Became a God-Level Martial Artist

Chapter 17: Could This Be a Coincidence?

Puk— The chilling sound of a blade slicing through flesh rang out.

The Vice Leader of Deathshroud stared at Jin Seong-un with eyes full of disbelief.

At his feet, the cherished short sword he had treasured was shattered into pieces and scattered across the ground.

“Why did you stop?”

The Vice Leader asked.

The unreasonable, monstrous skills of this inn boy had suddenly been withdrawn at the last moment, leaving only a deep wound on his shoulder.

If Jin had truly intended it, his entire body would have been split in two on the spot.

The Vice Leader’s words were correct.

Jin Seong-un had deliberately chosen not to kill him.

He didn’t know much about the organization called Deathshroud.

But he did know this much—if he killed this man, more assassins would keep coming to bother him.

Worse still, the master of Deathshroud himself might even come.

“Chef Seo, is it realistically possible to eradicate Deathshroud?”

It was an absurdly calm question.

Both the Vice Leader and Seo Yu-gyeom inwardly clicked their tongues. In all the world, no one had ever dared to think of eradicating Deathshroud.

Neither the Murim Alliance, the Nine Sects One Gang, the Five Great Clans—nor even the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult—could accomplish such a thing.

“No. No one knows how many assassins Deathshroud has, how many branches there are, or even who its master is.”

In other words, to eradicate Deathshroud, one would have to scour every corner of the Central Plains like a fine-toothed comb for the rest of their life.

That was a burden even Jin Seong-un would find difficult.

Jin nodded, then looked at the Vice Leader and asked,

“Don’t you intend to go back?”

It was the best option.

Of course, he didn’t think the man would accept it.

If he stubbornly refused, then it would be right to kill even the Vice Leader here and now. Even if he was Seo’s teacher, there would be no helping it.

The Vice Leader stepped back and staunched the bleeding from his deeply cut shoulder.

The situation was so humiliating that a hollow laugh escaped him. That he, who had survived for decades in the world of assassins, was being treated this way by two martial artists barely in their twenties.

The Vice Leader fixed his gaze on Seo Yu-gyeom.

Not only was he without a mask or dark assassin’s robe, but it seemed he had no poison pellets or hidden weapons in his clothes.

To make matters worse, the dagger he held tightly gave off nothing but the fishy smell of seafood.

He looked every bit the chef.

“You truly mean to give up the path of an assassin?”

“Yes.”

Seo Yu-gyeom no longer addressed him with honorifics, revealing that his heart had completely left Deathshroud.

The Vice Leader didn’t mind. Titles and speech patterns were never important among assassins anyway.

“Can you bear your fate?”

The Heaven-Slaying Star.

It was never a blessing. It was a dreadful curse, a punishment from the heavens. To have a constitution that would drive one insane if one didn’t kill.

And to make it worse, the heavens had granted martial talent enough to kill endlessly. If this wasn’t a curse, what was it?

“To be honest, I’m not confident. But if I do this, the story changes.”

Seo Yu-gyeom looked between the Vice Leader and Jin Seong-un. His usual playful and light demeanor was gone.

Wearing a more serious expression than ever, he suddenly fell to his knees.

“Vice Leader, thank you for teaching me all this time. I truly considered you my master. And Jin Seong-un—”

Seo Yu-gyeom’s eyes met Jin’s.

Seo looked determined, while Jin, as always, seemed calm—almost dry.

“…If I ever lose control of my killing intent and go mad, then with that very sword you used to strike down even the Vice Leader of Deathshroud, kill me in one blow. Only if you promise me this can I stay in the inn with peace of mind.”

“I will.”

“That was a bit too fast of an answer.”

Seo felt a little hurt.

But Jin continued, unfazed.

“If your knife is turned toward a person instead of food, how can you still call yourself a chef? I consider you a friend, Chef Seo, but I’ve never accepted an assassin consumed by killing intent as my friend.”

In other words, if he went mad and rampaged, he would no longer be a friend but a monster, and Jin would gladly kill him.

It was such a chilling statement that Seo Yu-gyeom swallowed hard, especially after having seen Jin’s martial skills earlier.

“Then… am I your friend?”

“Strictly speaking, since I’m the innkeeper and you’re the chef, I hold a bit more authority… but yes, you’re my friend.”

After subtly flaunting his authority as the innkeeper, Jin conceded. He had shared many drinks and conversations with Seo.

He’d had very few people he could speak to openly in his life, and among his peers, Seo was the first. How could he not be a friend?

“Alright, we’re friends now. But I’m older than you, you know.”

“Since I employ you, let’s just stick with ‘friends.’”

Truly, the authority of an innkeeper was different.

It was not only a matter of labor, but also a symbol of capital and power.

By the time Jin was half-drunk on that sweet taste of authority, the Vice Leader shook his head.

“You two are completely out of your minds.”

Seo Yu-gyeom and Jin Seong-un both turned to look at him. If the man truly didn’t intend to give up, it would be right to kill him here and now to remove any future trouble.

Perhaps reading their intent in their eyes, the Vice Leader’s tone grew slightly urgent—though he still pretended to remain calm.

“There’s no need for me to block someone who insists on walking into the swamp of death on their own. I’ll make this prediction—whether it’s you, consumed by killing intent, who kills the inn boy, or it’s the inn boy who kills you… one of you will surely die at the other’s hands.”

“Vice Leader, if you’re going to show kindness, you might as well do it properly instead of throwing curses around.”

“……”

The Vice Leader, looking slightly awkward, let out a deep sigh.

In all his life, he had carried out countless contracts, but never had he felt this weary.

Was it because of the deep slash from the sword?

Or perhaps it was because, for the first time since becoming a Deathshroud assassin, he had abandoned a mission.

“Heaven-Slaying Ghost, I regret the time I spent teaching you.”

With those words, the Vice Leader pressed a hand to his wounded shoulder and turned away.

Seo Yu-gyeom stared at the figure walking away in silence. For some reason, his back seemed smaller than before.

Seo bowed deeply toward the Vice Leader’s back. It was a farewell to someone he had truly considered a teacher, and because he had received a kindness he could hardly believe.

The retreating Vice Leader suddenly stopped.

Without warning, he glanced back at Seo for a moment, then took something from his robe and threw it.

As befitted a master of hidden weapons, the speed and precision were extraordinary. Seo caught the projectile aimed straight between his brows with a crisp snap.

It was a dagger—specifically, the Heaven-Slaying Dagger the Vice Leader had favored. Forged from ten-thousand-year cold iron, it was chilling to the touch and as solid as a treasured blade.

Even Seo’s alias, Heaven-Slaying Ghost, had come from this Heaven-Slaying Dagger—passed down to him from the Vice Leader.

“The Heaven-Slaying Ghost just died, pierced between the eyes.”

“He’s still alive, though.”

When Jin Seong-un said that, both the Vice Leader and Seo frowned at him.

“It’s a metaphor, idiot.”

“Oh.”

As Seo clicked his tongue, Jin nodded. The Vice Leader, watching the two of them with a strange expression, turned once more and walked on.

As he had said, the Heaven-Slaying Ghost was dead. Only Seo Yu-gyeom, the chef of Seong-un Inn, remained.

While trying to steady his mind with that thought, the Vice Leader heard Seo’s voice as he fiddled with the Heaven-Slaying Dagger.

“With this, I probably wouldn’t even need to wrap it in knife energy to cut through a pig bone.”

The Vice Leader’s steps faltered for just a moment.

Should he take it back?

He considered it, but quickly gave up—it would be unsightly—and resumed walking.

The master of the Hubei Black Path, Southern Black Lotus.

Even the Wudang Sect, the Jaegal Clan, and the Murim Alliance in Hubei Province tended to avoid direct conflict with the Southern Black Lotus.

Naturally, it wasn’t because they feared them.

“I have always repaid those who offended me. Even if I die, I will take one of my opponent’s arms with me—that is the way I have lived.”

Jo Rae-ak, Lord of the Southern Black Lotus, spoke in a quiet tone.

The documents he held were filled with records of the Prosperity Association’s downfall, his son’s death, and the Yichang market being taken over by the Jingzhou Merchants’ Association.

Jo Rae-ak stayed silent for a while.

The chief steward sitting across from him couldn’t even swallow his saliva, keeping his head bowed.

Having served Jo Rae-ak for many years, he knew perfectly well just how dangerous the current situation was.

“Bring the tea.”

At his words, the servants waiting outside moved quickly.

Before long, the fragrance of tea filled the office.

Jo Rae-ak was unlike most Black Path leaders. He rarely raised his voice or smashed things in anger.

After wetting his throat with tea, Jo Rae-ak closed his eyes and let out a long breath—a conscious effort to control his emotions.

Clack—he set the teacup down on the desk.

A small crack had formed on the cup.

Seeing this, the chief steward lowered his head even further.

“They say some demonic practitioner slaughtered the Prosperity Association?”

“Yes, according to the reports, that seems to be the case.”

“What’s your opinion?”

The chief steward’s mind raced.

He could not afford to show the slightest opening.

At least here in Hubei, there were only a handful who had survived after earning Jo Rae-ak’s wrath.

“I think it’s plausible.”

“Why?”

“The Prosperity Association’s power was by no means small. Yet not a single one escaped; they were all killed in a single night. Even if it were Oh Jeong-san, chairman of the Jingzhou Merchants’ Association, it would be impossible.”

“That’s true. That bastard Oh Jeong-san’s skills are nothing remarkable.”

At least from Jo Rae-ak’s perspective, they weren’t.

The steward nodded and continued.

“Nor would it have been an elder from Wudang Sect or the Murim Alliance—they’d have no reason to.”

“So the Prosperity Association simply happened to meet with misfortune?”

“…Such things do happen in the world.”

Jo Rae-ak nodded slowly.

Thinking of his son’s temperament, it was highly likely the boy had provoked an extraordinary wanderer without realizing it.

And in a world where extraordinary wanderers were as common as grains of sand, it was entirely possible someone had been so enraged as to annihilate the Prosperity Association.

It could have been a Murim public enemy who escaped from the Murim Alliance, or a great demonic practitioner from the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult out on a pleasure trip.

In the Murim, the price of failing to recognize your opponent was always severe.

However—

“Did you drink yesterday?”

“Sir? No, I didn’t. How could I?”

“Then perhaps some misfortune has come to your family?”

“…No. I’ve been safe, thanks to the care you’ve always given me, Lord Lotus.”

“Then it’s simply that you’ve gotten old.”

The Chief Steward flinched.

In an instant, fear filled his eyes.

“L-Lord Lotus, please, give me just one more chance.”

“Did I not just give you two more?”

Jo Rae-ak refilled the Chief Steward’s teacup as he continued speaking.

“Don’t think of it as cruel. The Black Path is such a place. A world where, if you make even one mistake, the wolves come tearing at you. If I keep someone by my side whose vision has dulled with age and comfort, sooner or later, I’ll be bitten.”

Having said this, Jo Rae-ak gestured toward the teacup, as if urging him to drink.

The Chief Steward stared at it for a moment before carefully picking it up. His hands trembled so badly that the tea spilled onto the floor.

“…Lord Lotus.”

“Drink.”

Jo Rae-ak’s voice was cold.

The Chief Steward realized there was no way to escape this situation. The only thing left was one final request.

“Please… at least take care of my family.”

“I will.”

The Chief Steward closed his eyes tightly and drank the tea.

By the time the cup was nearly empty—

Crack—!

The cup, along with the Chief Steward’s head, vanished completely. On his empty shoulders, only the lingering shockwave of Jo Rae-ak’s palm strike remained.

“Is anyone outside?”

A subordinate waiting outside entered. He flinched when he saw the headless body of the Chief Steward.

“I’m not in a pleasant mood. Give the Chief Steward a proper funeral, and make sure his family is well compensated.”

The Chief Steward had grown too old to make sound judgments. But letting him go alive meant allowing someone who knew too much about the Southern Black Lotus to walk free.

Jo Rae-ak believed this was the best course. It was through such means that he had risen to become the overlord of the Hubei Black Path.

“Bring me the Black Division Captain.”

“Yes, understood.”

After the subordinates carried away the Chief Steward’s body, Jo Rae-ak’s gaze turned grim.

“There’s no way this is a coincidence.”

The day the Prosperity Association disappeared and the day the Jingzhou Merchants’ Association moved in were less than a day apart.

“Oh Jeong-san, you’re running wild, hiding behind Wudang’s back.”

It wasn’t his son’s death that angered him the most—it was having his business taken from him.

If he went to Yichang in person, he could easily tear Oh Jeong-san apart alive.

The problem was what came after.

Oh Jeong-san was, without question, an affiliated disciple of the Wudang Sect.

If Jo Rae-ak killed him, Wudang would be forced to act. In fact, just heading toward Yichang would be enough to draw their attention.

In the end, what mattered was justification.

To rise from nothing to this position, martial skill alone wasn’t enough. One needed the ability to shape the board to one’s advantage—in other words, political skill.

Already, dozens of ways to take back the Yichang market were forming in Jo Rae-ak’s mind.

Just then, the Black Division Captain he had summoned entered.

“You called for me?”

“You said your friend is a branch leader of the Hao Sect, didn’t you?”

“Yes, an old friend I’ve known since childhood.”

Jo Rae-ak nodded in satisfaction.

“Arrange a meeting.”