afternoon Tea Party’s martial artists.

One frowned as if sending a Direct Message somewhere, one steadied his stance to begin pursuit, one regripped his weapon and turned toward me.

Among them, not a single one was truly prepared to enter a life-and-death duel.

With a forward bray, they were easy prey.
With a backward bray, they were targets showing their weaknesses plainly.

“You let your guard down, trusting only your numbers. You strutted like a clan’s main force, yet look at you now.”

Given the Afternoon Tea Party’s information network, they would have already assessed my realm long ago.

In fact, until just now, hadn’t they been pouring their focus into me without showing the slightest complacency?

Afternoon Tea Party men were building gapless encirclement, closing the distance as if used to combined attacks.
It was a situation where, the moment someone struck, a fierce exchange would clearly erupt.
In a standoff where both sides couldn’t relax, walking as if on thin ice while everything was literally burning, the postman barged in.

As a result, the enemy panicked, while I kept my composure.

In such a structure, the one who gains is always the side that is even slightly more calm.

The moment the balance of power breaks, heaven smiles on the one who strikes first.

With every constraint gone, there was no reason to hesitate.

I immediately sprang into the underworld men wandering like a flock of sheep.

“Take this.”

I grabbed the heavy backrest of a copper chair that had fallen nearby, then charged the man trying to chase the postman.

-Kwajik!

I smashed the arm of the Afternoon Tea Party elder as he tried to draw, breaking it, then kicked off the floor and shoved him hard into a smooth marble pillar.

-Kwaang!

The elder’s body, driven by the chair seat, slammed into the solid marble pillar and created thin cracks.

Pinned into the chair as if fixed in a torture frame, he tried to counter with a foot technique, but I was faster in twisting the chair backrest.

-Kwajik!

The metal chair’s four legs rotated counterclockwise, striking the underworld man’s left temple, right forearm and hip joint, and his elbow.

“Baritsu, Chair Shot—”

Then Baritsu’s esoteric weapon art unfolded, pouring intense Essence into the chair to subdue the enemy’s body and mind.

“Essence Chair.”

-Pajijik!!

Blue Brain Stopper ran through the chair’s four legs and coursed through the Afternoon Tea Party man’s body.

In Baritsu’s chair-weapon art, Chair Shot, there were many tricks useful for conducting an interview to extract desired answers, and most of them assumed nonlethality, specializing instead in inflicting extreme pain.

Among them, Chairman Risk was a highly versatile trick that could be used for different purposes depending on the type of internal energy sent into the chair.

“Gkugh…!”

Neutralized in an instant, the Afternoon Tea Party elder let out white steam from his whole body and slumped, limp, arms draped over the chair legs like a Christian on a cross.

Before his body could even twitch a couple of times, I left the chair jammed into the pillar and picked up the weapon he had dropped.

-Seureung!

With the draw, I rushed the spearman nearby.

Based on the lineup I checked earlier, the most troublesome opponent was the bespectacled man who handled projectiles, and this man.

If Irene, who used sound skills, were here, it might have been difficult to face their combined tactics.

But the remaining elders could be handled if I broke them one by one.

The balance had already collapsed and one was already taken by my hand, so it was nearly impossible for them to rebuild an encirclement now.

It wasn’t that I lacked confidence in fist-and-kick arts, but if you want to toy with an opponent properly armed, you must use a weapon, even an unfamiliar one.

The spearman saw his comrade subdued and immediately corrected his stance and struck, but it was already too late.

Seeing the spear tip move like a snake, coiling around my blade, he seemed to be a Kung-Fuist of decent realm, but once his intent faltered, there was no reason my concentrated internal energy could not shatter the force clinging to his edge.

-Pachang!!

The moment the sharp sword tip met the spear edge, a short, solid sword aura burst out and dyed gray.

Sword aura whose density I heightened by cramming internal energy to the limit, seizing the split second of impact.

It couldn’t compare to Hardened Sword Aura or the cutting power of a Heavenly Demon Cane made from cold iron, but the Afternoon Tea Party was wealthy.

The elder’s weapon, made of expensive alloy, was not particularly familiar to my hand, yet it let my circulation pass through without hindering it.

-Slash!

The ashen sword aura split the solid spear shaft like bamboo, starting from the tip.
The spearman dropped his weapon and wrapped internal energy around his palm to dodge the sword surging in, but by then I had already rotated once and was smashing his throat with the sword hilt.

-Udeuk!

A strike with exquisitely controlled force, not enough to break his neck.

If a comrade reset his joints later, he wouldn’t die.

“That makes two.”

Two elders had belatedly dashed outside after the postman, but since they started late, they wouldn’t catch him.

Two were down, and two had left.

Five elders remained.

“You bastard!!”

A middle-aged man gripping a wolf-tooth club took out a bead the size of a fingernail from his pocket, bit it between his teeth, then charged at me through the smoke.

Because the moisture in the air had been dried out, I couldn’t unfold Indra’s Net at a higher stage, but I had already read the image reflected in his eyes and grasped the situation, so I calmly slashed behind me.

-Sak!

The black pouch the bespectacled man threw, hidden weapon in hand and waiting for his chance, was cut in half by my sword aura.

-Pung!

Powder with an alien scent spilled out of the split pouch.

By the time I registered it, a black fog darker than the smoke filling the estate had completely wrapped my upper body.

It clearly was a poison fog spread to obscure vision and intoxicate the enemy.

“Got you! Idiot!”

I heard the bespectacled man shout in triumph, thinking this was the moment.

In European Murim, even the Three Tanne Clans of Saxony, Liverpool, and Seychelles, who not only proclaim they will fight using poison alone but also adorn themselves flamboyantly like South America’s poison dart frogs to instill wariness, are said to be a neutral force.

Considering how only after research was recently published claiming toxin extracted from canned goods can keep noblewomen’s skin supple have more women begun recognizing the Tanne Clans as orthodox, a man who uses a vile trick like that could be called a model underworld type.

“Die!”

First, I knocked aside the long, heavy wolf-tooth club that flew through the fog with Soft Swordsmanship.

It wasn’t my most familiar field, but it wasn’t difficult to deflect a blow from an opponent who thought I had lost my senses inside the poison fog.

-Hwirik

If it were a sword, perhaps, but the weapon he swung was a blunt instrument.

He had not-bad brute strength, but the club only grazed my collar (stolen clothing, granted) like flowing water and buried into the floor.

I was covered in poison fog, but it had no effect.

I had just confirmed that what the man with the club bit into was an antidote pill.

From that, I realized early that they intended to use toxins that would affect even their own side, and because of that I stopped breathing, wrapped Defense Essence around my body, and prepared.

With White Worm’s help, I already had resistance to most poisons circulating in London, but this was not a situation that permitted even a sliver of carelessness, so I took the best action.

“Underworld filth needs disinfecting.”

-Kwajik!

I unfolded 1322.77 Pound Weight, stomped, and pinned the wolf-tooth club to the floor.

Then I used the opponent’s force as he struggled not to lose the weapon and tried to lift it, and I vaulted.
I flipped backward and hurled a scabbard and a sword at two elders swinging four axes.

“Gkugh!!”

The elder with the sword lodged in his shoulder dropped to his knees, and the one struck in the stomach by the scabbard toppled backward.

“Where do you think you’re going!”

-Hwiik!

Just before I landed, three daggers flew in, but this too was within my expectations.

Baritsu’s esoteric weapon arts are fourfold.

Among them, the new clothes suited for Coat Trick were lent to Head Professor Louise, but I had an outer coat taken from an elder.

“Baritsu, Coat Trick—”

If he had saved that projectile until now, it was likely made from precious material like cold iron, something Defense Essence couldn’t block.

As I threw off the coat, I seized the collar and sent internal energy through it.

“Mackintosh.”

Mackintosh was a defensive technique that sent coiling-thread force directly into the coat’s fibers.

The moment it touched the thin, sharp long needles, the coat fibers twisted and began rotating along the hidden weapon’s movement.

The stolen coat softly bound the long needles at once.

Bound in fibers, the hidden weapon didn’t just fail to wound me, it couldn’t even pierce the coat, and stopped.

I drove a punch straight into his face, and his glasses shattered into pieces.

-Koong!

Another elder went down, leaving only the proprietor of Newens.

“I owed you for renting the training hall last time. If you surrender, I’ll accept it. Your tea and sweets were excellent.”
“S-surrender….”

Subjugation of the Afternoon Tea Party elders, complete.