Chapter 1
Chapter 1
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Ghost of Katabi
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Drip.
A water droplet fell onto his face.
The chill of the water spread from the bridge of his nose across his entire face.
It was more than enough to disrupt his shallow sleep.
A hovel of a house.
He had no idea how long he'd been asleep.
His body ached all over, and his eyes were dry and gritty—he could only guess that he hadn't slept properly again today.
Drop.
…
Another droplet fell, and he opened his eyes, which he'd kept shut.
"Haa!"
A heavy sigh burst out right after.
It was impossible not to sigh.
Just a year ago, he'd been sleeping comfortably in a palace-like mansion—cool in summer, warm in winter.
Swish.
He slowly raised his body.
Crack.
Ugh…!
It was the same today.
The moment he tried to sit up, excruciating pain shot along his spine.
He knew it was too much to hope for no pain from a body that had completely rotted away.
Just once!
Still, every time he opened his eyes and forced himself upright, he hoped against hope.
He wished, just this once, that his body would rise without any agony.
How trivial a wish it was.
"Tch."
Realizing today's wish hadn't come true either, he dragged his utterly broken body toward the door.
Drag.
His legs weren't normal either.
He could barely move by relying on his relatively intact left foot and dragging the rest.
Creeak.
As he opened the door, the fresh dawn air greeted him.
The house inside had been dank and musty.
He loved this freshness the moment he stepped out after being cooped up.
That's why he came out right after waking, no matter how uncomfortable his body felt.
The sun's rising.
He turned his head, watching the sun slowly illuminate the world.
An old house nestled in the deep mountain foothills.
It was a stretch to call it his home.
He'd stumbled upon it by chance while fleeing, after all.
Drag.
He couldn't stand for long, so he dragged his feet toward the rock where he always sat.
Thud.
"Hoo."
He was out of breath just from making it from the house to the rock.
It was a moment that inevitably brought self-loathing and a strange irony.
"An assassin who rose to the top with body techniques alone, now panting just to reach the rock in front of his house."
His past had shone brilliantly.
Without any gear, he could scale high peaks in a single breath, and a light punch would turn mountain-like boulders to dust.
Now, if he punched a rock, his hand would shatter instead.
Of course, he hadn't started at the top as an assassin.
His life had been so arduous that anyone hearing it would wave it off as a joke.
Kang Hyuk.
To the people here, it was an incredibly awkward name.
And for good reason—it was from another world.
It was only natural that a name given to him in Seoul, South Korea, would sound strange to people of this world.
Already 15 years?
A time that was long if long, short if short.
He'd been alone and utterly miserable, but he'd been living in Seoul until he came to Katabi—a world where only assassins existed.
What the hell was that?
A question he'd pondered countless times since first arriving in Katabi.
A sudden black rift had appeared.
Through that rift, he'd gone from Seoul to Katabi.
If he hadn't taken that shortcut that day, would he still be in Seoul?
There was a shortcut from elementary school to the orphanage.
It was a steep cliffside path that had been blocked off as dangerous.
But without it, he'd have to take a huge detour, so he'd always snuck through it to school and back, avoiding adults' eyes.
- Rumble…!
It was a day of thunder and pouring rain.
Rain so heavy he couldn't see an inch ahead.
As usual, heading to the orphanage via the shortcut, he'd slipped and tumbled off the cliff.
And the moment he fell, the black rift had swallowed him.
Pfft.
A hollow laugh escaped him unbidden.
No wonder the people of Katabi didn't believe it.
Even he, the person involved, sometimes doubted if it had been a dream.
…
The instant his foot slipped, he'd thought he was dead for sure.
It wasn't a height a 10-year-old could survive.
- Kid! Are you okay!?
As he lay feeling the rain still pouring on his face, thinking this was it, a voice reached his ears.
- Rustle.
He slowly opened his eyes to see an old man with snow-white hair and beard.
His first impression was stubborn gruffness.
Yet the old man had a strangely warm voice and eyes.
Master.
It was his first meeting with his master.
Saroyka, the supreme assassin who had reached the pinnacle in the world of assassins, Katabi.
The master, weary of endless battles and secluded in the mountains, had found him collapsed.
- Seoul, huh.
After warming his body in the master's hideout, he'd begun recounting his tale.
To the master who had lived his whole life in Katabi, it was unbelievable, but instead of scoffing, the master had nodded solemnly.
- Do you want to go back?
That was the first question the master asked after hearing him out.
Anyone else would have shouted, "Of course!" but he didn't.
- No.
The new world was unfamiliar and scary.
But Seoul had been the same.
Abandoned from childhood, enduring all sorts of abuse and neglect until age 10.
If anything, escaping that reality felt like a blessing.
- Good.
He still didn't know what that "good" meant.
The master had nodded readily and patted his shoulder.
- I'll help you survive here.
In Katabi, a brutal world where strength determined everything.
A kid dropped from Seoul couldn't just survive on his own.
From that day, the master at the pinnacle of assassins began training him.
- You only have body techniques! Train your body even more harshly!
Assassins of Katabi were born with it as a matter of course.
Yin Force.
The essential resource for Assassin Arts, but he, not born in Katabi, had none.
That's why.
While assassins of the fire nation spewed flames and those of the ice nation summoned ice, he had to swing only fists and feet endlessly.
It was fucking tough.
Even now, recalling it felt like hell every day.
Training started before dawn and lasted past midnight.
Intensity impossible for a 10-year-old body to endure, but for some reason, he'd gritted his teeth and pushed through.
Probably because he didn't want to live as a nobody like before.
- You were born for body techniques! You have innate talent!
Words the master said while he endured the hellish training.
At first, he'd thought it was empty encouragement.
Talent? For someone without the requisite Yin Force every assassin needed.
He figured it was just passing talk, nothing to take seriously.
But,
Soon enough, he realized.
The master hadn't been speaking empty words.
Drag.
Nearly 10 years of training with the master.
Thinking of the training made him want to come here.
The cliff before him—the closest spot he could reach to watch the sun, among his limited options.
- How about it? This scenic view after training!
After training, he'd be so exhausted he couldn't walk properly.
The master would carry him to the cliff beside the training ground.
Even in his dazed state, unable to take in surroundings, the view would drop his jaw.
- How was today's training!
Truth be told, he hadn't gone there for the view.
A view loses its wonder after seeing it once or twice.
It was simply fun.
His body screamed from the grueling training, but the cool cliff breeze soothed it, and the time chatting with the master while feeling that wind was pure joy.
Enough to recall the word "happiness" he'd forgotten.
…
Grueling and tough, yet happy 10 years.
They passed in a flash.
- Planning to leave?
It was after training, like any other day.
The master, lost in thought, suddenly asked if he planned to go.
He still vividly remembered the master's complicated gaze.
A disciple who had already surpassed him in body techniques.
For the disciple's growth, sending him out was right, but affection made it bittersweet.
His eyes were full of regret at soon parting with his disciple.
- You're worried I'll see the same world as you.
The end of the tale where the master stood at the pinnacle.
That end held only emptiness and void.
No matter how strong he grew, the void never fully filled.
- If I could, I'd stop you, but you'll go anyway.
As the master said.
Back then, he needed a place to unleash his overflowing power.
More precisely, to prove his existence in this world.
The master knew that too, so even knowing what end awaited, he didn't stop him.
- Don't die. And since you're going, claim the top.
- ...Pfft.
Toward the master speaking seriously, unlike usual.
He'd flashed a playful smile.
- Not leaving right now, so why get all goosebumpy?
- You little punk, even when I'm worried!
Embarrassed by his sudden seriousness, the master had chased him with a real head-smack.
"Pfft."
A memory that lifted his spirits.
A time when one person—at least one—truly worried for him.
The first person born to care and worry for him was the master.
That's why he hadn't left.
Or rather, couldn't.
He had goals, but happiness that might never return—he couldn't casually abandon it.
"…"
He probably wouldn't have left.
If only his happiness hadn't shattered.
Rustle.
At the presence from behind, he slowly turned his head.
"I'm sick of it, so sick."
It wasn't an empty complaint.
Pure, 100% sincerity.
Assassins holding masks and weapons from their respective nations.
Thousands of them, by rough estimate.
"Disgusting bastards."
Sneer.
Appearing at such perfect timing, a smile tugged at his lips.
The ones who had shattered his one and only happiness.
He should have killed them all, but he hadn't.
"Found you."
Among the thousands of assassins, the one who seemed the leader stepped forward with those words.
And.
A nostalgic name came from his mouth.
For a brief time, the most widespread name across all of Katabi.
The sole achievement from endless battles amid bloodshed.
"Ghost of Katabi, Kang Hyuk."