Chapter 39
Chapter 39
“Hua, my dear child… run. Survive.”
“Whatever you do… swear you will not follow in your father’s footsteps.”
The lifeless silhouette of his fallen mother.
A father soaked in crimson gore, choking out his final breaths.
The boy, Ihu, snapped awake.
“……”
The horrific fragments of his past had surfaced once more in sleep.
Any ordinary child of merely six years would have broken down into desperate weeping.
Instead, Ihu neatly folded his bedding, his features remaining entirely vacant.
“Awake and reporting for duty.”
Stepping out of the dingy, deteriorating guest quarters and descending the staircase, Ihu presented his morning status to the innkeeper, who was busy scrubbing down a worn wooden table.
“Number Three.”
The man spoke the designation with a tone utterly devoid of warmth or empathy.
He extended a small parchment scrap toward the boy.
“Accept your orders.”
Taking the parchment, Ihu committed the written directives and cautions to memory, then stuffed the scrap into his mouth and swallowed it whole.
“Proceeding with the mission.”
Giving only that brief acknowledgment, Ihu pivoted toward the entrance.
At that very moment, the main door was shoved inward as patrons strode across the threshold.
“Innkeeper! Are you ready for customers yet?”
In an instant, an eager grin spread across the innkeeper’s previously stony visage.
“Ah, welcome, honored guests! Please, come right in! What can I bring you fine gentlemen today?”
Ihu threw a passing glance back at his commander, who had effortlessly slipped into his front, and walked out into the open air.
“Drum up patronage in the vicinity of the target’s compound. Watch for unfamiliar faces and submit a report on them later.”
Replaying the written instructions in his thoughts, Ihu navigated the bustling market thoroughfares.
The focus of his surveillance was the Yu Estate, among the grandest and wealthiest establishments throughout Jiujiang, and centered specifically upon the estate’s patriarch, Master Yu Hyeongsim.
He possessed no knowledge of why Yu Hyeongsim was being tracked. To be precise, he actively avoided knowing.
He sought to avert his gaze; he refused to dwell on it.
Yet no human soul could truly halt the movement of thought through willpower alone.
…They intend to assassinate him.
The realization surfaced unbidden.
A sudden shiver seized Ihu, sending a violent tremor rippling through his small frame like a spasm.
The morning nightmare rose up once more like bile in his throat.
His father’s parting plea: never take this path.
His breath grew shallow and frantic, until his lungs refused to draw in air properly.
No! I am not committing murder. I am merely obeying instructions so I can stay alive.
His father had been a professional killer who defied the creed of shadows by succumbing to love.
He had gathered a family and known a momentary sliver of peace, yet it all culminated in total destruction.
“Do not walk the same path as your father.”
Those final words were branded eternally into his soul.
It suddenly struck Ihu that, were it not for his mastery over the Heartless Art, he might have collapsed to the dirt and wept uncontrollably right there on the street.
Born to a murderer, hunted by killers, only to be captured by a syndicate of assassins and molded into an assassin himself.
Could another soul in this realm bear a destiny so thoroughly miserable?
Almost certainly not.
The bitter irony was that, despite dwelling on these harsh realities, he experienced no surge of sentiment, and not a ripple of sorrow stirred across his stoic features.
This was solely the consequence of the Heartless Art.
The Heartless Art (無心功). A meditative discipline that every slayer bred within the Nameless Killing Valley was coerced to master.
True to its designation, it wielded the power to shape killers by systematically severing their emotional ties to humanity.
Everything that makes me who I am… is slowly eroding.
The slaughter of his kin had once crashed down upon young Ihu like the shattering of the very heavens.
Now, that memory failed to provoke even a sliver of grief.
A pang of sorrow flitted across his thoughts over this transformation, but with every rotation of the Heartless Art, even that fleeting remorse melted away into nothingness.
I must abandon the Heartless Art. If I wish to hold onto myself. And yet…
He could not halt his cultivation.
Should his advancement through the martial art lag behind—if he were judged deficient in aptitude—
He would be cast away and eradicated.
I refuse to die. I cannot die. In accordance with Father’s wish, I must endure, no matter the cost.
If he cultivated the art, he severed his own humanity.
If he refused to cultivate, he would be discarded, which promised only death.
It was an unimaginably merciless dilemma to thrust onto such young shoulders, yet the Heartless Art even numbed the terror that such a cruel reality ought to inspire.
Perhaps that numbness was its sole redeeming quality.
“Wholesome, cheap fare served fresh at our inn!”
Calling out with a deadpan voice that contradicted the lively purpose of drumming up diners, Ihu edged forward inch by inch.
His course led directly toward the Yu Estate, the target designated in his orders. He gauged the hour by the angle of the sun overhead.
The patriarch of the estate will emerge shortly.
Master Yu Hyeongsim departed his manor at precisely the same hour each day to oversee his commercial properties.
Right on schedule, the compound’s heavy gates swung open, revealing Yu Hyeongsim walking out with a procession of attendants flanking him.
While continuing his flat street cries, Ihu quietly fell into step behind Yu Hyeongsim’s retinue.
The exact same hour, the exact same course. Not a single deviation.
Tracking Yu Hyeongsim once he stepped inside his commercial properties was an impossible task while acting the role of a roadside tout.
From this juncture, a different assassin operating under another guise would take up the tail.
Ihu wheeled around and directed his stride back toward their headquarters, the inn.
The moment he delivered his debriefing, he needed to resume his cultivation. So he would never be cast aside.
Just then.
“Aiyo, young master! Have pity and spare a single copper!”
Ihu’s attention jerked toward a beggar boy who had abruptly materialized before him.
“Watch for unfamiliar faces and submit a report on them later.”
A foreign presence. He was certainly not an itinerant who usually worked this particular corner.
Had this newcomer drifted in from some outlying district?
Ihu paused, mentally debating whether he was obligated to log this beggar as an individual of interest.
He looks far too healthy and well-fed for an urchin. Could this be a spy in disguise?
Even as the suspicion formed in Ihu’s mind, a fresh steamed bun slipped from a nearby merchant’s stand and rolled into the dirt.
“Aiyo! Auntie, this one touched the ground, so you won’t mind if I snatch it, right?!”
The beggar boy pounced without hesitation, cramming the bun into his mouth without bothering to wipe away the grime.
Observing the spectacle, Ihu quietly adjusted his deduction.
He is genuinely an urchin. Gorging on whatever filth he can scrounge up explains why he is so sturdy.
Ihu resumed his march, utterly oblivious to the fact that the beggar boy, cheeks still bulging with food, cast a sly grin in his direction.
The following morning.
As Ihu patrolled the streets to execute his daily surveillance, he caught sight of the beggar boy sprawled lazily beneath the perimeter wall of the Yu Estate.
A recognizable face. Or rather, barely recognizable.
They had crossed paths only twice, after all.
Has that vagabond already realized the Yu Estate offers the richest pickings in town?
The Yu Estate commanded the greatest fortunes in this entire territory.
Not only were they the primary landlords here, but their disparate commercial ventures were also thriving with every passing sunrise—a bloodline riding high on prosperity.
For that reason, they were notoriously charitable toward the destitute and the beggars wandering without shelter.
Well, if his instincts are that sharp, it explains why he eats so well for a street rat.
Just as Ihu turned the thought over, the beggar spotted him, scrambled upright, and began flailing an arm enthusiastically.
“Well now! Isn’t that yesterday’s little waiter! Are you feeling charitable enough to drop a coin today?!”
Ihu walked straight past, paying no heed to the beggar boy who approached him with such eager familiarity.
The urchin smacked his lips together in mild annoyance.
“Looks like your pockets are empty too. Catch you next time, then!”
The following day, and the day after that.
The beggar boy would lounge beneath the high walls of the Yu Estate, only to leap up and wave vigorously the second Ihu came into view.
“Young master… wait, on second thought, you’re definitely smaller than me. Little Brother waiter, won’t you spare some charity for your starving older brother?”
“Hey there, Little Brother waiter! Today is the day—just drop one little copper before you pass!”
“Little Brother waiter, that makes four days straight! Are you really going to walk past without tossing a coin today either? Just one copper!”
At that juncture, Ihu seriously contemplated whether he ought to bring the beggar boy’s persistent behavior to his superior’s notice.
Yet after prolonged consideration, he decided against it.
Having scrutinized the beggar boy from every angle over several days, he fit the exact mold of a common vagabond, through and through.
If I submit a report just because he is brazen, I will only earn a beating for my trouble.
His superior, the innkeeper, possessed a notoriously heavy hand.
Whenever matters went awry, a backhand would crash across Ihu’s jaw, forceful enough to tear the flesh inside his mouth.
Until undeniable suspicion arose, Ihu saw no reason to invite a beating by filing an unnecessary report.
In fact, that beggar might actually prove useful.
Ihu recalled the supplemental instruction conveyed to him just recently.
“Aside from tracking Master Yu Hyeongsim, intentionally draw his notice to establish rapport.”
“Mingle with the servants of the Yu Estate and discover whether any artifact in the Master’s private vault matches the specified relic.”
As was typical of men swimming in excess silver, Master Yu Hyeongsim’s primary indulgence was hoarding rare antiques.
His obsession was so intense that he regularly dealt with clandestine black markets to acquire pieces.
For Ihu, this development brought a small measure of relief.
What a blessing. It is not an assassination after all.
The designation of a collectible artifact meant their aim was mere theft.
Though the Heartless Art had stripped away the bulk of his human sentiment, the mere concept of taking a life still caused his body to shudder violently.
It was the lingering trauma rooted in his father’s slaughter and final plea.
He had concealed this weakness with desperate care so far, preventing discovery… but should his superior ever deduce this psychological failing,
I will instantly be eliminated.
No assassination sect would bother investing resources in a youth who suffered a visceral terror of murder.
Thus, he could never permit his secret to be exposed. Not until his final day among them.
Not until he had slipped the shackles of this horrific fate.
Steeling his resolve, Ihu extended an iron coin toward the beggar boy.
“Well, look at that, Little Brother waiter! I knew my luck was turning around today!”
“I need answers to a few questions.”
His phrasing was overly rigid for a young child. Ihu worried the urchin might find it unnatural, but the beggar boy’s cheerful grin never wavered.
“Ask whatever you like, Little Brother. No, scratch that—since you paid up today, you get to be Big Brother!”
Ihu began inquiring about the specific details needed to fulfill his operational goals.
“Are there any approachable servant boys? Personally, I like that older lad with the dark mole who looks a few years older than us.”
“Master Yu Hyeongsim? Ah, that man gives out coins just for walking near him. Such a generous soul. Suspicious of people? Never noticed anything like that, honestly.”
Having gathered the intelligence he sought, Ihu rose to his feet.
“Answer my questions like this next time, and I will hand over another coin.”
“Then you get to be Big Brother next time too, Little Brother!”
A string of days unfolded in this fashion.
Ihu utilized the street urchin to advance his mission.
Though the beggar boy was impudent, his answers were candid and provided the exact details Ihu required, making him remarkably valuable.
If only things could simply remain like this.
Fulfilling harmless tasks limited to observation and scouting, practicing his cultivation,
And occasionally exchanging banter with this street rat with whom he had fostered an odd camaraderie.
And yet,
Ihu’s quiet hopes were shattered without warning.
“Number Three.”
“Present.”
Just as Ihu prepared to step out into the morning streets to resume his standard routine, the innkeeper’s voice halted him.
“A special order has arrived for today.”
The instant his superior—a man who had never exhibited a shred of emotion—twisted his lips into a chilling smirk,
A sense of terror struck Ihu with such force that the hairs on his skin stood on end.
And that dread immediately materialized.
“Rejoice. The target for your very first kill has been assigned.”
A crushing weight dropped through Ihu’s chest.
He hastily clamped his trembling hands behind his back to conceal the shudder.
“The strike happens tonight. Assuming the operation unfolds as planned, you are to present yourself before the fleeing Master Yu Hyeongsim under the pretense of aiding his escape, draw him close, and slit his throat.”
The innkeeper laid out the tactical sequence, but Ihu’s mind turned completely hollow.
“Carry out your daylight rounds exactly as always. Watch for disruptions, and do not drop your guard for an instant.”
“……Understood.”
Ihu strained with every fiber of his being to maintain his emotionless mask.
Stifling his ragged breaths, he pushed his way out of the inn.
Only after trekking a considerable distance, approaching the outer walls of the Yu Estate, did he finally let his trapped breath escape.
“Hah… hah…”
Right at that moment.
“Little Brother waiter.”
Startled, Ihu lifted his gaze. Standing squarely before him was the beggar boy.
“Did something happen to you?”
“N-Nothing at all.”
He had fractured his composure so thoroughly that even a common vagabond could read his distress.
This was unacceptable.
Remote as the chance might be, watchful eyes could be shadowing him.
“Are you sick? Should I run and grab some medicine for you?”
“Leave me alone.”
Ihu shoved past the beggar boy’s outstretched arm and marched away.
The beggar boy made no attempt to pursue him, simply watching his retreating silhouette from behind.
The hours slipped away, and darkness blanketed the city.
“Number Three. Keep close behind me.”
Ihu followed silently behind the innkeeper.
They came to a halt atop a gentle ridge tucked behind the Yu Estate,
a secluded incline veiled by dense forest.
“The moment Master Yu Hyeongsim flees to this ridge, reveal yourself as if by chance. Then drive your blade through him.”
A short dagger was pressed firmly into his grip, small enough to slide beneath a sleeve, yet plenty long enough to pierce clean through a man’s vitals.
Shrouded by the night, Ihu bit the inside of his lip, desperately willing the fingers gripping the hilt to cease their shaking.
“Understood.”
Once his commander melted away into the surrounding thickets,
a frantic clamor erupted below, and the fleeing form of Master Yu Hyeongsim soon crashed through the brush.
“Hah! Hah! Help! Is there anyone out there?! Anyone at all?!”
Howling for rescue, the Master of the Yu Estate came barreling uphill.
True to his wealthy status, his rotund physique was completely drenched in perspiration.
“Save me! Someone, please! An attack—we are under attack!”
Ihu emerged from the shadows without making a sound, his short dagger concealed within his sleeve.
“Y-You! You are the boy from the Cheongang Inn! Why are you out here at this… wait, no… ah!”
His handler had ordered him to make it look like an accidental encounter, but the ruse collapsed the moment it began.
Staring at Ihu’s deadened silence, Master Yu Hyeongsim instinctively realized the truth.
“Could it be… you…?”
Before another syllable could escape, Ihu hurled his weight against Master Yu Hyeongsim.
Ramming the man down, Ihu pinned him to the earth, straddled his chest, and leveled the cold edge of the short dagger directly against his throat.
“S-Spare… spare my life. I beg of you…”
Streaming with a mixture of sweat and frantic tears, Master Yu Hyeongsim wept for mercy.
Ihu stole a quick glance toward the dark grove where his superior lay in wait, then dragged his eyes back down to the target’s weeping face.
“Hah! Hah!”
His respiration turned violent. Paralleling the ragged gasps of the exhausted Master Yu Hyeongsim, Ihu fought desperately to force air through his lungs.
To survive, he had to take a life.
“Do not walk the same path as your father.”
To survive, he had to take a life.
“Do not walk the same path as your father.”
If he failed, he would be discarded.
“Do not walk the same path as your father.”
“Hah! Hah!”
His vision twisted and spun. The internal energy of the Heartless Art surged on its own accord, flooding his mind with an icy chill.
Or perhaps it burned with the scalding intensity of touching bare skin to subzero ice.
“Hah! Hah! Hah!”
Even so, the deed had to be done. If he had any desire to stay alive.
The dagger wavered violently as it crept downward. Master Yu Hyeongsim squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a horrified whimper—
“Little Brother waiter!”
“Won’t you spare some charity today?”
“What do you mean, why?! Because you’re a good person, Little Brother!”
A chaotic storm of blistering heat and freezing frost tore through his meridians.
Ultimately, without ever thrusting the short blade into flesh, Ihu lost consciousness and collapsed forward.
“Tsk. I suspected something was broken in you. A defective tool after all.”
Watching Ihu slump lifelessly onto the grass, the innkeeper emerged from the dark brush.
The faint glimmer of relief that had flashed across Master Yu Hyeongsim’s face instantly plunged back into bottomless despair.
“Y-You are…! S-Spare me. Please…”
Paying no heed to the nobleman’s desperate pleas, the assassin muttered dispassionately to himself.
“It is a pity to waste his aptitude, but an unusable tool must be purged. How convenient, really. Master Yu, we will simply announce that this brat slaughtered you in an attempt to rob your coin purse.”
Just as the assassin raised the blade to drive it home,
“The only piece of trash getting thrown out tonight is you, you bastard!”
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