The Line Between Us: Part II

Chapter 11: End of the Tyrant

Slowly, color returned to his face. His breathing steadied. He turned, sat back against the wall, slumped in exhaustion—his chest rising and falling, every muscle drained.

In front of him, the fight raged on.

After a flurry of solid punches to Do-hwan’s bloodied face, Joon-seok remained unyielding. He shifted his stance in a blur, ducked low, and hammered fists into Do-hwan’s waist, left and right. Pain contorted Do-hwan’s face, and his body jerked sideways with every punishing blow.

Joon-seok straightened, driving his fists forward again—a quick left jab, followed by a snapping right straight to Do-hwan’s face, forcing the man to stagger backward. Do-hwan planted his feet firmly, forearms rising to block each punishing blow, bracing against the relentless assault.

As Do-hwan lowered his guard, his head tilting slightly, Joon-seok’s punch sailed just past him—an opening. Do-hwan seized it, driving a sharp blow into Joon-seok’s jaw. Joon-seok’s head snapped sideways, sweat and blood spraying into the air.

Do-hwan yanked his head forward and drove a knee into Joon-seok’s face. The crack of Joon-seok’s nose echoed, and he staggered backward, dizzy, blood mingling with sweat.

Do-hwan rained a rapid flurry of punches, each snapping through the air. Joon-seok’s head jerked side to side, lips parted as he struggled to breathe, but as he regained his footing, he raised his forearms, bracing against the relentless onslaught.

Panting heavily, Do-hwan spat out,

“씨발, 내가 총밖에 모를 줄 알았냐?!”
(“Fuck, you thought I only knew guns?!”)

The last punch from Do-hwan came fast, but Joon-seok snapped his head to the side just in time—the blow whistling past him. Instantly, he seized Do-hwan’s wrist, twisting it sharply.

Do-hwan groaned, his body jerking in pain, as Joon-seok ducked low and drove a fist straight into his opponent’s gut. The impact forced Do-hwan to stagger backward, winded but still defiant.

Then, without missing a beat, Joon-seok moved for the next strike. But Do-hwan caught his punch and gripped his elbow. Pivoting fast, he drove his own elbow up beneath Joon-seok’s underarm, locking it tight. Dropping his hips, he thrust his weight forward, hauled Joon-seok over his back, and slammed him hard onto the floor, the impact knocking the air out of his lungs.

Do-hwan planted his boot square on Joon-seok’s upper chest, pinning him to the floor. Joon-seok clawed desperately at the leather, his face flushing red, veins bulging along his temples and neck as he struggled for air.

Do-hwan let out a sharp, cruel laugh.

“죽어라! 네 놈은 내 군화 밑의 벌레일 뿐이야!”
(“Die, you son of a bitch! You’re nothing but a cockroach under my boot!”)

Then a heavy crack split the air—wood smashing against Do-hwan’s skull. Blood burst from the wound, running hot down his face until it seemed he was drenched in it. With a snarl, he tore his boot off Joon-seok’s chest and whipped his head around.

Behind him stood Min-jae, clutching a length of wood. His legs trembled, but somehow he had forced himself upright.

“네가 죽을 거야, 이 개새끼야!”
(“You’re the one who’s gonna die, you fucking bastard!”) he spat, breath ragged.

He lifted the weapon high, aiming for Do-hwan’s face, but his strength gave out, arms trembling mid-swing. Do-hwan struck first—his boot slammed into Min-jae’s gut. The blow hurled him backward, staggering before he crashed hard to the floor.

“먼저 죽고 싶냐? 좋아, 네놈 죽여 버리겠다, 좆같은 놈아!”
(“Want to die first, huh?! Fine, I’ll give it to you, you son of a bitch!”) Do-hwan roared, rage twisting his features.