8 Chapter 8
The night unfolded with an air of unpredictability as Joon and Dae-Ho found themselves amidst a confrontation with a gang of thugs. The pulsating tension in the air reached its zenith as the thugs surged towards the duo, intent on asserting their dominance. Joon and Dae-Ho, however, were not mere bystanders; they seamlessly assumed fighting stances, prepared for the imminent clash.
As the first thug swung his arm menacingly at Joon, the nimble warrior expertly dodged the attack. Sensing an opportune moment, Joon countered with a powerful punch to the thug's face. The blow was fierce, causing the thug to recoil and stagger. Capitalizing on the thug's vulnerability, Joon swiftly executed a sweep kick, finishing the assailant with a calculated finesse.
Meanwhile, three other thugs launched a coordinated assault on Joon, seeking to overwhelm him with sheer numbers. However, Joon's heightened agility became a formidable asset. His evasive maneuvers left the frustrated thugs swinging aimlessly, their attacks rendered futile. In the midst of the skirmish, Joon couldn't help but muse about the strategic significance of the additional agility points he had recently acquired.
Creating distance after dodging, Joon observed the remaining thugs, their frustration palpable. Anticipating another joint assault, Joon shifted to a more proactive stance. As a thug aimed a straight punch, Joon countered with a precise block and a devastating return blow. The other two thugs unleashed a barrage of attacks, but Joon effortlessly navigated through their futile attempts. It became increasingly apparent that the thugs lacked fundamental fighting knowledge, a weakness that Joon was quick to exploit.
In a calculated move, Joon caught a kick aimed at his torso, countering with a swift elbow strike. The thug, though still conscious, fell victim to Joon's strategic takedown. With one thug incapacitated, the others seized the opportunity for a sneak attack. Joon, however, intentionally left himself open, allowing him to counter the incoming assailant as he swung blindly. Targeting the liver, Joon delivered a punishing punch, followed by a well-timed uppercut that rendered the thug unconscious.
Simultaneously, Dae-Ho displayed his own prowess, overcoming hits and incapacitating the group leader. The confrontation took a treacherous turn when the leader resorted to a concealed knife, intending to strike when Dae-Ho was preoccupied. Witnessing this dangerous move, Joon intervened at the last moment, skillfully disarming the leader and turning the tables. With a swift and strategic move, Joon caused the leader to injure himself with his own knife.
Mockingly, Joon uttered, "Please don't tell your mother about this. I'll be nicer next time." The leader, in pain, attempted to assert authority by dropping the name of his affiliation with Choi Goseong, the leader of the notorious Goseong Faction. Unfazed, Joon responded casually, dismissing the significance of Choi Goseong's name.
"You! Do you know who you're messing with?" the leader barked, attempting to name-drop and instill fear.
"Hoo... Tell me, who is it?" Joon asked, his tone laced with curiosity.
"My boss is Choi Goseong, The leader of the Goseong Faction." The leader confidently declared, as if expecting Joon to cower in recognition.
"Choi Goseong? I thought you were gonna say that the President is your father. You put too much faith in his name, huh?" Joon replied, his nonchalant demeanor contrasting with the leader's attempt at intimidation.
Taken aback by Joon's lack of interest, the leader hesitated, realizing that the enigmatic duo before him was not easily swayed by mere affiliations.
"You, carry them out of here," Joon directed the leader, nonchalantly assigning him the responsibility of removing the fallen thugs.
"But, I'm injured," the leader refuted, attempting to protest against Joon's seemingly absurd request.
"Do you want an ambulance to carry you all out of here?" Joon threatened with his eyes, the silent coercion leaving the leader with no choice but to comply. Painstakingly, the leader woke some of the fallen thugs, dragging them away from the scene.
"Wait," Joon suddenly interjected, his voice cutting through the post-confrontation silence. The leader, now visibly sweating from the unexpected turn of events, turned back to face Joon. To his surprise, Joon was now wearing a sly smile. "Give me all your money." The abrupt demand left the leader dumbfounded. Joon swiftly justified, "It's for the damage you all caused." The leader, hesitating, was met with impatience as Joon crossed his arms. "Do you want me to get it myself?" Joon's tone carried a subtle threat.
As soon as the leader heard this, he scrambled to gather all the money the accomplices had, including his own. The leader handed the money to Joon, and the crowd, still confused by the sudden change of dynamics, watched in bewilderment as the leader hurriedly left the place, fearing Joon's potential demands.
Joon counted the money in his hand, flipping it like a banker. Satisfied by the hefty sum, Joon then redistributed some for the elderly man's treatment. Despite offering money to Dae-Ho, he politely refused, leaving the bewildered crowd to ponder Joon's enigmatic actions.
The two concluded their business and parted ways, with Dae-Ho bidding his farewells as they headed to their respective homes. Joon, left to his own thoughts, walked the streets in contemplative solitude. The echoes of the recent fight resonated in his mind, prompting a self-assessment that went beyond the physical combat.
As he strolled through the quiet night, Joon delved into a reflective examination of his performance during the encounter. Questions swirled in his mind like a constant, introspective stream. Did he handle the fight effectively? Were there areas where he could improve? The realization struck him that, in the heat of battle, he might have overlooked certain cues, and missed opportunities for getting some Pretense +, essential for gaining some Pretense Point.
Regret crept into Joon's thoughts as he acknowledged that he hadn't received any subtle notifications in his mind during the fight. He mentally noted the moments he missed, recognizing them as opportunities for growth. However, Joon, ever the optimist, brushed off the regret, considering it a lesson learned. The experience only fueled his determination to farm for the precious Pretense +, ensuring that he would be better prepared for similar challenges in the future.
Arriving at the familiar apartment building, Joon noticed the absence of Mr. Yu, the person who often worked diligently in the late hours. The building stood quiet, casting elongated shadows under the dim streetlights. Unfazed by the unusual absence, Joon proceeded directly to his apartment, a sanctuary where he could unwind and reflect.
Inside the comfort of his home, Joon decided to treat himself to a hearty dinner of instant noodles, relishing the satisfaction of a well-earned meal. The rhythmic ticking of the clock served as a backdrop as he savored each bite, letting the flavors linger on his palate. The television flickered with ambient light, casting a gentle glow on the room, and providing a sense of serenity after the tumultuous events of the night.
With dinner concluded, Joon engaged in a casual pastime, flipping through channels and finding solace in the diverse world presented on the screen. The soothing hum of the television filled the room, creating a calming ambiance. The passing minutes turned into hours as Joon lost himself in the narratives unfolding on the screen, a welcomed distraction from the adrenaline-fueled reality he had faced earlier.
As the night progressed, fatigue began to settle in, prompting Joon to retire to his bedroom. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the room as he settled into bed, letting the events of the day replay in his mind. Despite the challenges and uncertainties, a sense of accomplishment enveloped him. Eventually, the tranquility of sleep embraced Joon, carrying him into a realm where the echoes of the night's confrontations were replaced by the gentle whispers of dreams.
