After escaping the iron workshop, Myeongshin arrived at a small marketplace street located a little distance from the Geumryong family estate.

This street, lined with about twenty houses on either side, was the entire village. A street like a resting place for travelers between villages.

Walking through the darkened street, Myeongshin reached a shabby tavern there.

The tavern owner was a man wiping tables with a rag as he finished closing up.

The owner was a truly ordinary man—appearance, height, looks—someone whose face you might see once in a lifetime. Whether as a merchant, a shopkeeper, or a martial artist, he looked like someone you’d pass by thinking “just another person.” No moles, scars, or distinctive marks.

When Myeongshin entered, the owner said while wiping:

“Guest, we’re closed.”

“I’ll just have a quick bite and a drink before I go.”

The owner showed an awkward expression as he sized him up. Judging he wasn’t a martial artist, he relaxed.

“You look like you’ve missed a meal and haven’t eaten all night.”

“I’ve been struggling to survive, so it’s been like that.”

The owner put down the rag and beckoned him inside.

“Thank you. I’ll eat quickly and leave.”

Myeongshin sat by the window; the owner went to the kitchen and brought out some alcohol and simple food.

“It’s cold but still edible.”

“Thank you.”

After serving the food and drink, the owner resumed wiping the same table.

Then suddenly asked:

“Anything strange?”

At the unexpected question, Myeongshin answered:

“Perfect.”

Putting down the rag, the owner looked at Myeongshin.

“It’s been a while since a tavern owner came here. When was the last time?”

“Four years ago, when we killed the Three Righteous Warriors (Jeongmu Samgaek).”

“Ah, that’s right.”

Surprisingly, this owner was the current head of the registry and would become the future King of Assassins—namely, the Murder King.

Extraordinary within ordinariness, mastering the ultimate degree.

A person who, by imitating a hundred lives, becomes those lives themselves. Today, his life was a tavern owner.

The Murder King resumed wiping the rag—this way and that way, practicing how to be natural. Amazingly, he was researching and rehearsing.

“As expected, Geom Mugeuk came.”

“How was he in person?”

“As heard, he was special.”

“In what way?”

Myeongshin recalled the moment Geom Mugeuk strode over, grabbed his hand, and pulled the handle. The clear, deep eyes looking at him came to mind.

“Confident, pleasant, and free.”

“The Little Pill Master scored points with you.”

The Murder King smiled widely at Myeongshin.

You might not expect a smile from him, but the Murder King showed many expressions and rich emotional ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) displays. He could cry bitter tears at sad things, and roar like a furious fire when angry.

But Myeongshin knew all those emotions were practiced and fabricated.

One word described the Murder King as Myeongshin saw him:

Void.

His inner self held nothing—no desire for slaughter, no filthy greed.

Or rather, he was born with an interior that no force could fill.

Like an icy cliff. Anything entering his heart slips down into the endless darkness below.

That was why Myeongshin believed this man before him would someday be the King of Assassins.

Because he would never hesitate in any situation or moment.

Myeongshin surveyed inside the tavern. There were devices for ambush everywhere: the wooden container holding chopsticks in a corner, the old curtain at the kitchen entrance, the pig doll on the counter, the broken hole in the wall…

All of these were death traps. None bore the typical iron-scented killing aura of the agency, so ordinary people could never recognize them. Most were made by himself.

“Are you really going to kill the Little Pill Master?”

It was actually a needless question.

The preparations were not limited to this tavern.

Myeongshin’s gaze shifted to the building across the street.

Through the window, men were wiping blood from the wall.

When a cart arrived, assassins began loading corpses onto it.

On the rooftop stood Hyulla (Blood Net), the hottest rising assassin of the registry lately.

Thirty-nine assassinations without a single mistake.

Among the masters he killed were many well-known names.

He was Myeongshin’s direct junior, but his eyes showed no respect.

More corpses were brought out from other buildings.

A masked man standing in front of a building lightly nodded.

He was not from the registry’s assassins.

Eophwa (Karmic Fire), an elite assassin of Salcheon (Killing Heaven).

For this job, the Murder King borrowed the highest-skilled assassins from other organizations.

Nearby, two assassins were chatting while looking up at a textile shop sign. Though not tied to any organization, they were the famed Black Shadow Twin Assassins.

The entire street was annihilated today.

Now these top assassins would replace those lost.

Dozens of known assassins were mobilized for this assassination.

Such a large-scale assassination was unprecedented in assassin history.

No matter the outcome, it would be remembered forever.

“If we kill the Little Pill Master, we will all die too.”

“Afraid of dying?”

Myeongshin said nothing and watched the cart carrying corpses leave.

Then the Murder King shouted.

“Wait!”

He strode to the roadside.

Walked toward the cart piled with corpses.

Grabbing one corpse’s neck with indifferent eyes. The corpse’s eyes opened—it was not dead yet. Faint life remained, undetected even inside the distant building.

Crack crack crack.

The quiet night echoed with the sound of a broken neck.

Returning inside as if nothing happened, the Murder King continued.

“If we die, won’t we want to see those we killed again? Don’t you want to see them?”

After a moment, Myeongshin answered.

“I see them every day.”

The Murder King’s eyes glowed white. The coldness gave Myeongshin goosebumps on the back of his neck.

“The decision is out of our hands. It’s been decided from above. So we kill only the Little Pill Master and get out.”

Myeongshin worriedly asked:

“The Heavenly Demon won’t just let that go after losing his son. He’ll chase us to the ends of hell.”

“We are not in hell. We are in this world. If we want to hide, they will never find us.”

Yes, the Murder King could do that. He could even live undetected as a life of a pursuer.

“Why stop?”

Myeongshin’s role was to bring the Little Pill Master here.

Normally, there are assassins specialized in luring targets to the kill site. But the Murder King entrusted that to Myeongshin.

Unexpectedly, the Murder King answered:

“The Little Pill Master resembles you.”

Myeongshin looked back.

“A demonic martial artist pretending to be righteous?”

Knowing it was a rebuke, Myeongshin said nothing.

An assassin’s role.

Not killing children.

Not killing the untrained.

Not killing the innocent.

These had been Myeongshin’s conditions during his assignments.

The Murder King slowly walked over and stood beside Myeongshin.

“Shina.”

“!”

It was a name spoken after a long time.

“Stop the hypocrisy. If you keep giving meaning to killing people for money, only you will suffer.”

Myeongshin said nothing. Or rather, could not.

“If we weren’t friends, you’d be dead by now.”

He was now clinging naked to the smooth ice cliff of the Murder King. If forced off, his skin would be torn off.

He was the only one the Murder King had ever allowed on that cliff.

“I’ll be going now. It won’t be easy to bring him.”

As Myeongshin said goodbye, the Murder King resumed wiping the table.

“Is killing ever easy?”

Myeongshin stepped out of the tavern. The eyes of the surrounding assassins naturally focused on him.

Hyulla from across spoke to the Murder King.

“How much would it cost to kill an assassin who doesn’t want to kill people?”

Rumors said Myeongshin was avoiding contracts, even wanting to retire.

The Murder King stopped wiping and quietly answered.

“If an assassin doesn’t want to kill, then he is already dead.”

Hyulla laughed aloud at that.

Then—

Whoooooosh!

With a hand extended, the Murder King instantly pulled Hyulla from the rooftop. A divine technique backed by tremendous internal power.

Even as the Murder King grabbed his neck, Hyulla dared not resist.

“P-please forgive me!”

Despite his pleas, the Murder King did not hesitate, drew a dagger, and sliced off his tongue.

Spurt!

Blood sprayed everywhere from the severed tongue.

Hyulla dared not scream, staunched the bleeding himself.

Not only the registry assassins but those from other groups held their breath.

Myeongshin and the Murder King’s eyes met on the street.

Myeongshin turned silently and walked away. The Murder King searched for a rag.

“Our Little Pill Master likes drinking in shabby taverns.”

The Murder King squatted and began wiping blood from the floor.

“We should send him off where he likes.”

When Geom Mugeuk returned to his quarters, Geum Arin was waiting.

“Where on earth have you been wandering so late at night?”

She had rushed over after hearing assassins had entered Geom Mugeuk’s quarters, but he had gone out. Coming and going, he was nowhere to be found. Finally, they met at night.

“You almost got a bounty placed on your head, the highest in martial history.”

Geum Arin made a face as if saying, “I didn’t come here to hear nonsense all day!”

“Did you get hurt fighting assassins?”

“No. Looks like they sent assassins cheaper than my price.”

His unchanged joke showed he was fine.

“Whose doing is this?”

Geom Mugeuk did not tell her honestly.

“I don’t know. I have so many enemies.”

Geum Arin wondered if the contractor might be from her family. No matter how many enemies, would they really ambush him in the Geumryong estate?

“Don’t die. You promised me.”

Recalling the promise to make him heir, Geom Mugeuk suddenly asked.

“Can you kill your older brothers?”

“!”

Caught off guard, Geum Arin was startled.

“Do you think your brothers will easily give up the heirship? If they risk their lives to keep it, can you take those lives?”

If she had never thought about it before, that would be a lie.

But faced with the question, she couldn’t answer easily. Neither no nor yes.

After a while, she said:

“I don’t know.”

Looking down, she didn’t see Geom Mugeuk’s faint smile.

Because a person who answers “I don’t know” was still the best of the three in Geom Mugeuk’s eyes.

“Think seriously about it.”

It was time not to look at stars but at the ground she stood on.

Whether it would become solid land, a sewer, or a thousand-foot cliff depended on her choices and fate.

After sending her off, Geom Mugeuk stood in the yard and looked up at the night sky.

Then came a voice from behind.

“You missed the chance to leave a name in martial history.”

It was after hearing about the bounty.

Geom Mugeuk smiled and answered.

“I am a person driven by honor as much as greed, but I refuse to be recorded in assassin history.”

Hee smiled and approached.

“The mastermind behind this is the assassins.”

Geom Mugeuk conveyed his certainty to Hee.

Hee should know before his father who was probably sleeping now.

As it was confirmed the opponent was assassins, a strong light flashed and faded in Hee’s eyes.

“The threat of placing a bounty did not sound like a joke. If targeted, they would come for me.”

They would never dare assassinate his father.

“You asked me about assassins?”

He had something he must tell Geom Mugeuk.

“What comes to mind when you think of assassins?”

Geom Mugeuk answered immediately.

“Ambush, stealth attack, cowardice, suicide, poison, nastiness, despicable, the highest bounty in history, too bad I didn’t get it. Things like that.”

Hee smiled and answered the same question.

“When I think of assassins, these come to mind.”

And none of them were among what Geom Mugeuk said.

“Patience, planning, investigation, preparation, study.”

Geom Mugeuk had never thought of these aspects first when thinking of assassins.

“We tend to think assassins are impulsive and emotional, but that’s not true. Assassins are the most rational and methodical. They endure, study, and prepare. They overcome skill gaps that way.”

That was Hee’s main point.

“They have completed every investigation on the Little Pill Master—his personality, likes, reactions to situations, what he says in certain cases, what food he likes, and whom he trusts. They might know him better than he knows himself.”

Hearing that, Geom Mugeuk thought: perhaps the person who does not know himself well is easier to be killed by assassins.

“All the investigation and preparation of assassins is only for one moment.”

“What moment?”

Everyone knows but forgets for that one moment.

“When you relax your guard.”

Hee’s eyes shone as he calmly asked:

“When is the moment the Little Pill Master lets his guard down most?”