Chapter 38
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: The Straggler (3)
Hanbi was said to be a top-grade martial artist in the Im-in Martial Camp.
His martial prowess was quite formidable. If it came down purely to fighting skill, he could hold his own against anyone. In a brawl at the gambling tables, he'd rank among the top tier.
But... he looked to be in trouble.
Hanbi was surrounded by far too many foes. And among them were some who were overwhelmingly powerful, strong enough to suffocate him.
Hanbi, could you escape this predicament too?
It wasn't just Vanguard who had driven One-Four-Six to their deaths. Circumstances had simply led to their demise. They'd likely found themselves in situations like this one time and again.
"Huff! Huff! Huff!"
He ran on, gasping for breath.
Those fighting were fighting, and those putting out the fire had to keep hauling water without rest.
Suddenly, his gaze met Hanbi's.
A flicker of surprise crossed Hanbi's eyes. But it vanished even faster than it had appeared, unnoticed even by the Euldowon expert facing him.
"Huff! Huff! Huff! Huff!"
He ran on, gasping for breath.
"Hey! Hurry! Hurry! Damn it, the fire's not dying down—it's spreading more! Bring water, quick!"
Splash!
He dumped the water he'd carried straight into the sea of flames.
Of course, it was like pouring a ladle into flowing lava. Even with two or three hundred people splashing water, the blaze refused to yield, spreading relentlessly.
The commotion had broken out in two places.
First to the east, then shortly after, a similar uproar to the west.
East was Hanbi. West was Jaja.
Both Hanbi and Jaja had been detected early. And both were in the same dire straits.
There were simply too many people gathered at the Merchant Guest Manor for just a few to break through. And this was a public assassination to boot. Whoever issued this mission had lost their mind completely.
Shing!
He closed his eyes. Focused all his senses on his ears. And listened.
A cacophony of sounds assaulted him. Like standing in the middle of a marketplace... so chaotic it was nearly impossible to concentrate.
Yet he sifted through it for the sound he sought.
The "two ears" honed in the Nineteen Hells proved immensely useful here.
In truth, he had a technique for focusing even in such moments.
Called Opening the Senses to Full Emptiness... from the Body Movement chapter of the Secret Code, of course. What to call it? A code of conduct for killers, perhaps?
Killing was a sin. It could never feel natural.
Even the steeliest heart tenses at the moment of the act.
Once killing becomes habitual, emotions can dry up. Lives start seeming as worthless as flies. Most inmates in the Nineteen Hells had reached that dehumanized state.
The Secret Code warned against letting emotions wither to that degree, even when killing.
Otherwise, the act consumes the person.
You kill people, not let killing numb you emotionlessly.
Every kill is the same, so why distinguish?
To grant the most painless death. If karma demands killing, it's inevitable. But you still owe the easiest passing possible.
The Secret Code's words were incomprehensible to ordinary folk.
Anyway, it contained this technique: Opening the Senses to Full Emptiness.
A killer must fling wide all bodily senses. To fully absorb the victim's pain. With senses fully open, like boundless emptiness, the dying one's agony reads clear as day.
Only then does the killing blow emerge.
Reading their pain fully reveals how to end it without suffering.
He didn't yet grasp this truth fully.
But he'd tried. Before each kill, he'd striven to open his senses wide.
How does one open the senses?
By releasing all tension. Yes. Not a single fiber of strain allowed.
Killers tense right before the strike. Instinctively.
Opening the senses demands letting go of that tension entirely.
Practicing it yields unexpected benefits.
Danger registers faster than ever.
Someone approaches. A presence stirs. Killing this one exposes me. And so on.
So he'd always tried to maintain it.
Gaining his "two ears" in the Nineteen Hells was thanks to this. Hearing an ant's crawl came from sustaining Full Emptiness in utter silence.
Opening the Senses is the two ears, and the two ears are Opening the Senses.
Listen with both ears.
The sound he sought was from the main quarters: the target's movements.
What noises from the main building? What's happening? Vanguard was the final closer on the mission. Had he infiltrated safely? Had he slain the Merchant Guest and completed it?
He strained his ears.
Yet anxiety gnawed. Far quieter than expected. Then a ominous "crash and bang!"
'It's failed!'
He sensed mission failure instantly.
Success would've sounded utterly different.
Bursting through a door like that... even charitably, it screamed failure.
Whoooosh! Pfft!
Red smoke bloomed against the white sky.
Withdrawal signal.
'Damn it! Withdraw where?!'
He chuckled bitterly.
Hanbi couldn't escape. Too many warriors around him. Too strong.
Jaja was in the same boat.
Vanguard even less so. He didn't know details, but being flung out like that meant he was cornered.
Signal fired, but no one could withdraw.
He could. No one at the Merchant Guest Manor watched him. Undetected so far, confident slipping out quietly.
In the end, Vanguard's signal was for him.
"Heh heh heh!"
He snickered dryly.
He could slip out now... but that wasn't best.
Vanguard dead, and you survived? In that case, dying's the optimal play.
Right. To claim you'd given your all here, you'd have to die.
Withdraw on signal, and you'd bear the stain of half-hearted effort. Heavenly Annihilation Division would act as the letter prescribed.
He sprang up.
Situation critical—no time to hesitate.
Sinwol Gate over Euldowon!
Euldowon handled the outer quarters; Sinwol guarded the inner. Target: Sinwol Gate.
No eyes on him outside.
Storehouse ablaze, dozens rushing water—no attention there.
But inner quarters? Instant scrutiny.
'Two!'
He detected two inside the firmly shut inner gate.
His two ears served perfectly. The pair by the door chatted idly, eyeing the smoke wafting in the air.
"That's the escape signal. Bet a bottle of liquor."
"You're on. I say no escape—they get slaughtered. One bottle."
"Same difference!"
"You say escape, I say no."
"No such thing! I said it's the signal, not that they can escape!"
Tap tap tap!
He rapped on the inner gate.
"Who's there!"
The chatting warriors barked instantly.
"They say the fire might spread inside, so move the oil from the inner storehouse."
He spoke hurriedly, urgently.
"Doesn't look like it'll reach here."
"Outer Chief Manager's direct order, sir. Please understand my position..."
"Fine. Come in!"
Creeak!
The gate opened.
He bowed low the instant it did.
"Thank you, sir."
"Just hurry and f—"
The warrior didn't finish, collapsing limply.
"Urk!"
The other tensed, but too late.
He crumpled too, clueless to the end.
Four Thousand Four stood motionless even after both fell. Frozen like a statue, eyes wide and alert on the bodies. Then,
Swish! Swish!
Two warriors descended with eerie lightness.
'One more—five total!'
He didn't twitch. Gate ajar, servant-clad, empty-handed—no staff.
Swish!
The newcomers split roles swiftly. One checked the fallen; the other drew steel on the servant outside.
Thud!
The checker convulsed briefly, then collapsed silently.
"Urk! Poison!"
The guard leaped back two paces.
"No, no, no! Not me! I didn't do it! I swear, nothing!"
He flailed his hands in denial.
Thud!
The retreating warrior tilted his head left, as if clearing water from his ear. Halfway through, he toppled.
The servant stood stock-still. Four down.
"Uh... uh!"
The servant trembled, speechless in shock.
Unbelievable he'd done anything. His face paled with terror.
Swish!
Another warrior appeared from afar.
'Good—fifth and last!'
Before the gate, he'd sensed only two. But striking them triggered Full Emptiness. Killing with calm ease revived a long-dormant sense.
Danger!
He knew the signs well.
Hairs standing on end in dread, chill like a blade at the throat, heart pounding as if run a thousand miles.
Two ears confirmed: three more.
Kills done. Exposed now, like it or not. If they yelled, he'd be swarmed like Hanbi and Jaja. Silence them, and he'd slip the noose.
He didn't move.
Poison? No.
He knew poison. Mastered it, even. Irresistible to killers. Easy deaths.
But poison torments.
Instant-kill toxins existed, painless ones too—rare and hard to procure.
He used needles.
Mouth gripped a needle tube, blowing darts with breath alone.
His were called Ox-Hair Needles, thin as bristles.
Prepped when Vanguard tasked the Merchant Guest kill.
How else slay a peak expert like that? Assassination only, and even then... not just any.
One chance. His tool: breath needles.
Trembling, he eyed the fifth warrior. Breath needle range: two paces max. Had to close or nothing.