Chapter : 40
My Cheat Is a Status Window (40)
It’s been ten days since I killed Jin Cheol-shim.
Today, I absorbed the last remaining inner core.
“Whew…”
Finishing the great circulation of the Daeseung Banya Seongong, I let out a long breath.
And after absorbing a core?
There’s always something exciting.
“Status window.”
[Name: Dan Cheon (Black-Kill Gate Assassin No. 4)]
[Title: Assassin]
[Combat Power: 11,103]
[Stage: Peak]
[Skills Owned: Daeseung Banya Seongong, Shadowless Step, Hundred-Step Divine Fist, +6 more]
[Mission Owned: Become an assassin of the Black-Kill Gate and complete 8 orders]
[>View Details]
A bit disappointing.
This time, my combat power only went up about 100 points.
‘The stronger I get, the less effective mid-grade inner cores become…’
As my realm rises, lower-grade cores seem unable to boost my combat power much.
If I go beyond Peak into Transcendent Peak, mid-grade cores may become meaningless.
Still—overall, I’m very satisfied.
Because now, I’m officially a Peak-class martial artist.
The overwhelming gap between First-Rate and Peak that I felt when killing Jin Cheol-shim ten days ago!
Even if three or four First-Rate fighters jumped me at once, I think I could handle them without trouble.
Sizzle—
The incense burned away.
Time to head to Many Guest Pavilion.
Maybe I should ask them to change the code phrase from “thin noodles”?
Eating thin noodles every day… I’m getting tired of them.
Despy work or not, we’re doing this to stay alive, aren’t we?
If there’s no mission today, I should ask the waiter if we can switch to dumplings or something.
He looks like he’s got that kind of authority.
Leisurely, I walked toward Many Guest Pavilion.
Since I arrived on time, there were plenty of empty seats.
“Welcome!”
The waiter greeted me with smiling eyes.
This rascal… how old is he? Mid-twenties?
Maybe around my age.
He looks like a sly little fox. Heh.
“Thin noodles. Less vinegar. Extra ginger. Soy sauce moderate.”
“Yes, sir~”
Same order, same seat.
If there’s no mission, I’ll ask on my way out whether I can order dumplings starting tomorrow.
“Your food is here.”
Tok.
…Damn it.
There was a mission today.
Hidden behind the bowl was a crumpled scrap of paper.
The waiter threw it to me smoothly, just like last time.
With experience now, I naturally tucked it into my robe and mixed my noodles with seasoning.
Turns out nobody really pays attention to what I do.
At first, I was afraid someone would think I was suspicious. But nope.
Everyone was busy eating.
And the waiter is just too natural about it.
As long as I don’t panic, I won’t get exposed.
Slurp—
I finished my noodles leisurely.
Drained the soup, stood up.
“Good meal.”
“Yes~ I’ll put it on your tab.”
I nodded to his cheeky reply and walked out.
But does a tab actually exist?
Are they going to bill me later for everything I’ve eaten?
Nah… surely not.
Would the Great Demon Divine Sect be so stingy?
They’re supposed to be on par—well, almost—with the Murim Alliance, second only to it.
Walking along the main road, I slipped naturally into a deserted alley and unfolded the paper.
Tonight. East exit of Yueyang Pavilion. Midnight.
Make contact with a man wearing red-brown leather clothes, carrying a black peddler’s shoulder pack.
…What?
Not kill someone—make contact?
Isn’t this dangerous?
Worry immediately surged up.
After all, I’m not the real No. 4.
I’ve imitated his voice as best I can, but anyone close to him will know something’s off.
Mimicking speech patterns and tone is way harder.
You can’t fix that by stretching your vocal cords.
Is it someone who knew No. 4?
There was nothing like this when I took over his missions.
He said all tasks were assassinations.
All of them—high-value targets like Jeog Anseo and Jin Cheol-shim.
Never mentioned working with someone.
Have I already been exposed?
Anxiety crawled up my back.
Maybe… yeah, maybe.
These guys are the Demonic Cult.
Not some random small group—one of the great powers that shares control of the Central Plains.
But I’m working hard! Just overlook it already! I’m not even a spy!
Damn it.
In a way, I plugged a leak for them.
Those Byoungmun bastards were stealing intel from the cult, and I took the spy’s place and stopped information leakage!
Not that I can explain that…
Before I knew it, I was home.
“Haahh… this is a pain.”
I sprawled on the floor with a heavy sigh.
This mission feels all kinds of wrong.
Should I skip it?
Run away?
There’s no penalty for failure anyway.
No twisted organs, no mysterious illness.
Status window. View details.
[Goal: Complete 8 missions as a Black-Kill Gate assassin]
[Time limit: 1116 days 9 hours]
[Reward: Millennium Lingzhi, White Tiger Golden Pellet]
[Penalty on failure: None]
Millennium Lingzhi.
White Tiger Golden Pellet.
Ahhh…
Just hearing the names feels fragrant and divine.
The Hundred-Beast Clear Heart Dew I took from killing that Blood Monk—
I never got to drink it because it was used to save my older brother.
Didn’t it repel the vile sorcery of that bastard Jurtagen?
I remember clearly how powerful it was.
Millennium Lingzhi and White Tiger Golden Pellet must be similar.
No—maybe stronger.
Millennium Lingzhi.
A thousand-year-old wild spirit mushroom from legends.
Some say you need permission from a mountain god to harvest it, or that it appears only to a heaven-ordained fated one…
I thought it was storybook nonsense—but it actually exists.
It must be outrageous.
And the White Tiger Golden Pellet—what more needs saying?
A pellet made from the inner core of the divine White Tiger.
Golden Pellets—that’s what the notes in Jurtagen’s library said Mount Changbai Hermits could make.
Immortal monks creating Golden Pellets!
Powerful enough to push a Master Realm expert to the brink of death!
And they’re offering that as a reward.
How could anyone resist?
Yeah… I’m going.
If it’s a trap, I’ll figure it out on the spot and just run.
This is exactly what I learned Vajra Escape for!
“Midnight, huh…”
If I’m going, I should be on time.
I stepped outside.
Checked the exact time on the water clock at the city office, lit an incense stick, and headed out.
My heart pounded.
Feels way scarier than going to assassinate Jin Cheol-shim.
* * *
Changsha — Yueyang Pavilion.
One of China’s four great towers, overlooking Dongting Lake.
Built in the Song Dynasty, surviving the Yuan, thriving in the Ming—and beloved by many.
Sunsets here are so beautiful countless poets left their verses behind.
Normally, even after dusk, people carrying lanterns visited.
But since conflict broke out between the Demonic Cult and the Orthodox Sect—bloody incidents everywhere—visitors dwindled.
At midnight? Even fewer.
How am I supposed to find a guy in reddish-brown leather and a black shoulder pack when I can’t see a damn thing?
Complete darkness.
Just the cries of birds and insects and frogs.
Yueyang Pavilion was deserted—no lanterns, no lights.
Thankfully, my martial cultivation had sharpened my sight enough to walk safely.
No moon tonight, either.
Pitch black.
East side of the pavilion…
Martial arts are incredible.
A normal person would see nothing at all.
I channeled internal energy into my eyes—slowly, shapes sharpened.
And then…
I began sensing faint presences.
People were hiding all over the pavilion.
Doing indecent things at this hour… good grief.
Most of them were couples having illicit fun.
Probably adulterers using the darkness.
Even from a great distance, I could sense them. Fascinating.
Is this the world masters live in?
Looking down upon the world from above.
Well, I’m not that high yet… but still.
Hmm?
Reaching the east exit—someone was sitting on a rock.
Couldn’t see well yet, but I felt him first.
A martial artist?
There was a faint presence—barely.
Not enough to call him a real martial artist. Just… ambiguous.
No inner energy sensed.
Fizz—pop!
“!!”
Suddenly, sparks burst—light spread around him.
Looked like he lit a flare.
“Greetings. Are you Number Four?”
He stood up, smiling.
Small build.
Thick, muscled calves.
Friendly face.
Reddish-brown leather jacket and black peddler’s pack.
A classic traveling merchant.
“Yes. That’s me.”
“Pleasure to meet you. I am Yang Sucheon. I’ll be guiding you on this mission. I look forward to working with you.”
Guiding…?
Where are you leading me?
Surely not… Ten Thousand Great Mountains?
“Yes, Merchant Yang. A pleasure.”
“Haha, ‘merchant’? Just call me Yang the peddler.”
“Yes. Merchant Yang… then. May I ask where you’re guiding me?”
“Shall we talk while walking? We’re a bit pressed for time.”
“Sure.”
He set off, short legs moving quickly, and I followed at an easy pace using footwork.
“To explain the direction—we’re headed toward Sichuan. But not Chengdu. Our target is hiding in Chongqing, between Henan and Sichuan.”
“I see…”
Yang spoke fast, walked fast—clearly used to traveling.
But…
So it is just another assassination.
Then why assign a guide?
Normally, they just tell me where the target is.
Maybe because the target is outside Henan?
“You’re wondering why I’m here, aren’t you?”
“Eh? Ah… yes.”
This bastard can read minds, huh?
How’d he ask exactly when I thought it?
“That’s natural. The Black-Kill Gate usually works alone.”
“Yes.”
Right—That’s what I was told.
I almost had a heart attack, thinking they’d found me out.
“Just this once, there’s an item to retrieve. When you kill the target, I must retrieve the item and return to the main sect. That’s why I’m here.”
“Ahh… I see.”
A thief, then.
So the target stole something from the sect and ran?
I swear, I’m doing all kinds of jobs now.
“It’s urgent cargo, so they deployed both of us.”
“Understood.”
Yeah yeah, I get it.
I’ll cut the thief’s head off.
You take the goods home.
Then we go our separate ways.
Sheesh… made me worry for nothing.
Thought my identity was blown.
As long as that’s not it—fine.
Heh.
