Chapter 308

In the world of assassins, there are indeed ranks.

Surprisingly, assassination requests are rare in the Central Plain.

Why? Because if you really want to kill someone, you’d just off them and bolt. That’s all there is to it.

The Central Plain is vast, and once you run, good luck finding you again.

If the corpse happens to be just some ordinary commoner, the authorities won’t even pretend to look for the culprit, so there’s no need to run too far.

Thus, the people of China have the wild mindset of “I want to kill” turning into “Let’s kill and disappear.”

However, if you want to kill but don’t want to run, you simply get someone else to do it.

These types of clients are precisely in the same league.

You don’t really need to hire an assassin for the same tier requests.

If the target is just some regular folk, there are plenty of useless lives ready to be exploited for free.

Usually, these losers turn up at gambling houses.

Some are victims of scams or unfortunate souls drowning in debt.

If it hadn’t been for Qing, they would’ve multiplied in Nagyeong.

And if the target looks even slightly wealthy or if it’s clear they’re not just asking for a commoner to be taken out, they move to the silver tier.

The room where Qing was is precisely that silver tier.

Then there’s the gold tier, where professional assassins—those who make a living off killing—come in for business.

It’s a pricey deal handled by an assassin organization that runs the area.

Above that is the special tier, but they don’t have a dedicated channel for clients.

Why? Because special clients are decision-makers from major factions or top officials, the crème de la crème, you see.

They simply greet each other and set up connections, so there’s no need for clients to come looking for a specific spot.

From Qing’s perspective, no matter how you think about it, this is information not worth more than a single silver coin.

Such ecology of assassins, if Je-gal were around, he’d have blabbed about it out of sheer boredom.

Hmm. Unfortunately.

They couldn’t pay the ransom, so they can’t save themselves.

And upon hearing this, I was struck by how systematic it all was. If murderers have a system, just how long have they been at it?

Off with their heads. Death penalty.

As a result, the two thugs, who were kneeling and trembling, wet themselves.

“Lady. Seriously. Why are grown men peeing in public? No, indoor peeing?”

“P-Please, let us go. I swear. I’ll be good, I promise!”

“Hmmm. Sure. Live well. Since you said you’d be good, I’ll let it slide this once. But make it twice, and you’re done for. You understand?”

“Yes! Yes! I’ll be good, I promise!”

But those two were in no state to feel gratitude; rather, they should’ve felt wronged.

Neither of them scored even close to a hundred.

For all their ferocious looks, they apparently behaved just enough to avoid being total failures.

“I don’t think you’re that bad, so I’ll let you off.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Thank you!”

Though their words were mumbled due to their shaking, hearing they’d be let go prompted them to bow instead of kneeling.

A knock on the door, and the thugs outside immediately unlocked the heavy door, swinging it wide open.

Included in the bounty were trivial details about how soundproof the room was, but the moment the door opened, the stench of blood and urine flooded out, changing the expressions of the thugs.

One hundred and twenty-one, one hundred and seven.

Close but a pass.

Though they left their weapons behind, Qing’s physical form was no different from a superhuman weapon.

Left is White Blood, Right is Black Blood.

It was a stunning sight unfolding from a single person who mastered the martial arts of the world’s ten great demon arts.

Hmm. The hand skills are definitely better from the Master of Dark Demon Arts.

But then, it was from the left, or was it from the right?

While Qing was scanning left and right, Seoliri gently grabbed Qing’s sleeve, leading the way.

Seoliri was subtly helpful.

As Qing moved ahead, corpses lined the underground hall. Thugs guarding the door and other wandering shadows.

Of course, a few of them were still alive.

“Ah! Wait, no, don’t! Gunyongi, hold on! Let him go. I’ll spare him.”

The third-rate thug, who had been grabbing and joyfully now pounding on Qing, seemed to question why.

But why hit him with a fist when you could just freeze him?

“Shh. He’s fine, go for that one. No, hit him.”

“Yes.”

Without questioning, Seoliri followed along, obediently doing as told.

Occasionally, when she didn’t dig her heels in, she was usually quite docile, such is Seoliri.

“I dislike being called Gunyongi.”

– And just like that, a rebellion!

But still, it seemed she had softened up; in the past, she would have shot back, “Don’t call me Gunyongi!”

There’s a massive gulf between “Don’t call me that” and “I don’t like being called that.”

“You’re using a pseudonym, just hang in there a bit.”

“I told you, I’m not Gunyongi.”

“It’s hard to pronounce. Gunyong. How about that?”

“You said it again.”

Suddenly a playful spirit rose in Qing.

Qing always had a mischievous way of showing affection toward animals.

But honestly, isn’t it too fitting?

You know, you usually call the slowest one in a pack a hole.

Gunyongi is flawless as far as flaws go; not a single blemish anywhere, truly a beauty without equal.

If only she wasn’t my type…

“It was meant to be an affectionate nickname. Gunyongi, cute and nice, right? Can’t you just call me Gunyongi?”

After pondering for a moment, she replied.

“Still hate it.”

“Why? Gunyongi, isn’t it adorable?”

“Not at all.”

“To me, it’s cute. Can’t you allow it?”

“…Still hate it.”

She hesitated slightly, and it felt like just a bit more persuasion might do the trick.

But she clearly loathed it enough for it to end here.

Thus, Qing continued down the bloody path.

Of course, “cutting a path through blood” means carving a passage with one’s own or allies’ blood and sacrifices, but anyway, the trail was lined with blood, whether from enemies or not.

Suddenly, turning the corner, a dazzling golden door stood prominently in sight.

The cries of the previous clerk? The mediator? echoed in memory.

Wow. You could tell just by looking.

The guards by the golden door, seeing two bloody individuals, immediately shouted.

“What the hell?!”

“It’s me!”

“Intruder—”

Simultaneously, one of the guards reached for his neck, quickly yanking out a blade.

The moment Qing’s eye caught the shape, bang! He lunged like a cannonball.

Qing’s hand left a white streak of shadow in the air, and the guard, unable to believe it, stared at his own chest.

More precisely, the hand of Qing’s that had jabbed directly into his solar plexus.

Then again, all that mattered was that Qing yanked the flute from the man’s neck.

A small, black flute, just the size of two fingers.

“Whoa. This is it! Exactly how it looked! The moment I saw it, I remembered. Wow. All these nostalgic feelings! But they aren’t exactly good memories, are they?”

Qing cringed at the flute’s screech.

It was a filthy memory, one filled with the sounds that tormented him like some animal.

And yet, there it was— the same whistle those guys blew back then!

“Ugh!”

In the meantime, another thug was gently feeling around for a neckpiece when Qing hurled the flute at him.

“Ow!”

Normally, he would’ve aimed for the eye, but in his rush, it ended up crashing into the guy’s forehead!

The sound it made was remarkably loud for a finger-sized flute hitting flesh.

The impact forced the thug’s head back.

And at that moment—

A thundering crash neared as silver hair flowed, brushing against Qing’s cheek.

A chill mist bursting forth from the shoulder.

The blaze ignited with a fierce white frost, taking a dragon’s shape and shedding frozen scales as it wound around Seoliri’s arm, launching toward the enemy.

And with a pop, as the icy blast struck the enemy’s chest, the frostdragon dove into the foe’s body.

Whoa! What’s going on? Isn’t that way too cool?!

Qing almost forgot he was still gripping the throat of the guard he had just tackled, unable to suppress his awe.

The sight of the icy dragon soaring, alongside the strike from a beauty, was indeed an explosive scene of sheer coolness.

Had it been winter or raining, one might have seen the true form of the Ice Dragon, but Qing had only before witnessed Seoliri being dragged like a dog after running away.

Though he raised his score for vibe, one couldn’t genuinely view it as a formidable warrior.

Yet here’s our Seoliri!

“Huh.”

The thug who received a solid hit to the solar plexus from the cold might as well have been stunned more by the physical blow than the chill.

In that moment from the opposite shoulder, another frost dragon flared up, again hitting the thug’s solar plexus hard.

Crack! A sound so vivid it could be seen.

The thugs’ chests caved in, and they gushed blood, collapsing down.

Hmm. But isn’t that ice energy?

Shouldn’t it freeze, or something?

Why’d the ribs shatter instead?

“Ugh…”

A sound clashed with Qing’s thoughts, one full of pain.

Oh shoot, get your mind straight.

Finally realizing that he was still metaphorically cooking the last of the poor thug with the peak of humanity’s strength, he snapped back to reality.

“Whoa. That was epic, seriously! I thought you were a real warrior for a second. That was impressive. Just a little more respect for you, honestly.”

“…?”

Seoliri tilted her head.

“By a real warrior, do you mean…?”

“Let’s leave that aside for now, and what’s with the icy divine being? It’s frickin’ cool! And why does a dragon appear? If you use Buddha’s Physical Body, you should summon Buddha, right? Honestly, I feel a bit envious. It’s not for nothing that they call it Divine Skill, huh?”

Seoliri’s lips subtly curved.

Reading her expression, Qing concluded she looked mighty confident.

He wasn’t just blowing smoke; seeing it unfold, he genuinely felt envy.

Seriously, what’s with that coolness?

But, even though the icy dragon flew in, who knows what kind of effect it had; after all, it’s pretty decent just to look good, isn’t it?

She might only be pulling off this magic because her inner strength isn’t so impressive, like at the rookie level.

“Can you show me again?”

“Yes.”

With that, Seoliri summoned small frost dragons into existence. It appeared that she could even manifest multiple tiny dragons, as adorable little creatures twined around her fingers, spinning joyously, then pitifully vanishing into thin air.

“They’re supposed to be ice dragons, but it’s too hot.”

She hesitated to mention that her inner strength was too pathetic for it.

As she absorbed Qing’s envious gaze, she seemed to want to say something, but then—

“Let’s show it again later, okay? For now, we should finish what we started.”

With determination, Qing pushed the golden door wide open.

Inside, a scene unfolded where a gold-tier clerk had thrown his legs atop a desk, resting his head on his arms, looking quite surprised at what he saw.

He was so startled that he fell from his chair.

Apparently, he had been dozing off, oblivious to his comrades crashing outside.

At the same time, the fallen clerk’s flanking guards suddenly sprang into action, all faces masked, charging at Qing in unison.

But their speed hit as the clerk fell, instantly flooding Qing’s vision with enemies as though they sprung from the ground itself.

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