Wiro Sableng Volume 2 Chapter 2
Different release time may mean different batch of readers, and different stalkers of NU! Hope those of you “realizing” this novel for the first time will love this one! Enjoy!
This is release number 4/5 for the week!
As always, your “doping” is much apreciated! Ratings, Reviews, Reading List addition in NU is much appreciated!
TL: Wildhammer Ed: Fatty Kindsword
Wiro Sableng Book 2 Chapter 2
The sun had long shifted to the western horizon. The color that had reflected the sun’s scorching heat was now fading to yellowish red as if it did not have the strength to hold against the coming of the evening. The late afternoon which existence would be seized by the dusk and the dusk that would yield at the gate of the night. The path taken by the young man was becoming more difficult, it was winding and ascending. On his right and left flanks, he was always surrounded by the white cliff rocks which hardness was never changing from one age to another. Suddenly from the top of the cliff to the east came a weird whistling sound which screeched uncomfortably in the young man’s ears. The young man cautiously turned his head and looked up. The peak of the cliff was about twenty-five spear distances in height. It was steep and extremely difficult to climb. But the sharp eyes of the young man could see the bulges carved along the slopes from bottom to top. Those bulges served as footholds to help climbing the cliff. However, do not expect ordinary people to be able to use it. In one wrong step, one would freefall into the bottom, confronted by its jagged rocks!
The strange whistle resounded out louder and louder than the first. And for a moment the young man’s eyes turned back to the peak of the cliff. He was surprised to see the appearance of an old bearded man with his right leg and right hand amputated. The stump of those limbs were connected with wood. At the upper ends of the wooden arm it was embedded with a sickle-shaped object which gleamed in the sunlight on that late afternoon! In his left hand, he held a blue iron stick. Since the peak of the cliff where this bearded man stood was so high, the young man could not clearly recognize this person’s face, even more because his face was covered in beard. Only vaguely he could see that this man was a vicious-looking old man. Looking at the beard covering most of his face, the young man was emboldened that he was close to his destination. He might have arrived there. Examined thoroughly in such a way, the vicious, bearded old man also looked at the young man sternly. However, no one broke the silence for quite some time. The young man who became impatient waved his hands and gave a slight bow.
“Old man, this junior is wondering if this is the correct way to Sanggreng Cave?!”. The person asked frowned his forehead.
“You long-haired boy, are you the one nicknamed the Fire Dragon Hatchet 212 Fighter…?” The young man on the slope of the cliff was shocked. Who is this bearded, vicious-looking old man? Was he the master or senior of Bergola Wungu, the enemy who had invited him to come to Sanggreng Cave?
“I feel no one gave me that nickname, old man…!” replied the young man who was none other than Wiro Sableng. The bearded old man still stared intensely at the young man. Indeed, it was unbelievable that this young man was the Fighter of the Fire Dragon Hatchet 212, as the number 212 had caused a huge wave in the martial arts world twenty years ago. However the features his students had described about this young man fit perfectly. The bearded man then whistled again. This time his whistling sound was different from the former two. In a moment, came the figure dressed in black. This man’s face was also bearded and Wiro could recognize him as the one who had challenged him, Bergola Wungu! Now he was convinced that the wooden-legged man was closely associated with Bergola Wungu. From below, he saw the two men talking while the wooden-legged one occasionally pointed with his blue stick towards Wiro. Suddenly a laughter roared from the wooden-legged man. The surrounding area seemed torn apart by his laughing sound. While laughing, he tapped the stick in his left hand on the rock. The rock vibrated and the part tapped was crumbled to dust! Then the eyes of the wooden-legged old man looked sharply at Wiro Sableng again.
“If you are not an impostor to Warrior 212, then you must be Sinto Gendeng’s disciple… Aye, looks like you are no different than other snot-nosed brats. Just like your own teacher! Stupid and crazy…!”
“Watch your mouth, old geezer!” Wiro yelled because his teacher was humiliated. In silence, he was also surprised that this bearded man knew his teacher’s name. He measured that the old man was possibly around the same age as Granny Sinto Gendeng. The bearded cripple laughed once more. He tapped his stick again.
My disciple Bergola Wungu spoke too highly of you. However after seeing you in person, it’s obvious you are just a blockhead! When I heard about the death of my three disciples, I wanted to battle you up to hundred techniques. I would crush your head with this blue iron stick! But in fact you are just a spoiled brat, still sucking your fingers! Still wearing your diapers! A fighter of your pitiful level, with one swing from my stick you are already a goner!” It provoked Wiro Sableng’s anger. His young blood felt boiling hot in his veins.
“Hey you old fart!” he shouted.
“You are too cocky! Don’t you know that an ant is able to defeat an elephant? Don’t you know that a strong man can slip by a small mossy pebble…?!” The bearded wooden-legged man grinned coldly.
“Perhaps you don’t know the opposite of what you said, brat! Did you know that once an ant is trampled by an elephant it will break, sinking to the ground?! Don’t you know that a pebble when kicked will fling far powereless to resist? “Wiro Sableng snorted from his nose.
“Sometimes people are too clever they talk stupidly complicated like you!” he replied.
“But never mind… I don’t have any business with you. Let me talk to Bergola Wungu!”
The old man chuckled. “Don’t you say you have nothing to do with me, stupid brat! My three disciples were killed…”
“I didn’t kil them…!”
“But you had some part in it!” Bergola Wungu countered.
“Woahh!” Wiro said. “In front of your master, you can blab your mouth that big, huh, Bergola! I have come to accept your challenge!” Bergola Wungu laughed mockingly.
“This is not Sanggreng Cave, Wiro! It’s not here that you meet your doom!”
“Look at you Bergola, acting so cool! One forgetting his own fate is exactly the kind of you! You do realize that you were just a brat from Jatiwalu, you farce! You, who had learned a tiny piece of martial arts, then boastfully became a bandit leader! But then you dared to challenge me only with the help of your master! If I were you, I would jump from that peak down to the bottom, kicking the bucket in shame!” Bergola Wungu’s face reddened up to his ears and neck. He gritted his mouth tightly and gnashed his teeth. But he could not find an answer to talk back to Wiro.
Then the wooden-legged old man said. “You brat 212, because you talked in such arrogant manners, you surely have some reliable skills. This old man wants to exchange blows with you!”
Wiro Sableng chortled, “You are the arrogant one, old man! In your old age close to your end, aren’t you satisfied yet to do battle? Well, if you truly insist on exchanging blows with me, this young man is willing to serve you…” Wiro rubbed his palms against each other, “But first I want to know your name and who you are…”
The old man roared a laughter again which caused tremor in the surrounding cliff.
“I am a dweller of Sanggreng Cave who, for these past forty years, had adventured in the world of martial arts! Did you hear that, brat? If you want to know my name… I am the one called Bladra Wikuyana, the Hurricane of the West!”
Surely Wiro Sableng was surprised to hear the real name and the moniker of that bearded wooden-legged man because he knew from his master that the Hurricane of the West was a formidable warrior who led a martial arts school in West Java, whose name was well-known in the martial arts world, however he was suspected to be a member of black martial artist (evil warriors).
This young man, however, did not cower at all. Instead he laughed out out, “You have quite a cool moniker, old geezer! But as far as I know, wind is just an empty useless thing and it stinks horribly when passing from one’s ass!” Bladra Wikuyana produced a whistling sound angrily.
“F**king brat! You dare to be insolent in front of the Hurricane of the West! Take this…!”
“Swooooooop!” His blue stick slashing down! –
– == 0O0 == -