Chapter 96. Before him lay the rivers and lakes.

The assassin gazed at the dagger stuck in the table.

'How in the world...'

Before he could even think of what to say, the target spoke.

"Is it the Swordsmen's Alliance, or the First Sword of the River? Don't deny it. Don't give me that crap. I knew from the moment you were looking at the building."

"......"

The assassin suddenly recalled various scenes of Yizaha.

The way he stretched lazily, the way he looked while holding a bun in his mouth, the look in his eyes when he was talking to the waiter and glanced at me, and even the expression when he sent the waiter in first to check on me...

He thought all of these were just Yizaha's ordinary behavior.

But that wasn't the case.

Coincidentally, the most important attitude for an assassin, as emphasized by the First Sword of the River, was the naturalness of blending into daily life.

Only after the assassin saw the dagger stuck in the table did he realize Yizaha's calculated actions. Even by the standards of the First Sword of the River, the person before him was clearly at a much higher level.

The assassin couldn't help but ask out of curiosity.

"Was Haomen an assassin organization?"

Such words slipped out of the young man's inexperienced mouth.

"You shouldn't look at the world with such a narrow perspective."

* * *

I looked at the assassin I was about to kill and felt annoyed. Killing this guy isn't a hassle, but I know this isn't the end, which is why I feel a bit annoyed.

To prevent such guys from coming to me again, I need to either destroy the Swordsmen's Alliance or uproot the First Sword of the River.

The assassin asked, "Narrow perspective?"

"Normally, when a young man talks rudely to a bun shop owner, the owner would look back. It's normal to look at a grown man with a bun in his mouth with disdain. And when someone sings a strange song, it's natural for people to turn around. If someone doesn't react to any of these three things, they're not an ordinary man. It's evidence of training. I can see trained people more clearly."

Only then did the assassin's expression change.

"I didn't recognize you as an assassin. I think and see things differently from you. Do you understand?"

I smiled as I confirmed the assassin's expression.

"Killing you isn't a hassle, but what comes after is. It's because the leader doesn't show up even after I kill, and kill, and kill. But I'll endure it. Enduring assassins is part of what a leader must do."

I drank a sip of the Two Rivers wine while looking at the First Sword of the River's assassin.

If we can have a meaningful conversation, I'll kill him after the conversation ends.

If not, I'll kill him right away.

But seeing an assassin who came to kill me after a long time, various words came to mind.

"In the old days, assassins and hitmen weren't much different from knights. Like Jing Ke, who tried to kill the First Emperor of Qin. They were respected."

"Is that so?"

"But you guys take money to kill anyone, so the world has changed a lot. Knights and assassins are now on opposite sides of the world. Once, assassins were knights. Now, assassins kill knights, and knights kill assassins. What do you think about that?"

"......"

"Have you not thought about it? Haomen isn't an assassin organization. But as the leader of Haomen, I will do what knights and assassins used to do. So, in a way, I'm also an assassin like you."

I made a gesture of slicing my throat with my hand.

"I'm also good at killing. We're in the same industry. So, how about I kill the leader of the First Sword of the River? That way, no pitiful guy like you will show up. What do you think?"

I took another sip of the Two Rivers wine.

The assassin, tense, couldn't drink.

It seems my precious words didn't register in his ears.

He was constantly gauging whether he was faster or if my hand was faster, which made me sigh.

Of course, I'm faster.

"Hey, most assassins are orphans. If you're not an orphan, they kill everyone around you to make you one. It's because having a family makes your emotions more complex, which hinders training. That's how most assassin organizations operate. So, guys like you lack the emotions to understand my words. I feel a bit sorry for that."

I pointed at the assassin with my finger.

"I should be the one to end your life. But you're not dying because of me; you're dying because of the guy who created the First Sword of the River. Understand that and die."

"That's the life of an assassin."

"Is it the life of an assassin to follow orders until death?"

"Yes."

"No one has to live like that."

"I've already shed so much blood; who can I blame?"

"Such a miserable life. What I want to know is the main base of the First Sword of the River. If you can't tell me, draw your sword. Because of you, my walk is getting longer."

The assassin's eyes dropped to the dagger stuck in the table.

"......"

The moment his eyes returned to me, I drew Heimiao from under the table.

My interpretation of the sword-drawing technique.

Swoosh!

I infused Wood Qi into the sword as it cut through the table, and when Heimiao split the table and revealed its teeth, I wrapped it with Flame Qi.

A red line appeared on the assassin's body, and blood caught fire, sizzling and burning. Blood spurted out.

Thud!

The assassin, who was trying to stand up with his legs, fell backward with his upper body cut diagonally.

With a thud, his upper body split into two pieces.

I shook the blood off the blade and put Heimiao away.

The assassin's face was more puzzled than in pain.

At such times, it's merciful to kill without pain.

I wasn't angry at the dead guy, but my bad feelings towards the First Sword of the River and the Swordsmen's Alliance piled up like a tower.

When my anger surged like a river, the waiter Zhang San rushed out, looking surprised.

"Master of the Hall?"

"Yes."

"Was it an assassin?"

"Yes."

I saw Zhang San approaching the body and said,

"Don't touch it. There might be poison in the clothes or mouth. You shouldn't touch the body of such a guy."

"Understood."

"I'll send my subordinates to clean it up, so leave it for now. Here, take this."

I handed silver to Zhang San.

"For the wine and the table."

"Why so much?"

"It's in advance. This will happen often. For a while, I'll come out for walks more often."

It would be more convenient to walk around defenselessly in broad daylight than to be ambushed while sleeping.

"Ah, yes. Thank you. But how did you know? I just thought he looked a bit strange."

I said to Zhang San, who looked puzzled.

"Zhang San, can't you tell just by looking?"

"I can't."

I pointed at the assassin's face.

"Can't you see 'assassin' written on his face?"

"Where? It's not written. He has a narrow forehead."

"You need to be able to see that to join Heimiao Hall. Ugly, miserable, useless, and a waiter who doesn't know the basics."

"Why are you suddenly criticizing me?"

"That's me."

Zhang San pulled out the dagger stuck in the fallen table and handed it to me.

"Master of the Hall, take the dagger. It seems you stuck the dagger in the table and then finished him off with a sword. That's a very advanced psychological tactic, right?"

"It's just a habit."

"Understood."

As I headed to Heimiao Hall, Zhang San asked,

"Master of the Hall, should I ask the subordinates? Can they tell just by looking?"

"If anyone says they can't, report them to me. They're lazy and need to be disciplined."

"Understood."

* * *

Waiter Zhang San looked at the martial artists coming out of Heimiao Hall with a sharp eye and asked the man who seemed to be in charge.

"Excuse me."

"What?"

"Does this person look like an assassin? He looks ordinary."

The man in charge, looking at Zhang San, replied with a disdainful expression.

"Can't you tell just by looking? Can't you?"

"......Yes?"

"Can't you? Oh, what a miserable guy."

"But when did you see me? I am miserable, but..."

The man suddenly put on a serious face.

"Aren't you from Haomen?"

"Me?"

"Aren't you the one who doesn't take bribes like before?"

"Yes."

"Then you're from Haomen."

"Ah, I see."

The man pointed at himself with his thumb.

"It's me."

"What is it?"

"I'm the Chief of Haomen, the second-in-command, the man who laid the foundation of Haomen with our Master from the early days, Chae Sung-tae, the First Sword of the Sun."

Zhang San bowed slightly without showing much surprise.

"Nice to meet you, Chief. So, you can tell if someone is an assassin just by looking at their face."

Chae Sung-tae nodded.

"That's me."

Zhang San looked at Chae Sung-tae and thought to himself,

'This fraud is imitating the Master of the Hall... How did he become the second-in-command? He just looks like a guy who loiters around the neighborhood.'

Chae Sung-tae said,

"Why are you looking at me like that? What a naive waiter."

"No, no. That's the Master of the Hall's unique way of speaking. Please don't do it. It's uncomfortable to hear."

"This guy..."

Chae Sung-tae was about to retort, but the brothers of Heimiao Hall burst into laughter, so he closed his mouth. Feeling a bit embarrassed, he looked at the body being carried away and said to the martial artists of Heimiao Hall,

"Brothers, the body might be poisoned, so let's burn it in a quiet place."

"Understood, Chief."

Chae Sung-tae then looked back at Zhang San and asked,

"What's your name?"

"Zhang San."

"Your fellow assassins might come to check how their comrade died here. Try to find out."

"Find out and report?"

"No, just find out. Don't do anything dangerous. You'll be able to tell by the similar atmosphere to the dead guy."

"How do I find out?"

"Did you see the dead guy's eyes?"

"Yes."

"Assassins lack emotions, so their eyes seem to sink in."

"Oh... That's how it was."

"He's an assassin."

Zhang San nodded, looking at Chae Sung-tae with admiration.

"Indeed, you are the Chief. Come for a drink sometime."

Chae Sung-tae, heading somewhere with the brothers of Heimiao Hall, replied,

"It doesn't work. Where are you trying to sell?"

Zhang San, crossing his arms, looked at Chae Sung-tae's back.

'This guy seems both smart and stupid, which is quite interesting. A fraud, a loiterer, a waiter-ignorer, a jerk...'

* * *

For the second day, Zhang San sat outside, crossing his arms and glaring at passersby.

'Are you an assassin? No, you're not. Are you an assassin? Your eyes are like fish eyes. No, you're not. Are you an assassin...?'

Zhang San accidentally made eye contact with a man and felt a chill. His scattered thoughts were torn apart by a sudden surge of killing intent, leaving him with no thoughts.

'......'

It felt like he would die if he looked any longer.

'Real assassin.'

Zhang San quickly bowed his head and started wiping the table. The man he made eye contact with approached him.

"I have a question."

"Yes, please speak."

Zhang San looked at the man with his hands respectfully clasped. The man, who had a thin sword on his waist, examined the table and the floor and asked,

"About the person who died here yesterday."

"Yes."

"Was he killed with one strike?"

"Yes."

Zhang San, making eye contact with the man, immediately bowed his head again.

He understood what it meant to look ordinary but be terrifying.

He could tell just by looking, but he felt he might die here.

"Where did he sit?"

Zhang San pointed.

"There, no, yes, he sat there."

The man, who had 'assassin' written on his forehead, sat at the newly arranged table and said to Zhang San in a suppressed tone,

"Bring the wine the dead man drank yesterday."

"Yes."

At that moment, someone approached and whispered to the man who ordered the wine.

"Sir, you shouldn't do this."

"Step back."

As Zhang San placed the Wu Ling wine and some snacks on the table, the assassin, looking ahead, said,

"Waiter."

"Yes."

"Don't run away. Stay here quietly if you don't want to die. Sit in that spot."

Zhang San quietly sat where the assassin pointed, and the assassin was looking at the path where Yizaha often walked.

Suddenly, Zhang San noticed that there were more unfamiliar people in the street than usual.

A man pulling a cart.

A young man selling rice cakes.

A porter.

All of them had unfamiliar faces, but they had something in common. Their eyes were different. There were also other suspicious-looking men walking around the street.

With suspicion and uncertainty mixed, he couldn't tell who was an assassin.

As Zhang San carefully observed the street, the assassin sitting at the table turned his head and smiled eerily.

"Hey, waiter."

"Yes."

"Do you want to die right now?"

"Sorry."

"Act like a waiter. Don't get involved by showing off your sharpness."

"Understood."

Zhang San realized that what happened yesterday was just a prelude. The dead man probably didn't even know he was a scapegoat. He was both scared and curious.

Every time he looked up, he saw the rivers and lakes.

'I'm going crazy.'

Meanwhile, the assassin, who openly approached, spoke to the front.

"Master, please come quickly."

"Oh, have you been waiting long?"

"Just arrived."

Zhang San couldn't help but look up. The Master of Heimiao Hall, who often went for walks alone and bought buns, fearlessly sat across from the table.

"Zhang San, I'll have the Two Rivers wine."

"Understood."

Zhang San, after placing the Two Rivers wine a moment later, heard the Master of the Hall speak.

"Seems like you brought some lackeys today."

"Many apologies. I had no information about you. I should have done this from the beginning."

"I have more subordinates."

"How can you block assassinations with numbers? I'll be a bit annoyed for a while even if you die."

"Zhang San, go inside."

Zhang San, startled by the Master of the Hall's words, replied,

"Ah, yes."

As Zhang San was about to go inside, he suddenly felt a chill and turned back. The assassin, grabbing the chopsticks, threw them at him.

With a whoosh, the chopsticks, flying through the air, suddenly changed direction and stuck into the ground.

Thud!

Zhang San, in a daze, fell on his butt. The assassin tried to kill him with chopsticks, and the Master of the Hall deflected the chopsticks with his hand.

What was going on?

Suddenly, the Master of the Hall and the assassin exchanged force.

Boom!

Zhang San, his heart pounding, looked at the Master of the Hall and the assassin. The assassin, pushed back and breaking several tables, drew his sword...

But the Master of the Hall was calmly drinking the Two Rivers wine.

To Zhang San, the scene was truly impressive.

'This is the rivers and lakes.'