I Became an Outcast the Martial Arts Masters are Obsessed With

Chapter 566




The Peak Martial Artist of the Heavenly Demon Sect, Jeon-ip, shoved noodles into his mouth on the first floor of the gambling house.

Normally, Jeon-ip would head straight to the underground gambling hall as soon as he entered the gambling house or the Gilu, but lately, he had been spending time in the upper levels of Gilu.

Suddenly, a group from the Blood Sect appeared in the Central Plains and started causing chaos. While the Heavenly Demon Sect had yet to suffer any damage, with the entire Central Plains in turmoil, the martial artists of the Heavenly Demon Sect were paying keen attention to the rumors both internal and external, and Jeon-ip was no exception.

“The Hall Master of the Hell Flame Mayhem and the Hall Master of the Ice Blood Mountain Ghost have gotten into a fight again.”

“Is it true that the gambler Bak Cheol has reached the Peak Stage?”

Usually, a gambling house sells food and drinks alongside gambling. Where there are drinks, people, and food, rumors naturally spread, so Jeon-ip often occupied himself with meals in the gambling house or Gilu while keeping an ear to the ground for gossip.

“Recently, those from the Blood Sect have been running rampant in the Central Plains?”

“Yeah. What kind of sorcery are they using, leading entities to throw the world into chaos?”

“Tsk tsk. It’s the end of days. The end of days!”

“Hehe, but we’re the mighty martial artists of the Heavenly Demon Sect, aren’t we?”

Today seemed to lack any special rumors. Jeon-ip slowly finished off the noodles he had been pushing to the back of his throat and stood up from his seat.

Just then,

Crash bang!

“What a bunch of swindlers!”

A loud commotion erupted as tables overturned. Jeon-ip, who had just stood up, glanced over nonchalantly. Fights breaking out in gambling houses were part of the daily routine.

However, a puzzled expression appeared on Jeon-ip’s face when he saw those causing the ruckus.

It was Chil Jo and Wi-gyeong, who were infamous for pulling tricks, now clinging to the collar of their opponent and fuming. These two were known swindlers who conspired to rip off others at the poker table.

Yet, now this duo was accusing someone else of being a swindler.

Either they were incredibly skilled or truly bad at cheating—those were the only explanations.

Jeon-ip felt curiosity stir within him as he observed the fracas between the three.

The one being grabbed by the collar calmly protested, “One person cheated two? That’s just ridiculous.”

“What nonsense! Although we’re familiar with each other, there was never any cheating in our games!”

Even Jeon-ip found it hard to believe. They shared a bond and had sat at the gambling table together, but if they weren’t working together, what else could it be?

It was a blatant scheme that was simultaneously a disgusting one. The table had already been overturned, erasing the evidence, so they intended to use their numbers and loud voices to get away with it and squeeze money out of others.

So, how would that person escape this situation?

“Fine. Let’s play another round.”

Responding to Jeon-ip’s expectation, the guy offered an outrageous solution.

“What? What do you mean?”

“There are already many watching us. If we make them both observers and audience members, we can just play again, right?”

Jeon-ip was impressed by the man’s suggestion. Despite knowing that the two were working together, he still proposed restarting the game? Only someone with immense confidence could make such a proposal.

Chil Jo and Wi-gyeong couldn’t hide their astonishment at the man’s suggestion.

“W-why do we have to play a game with a swindler?”

“Do you have any evidence that I gambled unfairly? You don’t, do you? So if you say I’m a swindler without accepting my proposal, who would believe you? So, are we going to settle this or not?”

The man crossed his arms as if no further words were needed. Now the ones in trouble were Chil Jo and Wi-gyeong, who had to respond.

After nervously glancing around, Chil Jo’s face brightened with an idea. “Alright! But we need someone to play with us!”

The basic poker game required four players. The person who had been at the table with them had already left to avoid the ruckus.

In short, they needed to find someone to sit at the table for the game to commence.

“Haha! Exactly! You need people to gamble for the game to happen!”

Wi-gyeong caught onto Chil Jo’s intent and smirked. Among the three, two were known swindlers, while the last was obviously a skilled player. Who would sit at this table under such pretenses?

Sitting at the table would mean losing money and incurring the resentment of Wi-gyeong and Chil Jo.

As such, the two quickly regained confidence, while Jeon-ip watched the scene with crossed arms. Now, how would that man resolve this issue?

As Jeon-ip kept watching the man’s actions, their eyes inadvertently met.

“Won’t you help me?”

Jeon-ip paused momentarily. Why pick me out of everyone? He hadn’t been hidden to the point of not being noticed, nor had he been making an overt presence.

Reading Jeon-ip’s confusion, the man opened his mouth.

“I shouldn’t say this as a form of thanks, but if you sit at the table, I will do my utmost without holding anything back.”

“Pfft.”

The words thrown as if they were waiting drew a chortle from Jeon-ip.

Looking back now, this commotion was quite unnatural.

The man had already picked up on the two gambling, and he possessed the skills and composure to deal with them simultaneously without being frightened by the commotion.

With such information and capability, he surely had a chance to intervene before it escalated to this level.

He could have either clearly shown his abilities to those two or prevented the game from being overturned.

There must have been various methods and opportunities, yet the man had chosen to escalate the commotion.

Why was that?

“Were you aiming for me from the start…!?”

Was this commotion truly to get Jeon-ip seated at the table?

Jeon-ip, realizing he had fallen into the man’s scheme, chuckled wryly but approached the three.

The fact that he had gotten caught in the man’s plan stung his pride a little. However, at the same time, it was an opportunity to serve a bitter lesson to the two who had long been a thorn in his side during gambling.

And above all, he was incredibly curious about the man’s gambling skills.

What were the true capabilities of someone who could orchestrate such a plan? Just imagining it made his heart race after a long time.

“Is it really appropriate for a Great Hero to step in…?”

“Sit down.”

Jeon-ip, the Peak Martial Artist who frequented the underground gambling halls, was someone whom no ordinary person could defy, given the disparity in status between ordinary individuals and the martial artists of the Heavenly Demon Sect. Chil Jo and Wi-gyeong had no choice but to take their seats at the table.

“My name is Jeon-ip. What shall I call you?”

“I’ve long since abandoned my name. Just call me Dogwi.”

“A pretty cool name. Now, let’s see what you’ve got.”

The poker game began. The order was Dogwi, Chil Jo, Jeon-ip, then Wi-gyeong, and after two unremarkable rounds passed, it was Jeon-ip’s turn.

Jeon-ip held his cards and observed Dogwi, who hadn’t exhibited any particular behavior.

‘If you want to keep watching, then I’ll start first.’

Ta-da-dak!

With a rapid dexterity that diverged from the others, Jeon-ip shuffled the wooden and bone poker cards, creating a ruckus. Seeing his earnestness sparked shock in both of his opponents, and the audience watching the four began to exclaim in awe.

Snap! Ta-dak!

After mixing the cards, Jeon-ip dealt, then picked up his hand to examine it.

The value was 25.

Even when considering the rankings, it was a high card, and among the fifteen cards he had informed beforehand, it was the best hand.

Jeon-ip observed Dogwi’s reaction. He had put 25 on his hand while intentionally placing 23 on Dogwi’s.

23 was by no means a low card, so if a decent number showed up among the unknown cards, it was a situation worth contemplating.

“I’ll stake two coins. Let’s go.”

Along with that, Wi-gyeong, holding a high card of 28, threw a delicious sum onto the table, creating an alluring situation.

‘But this is just a trap.’

Jeon-ip recalled his hidden card. That hidden card was a 10, the highest remaining combination among the fifteen cards he already knew. Even if Dogwi had a winning card against Jeon-ip, it would only be due to luck regarding unknown cards.

Thus, simply observing Dogwi’s betting behavior would suffice to gauge his skill.

What choice would Dogwi make?

“I’ll bet two more coins.”

In response to Jeon-ip’s expectations, Dogwi picked up his hidden card and without hesitation, placed his bet. Since Wi-gyeong had already placed a bet, Chil Jo wouldn’t have any surviving options.

“I’ll raise it by another two coins.”

Jeon-ip raised the stakes to test Dogwi further. Just how far would Dogwi go, and what decisions would he make along the way?

“I’ll take and raise one more.”

In a bold move, Dogwi chose to increase the stakes with no hesitation, igniting Jeon-ip’s excitement. Only a combination of 27 through 32 could defeat 25 and 10. Yet, 28 belonged to Wi-gyeong; 30 and 32 were already mixed in the deck.

In short, Dogwi had only two possible winning scenarios: either pulling a 27 or a 31.

Had he truly drawn one of those two? Or was he pretending to hold them?

“I’ll also take and raise another coin.”

Jeon-ip decided to escalate the stakes to see if Dogwi’s decisions were bluffs or sheer luck.

“I’ll take and raise once more.”

Neither Jeon-ip nor Dogwi hesitated to raise the bets, and what began as a base bet of two coins skyrocketed to a pot of over ten coins. Jeon-ip felt that testing Dogwi further had become pointless and decided to place his final coin.

“Let’s stick with this, then.”

“Agreed.”

The stakes had risen to over fifty coins on the table. Those watching anticipated the outcome with bated breath.

Jeon-ip was the first to reveal their cards.

25 paired with a 10.

While the cards were exposed, the audience gasped. No, they collectively held their breath. Dogwi’s opening hand was a 27, so there was still potential for him to win.

What would Dogwi reveal?

Feeling the eyes of Jeon-ip and the audience upon him, Dogwi slowly unveiled his cards. The audience gasped in awe, and Jeon-ip let out a chuckle.

“Ha.”

30.

The 30 Jeon-ip thought lay hidden in the pile was in Dogwi’s hand. The implications of that made Jeon-ip smile involuntarily.

Since Dogwi initiated the round, he had only one opportunity to shuffle the cards to his advantage during his initial turn.

That was during the first turn of his round.

As soon as his second turn began, Dogwi had made his move. However, he hadn’t immediately shown his hand afterward.

“I’ve completely been had.”

Jeon-ip hadn’t sensed that Dogwi had already made his move and had solely focused on his play, thus spectacularly falling for the trap.

As such thoughts flickered through Jeon-ip’s mind, he wondered: if he had been more cautious, could he have avoided this predicament?

The answer was a resounding no.

While Dogwi’s trap had severely taken him down, he realized that it was an inescapable trap from the moment he sensed it. So, if several more turns had gone by with layers upon layers of traps, what would have happened?

It wouldn’t have merely ended with him getting caught; he might have turned into a prey ensnared within a spider’s web.

Even knowing that his opponent was someone who could meticulously devise strategies, Jeon-ip, intoxicated by ego, failed to perceive Dogwi’s moves and foolishly went for the first strike. That was a clear mistake.

Jeon-ip had lost significant momentum in this round.

In order to seize the techniques, he would need to continually place bets. However, with dwindling funds, Jeon-ip attempted to swindle away from Chil Jo and Wi-gyeong to make up the money, but that wasn’t easy either.

Chil Jo and Wi-gyeong had already been pickpocketed by Dogwi before this game even started.

“I’ve lost.”

Thus, Jeon-ip could only helplessly accept defeat with his now empty pockets.

“I-I’m sorry. I failed to recognize your gambling skills!”

“The outcome of the last round was fair!”

Chil Jo and Wi-gyeong hastily made their escape. Watching them, Jeon-ip clicked his tongue but realized that his current predicament was no different from theirs, leading to a bitter smile as he stood from his spot.

“Why didn’t you go all out?”

However, Dogwi stopped Jeon-ip.

“I gave it my all.”

“Lies.”

Dogwi cut off Jeon-ip’s excuses and continued.

“Wasn’t the game set up in such a way that you couldn’t even give it your all? Even though you didn’t display a hint of discontent or impatience and just gave up, how can you claim you put forth your full effort?”

Under Dogwi’s scrutiny, Jeon-ip let out a wry smile.

He was right. Jeon-ip had indeed not given it his all. But that was also a natural consequence.

However, was the fact Jeon-ip considered natural the same for this gambler? Jeon-ip pondered, watching Dogwi as he finally spoke up.

“Because I’m a martial artist and you’re someone lacking in martial arts.”

“That’s irrelevant. I wish to compete with you honestly.”

Dogwi refused to back down. Jeon-ip sighed and spoke again.

“Indeed. I understand your feelings. A gambler who relies solely on physical ability to disrupt a martial artist’s game would be quite annoying, and it’s only natural for the one who just lost to irk you by saying it wasn’t my true strength. However… the disparity in physical capabilities undeniably exists.”

“I understand. That is why I invited you to this game.”

It’s getting ridiculous, Jeon-ip thought, wanting to grasp his head.

How could someone lacking martial arts possibly catch up to someone who had mastered it?

That was an impossible statement.

Between Dogwi and Jeon-ip was a gap that couldn’t be bridged.

The notion of technique disparity was something a martial artist was accustomed to. Unless there was some special circumstance, even a single step difference in realm would lead martial artists to acknowledge the opponent’s strength without pulling their weapons.

But why was that? Is it because martial artists were inherently born stronger than the weak and weaker than the strong?

No.

It was because the gap represented by that single step was so clear that it didn’t necessitate a fight.

Starting from physical training to a complete understanding of martial arts, the total amount of Qi and its operational methods, and the difference in the methods learned. Due to various factors, some became Peak Martial Artists, while others reached the Peak Stage or Hwa-gyeong.

Only with such minimal gaps could this occur.

Then what about the disparity between Dogwi, who lacked martial arts, and Jeon-ip, who could make the leap to the Peak Stage anytime he gained realization?

Since they were comparing fields of expertise – gambling instead of martial arts – the gap became even more pronounced. What was the difference in gambling skills between Dogwi and Jeon-ip? Jeon-ip might find out for himself, but regardless, compared to the substantial physical difference, it probably wasn’t anything significant.

Yet, Dogwi spoke of challenging that gap. How absurd could that be?

Did this person truly grasp the extent of that disparity? The idea of smashing an egg against a rock wasn’t as far-fetched as this.

“I have a lifelong rival. This is someone who shattered my arrogance and made me realize that I was a frog in a well, and I vowed to dedicate my life to reaching the same position he occupies.”

As if sensing Jeon-ip’s thoughts, Dogwi spoke.

“I knew you were no ordinary person since the beginning, but recent rumors claim you’re also renowned in the martial realm. Thus, I desperately sought experience gambling against a martial artist.”

“…Hmm.”

Jeon-ip read the determination hidden deep within Dogwi’s eyes. A firm will not to be broken by any trial. Staring into those eyes, Jeon-ip let out a long sigh and sat back down.

“Look.”

Papapababak!!

It happened in an instant.

As soon as Jeon-ip’s butt hit the chair, as his mouth began to move, the movement of his hand—a skill worthy of admiration if it were witnessed by a master of martial arts—unfolded with remarkable speed.

In the blink of an eye, Jeon-ip gathered all the cards from the game, shuffled them, dealt them out, and even revealed his hidden cards.

When the hidden cards were revealed, Dogwi’s eyes trembled.

Dogwi’s hand had no winning cards, while Jeon-ip had 30 and 32 before him. It was a split second decision made so quickly that even those watching could barely follow along, determining the winner almost immediately.

The difference was truly overwhelming.

“Your lifelong rival is said to be famed in the martial world? If that’s the case, they must have reached no less than the Peak Stage. I carry confidence in my hands, but if there’s someone a level above me, achieving that sort of speed shouldn’t be too hard.”

Dogwi understood what Jeon-ip intended to convey.

“Give up.”

“Pass it on to me, then.”

But Dogwi remained unfazed and responded. An overwhelming gap? The defeat he faced at the Video Tower was even more pronounced than this. Yet, he had ventured the world, honing his skills to surpass Ho Cheon-an.

With utmost effort, he had barely earned recognition as a gambler.

So, what on earth was there to fear? Dogwi merely planned to continue moving forward as he always had.

“Ha! Is that so? I’ve underestimated your resolve.”

And Jeon-ip felt that resolve as well. Thus, he reached into his pocket and placed a piece of metal onto the table.

“This serves as a token of apology and the goodwill of someone wishing to support you.”

It was military currency.

“Head to the underground. And try challenging the impossible.”

“Thank you.”

Dogwi rose from his seat and made his way to the underground.

His tightly clenched fist contained the military currency that Jeon-ip had handed him.



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