The assassin glances at the dagger that is stabbed through the table.
âJust howâŚâ
Before he can even think of anything to say, Lee Zaha speaks first.
âIs it the Bajian Society or the Spright Clan? Donât say that itâs neither. I know itâll be dog shit. I knew from the moment you looked into the building.â
ââŚâ
The assassin now sees Lee Zaha in a different light.
The way he had stretched out his body near the gate, eating a dumpling with his mouth open, the look he gave him when talking with the errand boy, and the look he gave him as the errand boy went inside.
He thought this was just Lee Zahaâs everyday life, but it wasnât.
Everything that he seemed to have done coincidentally is so natural that it appears to have blurred into an everyday life routine.
Didnât he only realize what Lee Zaha was doing after seeing the dagger on the table? In other words, even by the standards of their organization, this target is much more skillful than he is.
The assassin then asks him a question.
âIs the Low Down Sect an assassinâs organization?â
Then came the reply.
âYou shouldnât look at the world with such a narrow view.â
I am getting annoyed as I look at this guy I might kill soon. I donât mind killing him, but knowing that this wonât be the end of it is annoying.
I have to eliminate either the Baijian Society or completely root out the Spright Clan, so people like this donât come after me.
The assassin then asks.
âNarrow view?â
âWhen a young man speaks so vulgarly to the leader of the house, it is normal to walk away. It is normal to look pathetic when a grown man appears with a dumpling in his mouth. When someone sings a strange song, most people would think to at least look back. A person who does not respond to any of these three things is clearly not ordinary. Its evidence of training, good quality too.â
The assassinâs face then changes.
âYou didnât recognize me to be an assassin. In the first place, I just thought and saw different things from you. Do you understand what I mean?â
I smile at his words.
âKilling you isnât too much of a thing for me, but what happens next is. It is because I need to kill, kill and kill again till the end until the leader shows up. But I wonât back down. It is the responsibility of a leader to bear the burden of this task.â
I look at the man as I drink from my glass.
If the conversation continues like this, I am sure Iâll end up killing him.
If a conversation doesnât work either, Iâll kill him too.
But a thousand thoughts run through my mind as I look at this assassin who came here to kill me.
âIn the olden days, the word assassin, or hitman, was considered similar to that of a slayer. It was recognized as a skill.â
âIs that so?â
âBut the world changed a lot because you people began to kill for the sake of money. The warriors and you bastards began to deviate far from each other as if standing on opposite ends of the world. Once upon a time, you were allies. However, it is now a world where assassins kill and are killed. What do you think?â
ââŚâ
âNo thoughts? The Low Down Sect isnât just a simple sect. What I do, as the leader of this place, is something that used to be done when warriors and assassins stood on the same ground. To some extent, I am also living like you.â
I pretend to slash open my head with my thumb.
âI am also good at killing. We are of the same foundations. We⌠What I am trying to say is, what do I do if I kill the leader of an assassin group? That would be the best move since I donât want people like you coming here. Still have no thoughts now?â
I take another sip.
The assassin clearly canât drink as he is nervous. It seems like my words donât make sense to him.
I sigh as I judge whether or not this guy or I am faster.
Of course, I am faster.
âUgh, you ordinary grunts are orphans. If you werenât an orphan, would you go around killing people and making more orphans? Once you get a family, your emotions change. They interfere with training, after all. Thatâs why your groups operate using orphans. It is, so people like you donât have the emotions to understand my words. How unfortunate.â
I point my finger at myself.
âIt is the right move for me to kill you. But you didnât die because of me, but because of your ancestors who created your group. You should understand that and die.â
âThat is the life of an assassin.â
âThe life of an assassin is to die while obeying orders?â
âYes.â
âThere is no need to live like that.â
âIâm already covered in blood. Who else can I blame?â
âSuch a crappy life. What I want to know is the main base of your organization. If you cannot speak, then draw your sword. Because of you, my walking time is getting longer.â
The assassinâs eye glances at the dagger on the table again.
ââŚâ
As those eyes move back to me, I pull out a black cat from under the table.
I do what I do.
Swish!
As the dagger cuts the table, it is clearly infused with qi. As the black cat bares its teeth, the situation feels like it has changed.
A solid red line is engraved on the assassinâs body that couldnât even react fast enough to draw a weapon. The body then becomes engulfed in flames as it burns without a sound.
Puak!
The assassin stands up in shock, but the legs that no longer have strength fall back as the upper body that had been cut falls down.
The sound of a body split in two fills the air with a thud.
I brush the blood away from the blade of the dagger and put down the black cat.
There is more shock than pain on the assassinâs face. In times like this, it is a mercy to kill without pain.
Rather than being angry at the dead, ill feelings towards the assassin organization well up in me.
As anger surges through me like a river, the errand boy runs to me with a shocked expression.
âLeader?â
âUh?â
âHe was an assassin?â
âYes.â
I see the errand boy approach the corpse and say.
âDonât touch it. He may have poison in his clothes or mouth. Even a corpse shouldnât be touched so carelessly.â
âYes!â
âI will send men to clean it up right away, so leave it like this for a bit.â
I then handed him some coins.
âDrinks and tables.â
âWhy are you giving me this much?â
âAn advance. Something like this will continue to happen often. For the time being, Iâll be coming by on my walks often..â
It is more comfortable to wander around in broad daylight instead of waiting to be ambushed to death in my sleep.
âAh, yes. Thank you. But how did you know? I just thought he was a bit strange because he didnât seem to be from around here.â
I tell him with a shocked expression.
âErrand boy, you didnât realize it despite looking at him?â
âI didnât know.â
I point to the assassin.
âThat face itself says that he is an assassin.â
âWhere? Is it written? He even has a narrow forehead.â
âYou need to know that before you try to enter the Black Rabbit Union. An ugly person, a sloppy person, a person who doesnât even know the basics of being a server.â
âAre you suddenly going to turn on me?â
âThat is what I do.â
The errand boy picks up the dagger that fell down and holds it to me.
âLeader, your dagger. I see it. You put the dagger on the table and finished him with a knife! Since you had placed the dagger there, it was some kind of psychological warfare, right?â
âIt was just out of habit.â
âUh?â
As I head back to the Black Rabbit Union, the errand boy asks.
âLeader, when will the men come? Will he be able to recognize this guyâs face too?â
âSure. If someone comes who doesnât seem to know, then tell me. Heâll be someone who neglected his training, so I will scold him.â
âI understand.â
The errand boy looks around the sharp-eyed men of the Black Rabbit Union and speaks.
âExcuse me.â
âWhat?â
âJust looking at this person, does he give off an assassin vibe? He looks normal to me.â
The person who receives the question looks at the errand boy as if he is a pathetic being.
âYou didnât realize it after seeing it? You didnât?â
â⌠uh?â
âCanât you tell with one look? Ack, so pathetic.â
âNo, when did you even see me to know I didnât recognize it? Iâm pathetic?â
The man suddenly speaks with a serious expression.
âYouâre not part of the Low Down Sect?â
âMe?â
âArenât you being paid?â
âYes.â
âThen you are in the Low Down Sect.â
âI-I understand.â
The man points to himself with his thumb.
âIt is me.â
âWhat?â
âI am Low Down Sectâs general, the main man, the man who laid the foundation for the sect from the early days with our leader. I am called Cha Sung-tae.â
The errand boy nods without looking too shocked.
âOh my, nice to meet you. So can the general tell a warrior or assassin from just a look at their face?â
Cha Sung-tae nods in response.
âThat is me.â
The server boy then thinks.
âThis scammer is trying to imitate our leader⌠when did he become an important person?â
Cha Sung-tae then says.
âWhy are you looking at me like that? You got something to say?â
âAh, no. Sorry. Because youâre saying the same thing the leader said, itâs hard for me to listen to it seriously.â
âThis bastardâŚâ
Cha Sung-tae, who is about to retort, stops as other sect members burst into laughter. Cha Sung-tae doesnât like this but decides to speak to the other men as he looks at the corpse on the plank.
âMy brothers, let us go to a secluded place and set it on fire.â
âYes.â
Cha Sung-tae then looks at the errand boy and asks.
âWhat is your name?â
âIt is Jang Sam.â
âItâs likely similar people would come here to check out what happened. Let them know what you saw at once.â
âYou mean report?â
âNo, just inform them. Do not do anything dangerous. You can recognize those with a similar atmosphere to this dead guy, right?â
âHow do we recognize them?â
âThe manâs eyes, did you see them?â
âYes.â
âTheir eyes feel like they are sunken in and have no emotions.â
âOh⌠that is true.â
âThat means he is an assassin.â
Jang Sam nods and then looks at Cha Sung-tae with respectful eyes.
âYou really are a general, then. Do come by and have a drink with me.â
Cha Sung-tae then heads off somewhere with his men.
âWhere will they do it?â
Jang Sam looks at Cha Sung-taeâs figure and crosses his arms.
âThat bastard might be smart or foolish and amazing. However, he is still mimicking our leader, that ignorant stinky bastard.â
Jang Sam sits outside the inn for the second day while he looks at the people crossing by him on the street.
âYou are an assassin, right? Not you. You live with dazzling eyesâŚâ
Jang Sam then involuntarily makes eye contact with a man, and his stomach suddenly churns. Many thoughts run through his mind instantly as he becomes unable to think.
ââŚâ
Any further moves, and he will die.
âHe is a real assassin.â
While wiping the table, he bows his head as the man who made eye contact with him approaches.
âLet me ask you something.â
âYes, sure.â
Jang Sam looks at the man and clasps his hand together politely. The man, who has a long thin sword around his waist, asks as he looks at the table and the ground.
âThe one who died here yesterday.â
âYes.â
âDied with a single hit?â
âYes.â
As soon as he makes eye contact again, he bows his head.
He learns today what it means to be normal-looking but scary.
He recognizes it once more with that thought and realizes he could die.
âWhere did he sit?â
Jang Sam holds out his head.
âNot there. Yes. Sit over there.â
The man, whose appearance screams assassin, sits down at the newly arranged table and speaks to Jang Sam.
âBring me some of the drinks the dead man had yesterday.â
âYes.â
At this time, someone approaches and whispers into the ears of the man who has just ordered alcohol.
âCaptain, you cannot do this.â
âGo away.â
As Jang Sam places snacks and alcohol on the table, the assassin looks at him and says.
âErrand boy.â
âYes.â
âDonât run. Stay calm. If you donât want to die, take that seat over there.â
Jang Sam has to simply sit where the assassin is pointing. The assassin then stares at the path that Lee Zaha always takes on his walks.
Jang Sam suddenly realizes that many people he has never seen before are on the street.
A man pulling a cart.
A young man selling rice cakes.
Some kind of generic thug.
All of these unfamiliar faces have something in common. Their eyes. In addition, many strange ones are also walking around.
He becomes filled with suspicion and certainty. He is no longer sure he can get out alive.
As Jang Sam looks around, the assassin gives him an early smile.
âYah, errand boy.â
âYes.â
âDo you want death right away?â
âI am sorry.â
âAn errand boy should act like an errand boy. Donât try to act up.â
âYes.â
Jang Sam realizes that what happened yesterday was just a prelude. Even the dead man didnât realize he would become a victim of this place. It is both scary and curious.
As he raises his head, he realizes what Kangho really is.
âThis is insane.â
In the meantime, the assassin who has come here openly says.
âLeader, this side.â
âAh, did you wait for long?â
âWe just arrived.â
Jang Sam lifts his head again. His leader, who often walks alone while eating dumplings, sits across the table without fear.
âJang Sam. Get me the usual.â
âI understand.â
After a few moments, he returns with the drink and places it on the table.
âI think a lot of jerks are around today.â
âItâs such a mess. They donât seem to have any info on you. This must have been their plan from the start.â
âI have more subordinates.â
âWhen is an assassination mission ever stopped? Even my death would bother me.â
âJang Sam, you head inside.â
Jang San then stands tall at those words.
âAh, yes.â
As he goes inside, he feels an ominous feeling. As he turns around, he sees that the assassin has grabbed a pair of chopsticks and thrown them.
However, the chopsticks flying through the air suddenly change directions and fall to the ground.
Puak!
Jang Sam looks at this in a daze and falls on his butt. The assassin had tried to kill using chopsticks and is now reaching towards the leader.
How the hell is this happening?
In an instant, the leader responds with something.
Kwaaang!
Jang Sam raises his chest and looks at the leader and the assassin. The assassin is pushed into three or four tables and pulls out his sword.
But the leader is just leisurely drinking his alcohol.
Jang Sam sees all of this and finds it impressive.