Chapter 176
Chapter 176
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 176
Chapter Title: Unbelievable Lawlessness (1)
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Kaifeng was home to the Beggars' Sect headquarters. But beggars weren't particularly conspicuous there. You caught glimpses of them here and there, yet it didn't feel like they outnumbered those in other cities.
"First time in Kaifeng, but it really does feel like a tiger's den."
Hanbi said, narrowing his eyes.
"They're probably eavesdropping on that very comment right now."
"You think so? I figured I'd been careful enough..."
Hanbi glanced around once more.
Crowds of people bustled by, but no one paid them any mind.
Hanbi was confident he'd taken every precaution.
Vanguard chuckled softly.
"Around the Beggars' Sect, never say 'careful enough.' That's the key to a long life."
"Vanguard, when have you ever crossed them?"
"More times than I can count—some knowingly, some not."
"I have no idea what you're talking about..."
"Just stay cautious, no matter what. What else can we do?"
"You're no fun, Vanguard..."
With that, the two fell silent.
The Beggars' Sect turf was dazzling. Two- and three-story pavilions lined the streets, shops brimmed with goods, and passersby brimmed with vibrant energy.
There wasn't a beggar in sight.
But it was all Beggars' Sect territory. Hanbi was an assassin himself—a top-notch one. He'd sensed cold stares piercing from every direction long ago.
"Can we find Papa?"
Four Thousand Four asked.
He'd just uttered a dangerously specific name: Papa, a real person. If the Beggars' Sect overheard, they'd instantly think of Iron Ball Papa from the Heavenly Annihilation Division and realize she was hiding in Kaifeng.
Yet Vanguard didn't scold him.
Four Thousand Four's ears were sharper than his eyes.
Most people relied on their sight for about eighty percent of perception. The rest came from sound, smell, taste, and touch.
For Four Thousand Four, hearing probably accounted for over eighty percent.
He didn't just see—he listened. He confirmed no disruptions in the space where sound waves traveled. That's why it was safe when he spoke.
Vanguard replied casually.
"Aren't we looking right now?"
"So it's not a fixed spot—we have to hunt around?"
"Roots severed, he's drifting like duckweed for now. He'll wander until he finds solid ground to plant himself."
"I see."
"Found it."
Vanguard's eyes gleamed.
He paused in front of a teaware shop, fiddling with a set.
He toyed with a lotus-shaped saucer for teacups, turning it this way and that.
"Hey! You buying that or what?"
"Just deciding."
"Can't you just look? No need to paw at it!"
"Nonsense! A vessel's feel in the hand is everything. You selling this or not?"
"Oh! You want it?"
"Still deciding. Gotta feel it more to know."
"Scram! Not selling to you. Trip over a rock on your way out!"
The shopkeeper grumbled.
"Fine, I'm going. Haha! Let's grab some fine tea elsewhere. Hahaha!"
Vanguard laughed heartily.
Their banter hid signals from the Heavenly Annihilation Division's assassin network.
Not Division code—assassin-exclusive lingo.
Field assassins faced situations they couldn't report to HQ, things that might brand them traitors.
No intent to betray, but sometimes you had to act behind their backs.
Thus, assassin-only codes were born.
There was also an off-the-books group, funded by assassins pooling resources. Not a formal outfit, but it supported their kind—like the teaware shop just now.
HQ knew about them, of course. But they turned a blind eye. Assassins created it out of dire need.
Vanguard spoke up.
"Fancy a woman tonight?"
"...?"
"Gotta soothe the old boy. Got any coin?"
"A bit."
Hanbi patted his chest.
City walls loomed.
Massive stone heaps encircled the area.
The rock the shopkeeper mentioned.
In code, "rock" meant city walls. "Trip over it" signaled to skirt them, not climb over.
Easy once you knew.
"Tails?"
Vanguard asked.
"Couple of 'em?"
"Impressive. I missed them."
"Not following—just watching from the walls."
"Got it."
Vanguard nodded.
"This must be it."
Hanbi nodded toward a shabby shack out of the corner of his eye.
A narrow path wound along the walls, barely wide enough for one. Shanties evoking slums lined it.
The shack district reeked of powder and booze.
A red-light alley where a few coins loosened clothes. Not quite—red-light districts had proper houses for aging courtesans.
"Iron Ball Papa hates dives like this. Must be hell for her day to day."
Vanguard eyed the shack sidelong too.
Nothing special about the one they eyed. Booze and powder scents wafted out. But a cane—used by elders for support—leaned by the door.
Not always there.
Vanguard's "feel in the hand" was Iron Ball Papa's code.
The shop relayed it to her upon hearing, and she set out the cane.
Even after confirming, Vanguard didn't enter. He poked around other shacks, looping the alley.
"Safehouses always have two doors. We take the back."
No powder or booze here.
Iron Ball Papa's underground lair shunned all scents, deep and silent. Courtesans above, but her chamber below heard nothing.
"Sorry we dragged you into this."
Vanguard apologized first.
"Kekeke! How's it your fault? Blame that one."
Iron Ball Papa cackled at Four Thousand Four.
"This punk's face is blooming, while you two look shriveled. Been suffering trailing him, eh?"
She poured tea as she spoke.
A clear tea aroma filled the chamber. Like facing a lotus amid a corrupt city.
Iron Ball Papa welcomed Vanguard and Four Thousand Four warmly.
Now it hit him... She didn't fit the Heavenly Annihilation Division. She'd suit a leisurely life in the countryside better.
Yet she worked for assassins.
Not the Division—for assassins, to save even one more life.
Helping killers?
She knew Division assassins weren't bloodthirsty. Forced into the life by circumstance, pitiable souls.
Some cursed her, some didn't. To assassins, she was like a mother.
"What brings you here? You're all fugitives from the Division, right?"
"HQ'll send word."
"Here?"
"Yes."
Four Thousand Four answered calmly.
"What kind? They won't assign hits, surely."
"A hit. Assassination orders."
"What the hell's this guy?"
Iron Ball Papa asked Vanguard.
"Don't bother understanding. Just think 'that's him' and move on. Easier that way."
"Kek! Kekeke! Alright, let's see. Will HQ task fugitives? Kekeke! This'll be good..."
"Can you get me weapons?"
Four Thousand Four said.
Long ago... the day he escaped the Nineteen Hells... everyone took arms from her armory. But he skipped specials. Some items saved his life, true.
"Armory's always stocked. But nothing suited for you... Need something specific?"
"Weapons fit for Shadowless Steps."
"Ah, right—you're Shadowless. Show me this Shadowless. Curious what..."
Iron Ball Papa trailed off, eyes widening.
Shh!
Something whooshed past. Precisely, grazed her ear.
She blinked and turned.
On the back wall... a chopstick quivered in the dirt.
She hadn't seen it fly. By the time alarm hit—"Ah!"—it had passed her ear. If aimed to kill, a hole would be in her forehead now.
"Hmph... You've become a ghost."
"Told you. Just accept 'he's that guy'."
Vanguard snickered.
Iron Ball Papa swept the chamber, leading Four Thousand Four to another.
The armory! Piled with weapons!
Dozens of assassin cells, 150 killers, got her aid here—weapons, supplies, orders.
"Doubt there's anything for me. Browse—if nothing catches your eye, say so. I'll source it."
"Thanks."
"At your level, do you even need weapons...?"
Iron Ball Papa eyed Four Thousand Four.
"This Shadowless can't beat Crescent Moon. Probably not even Mian."
"Heard you pinned Mian once."
"Luck. Fight him a hundred times now, no luck comes."
"Fair. Look around. Oh—Fox showed up. Let him in?"
"Your call, Vanguard."
"Asked him—he says ask you. Annoying old bat? In or out!"
Four Thousand Four paused.
Once, no hesitation... Now, even meeting Fox weighed on him.
"Better not."
He finally replied.
"Fox has a death mark. Don't know details, but they won't let him go. We're marked anyway... But Fox too..."
"Not your worry."
"...?"
"Think Fox doesn't know? Came anyway—has his reasons. Fine, your call. Keeping him out."
"Huh?"
"Cold bastard. Long trip—feed him at least before sending off."
Iron Ball Papa shook her head as she headed out.