Chapter 482: We Are Not in Hell

TL: FoodieMonster007

After leaving the smithy, Myeongjin arrived at a marketplace a short distance from the Golden Dragon Clan. The entire town consisted of a single street lined with about twenty buildings on either side. It was a kind of resting place for travelers between towns.

Walking down the unlit street, Myeongjin arrived at a shabby tavern.

Inside the closed tavern, a man who appeared to be the owner was cleaning up, wiping a table with a cloth.

The owner was a truly ordinary man. His appearance, his height, his features. He had the kind of face one might encounter at least once in a lifetime. Whether you met him as a merchant, a waiter, or even a martial artist, you would think nothing of it and pass by. He had no moles, no scars, no distinguishing features.

As Myeongjin entered the tavern, the owner, who had been wiping the table, said something.

"We're closed for the night, customer."

"I'll just have a quick bite and one drink before I go."

The owner wore a troubled expression as he sized up the man's attire. Deciding he was not a martial artist, he relaxed his guard. "By the looks of it, you've skipped a meal. What were you doing that you couldn't even eat until this late at night?"

"I was struggling to make a living, and it just turned out that way."

The owner set down his cloth and gestured for him to come in.

"Thank you. I'll eat quickly and be on my way."

Myeongjin sat at a window seat, and the owner went to the kitchen to bring back a drink and a simple snack.

"It's cold, but it should be edible."

"Thank you."

After serving the drink and food, the owner picked up his cloth and went back to wiping the table he had been cleaning earlier. Then he asked abruptly.

"Anything feel unnatural?"

To the unexpected question, Myeongjin replied.

"It was perfect."

Putting down the cloth, the owner looked at Myeongjin. "It's been a while since I was a tavern owner. When was the last time?"

"Four years ago, when you killed the Justrice Trio."

"Ah, that's right."

Amazingly, this owner was none other than the Death King, the current leader of the Hell Mansion and the man who would one day become the king of assassins.

He was a man who had reached the pinnacle of being extraordinary within the ordinary. The Death King was someone who could imitate a hundred lives and become that life itself. Today, his life was that of a tavern owner.

The Death King resumed wiping the table with a swish. This way, that way. He was, surprisingly, studying and practicing how to appear natural.

"Just as you predicted, Geom Mugeuk came to find me."

"What was he like, seeing him in person?"

"He was as special as the rumors said."

"In what way?"

Myeongjin recalled the moment Geom Mugeuk had strode over, taken his hand, and pulled the handle. He remembered the clear, deep eyes that had looked at him then.

"Confident, cheerful, and free."

"The Young Cult Leader seems to have scored a lot of points with you."

The Death King beamed at Myeongjin.

One might wonder if a smile suited him, but the Death King was a man of many expressions. He was also rich in emotional expression. He could burst into tears at a sad sight, and he knew how to shout and rage like he was genuinely furious.

However, Myeongjin knew. All these emotions were practiced, fabricated.

There was only one word that could describe the man he knew as the Death King.

Void.

There was nothing inside him. Not a thirst for slaughter, nor a sordid greed. No, it was more accurate to say he was born with an inner self that could not be filled by anything.

He was like an ice cliff. Anything that entered his heart would slide right off, down into the endless darkness below.

That was why Myeongjin believed the man before him would one day become the king of assassins. Because in any situation, at any moment, he would not hesitate.

Myeongjin glanced around the inside of the tavern. Devices for ambushes were set up everywhere. The wooden container of chopsticks in the corner, the old beaded curtain at the kitchen entrance, the pig doll on the counter, the hole in the broken wall.

Countless other things were all devices meant to kill people. Since none of them held the metallic killing intent characteristic of such mechanisms, an ordinary person would never be able to tell. And most of them were things he himself had made.

"Are you really going to kill the Young Cult Leader?"

In truth, it was a question that didn't need to be asked. This tavern was not the only place where preparations were underway.

Myeongjin's gaze shifted to the building across the street. He could see inside through the window. Men were wiping blood off the walls. When a cart arrived, assassins began moving bodies from inside and stacking them onto it.

The person standing on the roof with his arms crossed was Hyeolra, the most successful rookie assassin in the Hell Mansion recently. In thirty-nine assassinations, he had not made a single mistake. The majority of the masters he had killed were names anyone would recognize. He was Myeongjin's direct junior, but his gaze was not at all that of someone looking at a senior.

Bodies were being carried out from another building as well. A masked man standing in front of that building gave a slight nod. He was not an assassin from the Hell Mansion. He was Karma, a top-tier assassin from Deathsky. The Death King had even borrowed the most skilled assassins from other organizations for this job.

In the building next to that, two assassins were seen talking while looking up at the sign of a cloth shop. They were the Black Shadow Assassin Duo, who, although not tied to any organization, had recently gained the greatest renown.

Today, this entire street had been massacred. Now, these top assassins would take their places.

An assassination mobilizing dozens of assassins, each a household name. Such a large-scale assassination was a first in the history of assassins. Regardless of the outcome, it was an event that would be forever recorded in their history.

"If we kill the Young Cult Leader, we'll all die too."

"Are you afraid of dying?"

Myeongjin said nothing, simply watching the cart loaded with corpses depart.

Just then, the Death King shouted.

"Wait!"

The Death King strode out onto the street and walked over to the cart piled with corpses. With an indifferent gaze, he grabbed the neck of one of the bodies.

At that moment, the corpse's eyes opened. He was not dead yet. It was a faint sign of life that the Death King had not missed, even from inside the distant building.

CRACK.

The sound of a neck bone snapping echoed through the quiet night street.

Coming back inside, the Death King continued the conversation as if nothing had happened. "If we die, won't it be nice to see all the people we've killed again? Don't you want to see them?"

After a brief pause, Myeongjin answered.

"I see them every day."

The Death King's eyes shone with a white light. The coldness of it sent a shiver down Myeongjin's neck.

"The decision is out of our hands. The higher-ups decided it. So, we just kill the Young Cult Leader and get out."

What on earth were the higher-ups thinking? Myeongjin said worriedly, "The Heavenly Demon won't stand still after losing his son. He'll chase us to the ends of hell."

"We are not in hell. We are here, in this world. If we choose to hide, he will never find us."

Yes, the Death King could do that. He was a man who could even live as one of his own pursuers without being discovered.

"Why me?"

Myeongjin's role was to bring the Young Cult Leader to this place. There were assassins who specialized in such tasks, luring the target to the killing ground. Yet the Death King had entrusted this job to Myeongjin.

An unexpected answer came from the Death King.

"The Young Cult Leader resembles you."

Myeongjin turned to look at the Death King.

"They say he's a demonic practitioner who imitates those from the orthodox sects, right?"

Myeongjin knew it was a rebuke, but he couldn't offer any rebuttal.

An assassin who doesn't kill children. Doesn't kill those who haven't learned martial arts. Doesn't kill those who aren't evil. These were all the conditions Myeongjin had set for his assassinations until now.

The Death King slowly walked over and stood next to Myeongjin.

"Shin."

"!"

It had been a long time since he had called him by that name.

"Stop with the hypocrisy. You'll only make it harder on yourself if you keep trying to find meaning in killing people for money."

Myeongjin said nothing. No, he couldn't.

"If we weren't friends, you'd already be dead."

He was now clinging, stripped bare, to the Death King's smooth ice cliff. If he tried to force himself off, all the skin on his body would be torn away. Even so, he was the only person the Death King had ever allowed on that cliff.

"I'll be going now. It probably won't be easy to bring him here."

At Myeongjin's farewell, the Death King began wiping the table with the cloth again.

"Is killing him supposed to be easy?"

Myeongjin turned and walked out of the tavern. The gazes of the assassins standing around naturally focused on him.

From the opposite building, Hyeolra spoke to the Death King. "How much is the bounty to kill an assassin who's grown tired of killing?"

He was talking about Myeongjin. Rumors had been circulating recently that Myeongjin was avoiding contracts. There were even rumors that he wanted to retire.

The Death King stopped wiping and answered softly. "An assassin who hates killing people… isn't that person already dead?"

Hyeolra laughed out loud at the Death King's reply.

It was at that very moment.

WHOOOOSH!

With an outstretched hand, the Death King instantly pulled Hyeolra from the roof of the opposite building. It was a divine feat backed by immense inner qi.

Even as the Death King gripped his neck, Hyeolra did not dare to resist.

"P-please, spare me!"

Despite his plea, the Death King unhesitatingly pulled out a dagger and sliced off his tongue.

SPLURT!

Blood from the severed tongue sprayed in all directions. Hyeolra dared not scream and staunched the bleeding himself. The assassins from the Hell Mansion, as well as those from other organizations, held their breath.

The gazes of Myeongjin and the Death King met on the street.

Myeongjin turned and walked away without a word, and the Death King looked for a rag.

"Our Young Cult Leader likes to drink in shabby taverns."

The Death King squatted on the floor and began to wipe up the blood with the rag.

"We should send him off in a place he likes."

When Geom Mugeuk returned to his residence, Geum Arin was waiting for him.

"Where on earth have you been so late at night?"

She had rushed over after hearing an assassin had entered Geom Mugeuk's residence, only to find he was out. She came back again and again, only to finally meet him this late at night.

"I was just about to have the highest bounty in murim history placed on my head."

Geum Arin's expression asked what he meant. I didn't come and go all day to hear this kind of nonsense!

"Are you hurt anywhere from fighting the assassins?"

"Nope. They must have sent assassins cheaper than my bounty."

His unchanging jokes seemed to indicate he was fine.

"Who was behind it?" she asked.

Geom Mugeuk did not tell her the truth. "I don't know. I'm a man with many enemies."

Geum Arin wondered if the client might be her own family. Even with many enemies, would they really ambush him here in the Golden Dragon Clan?

"Don't die. You have to keep your promise to me, right?"

As she reminded him of his promise to make her the successor, Geom Mugeuk asked abruptly.

"Can you kill your Orabeoni?"

"!"

Geum Arin was flustered by the sudden question.

"Do you think your Orabeoni will give up the successor position easily? If they risk their lives to keep that position, can you take those lives? That's what I'm asking."

It would be a lie to say she had never thought about it. But now that Geom Mugeuk asked, an answer did not come easily. Neither "I can't" nor "I can."

After a long moment, she spoke.

"I… I'm not sure."

With her head bowed, she did not see Geom Mugeuk's faint smile. She did not know that because she had answered, "I'm not sure," Geom Mugeuk considered her the best of the three siblings.

"Think about it seriously."

It was time for her to look at the ground she stood on, not the stars. Whether that ground would be solid, a sewer, or a thousand-foot cliff would likely depend on her choice and her fate.

Geom Mugeuk sent her away and stood in the courtyard for a moment, looking up at the night sky.

Then, Hwi's voice came from behind him. "You missed a chance to leave your name in murim history."

He was referring to the story about the bounty from earlier.

Geom Mugeuk smiled and replied, "I may be an incarnation of greed for fame as much as for wealth, but I'll pass on being in the history of assassins."

Hwi smiled and moved to Geom Mugeuk's side.

"The ones behind this are assassins."

Geom Mugeuk let Hwi know that his suspicion had become a certainty. This was something Hwi needed to know before his father, who was likely asleep. As expected, once it was confirmed to be assassins, a fierce light flared in Hwi's eyes before vanishing.

"The threat to put a bounty on me didn't sound like a mere joke. If they're going to target someone, it'll probably be me."

They would not dare think of assassinating his father.

"You asked me to tell you about assassins, didn't you?"

He had something important to tell Geom Mugeuk.

"What comes to mind when you think of an assassin?"

Geom Mugeuk answered without hesitation, saying whatever came to mind. "Surprise attacks, ambushes, cowardice, suicide, poison, vicious, cheap, the biggest bounty in history, a shame I couldn't get it. Things like that."

Hwi smiled and answered the same question. "When I think of assassins, these are the things that come to mind."

And they were nothing among the things Geom Mugeuk had mentioned.

"Patience, planning, investigation, preparation, study."

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

"We tend to think of assassins as impulsive and emotional, but that's not true at all. No one is more rational and methodical than an assassin. They are people who endure, study, and prepare. That's how they overcome differences in skill."

The core of what Hwi wanted to say was this.

"They've probably finished a complete investigation of you, Young Cult Leader. Your personality, what you like, how you react in certain situations, and what you say in others. What food you like and who you like. They might know you better than you know yourself."

Listening to his words, a thought suddenly occurred to Geom Mugeuk. A person who doesn't know themself well would probably be killed more easily by an assassin.

"All of an assassin's investigation and preparation is for this one moment."

"What moment is that?"

The moment everyone knows but forgets for an instant.

"The moment you let your guard down."

Hwi's eyes gleamed as he asked calmly.

"Young Cult Leader, when is the moment you are most careless?"