Chapter 487: You’re Quite the Talk Among the Assassins
The seat Geom Mugeuk chose was right in the center of the inn.
As he sat down together, Myungshin inwardly believed that Geom Mugeuk trusted him.
‘He’s letting his guard down.’
Normally, in suspicious situations, one would instinctively sit with their back to the wall.
But Geom Mugeuk sat where all sides were completely open.
Myungshin looked around the interior of the inn and glanced toward several corners.
‘It was the right choice, in the end.’
Because he had prepared various devices along the wall, anticipating someone might sit with their back to it.
But with Geom Mugeuk sitting in the center, several of those devices were rendered useless.
‘Was it just coincidence?’
Surely, he didn’t sit there knowing about those things hidden in the wall.
Geom Mugeuk looked toward the innkeeper and spoke in a loud voice.
“Bring out your best liquor and the finest dish you can make.”
“Just a moment, please!”
The innkeeper stepped into the kitchen with an excited bounce in his step.
“The atmosphere here is quite nice.”
To Geom Mugeuk’s comment, Myungshin nodded. He still didn’t want to bring the Young Cult Leader here.
Rather, a part of him hoped that, even now, he’d suddenly stand up and leave. That some matter would suddenly arise with the Demonic Cult, and he’d have to go. Then Myungshin could carry out his mission, and Geom Mugeuk would survive.
But that never happened.
“Are you still upset?”
“Don’t try such ridiculous attempts at sowing discord again.”
Though even if he wanted to now, he probably couldn’t.
Geom Mugeuk made it clear, to the very end, that he was speaking the truth.
“What I said was true. It was written in the cult’s report.”
With a stiff expression, Myungshin stared outside the inn.
Did the Underworld really wipe out our family?
If that were true, shouldn’t I be digging deeper into that fact instead of turning my head away?
If that were true, shouldn’t I make sure the Young Cult Leader doesn’t die here? Shouldn’t I help the Young Cult Leader, fight together, and avenge my family?
Yet as always, Myungshin was turning away again. He was trying hard not to believe. Reminding himself of the possibility that this could all be a wicked scheme of the Demonic Cult.
‘Am I... afraid of him?’
His eyes shifted toward the innkeeper in the kitchen — the King of Killing.
Was it death he feared? Or the breaking of the bond he had with him?
Just then, as if Geom Mugeuk had peered into his heart, he suddenly asked,
“Are you afraid of change?”
“......”
“I understand you. Escaping something that once took hold of you isn’t easy.”
Still, Myungshin said nothing in return.
Perhaps, he thought, those words from Geom Mugeuk were the truth.
Just like how he never asked the King of Killing why he had saved him—maybe he had lived all this time just hoping this life would flow on without complications, without entanglements.
At that moment, as the innkeeper brought the liquor, his eyes met Myungshin’s.
“It’s been a while since you visited. How long has it been?”
“About three or four months, I believe.”
The King of Killing’s friendly, cheerful smile felt unfamiliar. He had completely assumed the role of the innkeeper here.
Myungshin had witnessed the King of Killing’s assassinations multiple times. But never before had he seen him so immersed in a role like this.
‘Today, the Young Cult Leader will die, without fail.’
And that wasn’t all. Myungshin's gaze swept across the room, where countless hidden death traps lay in wait, along with elite assassins stationed outside.
“Here, have some liquor first. The food will be out soon.”
Geom Mugeuk offered liquor to the King of Killing.
“Before you leave, have a drink with me.”
“Gladly.”
The King of Killing received the drink.
“How long have you been running this place?”
“For quite a while.”
“I knew it! The moment I first saw you, I had a feeling!”
Listening to their conversation, Myungshin stayed tense. He had no idea when the King of Killing would launch his surprise attack. His ambushes always defied expectation.
Now? The moment he puts down the cup? Or perhaps right after putting it down, as he pours a drink for Geom Mugeuk?
He knew just how fast the King of Killing could move. And he was here too. The moment the ambush happened, he would strike together with him.
Could that young Young Cult Leader possibly endure the joint attack of the Underworld's top assassin and its second-best?
Unaware of how dangerously close to death he was, that Young Cult Leader continued to engage in a carefree conversation.
“If you’ve been in business this long, you must’ve seen all kinds of things.”
“I suppose you could say that.”
Right now, Geom Mugeuk was full of openings.
Yet the King of Killing didn’t strike. He wasn’t the type to pass up an opportunity like this.
Was he savoring the moment? Waiting for a more dramatic climax? No—that man didn’t have such emotions. That was precisely why he was the greatest assassin.
‘Then why?’
Then Geom Mugeuk suddenly brought up something completely out of the blue.
“Since you’re so experienced, innkeeper, let me ask for some advice.”
At his words, Myungshin tensed slightly.
‘Advice? What in the world is he planning to say?’
It wasn’t just unexpected—it was shocking to Myungshin.
“Let’s say someone finally found out who their enemy was, but it turned out to be someone they’d known and been close to for a long time. What should they do then?”
Myungshin hadn’t expected him to ask something like that—especially to the innkeeper.
‘Could it be? Did he figure out the innkeeper’s identity?’
No. If he had really noticed, wouldn’t he have avoided saying something like that instead? Because it was so far removed from common sense, Myungshin felt genuinely confused.
The King of Killing spoke to Geom Mugeuk.
“That would depend on what kind of relationship it is.”
“One side is using the other, while the other side mistakenly believes they owe their life to them.”
Immediately, the King of Killing furrowed his brow.
“The enemy used him on top of everything else? That’s a truly vicious person. If it were me, I’d definitely get revenge. And if I lacked the strength, I’d hire an assassin to do it.”
Myungshin thought both men—Geom Mugeuk for asking the question, and the King of Killing for so casually bringing up assassins in his response—were truly remarkable.
And he was shocked by how natural the King of Killing’s answer sounded.
If something was weighing on your mind, could you really answer so confidently about taking revenge like that? The claim that the Underworld had annihilated his family was surely the Young Cult Leader’s attempt to drive a wedge between them.
But if what the Young Cult Leader said was actually true? Could it be that the King of Killing had even forgotten he was using me?
Of course, it might have just been a faithful answer to a hypothetical question, but right now, Myungshin's mind was in utter chaos—so entangled that a single poke in one spot might cause his whole body to twist in pain.
He still couldn’t be sure which side was telling the truth.
“Well then, enjoy your drink.”
As the King of Killing returned to the kitchen, Myungshin turned to Geom Mugeuk and asked,
“Why did you tell him that story?”
“Because only a third party can judge the situation objectively, don’t you think?”
“But your own words weren’t exactly objective to begin with.”
Geom Mugeuk looked at Myungshin.
“I understand. You’ve only known me for a few days, but you’ve probably been with him for decades.”
Geom Mugeuk took a drink. Myungshin tensed as he watched him.
Could that liquor be poisoned?
But Geom Mugeuk drank it all without the slightest suspicion.
“Still, sometimes a few days can outweigh decades. Because this side holds the truth, and that side is false. Even if you pile lies for a hundred years, they won’t match the truth of a single night.”
At the very least, Myungshin had to acknowledge one thing.
“You really are persistent.”
“I’ll admit it. Perhaps it’s because I’m that persistent that I was able to accomplish what was in your report.”
Myungshin’s gaze trembled. Because all throughout watching Geom Mugeuk say these things, his instincts had been screaming—This man is telling the truth. I’d trusted that instinct all my life as an assassin, so why was I doubting it now?
“And as I said earlier, this is also about protecting myself. Even if, in the end, you don’t trust me, I’ll at least be able to console myself with the fact that I tried this hard. I am a persistent man—and also a selfish one.”
Just then, the King of Killing returned, bringing the finished side dish.
Geom Mugeuk picked up his chopsticks and tasted the dish.
“Delicious! I knew my instincts weren’t wrong!”
“I’m glad it suits your taste.”
“Come now, have another drink.”
“I really shouldn’t...”
As Geom Mugeuk gradually opened his heart to the innkeeper, Myungshin grew increasingly anxious.
He needed to decide—now.
Would he trust the Young Cult Leader or not?
And if so, would he help him—or not?
The life and fate of both the Young Cult Leader and himself hinged on this decision.
If he chose to trust the Young Cult Leader...
He might end up dead. The King of Killing wouldn’t let him live.
But perhaps he could save the Young Cult Leader.
And if fortune favored him, he might even succeed in revenge and go on living as a decently competent assassin, known for accepting even one-coin commissions.
Just then, a sound transmission from the King of Killing reached Myungshin.
—There’s someone protecting him.
It was the moment that explained why the King of Killing hadn’t ambushed the Young Cult Leader, despite all his openings.
—His stealth technique is no joke.
Even Myungshin, second-in-command of the Underworld, hadn’t noticed. That was the level of skill involved.
—We have to eliminate that one first.
At the same time, a sound transmission reached Geom Mugeuk from Hui.
—He has sensed my presence.
The moment Hui realized his existence had been detected.
From the beginning, Geom Mugeuk had known the innkeeper was the King of Killing. In a place led by Myungshin, the only one who would be waiting for him was that man.
Geom Mugeuk took something out from inside his robes and placed it in front of Myungshin.
It was the same single coin he had shown before.
Both Myungshin and the King of Killing saw it.
Myungshin sensed that the time had come to face the issue before him—whether truth or falsehood. More important than the result was the act of questioning it himself.
He stared quietly at the coin, and at last, opened his mouth.
“Innkeeper, I have a question of my own.”
The King of Killing, perfectly immersed in his role as the tavern owner, was inwardly startled by this unexpected move.
“It seems this humble man is popular today. Go ahead.”
“Do you have a friend, innkeeper?”
It was a sudden question, but the King of Killing showed no surprise at all.
“I’ve been too busy scraping by to make many friends, but I do have one.”
“What kind of friend is he?”
“He’s soft-hearted and easily swayed—falls for others' words far too easily. But still, he’s a good friend.”
He must’ve misunderstood. Probably thought Myungshin was saying foolish things to the Young Cult Leader. Or maybe thought Myungshin had been deceived by him.
But for Myungshin, there was something more important than clearing up any misunderstanding.
“Have you ever lied to that friend?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Didn’t you just say it yourself? That he’s soft-hearted and easily swayed? Then surely, at some point, you must’ve had the chance to deceive him—even if unintentionally.”
“Well...”
The King of Killing fell into a brief silence, lost in thought.
At that moment, Myungshin sent him a sound transmission.
—Was it truly the Underworld that wiped out my family?
He knew it wasn’t the right moment to ask. But if he let this moment pass, the question would lose all meaning.
—There’s a shadow in your heart.
The King of Killing’s reply came.
Myungshin asked again.
—I asked you. Was it the Underworld that exterminated our family?
He must have known the man too well after watching him for so long. The answer was exactly what he had expected—and feared.
—Yes. The Underworld handled it.
Myungshin was surprised not by the terrifying truth, but by the fact that he wasn’t surprised by it.
—As you know, it was just a job. If not us, someone else would’ve taken it. And don’t forget—it was me who let you live.
Strangely, what enraged him most in that moment wasn’t the crime the Underworld had committed. It was the way the King of Killing admitted it so bluntly, so shamelessly.
Could something like this really be brushed aside like that? How little must he have thought of me?
But soon after, Myungshin understood. That’s just the kind of man he was. A man with nothing inside.
“Why did you let me live?”
He didn’t send that one through sound transmission. He asked it plainly.
It was the moment Myungshin made his choice clear.
The King of Killing didn’t respond.
Then, Geom Mugeuk answered in his place.
“Don’t try to attach meaning to it. Not even he knows the reason.”
Both the King of Killing and Myungshin turned their gaze to Geom Mugeuk.
“He was just a little boy, tagging along on an assassination with his father. A fickle heart, like any child—sometimes killing insects, sometimes catching them and putting them in a jar. Even if there was meaning to it, would it have been anything significant?”
Geom Mugeuk’s eyes turned to the King of Killing.
“You don’t know, do you? You don’t even remember, do you?”
The moment those words ended—
Shwaeeek!
A sharp gust of wind tore through the air.
Kaang!
A piercing metallic shriek exploded out.
A steel needle deflected off right in front of Geom Mugeuk’s eyes, soared through the air, and fell to the floor.
A single sword that had blocked it trembled violently before him.
The one who blocked the King of Killing’s thunderous surprise attack was Hui, who revealed himself by releasing his stealth.
The King of Killing and Hui stared at one another. The King of Killing showed no surprise—he had already sensed the hidden presence. In fact, his expression suggested that the attack might have been meant to draw Hui out.
Assassin and bodyguard.
The deadliest killer in the world of martial arts facing off against its most formidable protector.
Among such extreme opposites, these two stood at the farthest ends.
“The Cult Leader’s bodyguard.”
The King of Killing instantly recognized Hui’s identity. After all, there was only one bodyguard with such skill.
“You’re quite the talk among the assassins.”
A curious flicker passed through the King of Killing’s eyes—a subtle emotion laced in his gaze.
Even though Hui recognized him, he said nothing and merely stared.
It was Geom Mugeuk who spoke to the King of Killing in his place.
“So then—can you still kill me now?”
Despite the failure of his initial strike, despite Myungshin having learned the truth, and despite standing face to face with the Heavenly Demon’s chief bodyguard, the King of Killing showed no hint of panic.
His eyes turned clear. His killing intent was unlike that of ordinary assassins. Born devoid of emotion, his killing aura was as pure as snow and as clear as ice.
Just from that aura alone, one could feel it.
No one would be able to block the death this man brought so easily. It would be a brutal fight.
Tension crackled in the air—then Myungshin reached for the single-leaf coin on the table and repeated the words the King of Killing had said earlier.
“If it were me, I’d definitely get revenge. And if I lacked the strength, I’d hire an assassin to do it.”
Still, the King of Killing gazed at him with transparent eyes.
Slowly, Myungshin clenched the coin in his palm. This was the moment he finally confronted the life he had spent so long running from.
“You said this one coin commission was to protect you? No. From this moment on, this commission is for me. With this single leaf, I have accepted a commission—from myself.”