Heir (3)
Namgung I-in drew his sword.
It was a blade coated in ash to kill its reflective gleam.
Far in the distance stood the building sheltering tonight's assassination target.
He took a deep breath, reining in his tension.
'Today is just like any other day. Just another round of my usual hobby.'
He repeated it to himself inwardly, forcing his mind to settle.
But the trembling wouldn't stop.
It felt exactly like the day he'd first taken up this hobby as an assassination contractor.
He was little more than a distant branch family member.
Still, bearing the Namgung name had granted him no small privileges.
Decent skills, tolerable connections.
A life he could settle for.
But one emotion had steadily gnawed at his heart: boredom.
As it grew, the spark faded from his eyes.
Then one day.
He found himself facing black path assailants who had ambushed the Namgung Clan head.
Watching them die by his sword, he felt an inexplicable thrill.
He was a member of the Hwi-byeok Corps, the elite guards sworn to protect the clan head's family.
Sure, he lived by the blade, but opportunities to kill directly were rarer than expected.
Few moths dared flutter toward the Namgung family's flame.
He couldn't forget that thrill, yet circumstances denied him free rein to kill.
The Namgung Clan would never tolerate staining their name.
In the end, he devised one solution.
A double life.
That marked the beginning of his existence as the assassin contractor Dark Guest.
Boredom vanished, and life returned to his eyes.
Sometimes he wondered if this was right, but he was already addicted to the rush. No turning back.
Until one day.
Washing his face, he glimpsed his reflection in the basin.
The feral glare of a blood-starved madman.
Shocked, he quit as Dark Guest.
But for one so hooked on the thrill, his nighttime hobby had long since become inescapable.
He resumed his assassinations, justifying it to himself.
'The other Namgung clansmen act all righteous in public while wallowing in corruption behind closed doors.'
'So why not me? No one lives squeaky clean anyway.'
And so it became his hobby.
One that even earned him pocket money, to boot.
Time passed, and recently, someone had approached him with a contract kill.
"There's someone I want dead."
"As you know, my fee is one nyang of gold.
One nyang could buy a whole thatched house—a tidy sum.
"Here it is."
The client showed him the gold nyang.
"But you'll get it after the job's done."
"No issue. Who's the target?"
"Na Jeong-su. The one set to enter the poetry contest in Beijing."
The client described the man's appearance in detail.
"And there's an extra commission on how you kill him."
"That'll cost extra..."
Clink.
"Consider this advance on the extra. A down payment."
It was a tricky job, but he pulled it off flawlessly.
Then trouble arose.
Namgung Yang, whom he'd been guarding on the clan head's orders, was fingered as the culprit.
Someone had testified to seeing him leave the estate and wander the markets—impossible to pinpoint when or how.
'What the hell happened?'
He soon realized his mistake.
Killing Na Jeong-su, he'd unwittingly left traces of Namgung martial arts.
Somehow, Namgung Yang was cleared, and things seemed to resolve.
Yang had flunked the poetry contest prelims and was heading back to Anhui tomorrow.
No way to catch him then.
But today, Eun Seo-ho had dropped a loaded remark to the Namgung elder.
"Actually, I think I can uncover the identity of the one who killed the victim."
He'd harbored faint suspicions.
When evidence was mentioned, panic set in. What had he left behind?
Then came the sound transmission.
"So if you don't want to get caught as the culprit, grab what you can and scram."
He realized it then.
They already knew he was the killer.
Eun Seo-ho demanded ten nyang of gold to keep quiet.
The famed Seonhyeopmirang brazenly asking for a bribe? Absurd.
'That ×××! All shiny on the outside, rotten within!'
Still, he couldn't let his guilt spread.
At best, crippled dantian and exile from the clan. At worst, execution.
He wanted neither.
His usual fee was one nyang per hit, long since blown on pleasures.
Ten nyang? Doable, but...
Would it truly seal lips forever?
One sure way: kill to silence.
But the target was a peak expert, giving him pause.
Then opportunity knocked.
"We'll stay here tonight. Any annexes available?"
A golden chance.
Guards even dismissed!
He couldn't pass it up. Feigning illness, he slipped out.
And came to the annex at Chun-mong Pavilion where Eun Seo-ho lodged.
"Hoo..."
Namgung I-in gazed at his sword, steadying his breath.
His eyes flashed murderously, the tremor in his hand stilled.
Concealing his presence, he approached the annex.
No guards around. Just one sound.
"Zzz... Snort... Mmm..."
Namgung I-in smiled faintly.
The sleeping drug he'd dusted on the food heading to Eun Seo-ho's annex had worked perfectly.
Potent enough to drop even a peak warrior.
He donned a mask.
And leaped into the annex.
Slide.
The door opened, and he stepped inside.
"...!"
A chill prickled his instincts. He swung his sword on reflex.
Clang!
Metal clashed. Something lunged at him.
Before he could react, pain exploded in his shoulder.
Thud!
"Argh!"
A voice rang out.
"Palgap, light it up."
"Yes, sir."
Candlelight flared. Only then did Namgung I-in see the room.
The untouched dinner table.
Eun Seo-ho, robes pristine.
'A trap!'
What followed was predictable.
He drew a dagger and thrust at his own throat.
Thwack!
Eun Seo-ho kicked his hand away and drove a fist into his gut.
Wham!
"Guhk!"
Hah, where'd you think you were running to!
The assailant who'd just targeted me had tried to slit his own throat.
No stomach for the consequences—he'd rather flee to the afterlife.
Why pull that stunt if he couldn't handle the fallout...?
Tsking, I peeled off the fainted man's mask.
As expected, the same guy I'd sound-transmitted to.
Black path auras aren't all identical. Each carries a unique taint.
That's how I'd pegged him as the killer.
But his black path aura felt thicker now. Despite training Namgung techniques.
Why?
A moment's thought yielded the answer.
"Black path aura" isn't some fixed vibe—it's energy gone astray.
Astray from the natural order.
Having mastered the Taiyin Ice Sea Divine Art and reached the Super First-rate realm, I knew the "natural order" wasn't so grand.
Cherish life.
That's the start and end of it.
Black path folk disregard life, so their actions defy the order. Their inner energy knows it best, warping accordingly.
Of course, even orthodox martial artists kill.
Assassins or bandits attack—you strike back.
Yet they lack that black aura.
Probably because they fill a necessary role.
Farmers kill pests to save crops. Same principle.
If your heart wields the blade to protect other lives, you don't turn black path.
That's what makes a hero.
I eyed the killer at my feet.
His thick black aura spoke of long defiance of the order.
Proof that orthodox arts won't save you if you act like a black path devil.
And stronger now? He'd harbored intent to kill me.
I gave him a cold glance.
"Wake him."
"Yes."
Seo-u Warrior, who'd come as guard, spoke up.
"Before that, should we bind his limbs? Pain in the neck if he tries suicide again."
"Good idea. But too much hassle..."
I grinned.
"Just snap his wrists."
"Got it."
"Check for poison pills too."
Crack!
Seo-u Warrior shattered both wrists without hesitation and inspected his mouth.
"Wake him."
Slap! Slap!
Cheongun Warrior smacked his cheeks until his eyes fluttered open.
"Gasp!"
Startled, he pushed up with his hands—and screamed.
"Urk!"
Of course it hurt. Wrists pulverized.
As he collapsed again, I smiled warmly.
"I've got some questions. Cooperate, yeah?"
Gulp.
His throat bobbed violently.
He got it.
This was no game.
......
A bit later.
I nudged the battered Namgung I-in with my foot.
"Hey."
No response. Passed out again.
The interrogation had revealed his identity and some details.
I'd wanted to probe the Namgung Clan too, but held back.
Focus on the contract killing—anything else would seem suspicious.
Otherwise, he might blab my questions to Elder Namgung Geonji.
Killing him here would end it, but...
He claimed ignorance of his client.
"Voice! I might recognize the voice and hands."
To track the client, I needed him alive.
"Sigh."
I slumped into a chair and turned to Palgap.
"Palgap, you have that, right?"
"What?"
"Gold Spirit... no, Jeong An-su. The stuff I gave you."
"Yes, sir. Here."
"Heal him with it."
"Pardon?"
Palgap gaped in disbelief.
"Why heal this scum? He's butchered countless souls."
He'd heard it all during questioning.
How many he'd killed.
His skill was sharp, and he'd hidden Namgung arts—until now.
Wrong opponent this time.
I told Palgap, "I'd rather not, but we roughed him up pretty bad."
"......"
He hadn't cracked easily, so I'd gotten rough.
Flesh torn to bone in spots.
Blackouts and wake-ups galore.
Tougher than expected.
Hah, the Namgung Clan breeds 'em sturdy?
Cheongun Warrior's face was odd.
"Something wrong?"
He scratched his cheek. "Well... we kinda feel like the bad guys here."
I chuckled. "Good and evil are relative. Key is not crossing the line."
"I... see."
To Palgap: "Hurry and heal him. The Namgung Clan sees this, they'll foam at the mouth."
Not just questioning—a full torture session on one of their own.
Even branch family, they cherish the Namgung name.
They'd flip.
I'd gone that far thanks to Gold Spirit saliva.
Old batch, but potent.
No need to waste fresh on him.
Even if he snitched, no evidence meant slander.
Elder Namgung Geonji, top dog here, liked me.
One slip, and his deeds surface—dire punishment.
Any brains, he'd stay mum.
Sigh, now I feel like the real villain.
—Kwee!
—Gold Spirit, why agree?