Legends of Transcendent Talent
Born the son of a prostitute, he devised his own martial arts alone and rose to become the Heavenly Demon, the supreme ruler of the demonic path. The Martial Emperor was said to have clashed with this Heavenly Demon day and night for dozens of days, ultimately severing the demon's head. Martial enthusiasts revered their innate gifts as the Heavenly Demon Body and the Heavenly Martial Body. There were others too: the Empty Spirit Body, which endlessly absorbed the energies of nature; the Pure Yang Body, born with untainted pure yang qi. Countless such superhuman prodigies, beyond human measure, were passed down as legends. Each time a talent transcending limits appeared, the martial world was swept by storms of blood.
The walls that ordinary folk barely scaled after decades of grueling asceticism and life-or-death battles—those same barriers were casually ignored by such absurd geniuses, as if they never existed. This talent, so coveted and envied by so many in the jianghu, began to be called by slightly different names as one delved deeper into the profound mysteries of the East and ventured toward the West.
"Target departure confirmed."
A low report came from inside a silver van parked across from the rundown apartment complex.
"Confirmed. Deploy the execution team."
With that curt reply, the pre-positioned operatives rose from their spots. The men, scattered in different directions, slipped into the complex one by one without acknowledging each other, blending in naturally. Under the languid afternoon sun of a lazy weekend, they looked like nothing more than residents heading to the market or out for a casual stroll. But the eyes hidden beneath their hat brims were locked solely on the entrance to the target unit.
To avoid even the slightest suspicion, they'd rigorously avoided prior reconnaissance or physical approaches. Instead, over several days from a distance, they'd compiled data on power usage, delivery records, and satellite blueprints to simulate every possible path through the complex. The man's stride toward the entrance, passing the flower beds, held not a hint of hesitation or excess motion.
Like residents coincidentally heading the same way, the three who gathered at the elevator exchanged no words. Ding—<Floor 1>
<Floor 1>
The cramped elevator, surrounded by mirrors on three sides. Only their own expressionless faces, layered endlessly in the reflections. As if by prior agreement, one pressed the floor button while the other two leaned silently against the wall.
<Floor 14>
The target was unit 1408. With a sense of buoyancy, the elevator began ascending. Floor 2... 3... 4. Ding—<Floor 4>
<Floor 4>
The elevator halted midway. The three men's eyes met briefly in the mirror. The doors parted on the fourth floor, and a single female student stepped in.
<Floor 17>
Her long straight hair, tangled and damp—whether from sweat or water was unclear—cascaded down her nape. The shirt collar gaped open below her collarbone, exposing her cleavage under the lights. With each step, the short skirt hem swayed precariously, revealing the pale skin beneath the fluttering shirttails, drawing the eye for an instant. Ding—<Floor 14>
<Floor 14>
As the doors opened on the fourteenth floor, the three who exited swiftly fanned out in their prearranged formation, crossing the hallway. They halted before the target, unit 1408, and the lead operative reached for his tool to bypass the lock—then froze.
The metal room number plate on the front door gleamed coldly.
[1409]
It should have been 1408.
"...The intel's wrong."
A crack entered the man's low murmur for the first time. According to the paths they'd memorized from days of distant surveillance, it was second door on the right after the hall's end corner. No matter how many times they replayed the mental simulations, no such variable existed.
Instinctively, the man turned to check the neighboring door.
[1410]
[1407]
Exchanging glances, the men backtracked along the wall to the beginning. 1403, 1404, 1405... [1415]. The apartment's squat 'ㅍ'-shaped well design had fourteen units per floor. With the center hollowed out, standing at the hallway railing let you peer straight down to the first-floor ground—a courtyard-style structure. In a normal setup, circling the hall once should align all the numbers perfectly.
[1415]
"The numbers don't add up."
The man at the rear murmured lowly. They circled the hallway again. The click of their shoe heels echoed through the rectangular corridor. After 1407 came 1409, then 1410. Rounding the end corner brought the 1415 sensor light blinking mockingly once more.
"There was definitely no 1415 in this building."
The man's voice carried unpleasantly through the humid hallway air, thick with the musty mold scent unique to old apartments. It felt as if the decrepit structure were a living organism, twisting itself to deceive its visitors.
"Intel team's screw-up?"
The team leader glared at the 1415 plate and spat lowly. His tone held less bewilderment than icy fury at the compromised data integrity. They'd circled the hall four times now. The 'ㅍ'-shaped loop had no dead ends, and they'd checked every number each lap. The result was the same: a nonexistent 1415 had appeared, and 1408's spot was occupied by 1409.
"No way. Satellite imagery, property records, even the 72-hour thermal scans showed three heat signatures inside 1408's living room, including the target."
The lead man denied it flatly, reaching for his radio. But for some reason, external comms were dead.
"Stay calm. If the intel isn't wrong, it's just a glitch."
The team leader tried framing it within rational bounds. "Maybe the numbers shifted. If this door's position matches 1408 for sure, we breach."
With the call made, the other two replied not with words but quick hand signals. The man at the door coupled a portable hacking module to the electronic lock's base terminal. After seconds of electronic beeps, a mechanical click signaled the unlock. They slipped inside soundlessly.
The target's living room layout, furniture placement, and optimal paths were already simulated thousands of times in their heads.
"Halt."
Their steps stopped in unison. The team leader approached a decorative cabinet in the living room corner with quiet footfalls. Beside the mother-of-pearl wardrobe filling the wall hung a faded family photo in a frame. A black-and-white elderly couple—one cradling a grandchild, the woman in hanbok—stared down impassively.
A velvet-draped old sofa, an ancient pedestal fan, the damp herbal medicine scent hanging in the air. Nowhere was the vibrant 1408 living room they'd spied through telephoto lenses days ago.
"When did the fog get this thick?"
Beyond the balcony, the view was shrouded; visibility zero.
"Pull out for now. Looks like we got the wrong place. This isn't 1408. Move to the next."
Without delay, they checked the adjacent units. But both held only unfamiliar furniture and household items—no trace of their target.
"Withdraw."
Deeming the mission impossible, the team leader ordered retreat. Careful to leave no intrusion marks lest anyone notice something off, they headed to the elevator. Though barely past 3 p.m., the thick fog darkened the halls.
"Too quiet."
Even in the op zone, the team leader broke the silence. Saturday afternoon 3 o'clock—in a corridor-style apartment like this, there should have been living noises, but only their footsteps sounded.
Ding—<Floor 14>
<Floor 14>
The doors opened; they entered one by one. Flicker—flicker—the aging bulb dimmed momentarily, then recovered.
<Floor 1>
As one hit the button, the doors closed smoothly, and descent began. Heavy silence filled the tight space. The three men stared at mirrors or the floor display, saying nothing. Flicker—Today's elevator felt unusually slow. A chill, damp aura mingled with a faint fishy odor. Flicker—flicker—
"Huh?"
The exclamation burst out. The man leaning against the inner wall let bewilderment slip through his lips—a breach unforgivable in a silence-is-rule op—but he couldn't help it. For a split second, the female student had been standing in the elevator's center.
"What is it?"
Sensing the anomaly, the team leader broke protocol to ask. His deep, low voice filled the space.
"Nothing... thought I saw a ghost or something."
Under scrutiny, the man shook his head, brushing it off to refocus.
"Stay sharp. No slacking."
"Seojun, why're you just standing there? Come on in."
At his dad's question, the boy paused at the apartment entrance and turned.
"Dunno. Seems like more security guys than usual."
The boy's gaze pierced the corridor glass. Unfamiliar men with blank faces stared out the window.
"Yeah? New hires maybe? Hurry up, come eat some bread."
Mom tugged his hand casually. The family of three slowly stepped into the darkening complex.