Chapter 489: When Someone Who Knows How to Protect Makes Up Their Mind
Chapter 489: When Someone Who Knows How to Protect Makes Up Their Mind
Myeong Sin swung his daggers, lost in a trance-like state of flow.
Sparks erupted as his daggers collided with the Murder King’s blades, steel screaming against steel. It was a clash between the number one and number two of the Underworld—a duel where a single lapse in concentration meant instant death.
The colliding blades moved with such blinding speed they were nearly invisible to the naked eye. Myeong Sin had sparred lightly with the Murder King in the past, but this was his first true life-and-death struggle against the man.
Swish, swish, swish, swish!
The daggers thrust at one another with lethal precision.
Their footwork was just as rapid, a dazzling display of movement. Myeong Sin pushed his lightness technique to its absolute limit, swaying his upper body like a reed in the wind to evade the incoming strikes. The daggers rang with a clear chime when they met head-on and screeched with the sound of grinding iron when they slid against one another.
‘He’s strong!’
Myeong Sin’s hands felt the truth before his mind or instincts could even process it. There was a terrifying sense of composure in the Murder King’s heavy strikes. In contrast, Myeong Sin was pouring every ounce of his soul into the fight.
Despite the clear gap in skill, the only reason he maintained an equal footing was sheer momentum. Myeong Sin had resolved himself for a final, desperate struggle. His aura—that of a man prepared for death—narrowly compensated for the difference in their abilities.
In an instant, over a hundred exchanges passed.
Clang!
With one particularly violent collision, the two men leaped backward. They now stood on the roof of a building across from the tavern.
Myeong Sin’s breathing was ragged, his lungs burning, but the Murder King remained eerily calm. This was the exact measure of the chasm between them.
‘But that’s fine.’
Because he was prepared to die, Myeong Sin felt no fear. Whenever he had set out on an assassination in the past, he used to imagine the moment he might fail. Naturally, a specific scene would always come to mind: martial artists rummaging through his cold corpse, trying to figure out which organization the assassin belonged to. Since no one buries an assassin, they would dump him in a wasteland. Then, the wolves would prowl over to tear at his remains.
Myeong Sin had always believed that was how an assassin’s life was meant to end. But to die fighting the Murder King?
‘This is a decent enough death.’
At that moment, the Murder King was staring at the tavern across the street. Through the shattered windows, glimpses of the carnage raging inside were visible.
“The Young Cult Leader isn't coming out of there alive,” Myeong Sin said calmly.
“The Young Cult Leader will survive,” the Murder King countered.
Myeong Sin, who had always used respectful language toward his leader, now spoke informally, but the Murder King didn't seem to care.
“If he does, it means all the traps you set have become useless.”
Myeong Sin knew that was why the Murder King had lured him outside.
“I appreciate the trust, but...”
There were three reasons why Myeong Sin had stepped out even though he knew the Murder King's intent. First...
“It won’t matter. Not against that Young Cult Leader.”
He had absolute faith in Geom Mu-geuk. It was a conclusion drawn from combining the data he had analyzed with the man he had seen in person. Though he had only known him for a few days, Mu-geuk had influenced him more than anyone he had ever met. He felt as though he needed to rewrite the report on the man entirely. Of course, he would never get the chance to do that now.
The second reason was that if he stayed in the tavern, the Murder King would stay too. That would make the fight inside even more difficult for Mu-geuk. He preferred to stall the Murder King out here, hoping Geom Mu-geuk would finish off the others and emerge. It was a choice he couldn't have made without trusting Mu-geuk.
And the final reason was that he wanted to kill the Murder King himself. Even knowing it was no easy feat, he had a burning desire to settle this grudge with his own hands.
Right then—
Shuck!
Myeong Sin dodged a hidden weapon thrown from behind. It wasn't a lethal shot, but a projectile meant to draw his attention.
A man was now standing on the roof of the adjacent building. It was Blood Rakshasa—the man whose tongue the Murder King had cut out earlier for mocking Myeong Sin. Through his twisted expression and bloodshot eyes, Blood Rakshasa pleaded with the Murder King. He wanted Myeong Sin left to him. The hatred in his gaze made it clear he blamed Myeong Sin for the loss of his tongue.
The Murder King looked back and forth between Myeong Sin and Blood Rakshasa before nodding his consent.
Normally, Blood Rakshasa would have provoked Myeong Sin with all sorts of mockery, but now he couldn't utter a single word. He swung his sword and charged.
Myeong Sin did not retreat, swinging his daggers to meet him.
Assassins are those who prepare and plan to kill their targets in the dark. They should strike effortlessly when the opponent’s guard is at its lowest and then vanish. Because of this, there are things an assassin should never have to do.
An assassin shouldn't have to rely on footwork. An assassin shouldn't have to rely on martial arts.
Having to use those meant the preparation for the kill was insufficient. Using footwork and martial arts was something reserved for when an assassination failed. Therefore, this blatant confrontation was less a battle between assassins and more a fight between martial artists.
It was a battle of fundamentals. A clash of martial arts, hidden weapon techniques, and lightness skills.
Swish!
The incoming sword grazed Myeong Sin’s face. Even as he felt the cold chill of the blade against his skin, Myeong Sin lunged forward with his daggers. Blood Rakshasa twisted his body to evade and redirected his sword mid-thrust.
The sword that had passed Myeong Sin’s face changed direction to slash downward, but Myeong Sin had already lowered his stance, stabbing toward Blood Rakshasa’s abdomen.
Clang, clang, clang!
Blood Rakshasa’s sword shifted again, parrying the attack. As expected of assassins representing the Underworld, their battle was spectacular. Their movements were like the wind, and their attacks were as fierce as predatory beasts. The sound of clashing steel continued in short, sharp bursts.
However, the sword gradually began to be pushed back by the daggers. Because he had been more successful as an assassin lately, Blood Rakshasa had been confident he could beat Myeong Sin. Unfortunately for him, this wasn't a battle of assassination, but a battle of martial prowess—and he was losing in the fundamentals.
‘Damn it! I will never lose to the likes of you!’
As he was pushed back further, Blood Rakshasa’s movements grew frantic.
Stab!
Blood sprayed from Blood Rakshasa’s shoulder. He had considered himself the true number two, but the gap in skill between the two men was even wider than the loss of his tongue.
Blood Rakshasa tried to unleash a secret trump card, but Myeong Sin did not miss the momentary opening that occurred when executing a major technique.
Stab! Stab! Stab!
Myeong Sin’s daggers rapidly pierced Blood Rakshasa’s chest in succession.
“Guh... ack.”
Blood Rakshasa vomited a mouthful of gore. His gaze turned toward the Murder King. His eyes were filled with resentment, asking why he wasn't helping, but the Murder King couldn't have helped even if he wanted to.
Ever since the fight with Myeong Sin began, the Murder King had been sensing Hwi’s presence. The moment he showed a weakness, Hwi would not miss the chance to deliver a fatal blow.
The Guard of the Cult Leader.
The reason the Murder King hadn't killed Myeong Sin earlier was also because of Hwi.
‘If I try to kill him recklessly, I’ll die too.’
The opponent was a master capable of turning that instinctive sense of crisis into reality.
It was then.
Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop!
Holes were punched through the walls of the tavern across the street. It was clear that Soul-Killing Thunders had detonated. The thick scent of blood wafted from the holes. It was obvious a fierce battle was continuing inside.
Myeong Sin caught his breath in front of Blood Rakshasa’s corpse. He knew why the Murder King hadn't intervened. He felt Hwi protecting him. Because of that, he couldn't help but think of Geom Mu-geuk.
‘You really are something!’
Mu-geuk hadn't just been paying lip service when he called him a friend or promised to save him.
The Murder King stared at the tavern in silence before suddenly speaking. “The target of your revenge shouldn't be me, but the person who put out the contract.”
“That’s true,” Myeong Sin admitted readily.
“Then why?”
Myeong Sin knew the words left unsaid behind the Murder King’s question: Why did you betray me?
Myeong Sin knew the Murder King was genuinely curious. That was why he wasn't angry. That was just the kind of person the Murder King was.
I saved him and raised him to be an assassin, so why is he betraying me instead of being grateful?
He was a man who could ask such a thing. He could not understand the complex and vast range of human emotions.
“Then why did you kill your father?” Myeong Sin countered.
Killing intent radiated from the Murder King’s clear eyes. But Myeong Sin didn't care at all. In fact, he welcomed it. In a fight between masters, the more the opponent was consumed by anger, the more advantageous it became.
“Doesn't feel good to hear that, does it? Just as you don't think you betrayed your father, I feel the same.”
The Murder King stared at him wordlessly. Myeong Sin thought that perhaps the reason he had been held captive by the Murder King for so long was because of those transparent eyes. A sense of purity rather than evil. He had unconsciously perceived him that way. Sometimes, the impression given by one’s appearance preceded everything else.
The Murder King began to walk slowly toward him. Myeong Sin read the absolute will to kill in his eyes. He flicked Blood Rakshasa’s blood off his daggers and walked forward to meet him.
If he wanted to stall for time, he could have induced more conversation, but he didn't. This revenge belonged to him, not Geom Mu-geuk.
‘I’ll fight with everything I have.’
The two clashed once more.
Clang, clang, clang, clang!
Expected trajectories mixed with the unexpected. Attacks followed that had to be blocked by skill and instinct alike. His arms felt like they were going to fall off as he was overpowered by internal energy, but Myeong Sin fought through gritted teeth.
While there is a terror unique to the number two, the clear difference in skill was not something that could be overcome by sheer will alone.
Slash!
Blood sprayed from Myeong Sin’s arm.
Swish!
Just as the following attack was about to pierce Myeong Sin’s heart—
Clang!
A single sword knocked the Murder King’s dagger aside. The person who parried the blade was Hwi, who had revealed himself from the shadows.
The moment the Murder King tried to stab Myeong Sin was an opportunity to attack him directly. However, since Myeong Sin would have certainly died in that moment, Hwi chose to protect him instead.
Myeong Sin quickly pressed his pressure points to stop the bleeding and said, “I didn't want to be indebted to you. Thank you.”
But Hwi didn't answer. He was only protecting Myeong Sin because it was the Young Cult Leader’s order; he held no personal feelings for the assassin.
Myeong Sin tried to stand up and fight again. Then, a voice drifted from behind.
“Just how much did you prepare? I almost died in there!”
Geom Mu-geuk was walking out of the tavern.
The Murder King could not hide his shock. He hadn't expected Mu-geuk to clear the tavern and emerge so quickly. Furthermore, Mu-geuk appeared perfectly fine, without so much as a scratch.
In truth, Myeong Sin was just as surprised. Suppressing his shock, Myeong Sin asked, “How were the preparations? I made most of them myself.”
“If I’d known you made them, I wouldn't have asked Uncle Hwi to save your life.”
Myeong Sin could feel it. Mu-geuk wasn't scolding him; he was praising the excellence of the traps he had created. How many people in the Murim could joke with such composure in this situation? After escaping that tavern of death, one might be expected to show at least a hint of arrogance. Instead, he was lifting his opponent up. He was showing what true self-esteem looked like.
‘I’ve lost.’
A sense of respect for Geom Mu-geuk welled up within him. Respect for such a young man? But he wasn't ashamed at all. The man was also the benefactor who had saved his life.
“Are you badly hurt?”
At Mu-geuk’s question, Myeong Sin knew it was time to hand this fight over to them. He didn't insist on fighting to the end. As much as it pained him, he knew it was impossible for him to kill the Murder King with his current strength. Stubbornness would only be a burden to Hwi and Mu-geuk. The Murder King was far stronger than he had anticipated.
Myeong Sin leaped down from the roof.
“It’s hard to fight with a body that’s been doing nothing but hammering at a forge. I’ll rest for a bit, so you take over.”
Geom Mu-geuk then leaped up to the spot where Myeong Sin had been standing.
“Thank you, Uncle.”
It was a word of gratitude to Hwi for successfully carrying out the request to protect Myeong Sin. As Mu-geuk stood behind him, Hwi’s expression changed. Now that the person he had to protect was Mu-geuk, he became a completely different man. Escort warriors were people who changed entirely depending on who stood at their back.
Looking at Hwi’s back, Mu-geuk felt it. Hwi was longing for this fight with the Murder King. This battle was an inevitability created by two opposing destinies.
‘If Uncle Hwi has to fight...’
There was something Mu-geuk could do to help him. Something he was just as good at as swordsmanship.
Mu-geuk asked Myeong Sin, who was standing below the roof, “Do you know why your leader joined hands with them?”
“I don't. Do you?”
“They must have made him an offer. That they would make him the king of all assassins in the world. That they would make him the ruler of the night.”
Myeong Sin thought that might indeed be the case. The man was truly obsessed with the act of killing. Only such a condition would have worked on him.
“It sounds plausible, but in the end, doesn't it just mean they’ll use him as a blade?”
Seeing the Murder King’s transparent eyes flicker, Mu-geuk began to provoke him in earnest.
“Where is there a ruler who takes orders from someone else? A ruler of the night who bows his head to the ruler of the day? That’s pathetic. Ruler, my foot! You’re nothing more than a tool.”
Mu-geuk spat out one provocation after another. He was trying to shake the Murder King’s composure before the fight.
“He only knew how to imitate someone else’s life; he never knew what kind of life he should live for himself...”
It was then.
Clang!
Two sword lines appeared and vanished simultaneously. One sword line had tried to bisect Mu-geuk’s body, and the other had appeared to block the incoming strike.
Hwi had parried the Murder King’s attack. It wasn't an attack meant to kill Mu-geuk, but a warning strike that said, ‘Shut your mouth!’
Of course, Mu-geuk wouldn't be himself if he shut up because of that. As if certain Hwi would block any attack, Mu-geuk continued to provoke the Murder King with a relaxed face. This time, he used Myeong Sin to do it.
“Do you know why that man wants to break your principles?”
Myeong Sin was genuinely curious about this as well. “Why is that?”
“Because he’s jealous. He, the number one, commits murders without any principles, while you, the number two, hold onto yours...”
Boom, boom, boom, boom!
Soul-Killing Thunders were unleashed from the Murder King’s sleeves. They were far more powerful than the ones used by the assassins in the tavern.
But an even more surprising sight unfolded. Hwi’s sword spun like a windmill, knocking away every single projectile.
Myeong Sin was stunned. He couldn't have imagined parrying the shards of a Soul-Killing Thunder from that distance.
‘The Guard of the Cult Leader... he’s far stronger than I thought.’
Hwi and the Murder King stared at each other. No other reason was needed for this fight. They were the beings who loathed each other most. A battle between the ultimate opposites of the Murim.
Hwi, who was always taciturn, finally spoke.
“Assassins look down on guards. They think we only know how to protect with stubborn stupidity. So, today, I intend to teach that man a lesson.”
That the guard and the assassin were, in the end, two sides of the same coin.
“I will show him exactly how well a man who knows how to protect can kill—once he sets his mind to it.”