Save the Rich Friend (3)
“W-what did you say?”
Seok Mu-sam recoiled in shock at the young warrior's words, spoken as if gazing down on the entire scene below. What was even more astonishing...
……!!
The hellish battlefield, where moments ago they'd been fighting tooth and nail, had suddenly gone quiet. It was as if everyone agreed with the young warrior's claim, settling into a tense standoff—and that doubled Seok Mu-sam's astonishment.
“Young hero. How can you say that?” The captain asked, having come down near the lower deck at just the right moment.
“Let's check on those who've fallen. In this brutal fight, the only ones badly wounded or dead are the merchants and their guards.”
At the young warrior's calm words, realization dawned on the captain. He counted them up—and sure enough! The dead were indeed only a few merchants and their guards.
Not a single sailor or pirate from the front lines lay dead, did they? Sure, some pirates were staggering, leaning against the deck or slumping down, but on closer inspection, not one was bleeding.
And that wasn't all.
“There's more. Compare the sails and anchors on the pirates' ship with ours. Leaving aside how similar the sails look, the knots tying the anchors, their positions, even the directions—they're identical. Sure, sailors might share similar techniques, but no way. No two ships have every little detail the same. Unless they're from the same group.”
The sharp observation made the captain's face harden even further. He looked so wronged that not only the nearby merchants watching it all, but even Seok Mu-sam started to waver.
“That's just coincidence. Isn't suspecting us over something like that a bit of a stretch?”
“Is it? Then let me give you something more solid.”
The young warrior shrugged as if he had no choice, then continued.
“Decisively, the martial arts, footwork, and movements used by the pirates and sailors are all the same. That screams they're from one sect. What clearer proof could there be?”
Grind!
Were those words the final blow? The captain—no, No Cheon-hoe, deputy leader of the assassin troupe Daesalmak (Great Killing Curtain), hired by Seok Mu-sam's two brothers to kill him today—began to smile faintly.
“Heh heh heh, looks like we've been caught red-handed.”
No Cheon-hoe, deputy leader of Daesalmak and known as a top-tier assassin in the jianghu. His moniker was a bit unusual: Soso-sal (Little Laughing Killer), earned because he laughed every time killing intent rose before a target—laughing all the way to the kill.
“Correct. We're Daesalmak assassins, disguised as pirates and sailors.”
With things out in the open, No Cheon-hoe spilled everything without restraint. It wasn't desperation; it was confidence that he'd wipe them all out, leaving no worries.
“So you inserted the merchants and their guards just to make it look like they died fighting the pirates?”
The young warrior's tone remained cool and unflinching, unfazed by Daesalmak's deputy leader.
“Right. Our target happens to be a famous guy who'd stir up rumors everywhere... so we needed witnesses to say he died naturally.”
That was Daesalmak's scheme. They'd taken the contract to kill Seok Mu-sam somewhere he couldn't escape—a ship at sea—and planned it all. But they couldn't just kill him outright; it had to look natural, with merchants as witnesses to wrap it up perfectly.
“Our target's that pathetic third son of the Stone Family head next to you: Seok Mu-sam.”
“You... you despicable...!”
Seok Mu-sam roared in fury at No Cheon-hoe's frank admission. At the same time, a deep sense of betrayal hit him.
To think my two brothers would target me at a time like this!
His father's sixtieth birthday banquet was right around the corner—did they really have to spill blood? Half-brothers or not, they were still brothers. It made his blood run cold.
“A corpse-to-be yapping away.”
No Cheon-hoe and the Daesalmak assassins stopped all unnecessary movement. Instead, they herded the stunned merchants and guards to the opposite side, calmly signaling their execution.
“You weren't in my plan, though. I checked if you were Seok Mu-sam's guard, but no—you're clearly just a chance passenger. So who are you, seeing through us at a glance?”
In response to No Cheon-hoe's question, the young warrior finally revealed himself.
“I am the Jade-Faced Divine Saint, Cheon Myeong.”
* * *
I finally revealed my identity.
Truth be told, I'd known everything before even boarding the ship.
Why? Because in the original Seven Falls, Eight Rises: The Invincible Fist King that I'd read, Seok Mu-sam dies right here.
How? Exactly as Daesalmak planned: he "naturally" dies amid the chaotic battle.
That way, it's not like he died to a pirate's blade—it's just too natural.
No direct murder, so his two brothers at Stone Family avoid rumors of fratricide, and the merchants and guards make perfect witnesses. One stone, two birds.
Knowing the answers in advance makes the whole picture clear.
Like taking a test after memorizing the answer key.
Hell, I even knew the Stone Family head loves tea and would be thrilled with some as a gift. I'd remembered a scene where someone pleased him that way in the past.
That's why I'd helped the pure-hearted Seok Mu-sam.
“Jade-Faced Divine Saint Cheon Myeong?”
“W-who's that?”
“Never heard of him.”
Their confusion at not knowing me didn't last.
I'd once caused a massive stir near Sichuan Province.
What happened? ...
“Ah! I remember!”
“The guy who wiped out Sichuan's Black Heaven Gang!”
“The mad peak-level expert who beat the Black Heaven Sword Ghost, Du Jeong-cheong, lord of the unorthodox Sichuan underworld!”
Spot on.
Coincidentally, I'd gained quite the reputation in Sichuan martial world for defeating the Black Heaven Sword Ghost, Du Jeong-cheong.
“What?!”
Even the confused Seok Mu-sam gaped at me, and the merchants and guards on death's door let out cheers.
Woooaaah!
Simple reason for their joy: if I really was the super-peak expert from the rumors, I could take down Daesalmak's deputy and his assassins.
Alone might be tough, but with the surviving guards backing me up and protecting Seok Mu-sam, it was doable.
“Hmm, I've heard the rumors. Beat the Black Heaven Sword Ghost, strongest graduate in Cheonmu Academy history...”
Now knowing who I was, Daesalmak's deputy, Little Laughing Killer No Cheon-hoe, turned his attention to me. He seemed genuinely surprised, forgetting his signature smile that only came with killing intent.
“If the rumors hold, you're definitely above me. But...”
No Cheon-hoe eyed me up and down, his smile deepening—not with mirth, but mockery.
“You don't look it. Jianghu rumors always get exaggerated, padded out.”
This top Daesalmak assassin had a real long tongue.
“Know what happened to those who said that to my face?”
“What?”
“Every one got utterly crushed and ended up looking up at me from below.”
Simple answer.
Didn't believe me? I'd show them.
Crack!
I casually clenched my fist into position, shielding Seok Mu-sam behind me.
“Cheon Myeong, right? You're here to save me?”
I shook my head at Seok Mu-sam's innocent question.
“Not save—if we don't take them down, we're all dead. They won't leave a single soul alive today.”
My words hit home; No Cheon-hoe nodded, chuckling again.
He'd probably resolved to slaughter everyone but his assassins the moment I exposed them.
“Correct.”
And with that, No Cheon-hoe's ambush began.
In a straight warrior duel, it'd be called cowardly. But not here.
Enemy's assassins. In real combat, 'cowardly' doesn't exist.
Not everyone was orthodox martial artist pulling formal stances.
In short: pure assassin move from Little Laughing Killer No Cheon-hoe.
-Grak-sal Ji Geom (Strike Kill Sword)!
No Cheon-hoe was a top assassin. Short of special-class who could kill super-peak experts, he was elite.
Proving it, he unleashed a stealthy, lightning-fast thrust. What to do?
I'd seen Meng Yu-on's swift sword up close a thousand times, sparred endlessly.
Too familiar with that level of speed.
So did this thrust look fast or slow to me?
Easy answer.
-Hwan-sin Bi (Illusion Body Flight)!
My form twisted in an eerie direction—then effortlessly dodged No Cheon-hoe's killing strike.
Seemed simple, just evading once. Far from it.
Assassins go for one-hit kill. Fail, and they get countered.
That's why they're scarier than gang leaders or demon heads: first strike optimized for murder, countless lives claimed.
Yet I'd dodged it easily, overwhelmingly.
“You bastard!”
No Cheon-hoe bellowed in rage as his sure-kill failed.
Little Laughing Killer, who supposedly smiled even in kills. Feeling humiliated, he wasn't laughing—furious instead.
“Die!”
Second strike followed instantly. Targets don't always drop in one hit, so quick follow-up. Definitely faster.
Shiiiing!
So fast it felt like it sliced space itself.
But speed means nothing without hitting.
-Reverse Step!
I backstepped, nullifying his sure-kill.
“Gasp!”
Seok Mu-sam beside me gasped as it grazed by razor-close. To a layman, it'd look like my flesh was about to be carved off.
Too early to be shocked.
I'd neutralized his second attack with Reverse Step—now leveraging its strength: swift counter after evade.
-Tu Gye No Kwon (Fighting Cock Angry Fist)!
My fist, loaded with potent inner energy, shattered No Cheon-hoe's unguarded chest ribs.
Crunch!
Assassins did take down superiors—through meticulous plans, traps, ambushes.
Face-to-face like this? Even inferiors could crush them.
“Huh? You don't laugh when you get hit?”