episode_0043

It is primarily favored by those with something to hide. Assassins are a prime example. For those whose profession involves covert killing, concealing their identity is crucial for survival, making it a natural choice. And among the many types of *bokmyeon*, there was one favored by the most assassins: The black *bokmyeon*. The reason for preferring black *bokmyeon* among so many was simple. It’s dark. It’s hard to see at night. Try wearing a black *bokmyeon* with black clothes. Your entire body becomes dim, and moving in the pitch-black night makes you completely blend with the darkness, becoming even more stealthy. Moreover, no matter how insignificant someone might be, simply wearing this jet-black *bokmyeon* makes them appear quite strong. Imagine seeing only a pair of white eyes and teeth floating in the distance in the middle of the night. Doesn’t it give off a strange sense of intimidation, a feeling that you’ll be screwed if you mess with them? That is the ‘Man in Black’. A person clad in black clothes and a black *bokmyeon*.

Cheongun whispered to Jin Cheonwoo, who was leading the way. “That’s you. Black Man Sword.” “It’s not Black Man Sword, it’s Black Killing Sword, I’ve told you countless times…” “Got it? The Black Man Sword wearing black clothes.” “This damn it.” Jin Cheonwoo gritted his teeth and walked ahead.

Cheongun looked at Jin Cheonwoo and admired him. “When those with fierce eyes wear black masks, their intimidation is truly something else.” “Why are you telling me that?” “Look at your eyes. Fierce and unruly, don’t they make you look several times stronger than your pathetic martial arts level? It’s as if you were born to wear black clothes. The Black Man Sword in black clothes. That nickname suits you perfectly.” “…” Damn it, that dog-like sect leader. I’m really going to break through to the peak realm, no matter how dirty and terrible this is. Jin Cheonwoo, his temper flaring, snorted and walked on.

Even with his temper flaring, Jin Cheonwoo suppressed his presence as much as possible. The method for suppressing one’s presence was simple. First, breathe shallowly, then touch the ground with the edges of your soles to minimize sound. Utilize the blind spots of walls and pillars, and perform all movements as slowly as possible. The same applied to breathing. Minimize respiration and pulsations to eliminate fluctuations in inner energy. The core of stealth techniques was to empty one’s very existence. Do not stir a single ripple in your heart, empty your mind, and entrust your consciousness to the wind and shadows. Suppress your inner energy, leave no footsteps on the ground, and even intentionally blend your breathing with the sound of the wind so it cannot be heard.

“This way.” “Good.” Cheongun and Jin Cheonwoo strode forward, climbed the wall, and ascended to the roof. They leaped lightly from roof to roof. Moving only through shaded areas untouched by light, their jet-black attire blended into the darkness, leaving no shadow behind. Just then, a patrol guard appeared in the corridor ahead.

“Sect Leader-nim, wait a moment.” “What is it?” “There’s a patrol over there.” “Is that so?” Jin Cheonwoo nodded. In such cases, there was no need to cause a disturbance. It was merely a matter of hiding their presence and passing through the guard’s blind spot. He was about to turn and relay this to the Sect Leader-nim when—

“An enemy.” *Whizz!* A blue light flashed in the air instantly. Its identity was a shadow dart thrown by Cheongun. The patrol guard, belatedly sensing something amiss, tried to dodge but couldn’t. Who would have expected a dart to suddenly fly at them in the dead of night? As a result, the dart thrown by Cheongun pierced the exact center of the guard’s glabella. The man with a hole in his forehead soon let out a short death rattle, foamed at the mouth, and collapsed with a thud.

Jin Cheonwoo, startled, whispered. “Damn it, what do we do if you kill him?!” “The dead tell no tales.” “No, it’s not over just because he’s dead…” Before Jin Cheonwoo could finish his sentence, another man passing by discovered his fallen comrade, bent down, and shook his shoulder. Of course, shaking a dead man wouldn’t make him get up. He soon checked the pulse, realized the man was dead, and, startled, began to look around.

Just as Jin Cheonwoo was about to scold Cheongun about what they would do now. “Another one appeared.” Along with those words, he threw another dart. With an unbelievably accurate hit, the dart once again pierced the man’s glabella precisely. However, perhaps because of the man’s large physique, there was a slightly louder sound as he crumpled to the floor. Perhaps because of that, hurried footsteps were heard. It was a rather ambiguous sound, but eight martial artists were rushing over to investigate.

Jin Cheonwoo swallowed hard and tried to persuade Cheongun. “Sect Leader-nim, we should at least retreat now…” But Cheongun was not one to heed his pleas. Cheongun simply gripped eight darts in both hands and raised his arms to shoulder height, ready to swing them. “There are quite a few this time.” At the same time, Cheongun swung both hands downwards as if striking. Each dart, imbued with sword energy, sliced through the air and surged forward. The darts themselves were so thin, made no sound, and were barely visible, giving no time to dodge. The eight darts, laden with sword energy, successively pierced the glabella of the rushing men. Though merely darts as thin as needles, what would happen if the sharp sword energy imbued in them burrowed into the glabella and tore through the brain’s blood vessels? The answer: The brain’s blood vessels would be shredded. The result, naturally—

“Gagkh…” Death. The men with pierced foreheads lost the light in their eyes and collapsed with a thud, like puppets with severed strings. Even after that, more men occasionally rushed over to check the situation, but without exception, every single one had their glabella pierced by Cheongun’s darts and died instantly. At first, every time one man died, others would swarm out like cockroaches, but as he continued to kill them, silence eventually fell over the surroundings.

“…” Jin Cheonwoo was speechless. The process was horrific, yet the result was excellent. It had been a complete mess, but weren’t all the witnesses dead anyway? Ultimately, no one would be aware of their infiltration. Confirming this, Cheongun nodded. “This is assassination.” “…”

**** Jang Muyeong, the Shadow Flying Emissary. As the head of the Vimadae’s Chengdu branch, he was deep in thought. The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult. Though called a ‘cult,’ it taught martial arts, shared power to operate its organization, and extended its demonic reach to expand its influence in various places, making it essentially akin to a giant martial sect. Given its large scale, there were factions within the Divine Cult that acted independently, and various groups coexisted, competing for their own interests. Among them was a direct subordinate force to the Cult Leader. The reason for an absolute being like the Heavenly Demon having a direct force was simple. It wasn’t because he cared about the stability of the cult to the extent of having a direct force. It was to keep watch over any individuals who showed even the slightest hint of impropriety, by keeping them under his direct command. The Vimadae was no different. Among the many lunatics, the Vimadae was where those uniquely obsessed with killing and blood gathered. Such individuals had recently been hoping for independence from the Divine Cult. The first step they took toward independence was the Soul Sealing Grand Technique, which trapped the souls of living demons within objects. And so, Jang Muyeong, as the head of this place, had been gathering sacrifices to be used for the ritual. That was why children’s clothes and shoes were neatly arranged throughout his office, and why there were clear traces of bloodstains that had been meticulously wiped away in every corner.

*Knock, knock.* A knocking sound echoed. Jang Muyeong spoke. “Who is it?” “It’s the Vimadae Lord.” “…What?” Just then.

*Slide.* A sword blade passed through the iron door and poked out. Soon, with a faint metallic scraping sound, the protruding blade traced a square shape around the door handle. A moment later, with a tearing crack, the handle fell to the floor with a thump. And then. — *Crash!* When Cheongun kicked the door, the massive iron door weakly flew off its hinges and slammed against the wall with a bang.

“…” “…” Cheongun and Jang Muyeong exchanged gazes. Jang Muyeong swallowed hard. This was a master who could cut through an iron door as easily as slicing a radish with his sword, yet his aura felt remarkably ordinary. It was undoubtedly the realm of Return to Simplicity. Jang Muyeong asked. “Who are you?” Cheongun did not bother to answer the question. It was because he had encountered an unexpected situation. “He’s not a demon?” “What nonsense are you spouting, suddenly breaking in like this…” Cheongun stared intently at Jang Muyeong. The man was clearly emitting killing intent towards him, yet no characteristic notification window appeared. That meant the man was not a demon. This situation was unexpected. Then again, even in the original story, most of the Blood Cult members were from the Demonic Cult, but there were quite a few who weren’t. This man must be one of them.

— *Sling!* Regardless. Cheongun drew his sword. It wasn’t the Red Night Sword. It was a brand new, hot-off-the-press ultimate weapon he had just acquired. The moment he drew the sword, a blue window appeared, indicating that its characteristics had been activated. This was it. Just as Cheongun nodded in satisfaction.

“That’s!” Jang Muyeong’s eyes widened in horror at the sight of the sword. His face was like someone who had just witnessed their lover arm-in-arm with a strange man. “How did you get that?!” “I took it by force.” “Impudent! How could you, when the Demonic Leader is present?!” “Oh, that old freak?” Cheongun grinned. “I killed them all.” “You fiend!” Jang Muyeong’s figure vanished, leaving only a jet-black afterimage.

Cheongun immediately raised his sword diagonally to his left. As if on cue, the vanished Jang Muyeong sprang out of Cheongun’s shadow with a flick, then instantly brought his sword down on Cheongun. *Clang!* Sword met sword. Cheongun channeled his inner energy. The more inner energy he channeled, the more an eerie red aura pulsed and rippled around Cheongun’s sword. That color. And that uniquely ferocious aura. It was clearly demonic energy. But for some reason, despite being demonic energy, it lacked its characteristic malevolent aura. It was clearly jet-black. Jet-black, yet clear.

“…What is this?” Jang Muyeong looked at Cheongun with a surprised expression as their swords clashed. His eyes were jet-black, and the form of the energy he emitted, too—it was clearly the typical appearance of someone swallowed by demonic influence. It was natural. Wielding a demonic sword that had forcibly trapped the souls of thousands of demons without fear, he was bound to be consumed by the sword’s madness. …But how was he so perfectly normal? Even his consciousness seemed intact? Not only that. Jang Muyeong had been channeling his inner energy and releasing sword energy haphazardly since just a moment ago. But for some reason, the size of his sword energy wasn’t growing. No, to be precise, his sword energy was actually shrinking. His azure sword energy seeped into Cheongun’s sword as if being sucked in, then it became crimson, polluted, and only Cheongun’s sword energy grew larger and larger—an inexplicable phenomenon.

“!!!” Jang Muyeong’s eyes were filled with horror. To absorb another’s inner energy and convert it into demonic energy? As far as Jang Muyeong knew, there was only one such realm. The realm that all demons dreamed of, the supreme realm that a martial artist who mastered demonic arts could reach. ‘The Realm of Demon Transcendence!’ Just then.

— *Swish!* Cheongun’s crimson sword energy, which had surged to the ceiling, easily passed through Jang Muyeong’s shrunken sword energy, then severed his sword entirely. Cheongun said with a smile. “Your swords are amazing.” “You son of a…” — *Slash!* He was cut diagonally from his shoulder to his waist.