The Tough Guy Hides the Villainess - Chapter 147



147 – There’s a Secret Base on the Dark Side of the Moon! # 1

147 – There’s a Secret Base on the Dark Side of the Moon! # 1

The “Genesis Holy War” was a group made up of various illegal Awakened.

They had “Savior – Gu Sejun” as their leader, but not everyone agreed with his actions or policies.

They had gathered only to grow in strength and not be swept away by the turbulent changes in the world.

‘First of all, what kind of name is “Genesis Holy War”? It sounds like a cult or something. They should have gone with something like Destroyers. The Breakers. Something like that.’

Kang Ilgwon was a dangerous figure, ranking third in the Genesis Holy War.

Thirty-three this year, he was a martial artist who’d trained from childhood, taking waterfall showers and punching rocks, but after awakening, he became known by the ominous name, “Destroyer.”

‘I’m curious how far I can break things with the concept of “destruction” within me. Break rocks, shatter iron, and maybe even destroy the state and its systems?’

He attacked politicians and beat down their bodyguards repeatedly, all to test his strength.

Of course, he became a public enemy to the Awakened of the Superhuman Management Agency.

After endless days of fighting, he had his right arm, which he mainly used to attack, destroyed by Nam Wooju, and went into hiding. That’s when he met Gu Sejun, who healed his arm, which led to where he is now.

Being human, he felt indebted to Gu Sejun for healing him, and so, he followed him, but honestly, he found his actions frustrating.

“To create a world for the Awakened.”

That’s how Gu Sejun was acting.

But that method was just too slow and mild.

‘Wouldn’t it be better to incite terror everywhere, engage in destructive acts, to flaunt the power and fear the Awakened possess? That way, everyone would look up to us.’

But Gu Se-jun had been laying low ever since the L Mart terror attack.

He even took in and hid Ha Nam-jin, who was practically their biggest obstacle.

Kang Il-kwon headed to the underground church in Gangwon-do where Ha Nam-jin was hiding.

And there, he found a boy shattering solid rocks with his feet.

“Nam-jin Kick!”

Crack-!

The kick, seemingly based on Taekwondo, looked quite decent.

Its power was considerable; the solid granite rock pulverized like powder.

“Nam-jin Punch!”

Thwack-.

The punch, however, looked somewhat clumsy – the proof was that the rock didn’t break, only cracked.

“Guess my punch is still weak.”

The boy seemed to realize his punch was terrible as he examined his fist.

But that was only for a moment-.

“Nam-jin Rapid-Fire Punch!”

Thud thud thud thud thud-.

If power is weak, then you just hit it more times.

The boy’s barrage finally turned the heavy rock into dust.

Kang Il-kwon, watching, felt a flicker of interest.

‘Ha Nam-jin, I thought he was just a cocky kid relying on his abilities, but he’s not bad.’

Broken rocks littered the ground around the boy.

Even after that, the boy continued to strike the rocks for hours without rest.

‘I thought kids these days had no grit and only tried to take the easy path.’

Ha Nam-jin’s grueling training reminded Kang Il-kwon of his own youth, when he dropped out of high school early to walk the path of martial arts.

People had ridiculed him back then, calling him foolish and reckless for striking logs, taking waterfall showers, and breaking rocks.

Seeing his own past self in Ha Nam-jin, Kang Il-kwon approached him and gave him some advice.

“Your movements are too linear and stiff. You need more flexibility. A punch isn’t just about power and speed. A punch with only strength doesn’t hold true power.”

Slightly-.

Kang Il-kwon’s fist was clenched softly, like a baby’s hand.

He rested the loosely held fist, as if holding a small egg, lightly – *thwack* – on the rock, and it shattered, shockingly, into shapeless pieces.

“Flexibility is the essence of technique. Remember that.”

Flexibility.

The word seeped into Kang Il-kwon’s own heart.

Lately, his way of thinking had become too rigid, blinding him to the long road ahead.

He’d thrown his hat into the ring simply to see how far his fists could reach.

Also, to restore his dojo, which had become a laughingstock after his father, a fellow martial artist, died during sparring.

Truth be told, Kang Il-kwon wasn’t interested in changing the country, or creating a world for the awakened.

And so, he became flexible in his thinking, and finally reached a decision.

“I will leave the Genesis Order. What I seek has always been the peak. Ha Nam-jin, thanks to you, I’ve regained a dream I’d long forgotten.”

Kang Il-kwon decided to embark on a journey to become the strongest man.

The opportunity was surprisingly close; tomorrow, an expedition was setting out to subjugate the “Red King.”

He wondered if his fists could reach the “Red King,” the symbol of fear.

# # #

“What’s with that old guy?”

Bbangdaengi asked me.

An old guy in worn-out martial arts garb came over to give me some kind of advice, and he looked odd for sure.

“I dunno.”

“Is he a wild man or something, living around here?”

Bbangdaengi glanced around.

I stared at the rock he’d just destroyed.

To pulverize a rock with a lightly held fist.

He didn’t seem like your average wild man.

But, there was something oddly compelling in what he’d said.

Flexibility.

My technique was all about linear movement and speed, point-to-point, leaving no room for flexibility or gentleness.

So how could I bring that sense of gentleness to my fists?

‘The answer lies in relaxation.’

Think about a sprinter in a crouching position at the starting line of the Olympics.

His body probably had more in common with a soft feather than rigid ice.

Even the gunslingers of the West, whose lives hinged on the blink of an eye, must maintain a liquid-like ease before pulling the trigger.

That softness, that’s the path to the pinnacle.

So I let all the tension go out of my body.

My body slumped to the floor like a squid.

“Hanamjin! What the hell are you doing!”

Pangdaengi was shocked to see me, a boneless, limp creature.

At that exact moment, I launched my body with explosive speed and slammed my fist into the rock.

Thud.

A very light sound, thanks to my loose fist.

But my body was pouring sweat like a downpour, and I was so dizzy that it felt like I’d squeezed out every last drop of energy.

A punch that I gave my absolute all.

You could say that, I guess.

In a real fight, I don’t think I could use it more than once.

But Pangdaengi just looked even more confused.

“What just happened? Nothing really happened, did it?”

“That’s how it looks. But look at the back of the rock.”

“Got it! The front of the rock looks fine, but the back has a huge hole in it! Like a through-punch or *fa jin*? So there should be a hole in the back…but there’s nothing? This rock is fine!”

Pangdaengi seemed puzzled that the rock was intact.

Just then, Gu Sejun showed up.

“Hanamjin, I’m getting ready to head to Seoul. I’ve got the car waiting at the bottom of the mountain, so get in when you’re ready.”

Has it already gotten that late?

I was thinking I should probably take a quick shower, but Gu Sejun looked at the rock I’d hit, a look of admiration on his face like it was pretty good.

“Hmm, this rock—. You’re doing some rather interesting things.”

Gu Sejun’s comment ended there, but I was more surprised that he’d noticed the subtle change to the rock.

He saw something even Pangdaengi missed, he’s got sharp eyes.

After that, I got in the old van and headed to Seoul.

We took winding routes through places without checkpoints, so I had to be in the car for a pretty long time.

By the time we finally got to Seoul, it was almost midnight.

First, we holed up in a church that looked like a small family home.

TV’s blaring, every channel screaming “US President’s Visit to Korea!” They’re even profiling this guy, President Adams.

━Are you in there?

Then, *knock knock knock* – someone at the door.

I open it, and standing there is the spitting image of the guy on TV? Bbangdangi’s jaw drops, like, seriously.

“He looks exactly like the US President!”

Well, yeah.

This is him, the US President himself, Adams Snail.

TV’s saying he’s arriving in Korea tomorrow, but here he is, right in front of us, kinda freaky.

“Gu Se-jun told me about you. Ha Nam-jin, right? Said you wanted to meet me.”

He strides into the church, and I’m instantly on high alert.

Dude’s from West Virginia, never left the States, and he’s speaking Korean like it’s his first language? Something’s rotten.

Then, like he can read my mind, he answers my thoughts, “Surprised I speak Korean? After living as long as I have, learning a few languages is trivial. Why hide it? I’ve been the US President for the last 100 years.”

“No way!” Bbangdangi is freaking out.

Then, President Adams starts touching his face, and his face shifts from a white man, to a black man, to a woman, then back to the white guy.

They were all US Presidents.

He’s changing faces like it’s nothing.

He’s been using this freaky ability to trick people and hold the US Presidency for a century.

“I’ve been here a long, long time. Do you know the wonder of watching the pyramids get built? The roar of the crowd when a continent is finally united after war?”

This was it. The story of how the “Sage Council” has been pulling strings behind the scenes, for who knows how long.

They’re not just a bunch of power-hungry old guys.

You could call them a “secret society.”

“Lies! No one can live that long!” Bbangdangi’s growling.

But President Adams is cool as a cucumber, “Baek Yeo-ul, right? We were there when your clan, the Dang Moon, was born. We were there when we sent spaceships to the moon. We’ve always been there.”

“So you’re the ones who wiped out the dinosaurs! You killed my Triceratops!”

Bbangdangi, making it super clear, is pissed. She really likes Triceratops, I guess.

Triceratops are awesome, with those three horns, so I like them too.

“Could it be… that you caused the Permian extinction!?”

The Permian extinction was what scared me most in this world.

If this old man caused that event—

I could never forgive this man.

But the man answered with utmost seriousness.

“…I wasn’t around for that long. I’ve been beside them since humans started making countries and calling themselves kings. We controlled everything. At least until 20 years ago.”

“Control for what, exactly? Who are you? What’s your goal?”

He’s not an ordinary human.

Is he even human in the first place?

I touched the half-bald head of the American President.

It felt like a real person.

“Quite a vivid bald patch you’ve got there.”

“This one’s a very amusing friend.”