Namgung Clan’s Great Sage, Heaven’s Equal

7. If You Think You’re Going to Die, Pray.

"You're not from the Stone Flower Sect, are you?"

The voice was as harsh as metal scraping. Sun Wukong frowned.

"Ugh, what a raspy voice. Seriously, lay off the cigarettes. Just hearing you talk, I can already see you dying of lung disease. Want me to check for you in the afterlife? I’ll look up your cause of death in the Book of Life and Death—see if it’s really lung disease."

"……."

Blood-Iron Fiend’s eyes narrowed sharply. Sun Wukong just shrugged.

Why are humans always so angry? It was just a joke, but he’s looking at me like he wants to kill me.

"You say you have the item?"

"Yeah. The Sword Fragment."

"I heard there was a golden monster at the docks who took down the Stone Flower Sect Leader. That was you, wasn’t it? And now you’re here to bargain with me after stealing that sword?"

"They said you’d pay in gold."

"That’s true. If only you hadn’t acted so cocky."

Sun Wukong didn’t reply, just tossed back his drink.

He’d already polished off several bottles by himself, but there wasn’t a trace of drunkenness on his face.

"Ugh, this booze is disgusting."

They say the taste of alcohol depends on the company.

And this guy is just plain unpleasant.

But more than anything, Sun Wukong could see it—the world of the mind.

A pure white thread connected him and the man with the sideburns.

Between himself and Blood-Iron Fiend, a sticky, ominous dark red thread flickered, sinister as a blood vessel. Sun Wukong snickered.

‘So, it’s a bad connection.’

We must have had a nasty tie in a past life.

And now he’s after this item? What a funny twist of fate.

"But if you hand over the item quietly, I’ll forgive your arrogance and even give you the gold. So, where is it?"

"Man, you’re impatient. Can’t we at least have a drink first?"

"……."

"Come on, isn’t it tradition for men to share a drink and let the conversation flow?"

Judging by his expression, he was seriously considering killing me right now.

Sun Wukong clicked his tongue and pulled the Sword Fragment from his coat. The man’s face twitched ever so slightly.

"Someone put you up to this, didn’t they?"

"……!"

"If you really knew what this thing was, you wouldn’t react like that. For someone as notorious as you to be used as a lackey, your boss must be a big shot. Who sent you on this errand?"

Blood-Iron Fiend’s face turned to stone.

Sun Wukong cackled.

"Try to keep a straight face, will you? I was just fishing, but you gave yourself away instantly. Honestly, this is why you need to pick smart people if you’re going to use them as pawns."

"You bastard!"

"Sit down and shut up, idiot."

The mood shifted instantly as Sun Wukong’s tone turned cold. Blood-Iron Fiend must have sensed something too, because he drew his swords—not long blades, but two short swords about the length of a grown man’s forearm.

Sun Wukong clicked his tongue.

"Every time I try to talk things out, people just don’t know their place."

He stood up abruptly.

Blood-Iron Fiend’s face twisted oddly.

"Empty-handed?"

"Yeah. I don’t have the Ruyi Jingu Bang with me right now."

"Ruyi Jingu Bang? I’ve never seen a crazier bastard."

"Right? I was just thinking the same thing. Pointing a sword at the Great Sage Sun himself—never seen a crazier bastard."

Blood-Iron Fiend answered by thrusting his sharp short swords. Sun Wukong just grinned.

He kicked a shot glass into the air. Once, twice, three times—

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Blood-Iron Fiend deflected all three with his swords. The man with the sideburns was shocked—Chief Yang couldn’t even dodge and got his face smashed, but this guy blocked three flying shot glasses in a row.

But Blood-Iron Fiend’s face had gone from rigid to deathly pale.

‘He blocked every attack path?’

To others, it looked like Blood-Iron Fiend was just batting away glasses, but that wasn’t it. Sun Wukong had thrown them precisely at the spots Blood-Iron Fiend was about to strike, blocking him. It meant Sun Wukong was reading his every move.

Blood-Iron Fiend gritted his teeth and drew up his Internal Qi. Powerful energy made his muscles more elastic, his blood surged, his heart pounded, and his whole body burned, moving faster and stronger.

Sun Wukong just stood there, arms crossed, casually kicking at the ground.

Each time, plates, chopsticks, spoons, and bottles shattered as they were stabbed by the short swords.

Oh, this is fun.

Every time he tossed something, it shattered with a clang. It was oddly satisfying.

If Blood-Iron Fiend knew what Sun Wukong was thinking, his blood pressure would’ve shot through the roof.

He swung his swords with all his might, stabbing and slashing.

But he couldn’t take a single step forward.

Every move, every attack path—Sun Wukong saw through it all, standing perfectly still.

By now, cold sweat was running down Blood-Iron Fiend’s back.

At first, he thought Sun Wukong was just some punk trying to make a quick buck.

Even after realizing he wasn’t from the Stone Flower Sect, he didn’t care—as long as he got the item.

But this guy had the nerve to order him around, and his skills were anything but ordinary.

Most of all, he seemed to know what the item was—something even Blood-Iron Fiend didn’t know.

‘Only that person is supposed to know.’

There was something about him. He was strong. He hadn’t even drawn his sword, but he was at least on Blood-Iron Fiend’s level—a top Martial Master.

But he’d never heard of a top Martial Master who looked this strange.

‘Who are you, really?’

That was as far as his thoughts got. Sun Wukong, who’d just been kicking things around, suddenly closed the distance.

"Well, I’m done playing catch. How about we dance for real?"

A golden light flickered.

*

Sun Wukong had countless enemies.

People often thought that the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, Sun Wukong, was so powerful he had no rivals in the world.

But fighting isn’t about absolutes.

No matter how mighty a Great Demon, sometimes they’d get taken down by some random monk or priest. And even the weakest demon could wipe out an entire army of humans.

Even Sun Wukong had faced hardships on his journey to Tianzhu.

Most of those were thanks to the foolishness of Tripitaka and Zhu Bajie, but there were times he’d had some serious fights.

‘Still, this isn’t one of those times.’

There’s no way his past life’s skills would be fully intact in this life.

Sun Wukong deliberately watched Blood-Iron Fiend’s movements, just in case any memories resurfaced.

‘Honestly, I’ve had so many bad run-ins, I can’t even guess who this guy is.’

If he knew, maybe he’d feel a bit of nostalgia.

But in the end, the result would be the same.

Sun Wukong had faced countless foes and survived them all. That’s why he was still here.

To sum it up, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, Sun Wukong, is unbeatable.

*

The two short swords danced wildly.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

Sparks flew everywhere. Blood-Iron Fiend’s eyes spun. It wasn’t the sound of swords clashing with bare fists—Sun Wukong was swinging the Sword Fragment around like a chunk of iron.

No special form, no style, no path.

Just wild, reckless swings.

‘How is this possible?!’

Blood-Iron Fiend’s body trembled. Maybe his nerves were numb from the shock, because he couldn’t even feel the sweat pouring down his back anymore.

He was the one dancing with twin swords, switching between forms and techniques with dazzling speed—

But the pain was piling up in his own body.

To others, it looked like an even fight.

But it wasn’t.

Pain accumulated all over his body, squeezing his muscles, shaking his organs, rattling his core.

This was—

‘He’s toying with me!’

Was he planning to play with him until his Internal Qi ran dry? Like a cat batting around a mouse until it’s exhausted, Sun Wukong was doing just that.

Blood-Iron Fiend felt it in his bones.

He’d messed with the wrong guy. He realized, with chilling clarity, that he was standing on the edge of death.

So, he made his choice.

Vroooom!

His fading Internal Qi suddenly flared up. Once lit, the fire became a raging blaze, wrapping around every vein in his body.

A secret technique, taught to him by the one he served—someone terrifying beyond belief.

A desperate move that drew out all his potential in an instant.

‘I’ll kill him in one blow and get out with the item!’

No matter how strong he was, Blood-Iron Fiend could take him down now.

His Martial Art Skill, rooted in dark energy, became even more sinister and ominous as it exploded forth.

And at that moment—

Sun Wukong’s eyes blazed red like fire.

He saw the world of the mind through his Flaming Golden Eyes.

A wicked grin curled Sun Wukong’s lips, his fangs flashing.

Now he knew who he was.

"So, you’re that guy? The Serpent of Mount Chiljeol."

"……!"

"I was hoping for a more interesting bad connection, but you’re just a nobody."

I wasted my time figuring out who you were.

Sun Wukong tossed aside the Sword Fragment. He cracked his knuckles and neck.

"Alright, if you think you’re going to die, pray to Buddha."

"What?"

"See, I’m a Buddha myself now. I’m too merciful to kill someone who’s begging for their life."

*

If you think you’re going to die, pray to Buddha?

Buddha? He wants me to beg Buddha for my life?

That’s something those Shaolin monks would say.

As that thought crossed his mind, Blood-Iron Fiend’s mouth fell open. A strangled groan escaped.

Thud! Crack! Bam!

His body shook like a ragdoll.

Face, shoulder, chest, stomach, thigh—

A relentless barrage of blows. Muscles tore, organs spilled from his mouth, his mind went blank—

He really thought he was going to die.

So he opened his mouth.

"Bu—Buddha…"

Wham!

A fist smashed his mouth before he could finish.

Tears sprang to Blood-Iron Fiend’s eyes. It was so unfair. He said to pray to Buddha if I thought I was going to die!

"You’ve got no grit, you know that? No grit at all. You should at least try to hold out, huh?"

"……."

Sun Wukong was dead serious. In fact, he was a little annoyed.

"You little punk. You eat people, commit crimes, and then when you die, you don’t even reflect on it? You finally get reincarnated as a human and you go around killing people again? Murim’s public enemy? Pathetic. Human, my ass."

Even as he spoke, Sun Wukong’s fists never stopped. For Blood-Iron Fiend, it was hell. With strength like that, Sun Wukong could have killed him in a single blow, but he kept hitting him just hard enough to keep him alive.

His Internal Qi, which had been burning with pain, was long gone. His core was dry, and every breath sent agony through his body.

He really thought he was going to die.

So he mustered all his strength and spoke.

"Na—Namo Amitabha, Gu—Guanyin Bodhisattva…"

Calling on Guanyin Bodhisattva, the most famous among the common folk, was only natural.

But the problem was—

Crunch!

Sun Wukong’s hand clamped down hard on Blood-Iron Fiend’s throat.

Blood-Iron Fiend’s consciousness faded. In the haze, one question floated up.

‘Didn’t he say he’d let me live…?’

His resentful gaze met Sun Wukong’s.

Sun Wukong, annoyed, slammed the unconscious man’s face into the floor.

"Of all things, you had to call out to Guanyin Bodhisattva?"

You did that on purpose, didn’t you? Just to piss me off.

Sun Wukong punched Blood-Iron Fiend’s already unconscious face. Bones shattered and twisted. Even if he survived, he’d never show his face in public again.

Sun Wukong muttered through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, Namo Amitabha, Guanyin Bodhisattva. Go get enlightened, will you?"