Myeongshin had contracted himself.

He asked for vengeance for his late parents.

It was the first contract he’d ever made with himself, and it would be his last.

Now that he’d accepted his own contract with this single coin, he must also accept whoever offered him theirs—if he survived this battle.

And at that moment, Myeongshin savored a clarity he’d never before felt.

He was finally facing the life he’d always avoided head-on.

Even now, Salwang revealed no emotion as he watched him.

‘Even as I abandon you, is that all you have to give me?’

Geom Mugeuk’s words echoed in his mind:

―Do not read meaning into it.

All this time, Myeongshin had imagined hidden depths behind those transparent eyes.

Then Geom Mugeuk’s next line surfaced:

―Even if there were meaning, what great meaning would there be?

Right—there was nothing in those eyes.

Myeongshin had been terrified that if there truly was nothing, then his entire life was void—and he’d forced himself to find meaning.

He’d believed Salwang saw him as special—when really it was simply that # Nоvеlight # this curious child had survived.

Once he sorted his thoughts, Myeongshin didn’t look back.

This man had razed his clan, hidden that fact, then raised him as an assassin.

That alone was reason enough to end him.

Before the fight erupted, he informed Geom Mugeuk.

“There are five assassins among the guests.”

At his words, the other patrons—already frozen by the tension—turned pale. A fight had broken out, and now assassins walked among them disguised as customers?

They longed to flee, but dared not. The innkeeper’s true identity—Salwang—stood at the entrance. Any move would bring instant death.

Some wept in terror, some sank to the floor, others trembled as they watched.

Geom Mugeuk made no effort to reassure them. He neither warned them off nor boasted he’d kill hostages without flinching.

If they’d investigated him, they surely knew he was here to spare their lives.

He would use them as hostages—and therein lay their salvation. He wouldn’t slaughter them recklessly.

Myeongshin pinpointed the five.

“The assassins are the third, fourth, and fifth from the left—and the eighth and ninth.”

On one side stood Salwang and the five revealed assassins.

On the other, Geom Mugeuk, Hwi, and Myeongshin.

In that taut standoff, Geom Mugeuk and Salwang’s eyes met in midair.

Salwang showed no impatience—his expression said this scenario was one he’d foreseen.

“Why have you allied with them?”

What desire of Salwang’s had he triggered to bind himself to those killers?

Salwang answered calmly.

“I cannot speak of the contractor. It is the assassins’ rule.”

They were the ones who had commissioned this killing.

Geom Mugeuk drew his Black Demon Sword slowly.

“I have a rule too: never break the tables in an inn. But today, I shall violate that rule.”

Just before the clash, Hwi spoke.

“There are six assassins, not five. And that one too.”

Hwi pointed to a lone guest in the corner.

Myeongshin did not know this person.

With the bodyguard’s keen instincts, Hwi had uncovered the hidden assassin.

“As expected! No one can fool the gentleman’s eyes.”

Geom Mugeuk beamed, then Hwi’s transmission arrived.

―There is still someone uncertain. Do not let your guard down.

If so, they had prepared extensively—hiding an assassin capable of eluding Hwi.

Meanwhile Myeongshin realized a truth about the assassin he’d failed to detect.

‘You never trusted me.’

Had circumstances been different, he too would have joined them to kill Geom Mugeuk. There should never have been an assassin he didn’t know about.

Perhaps that stranger was planted to kill him.

He recalled Salwang’s words.

―If we weren’t friends, you’d already be dead.

Their relationship crystallized. The sliver of doubt that he’d misjudged Salwang vanished.

‘He didn’t spare me out of friendship.’

Now he understood. Salwang had merely been intrigued by the child who accompanied his father, and needed him alive for the ledger’s work. That was why he’d spared Myeongshin.

Myeongshin had denied it out of fear, inventing frozen cliffs of meaning. But it was time to climb past those illusions.

“Since we’re no longer friends, try killing me!”

Myeongshin’s eyes blazed with resolve to slay Salwang.

Geom Mugeuk looked to Hwi. Though unspoken, Hwi understood: protect Myeongshin’s rear.

This fight was Geom Mugeuk’s, Myeongshin’s, and Hwi’s together.

As they prepared to fight, Geom Mugeuk shouted.

“All who are not marked as assassins, drop to the floor!”

Immediately, everyone else prostrated themselves.

At once, Myeongshin lunged at Salwang.

Clang clang clang!
Their blades met midair—two who knew each other intimately, martial skill matched in perfection.

Driven back by Myeongshin’s ferocity, Salwang was forced outside the inn.

Geom Mugeuk realized Salwang had baited them out—confident the remaining assassins inside could kill him and display their full arsenal in this deathtrap.

Hwi met Geom Mugeuk’s gaze; he nodded. Though he would never leave his post, Geom Mugeuk’s eyes said: trust me, protect him. I’m going out.

Hwi’s hesitation was brief—he had volunteered to guard Geom Mugeuk not only to save his life, but to protect those Geom Mugeuk wished to save, and the beliefs behind them.

Silently, Hwi vanished.

At once the assassins inside surged toward Geom Mugeuk, sleeves concealing hidden weapons.

They unleashed the Killing Soul Thunder.

Artifacts forged by the ledger for assassination.

If one’s inner strength fell short, the weapon would tear off the user’s arm.

Kaboom!
The explosive artifacts hurtled outward.

Geom Mugeuk upended a table and channeled his inner strength into it—but before he could block fully—

Shik shik shik!
Needles shot from small holes in the table’s underside at Geom Mugeuk.

A device laid in wait for one who would block with a table.

Even if the six assassins’ Death Soul Thunders were a ruse, this hidden move was lethal.

Fortunately, Geom Mugeuk’s instincts let him dodge faster than the attack. A moment’s delay, and he’d have been pierced.

Papapapapapapak!
Even as he dodged, artifacts splintered the floor. These Death Soul Thunders could break steel swords and penetrate stone walls.

Yet they could not shatter the table infused with Geom Mugeuk’s energy.

He hurled the table and charged at the assassins.

At the moment one swung his sword to deflect the table—

Geom Mugeuk was gone.

With a slash, his blade slid across the assassin’s belly.

The sliced assassin collapsed. The scent of blood filled the air as the hostages cried out.

More Death Soul Thunders rained down.

Papapapapapapak!
The artifacts burrowed into the floor.

Already Geom Mugeuk was streaking toward his second target.

Then another assassin slammed the abacus on the counter.

The instant—

Ppeoppeoppeong!
Beads flew forward in a deadly scatter.

This weapon was known as the Demon’s Calculation Shot.

Dozens of abacus beads hurtled at terrifying speed—rumored to pierce even masters’ defensive arts.

Geom Mugeuk darted through the flying beads, twisting and contorting his body to find a gap. Not one bead grazed him.

Puak puak puak puak!
Beads shattered the walls all around.

Sunlight slicing through the holes created dozens of streaks in the hall—an eerie ballet of light and weapons.

Shik shik shik shik!
The elite assassins hesitated not, judged swiftly, struck fearlessly. Had their target been anyone else, they’d be congratulating each other now.

Dodging the Demon’s Calculation Shot, Geom Mugeuk vaulted over the counter.

Pak!
The assassin who fired the abacus was struck in the jaw and flung backward into a wall.

At that moment, another assassin pulled a curtain cord in the kitchen.

Chaaaak!
From above, cauldrons of the Flame Bone Toxin poured down onto Geom Mugeuk.

Sshiiiiik!
A noxious cloud of smoke and poison rose.

The abacus strike and toxin were coordinated—if one eliminated the abacus user, they’d be doused in poison.

But Geom Mugeuk’s divine technique let him blink through space, escaping the cloud instantly.

In this cramped hall, his prowess was astonishing.

Yet another assassin charged, kicking a table aside as he lunged.

The shattering table sent bowls, bottles, and dishes soaring—

Including the chopstick holder.

Bam!
The holder exploded at Geom Mugeuk’s feet.

The impact sprang chopsticks out—each laced with poison, triggered when the holder shattered.

Who would watch the chopstick holder amid all that chaos? Myeongshin had crafted this too—Salwang’s reason for leading Myeongshin outside.

Most of today’s devices were Myeongshin’s inventions.

Huuuk.
Struck in the face by poison, Geom Mugeuk collapsed.

The man who attacked with the table also fell, felled by Geom Mugeuk’s blade through the chest. Even dying, he wore a satisfied look—he’d done his duty.

Two assassins approached the fallen Geom Mugeuk to confirm his death. As they prepared to thrust their daggers into his throat—

Shik.
Their blades froze midair.

Geom Mugeuk’s hands gripped their wrists before they knew it.

They lifted other blades to strike—but then—

Hoo!
Geom Mugeuk expelled the toxin he’d swallowed into their faces.

The poison was so potent the two assassins screamed and died.

Now only one assassin remained. He seized a hostage and raised a dagger to her throat.

“Aah!”

“Lay down your sword, or she dies.”

“I think you haven’t researched me well. I don’t lay down my sword just because it’s a hostage situation.”

Before he could finish, Geom Mugeuk lunged.

Shiiiiiik!
Using his Blink Art, he appeared behind the assassin holding the hostage.

As the assassin shoved the woman forward as a shield and raised his dagger—

Screech!
Thud!

Two tearing sounds.

Tragically, both the hostage and her captor fell.

Blood streamed from the woman’s throat—and the assassin’s heart.

Though it seemed the assassin had slain the woman, both died by Geom Mugeuk’s blade.

The dying assassin stared in shock.

“How did you know?”

In the woman’s hand was a dagger.

She too had been an assassin. Thrust forward, she’d launched a surprise attack—her skill even greater than the man’s.

She was the lynchpin of today’s hidden assassins—so lethal Geom Mugeuk himself might have fallen if unaware.

Yet he had sliced her cleanly and then the man behind her, as if he’d known it all along.

To the dying assassin, Geom Mugeuk offered words he would never understand.

―My master said there was still someone uncertain.