Episode 96. The Martial World Before My Eyes
The assassin stared at the dagger embedded in the table.
‘How… did he…?’
Before he could even think of something to say, his target spoke first.
“Paegeomhoe? Or Ilwido-gang? Don’t bother denying it. Spare me the nonsense. I knew the moment you started watching from that building.”
“……”
Images of Lee Ja-ha flashed through the assassin’s mind — the man stretching lazily, biting into a dumpling, exchanging small talk with the innboy, the calm eyes that caught his own gaze, and the expression that quietly measured him once the boy had gone inside.
He had mistaken all those for casual, everyday gestures.
They weren’t.
Ironically, Ilwido-gang prided itself on training assassins to blend seamlessly into ordinary life. Yet this man had seen right through that — had read every move, every breath, from the start.
Only now, staring at the dagger in the table, did the assassin realize it — that he was facing someone far beyond his league, even by his own guild’s standards.
He couldn’t help asking, “Is the Hao Sect… an assassin group?”
The young man smirked faintly. “You’ll never understand the world if you see it through such a narrow lens.”
I looked at the assassin I was about to kill and felt a wave of annoyance. Not at the act itself — killing him would be easy. But this wouldn’t be the end of it. Unless I wiped out Paegeomhoe or rooted out Ilwido-gang entirely, more would come.
The assassin frowned. “Narrow lens?”
“If a young man talks rudely to a dumpling vendor, anyone normal would turn their head. If a grown man walks around chewing on a dumpling, most would look at him with pity. If someone starts singing nonsense in public, people glance back — it’s instinct. You didn’t. Not once. That means you’ve been trained to suppress reaction. And trained people,” I said, “stand out the most to me.”
Only then did the assassin’s expression begin to change.
“I didn’t recognize you because I’m an assassin,” I said softly. “It’s because I see and think differently than you people do. Understand?”
I smiled. “Killing you doesn’t bother me. What comes after does. Kill one, and another takes his place — their leaders never show their faces. Still, I’ll endure it. Bearing the weight of assassins is part of a leader’s duty.”
I took a sip of Dukang wine and studied the man before me.
If he could talk, I’d talk — then kill him. If not, I’d just kill him.
Still, it had been a while since someone came to kill me, and idle thoughts began to spill out.
“You know, once upon a time, ‘assassin’ and ‘hero’ weren’t so different. Like Jing Ke, who tried to kill the First Emperor of Qin — people respected him.”
“Is that so?”
“But now, you lot take coin to kill anyone. The world’s changed. Assassins and heroes have drifted to opposite shores. Once, the assassin was the hero. Now assassins kill heroes, and heroes kill assassins. What do you think?”
“……”
“No thoughts? The Hao Sect isn’t an assassin guild, but as its master, I do the kind of work that heroes and assassins used to share. So in a sense, I’m one of you.”
I drew my hand across my neck. “I’m good at killing too. Same profession, really. So tell me — wouldn’t it be better if I killed Ilwido-gang’s leader myself? That way, poor bastards like you wouldn’t have to die pointlessly. Any objections?”
I drank again. The assassin didn’t touch his cup — too tense, too focused on speed. Whether his hand would move faster than mine. I sighed.
It wouldn’t.
“Most assassins are orphans,” I said. “And if they’re not, they’re made into orphans. Their families slaughtered first, so they’ll have nothing to care for. No distractions, no attachments. That’s how your kind trains. That’s why you can’t understand me — you’re missing too much of what makes people human. I almost pity you.”
I pointed at him. “It’s only right that I end your body. But know this — you’re not dying because of me. You’re dying because of the man who made you. Remember that as you go.”
“That’s the life of an assassin,” he said quietly.
“Dying just because you were told to?”
“That’s right.”
“No one has to live that way.”
“I’ve already shed too much blood. Who else could I blame?”
“What a miserable life.” I tapped the table. “I want your base of operations. If you won’t talk, draw your sword. You’re making my walk unnecessarily long.”
The assassin’s eyes flicked down — to the dagger in the table — then back up to me.
By the time his gaze returned, I’d already drawn Black Cat from beneath the table.
My own interpretation of the Draw Slash.
Shhk—!
The blade split the table as I channeled mokgye through it, and when the black edge bared its fangs, it coiled with yeomgye — searing flame.
The assassin’s body hadn’t even moved yet when a crimson line appeared across his torso. Blood hissed, igniting on contact with the heat.
Fwoosh!
He staggered up halfway — then his upper body slid diagonally off, splitting in two with a dull thud.
I flicked the blood from my blade and sheathed it again.
His face still held more confusion than pain.
It was mercy to let him die quickly.
I wasn’t angry at him — but at Ilwido-gang and Paegeomhoe. Anger welled up like a rising river inside me.
Just then, Jang Sam, the innboy, rushed out with a startled face. “Master?”
“Mm.”
“Was he… an assassin?”
“Yeah.”
He started toward the corpse, but I stopped him. “Don’t touch it. His clothes or mouth might be laced with poison. Even the corpse can kill.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll send men to clean this up soon. Leave it for now. Here — take this.”
I tossed him some silver.
“For the wine and table.”
“This is too much, Master.”
“Advance payment. Things like this will happen often. I’ll be taking walks more frequently for a while.”
Better to roam freely under the sun than risk being ambushed in my sleep.
“Thank you, sir. But… how did you know? I just thought he was strange.”
I said, “Jang Sam, can’t you tell just by looking?”
“No, sir.”
I jerked my chin toward the corpse. “It’s written all over his face — ‘assassin.’”
“Where? I don’t see it. His forehead’s too small to write anything on.”
“Then you’ve still got a long way to go. Only those who can see that get into Black Cat Hall. Useless brat, sloppy boy, you don’t even know the basics of being an innkeeper.”
“Why are you suddenly insulting me?”
“That’s who I am.”
Jang Sam plucked the dagger from the table and handed it to me. “Here, Master. Quite the trick — pinning the dagger first, then finishing with a sword. That was a psychological feint, wasn’t it?”
“Just a habit.”
“Yes, sir.”
As I turned toward Black Cat Hall, he called after me. “Should I ask the men when they come — if they can spot an assassin at a glance?”
“And if any say they can’t, tell me. Slackers need discipline.”
“Understood!”
Jang Sam later approached the warriors sent from Black Cat Hall and asked the one who looked in charge, “Excuse me.”
“What?”
“Would you say this guy looks like an assassin? He seems kind of normal to me.”
The leader gave him a look of disbelief. “You can’t tell? Really?”
“Uh… no?”
“You can’t tell? Gods, you’re hopeless.”
“Hey, that’s uncalled for. Though… yeah, I am kind of hopeless.”
The man suddenly straightened, adopting a solemn tone. “You’re not with the Hao Sect?”
“Me?”
“You don’t pay tribute anymore, right?”
“Right.”
“Then you are.”
“Ah… understood.”
The man jabbed a thumb at himself. “That’s me.”
“What is?”
“I’m the Chief of the Hao Sect, second only to our Master — the man who helped build it from the ground up, the First Sword of Ilyang, Cha Seong-tae.”
Jang Sam bowed politely. “An honor to meet you, Chief. So you can tell an assassin just by his face?”
Cha Seong-tae nodded gravely. “That’s who I am.”
Jang Sam stared at him, thinking, ‘This con artist… pretending to be the Master. How’d this lazy bum end up second-in-command?’
Cha Seong-tae squinted. “What are you staring at, boy?”
“Ah, nothing. Just… please don’t copy the Master’s way of talking. It sounds weird coming from you.”
“Why, you little—”
He stopped when the nearby warriors burst out laughing. Flustered, he turned toward the corpse and said, “Brothers, the body may be poisoned. Take it to a quiet spot and burn it.”
“Yes, Chief.”
Then he looked back at Jang Sam. “What’s your name?”
“Jang Sam.”
“More assassins may come to inspect how their comrade died. Keep watch.”
“And if I find one? Report it?”
“No, just notice. Don’t do anything risky. You’ll recognize them — they’ll have the same dead look in their eyes.”
“Ah… yes, I noticed that.”
“That’s how you tell.”
Jang Sam nodded respectfully. “You’re amazing, Chief. You should come by for a drink sometime.”
Cha Seong-tae chuckled as he walked off with his men. “Not falling for that. Stop trying to sell drinks.”
Jang Sam crossed his arms, watching him go. ‘Smart or stupid… I can’t tell. A mimic, a smooth talker, a snob, a pain in the ass…’
The next day, Jang Sam sat outside all day, arms crossed, scrutinizing passersby.
‘You’re an assassin, right? No… you? Nah, dead eyes. You? Not you…’
Then he locked eyes with one man — and his heart froze. All thoughts vanished, cut clean by a wave of killing intent.
‘…’
He instinctively lowered his head.
‘That one’s real.’
While he wiped tables, the man approached.
“Got a question.”
“Y-yes, sir?”
He stood respectfully. The man’s slim sword gleamed at his hip as he scanned the table and floor.
“The man who died here yesterday,” he said. “Killed in one strike?”
“Yes, sir.”
Their eyes met, and Jang Sam immediately looked down again.
Now he understood what true fear felt like — a normal-looking man who radiated death.
“Where was he sitting?”
“There. No—yes, there.”
The new assassin sat at the table Jang Sam pointed to and spoke through clenched teeth. “Bring me the same wine he drank.”
“Right away.”
Just then, another man hurried over and whispered, “Captain, you shouldn’t—”
“Stand down.”
When Jang Sam returned with Murung wine and snacks, the assassin said without looking at him, “Boy.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Stay put. Don’t run. If you don’t want to die, sit there.”
Jang Sam obeyed, trembling, as the assassin fixed his gaze on the road — the very path Lee Ja-ha always took for his walks.
Looking out, Jang Sam suddenly realized there were far more unfamiliar faces on the street than usual — a cart-puller, a rice-cake seller, a peddler — all strangers, all with cold eyes.
There were even more — indistinct figures, but wrong somehow. So many that he could no longer tell who was or wasn’t an assassin.
When his eyes darted about, the assassin noticed and smiled chillingly. “Hey, boy.”
“Y-yes?”
“You in a hurry to die?”
“Sorry, sir.”
“Act like a proper innboy. Stop trying to look smart — you’ll just get caught in the crossfire.”
“Understood.”
Jang Sam now understood — yesterday’s incident had only been the prelude. That dead man was just bait.
He felt both terrified and strangely curious.
Raising his head just slightly, he thought, ‘Everywhere I look… the martial world.’
‘I’m going to lose my mind.’
Then, the assassin waiting openly at the table spoke.
“Master, you’re here.”
“Oh, did you wait long?”
“Just arrived.”
Jang Sam couldn’t help but look up. The fearless Black Cat Hall Master, who often went on walks and bought dumplings, sat across from the killer without hesitation.
“Jang Sam, bring me Dukang wine.”
“Yes, sir.”
He set the bottle down moments later and heard his Master say, “So, you brought quite a few this time.”
“Apologies. We had no intel on you. Should’ve started like this from the beginning.”
“I have more subordinates than you.”
“Numbers can’t stop assassins. Even if I die, you’ll have trouble for a while.”
“Jang Sam, go inside.”
He obeyed — but something felt wrong. As he turned back, the assassin had just grabbed a pair of chopsticks and flicked them at him.
Whoosh—!
The chopsticks veered midair, twisting sharply before embedding into the ground beside him.
Thunk!
Jang Sam fell on his backside, stunned. The assassin had tried to kill him — and his Master had simply flicked a hand, bending the weapon’s path.
What just happened?
In the next instant, invisible pressure rippled between them — two forces clashing head-on.
KWAANG!
Jang Sam gasped as the air exploded. The assassin crashed backward, smashing several tables, and finally drew his sword—
While his Master calmly sipped his Dukang wine.
Jang Sam stared in awe.
‘So this… this is the martial world.’