Chapter 641: Prisoner 4885
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 641: Prisoner 4885
[It is no hallucination.]
"Damn it! Who’s there?!"
Tang So shouted urgently, his voice echoing through the chamber.
He began to scan his surroundings once more, intent on discovering the source of the voice. However, there wasn't a soul in sight.
What the hell is going on?!
Tang So began to tremble slightly. The sound of a voice without a body to claim it pricked at his primal fears.
[Over here... I am here.]
"Where is 'here'?!" Tang So bellowed in frustration.
[Behind you.]
"Behind me?"
Tang So’s expression turned to one of confusion. He turned his body slowly to look behind him. There was nothing there but a thick, heavy steel door.
His brow furrowed deeply. He was certain someone was playing a trick on him.
"There’s nothing behind me but the door!" Tang So raised his voice, his tone sharp.
[Beyond the door.]
"Wh-what?!"
[I am beyond the door.]
"Beyond the door... You mean, Prisoner 4885?!"
Tang So gasped, his face pale with shock. There was nothing beyond that door except the entity known as 4885.
[Correct. I am 4885.]
"H-how... How can you speak to me?!"
Tang So stammered, his bewilderment plain. It made no sense. Prisoner 4885 was in no condition to speak. His restraints were so severe they bordered on the absurd.
His eyes were covered by a black blindfold.
A heavy gag was fastened in his mouth.
Every single one of his teeth had been pulled out.
Every tendon in his body had been severed.
His limbs were bound by shackles forged from Cold Iron.
And his internal energy was completely sealed by a powerful binding technique.
He was a man stripped of every conceivable freedom.
How could such a man possibly be speaking to him? It was beyond comprehension.
[Hmph. Did you truly think I would succumb to such trivial restraints? Transmitting a Soul Voice into your mind is simpler than snapping a child's wrist.]
"A Soul Voice?! What does that even mean?" Tang So asked, his confusion deepening. The prisoner was speaking in riddles he couldn't begin to grasp.
[It means I imbue my voice into my soul and transmit it directly into your mind.]
"Imbuing your voice into your soul?"
[Indeed. For one as well-versed in the mysteries of the soul as I, carving away a piece of my spirit to carry my voice is no difficult task.]
"Carving your soul?!"
Tang So asked again, his voice trembling. The idea of "carving one's soul" was so shocking it left him reeling.
[Yes. And the longer the message, the larger the piece of the soul that must be carved away.]
"Why go to such lengths just to call out to me? Surely it wasn't just for a chat..."
Tang So looked toward the door, his mind racing. Carving one's soul—it sounded horrific just to hear. To think someone would casually commit such a gruesome act just to speak... what could he possibly be planning?
[Heh, so you aren't a complete fool after all.]
"What did you say?!" Tang So snapped, his temper flaring.
[It is true. I have business with you. That is why I have reached out, even at the cost of my own soul.]
"And you think I'll just listen to whatever you have to say?" Tang So said, his expression hardening.
Though he was disillusioned with his life as a jailer, he hadn't fallen so far as to do favors for a criminal. He was still a martial artist of the Tang Clan, a man with the pride of his bloodline.
[Heh heh heh... I have a feeling you will listen, no matter what you tell yourself.]
"Shut your mouth! You're a mere prisoner—how dare you mock me!" Tang So barked, putting on a stern front. He couldn't stand the thought of being looked down upon by a common convict.
[Why not listen first before you decide?]
"I'm not interested!" Tang So shouted firmly.
[I can help you escape this tedious, repetitive life.]
"What... what nonsense are you spewing?! My life isn't tedious!" Tang So yelled, though his voice wavered.
It was a lie.
His life was incredibly tedious.
Compared to his peers, his monthly salary was high and his duties were laughably easy, but it was mind-numbingly dull. He was bored to tears. He spent over six hours a day stuck in a subterranean dungeon where not a single ray of sunlight reached, relying on the flickering light of a lone lamp.
But he couldn't let that show. He had no idea what 4885 was plotting.
[Heh heh heh... You are a terrible liar.]
"What?!"
[A lie must be told with composure. Yours was doomed from the start.]
"Are you insulting me?!"
[I am merely stating a fact.]
"I've heard enough! Be quiet!"
[I decline. I haven't finished my proposal.]
"Your proposal isn't worth hearing!"
[Are you not curious?]
"Not in the least!"
Another lie.
In truth, he was curious. He wanted to know how this man could possibly liberate him from his monotonous existence. Curiosity began to burn within him.
But he knew he shouldn't listen. 4885 was a high-priority prisoner for a reason. He couldn't afford to show any weakness.
[I will teach you martial arts.]
".........M-martial arts?!"
The prisoner's next words finally forced a crack in Tang So's resolve. He couldn't help but ask for clarification.
[Yes. I will teach you a martial art that will make you the Greatest of All Time.]
"That's absurd!" Tang So shouted. "You're a broken man locked in a Tang Clan dungeon! What could you possibly know about the world's greatest martial arts?!"
Tang So scoffed at the idea. It was preposterous. 4885 was a cripple rotting in a cell. How could such a person teach anyone to be the strongest? If he possessed such a technique, there was no way he would be trapped here, begging for the attention of a lowly jailer.
[Heh heh heh... You are a suspicious one.]
"I'm only being sensible," Tang So replied defiantly.
[I am Salhon.]
"Wh-what?!"
Tang So’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. The name echoing in his mind was one he couldn't believe.
Salhon?
Wasn't Salhon the legendary terror of the Murim who, forty years ago, had assassinated the most renowned masters without leaving a single trace? Why would such a legendary figure be imprisoned in the Tang Clan's dungeon?
"Liar!"
Tang So rejected the claim immediately. It couldn't be true. The existence of Salhon was nothing more than a ghost story whispered in the Murim. No one had ever confirmed his identity. And now, suddenly, this prisoner claimed to be him? It was utter madness.
[Heh heh heh... A child with no faith.]
"How could I possibly believe you?! Why would the man feared by the entire Murim be locked in a Tang Clan cell?!"
[Heh heh... That is not important, child. What matters is the fact that I can give you the greatest martial art under heaven.]
"...........I don't believe you."
He couldn't.
[Think carefully. Why would the Tang Clan, the greatest family in Sichuan, bind me so thoroughly? Have you ever seen a prisoner restrained with such extreme measures?]
"..........."
Tang So couldn't answer. He hadn't. Not once in his career had he seen a prisoner bound so completely.
[Why do you think they have gone to such lengths?]
".........I don't know."
[No, you know the answer. Do not feign ignorance. You know it well, don't you?]
".................."
[The Tang Clan is afraid of me. They fear that if they give me even the slightest opening, I will slaughter them all. Me—the world's greatest assassin!]
4885 spoke with absolute conviction. Tang So felt himself being slowly swayed. The logic seemed to hold up.
There had never been a prisoner who received such "special treatment." Usually, a jailer monitored five or more prisoners at once. And even for the worst criminals, they were never stripped of their freedom so entirely. Everything about this was unprecedented.
[I will teach you my martial arts. The very techniques that even the great Tang Clan fears!]
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Tang So’s heart began to race. 4885’s words had set a fire in his chest.
An easy but repetitive life.
The same boring scenery, day after day.
Tang So was exhausted by it. He felt like nothing more than a replaceable part in the machinery of the Tang Clan, living a life without meaning. He feared that as long as he stayed here, he wouldn't just stagnate—he would rot.
But now, an opportunity had arrived.
A difficult but new life.
A world of ever-changing, exotic sights.
An opportunity to stand tall in the world, not as a cog in the Tang Clan, but as the man known as Tang So.
How could his heart not race? How could he not be set ablaze?
"Are you... are you really... going to teach me?"
[If you agree, I will begin this instant.]
"Why me?" Tang So asked, his expression wary. Salhon was a legendary figure, often called the God of Death. Why would such a man pass his legacy to him?
[To be honest, I am not particularly fond of passing my arts to someone as dull as you.]
"Then why?"
[Unfortunately, I do not have much time left to live. I don't have the luxury of hand-picking a disciple. Consider yourself lucky. You are about to obtain the world's greatest martial art through pure, dumb luck.]
"But there are other jailers besides me!"
There were three other jailers who rotated through this section. Among them, Tang So was nothing special—just a mediocre martial artist. Why him?
[Unlike the others, you are greedy. And martial arts are always mastered best by those with great greed.]
"Just for that reason?"
[Did I not tell you? I have no other options. I simply chose the best of the lot.]
"The best of the lot, huh..."
Tang So repeated the words to himself. It didn't feel bad. It meant he had more potential than the other three, at least in the prisoner's eyes.
[Now, choose. Will you learn from me? Or will you walk away? Your fate depends on this choice.]
"I'll do it!"
Tang So agreed immediately, without a moment's hesitation. This was the start of the new life he had always craved. There was no way he could refuse.
[Heh heh heh... Good. Then I shall teach you the mantra immediately.]
"Wait, should I... should I call you Master?" Tang So asked, scratching his cheek awkwardly.
[There is no need. I am merely passing on my techniques; I have no intention of forming a master-disciple bond. You need not call me Master, nor do you need to perform the formal bows.]
".......Understood."
Tang So felt a bit slighted by 4885’s cold dismissal. He hadn't expected the man to offer the techniques without any strings attached. Usually, inheriting a martial art meant inheriting the master's grudges and karma as well. But Salhon was casting all that weight aside. It was a situation with all the rights and none of the obligations.
Not bad.
Tang So’s eyes sparkled. As a legendary assassin, Salhon must have had countless enemies and a mountain of blood debts. To inherit his power without having to shoulder any of that burden—how could he not be thrilled?
[Fine. Now, repeat the mantra exactly as I say it. You must not get a single syllable wrong.]
"The mantra? Repeat it? Can't I just memorize it?"
[Repeating it aloud until it rolls off the tongue is the best way to etch it into your memory. I will speak slowly, so follow me precisely.]
"Got... got it." Tang So nodded.
[Mo-mu ba-gu nun su-reu beo-bu... Hon ba-gu nun su-reu beo-bu...]
4885 began to recite the mantra slowly. It was incredibly complex and sounded like utter gibberish.
As expected of a divine art, it's on a different level.
Tang So’s eyes shone as he listened. He was convinced that because it was a divine art, it had to be fundamentally different from any martial arts he knew.
"Mo-mu ba-gu nun su-reu beo-bu... Hon ba-gu nun su-reu beo-bu..."
Tang So slowly began to follow the mantra 4885 provided. He repeated every sound with painstaking accuracy.
[Ba-gu-eo-jeu-ra!]
"Ba-gu-eo-jeu-ra!"
As Tang So shouted the final syllable, something strange began to happen. His entire body began to glow with a brilliant light.
"Wh-what is this?!"
Tang So was panicked by the unexpected sight. But soon, a wide grin spread across his face. He assumed this was simply the effect of the divine art taking hold.
"Hahahaha! Hahahaha!"
Tang So laughed and laughed, basking in the radiance emanating from his body.
How long did he laugh?
Thud.
His laughter cut off abruptly. His expression went blank, and his body suddenly went limp, sagging forward. His head dropped. The brilliant light vanished instantly, as if it had never been there at all.
Slowly...
Tang So raised his head.
"Heh heh heh... Didn't I tell you? A lie must be told with composure."
He clicked his tongue as he spoke, a sinister, unpleasant smile spreading across his lips.