The Beggar Union.

The Beggar Union’s northern Henan Branch Hall.

A rope with three knots was wrapped around the waist of Branch Hall Chief Jang Hongnak.

Proof that he was a three-knot beggar of the Beggar Union.

Right now, he was groaning inside his office at the Henan Branch Hall.

Partly because Gong-eop and Soyak had come to see him, but……

Mostly because of what had come out of their mouths.

“……For this, we should be the ones paying.”

He let out a heavy sigh.

The Beggar Union was an information organization.

So it kept accounts for information that came in.

“A brother and sister cast out of the North Sea Ice Palace three years ago—then the older brother learns the Assassin Organization’s martial arts and attempts a killing on Mount Song…….”

“There is no need for you to charge us for information, Donor Hongnak.”

“Then, is there other information you want to know? Up to a certain point, I can give it to you under the Branch Hall Chief’s authority.”

Other information.

Both Soyak and Gong-eop had something they wanted to know.

“This young donor here has already been attacked three times by those who inherited the Assassin Organization’s martial arts.”

“Three times? Three times, you say? How are you still alive?”

Jang Hongnak’s eyes went round.

“Luck was on my side.”

“That’s not something luck alone can explain……”

“That isn’t the important part, Donor Hongnak. What matters is who is doing this.”

Gong-eop lowered his voice and struck the heart of it.

“Those inheritors of the Assassin Organization’s martial arts…… Hm.”

“Do you truly know nothing?”

Soyak quietly looked up at Jang Hongnak.

There was no way he knew nothing.

He was the Beggar Union’s Branch Hall Chief.

Unless it was the highest-tier information, he knew almost everything up to a certain level.

“……There are rumors.”

Gong-eop and Soyak tilted their heads.

Rumors?

For a Branch Hall Chief of the Beggar Union to call something merely “rumors”……

Beggars were everywhere, and more than half of them were Beggar Union people.

Their information network and organizational power surpassed imagination.

And a Branch Hall Chief was the one who oversaw northern Henan’s information.

“What rumors?”

Even so, it was more than enough.

At Soyak’s question, Jang Hongnak finally opened his mouth again.

“It’s related to the extermination of a few sects and clans.”

“Namu Amitabha.”

At such a brutal story, Gong-eop tapped his wooden gong and recited the Buddha’s name.

“Nothing complicated—there are people wearing black martial clothing, using the Assassin Organization’s martial arts. They kill the clan lord or sect master alone, then carry out extermination.”

Black clothing wasn’t especially valuable information.

How many assassins in the world didn’t wear black?

But the second part was unsettling.

Killing a clan lord or sect master was one thing.

But extermination……

That meant slaughtering every family member.

That wasn’t an assassin’s job.

“There are beggars who claim they saw it, but the credibility hasn’t been verified yet, so……”

“Wait, Donor Hongnak.”

Gong-eop stopped him.

Because an impossible question had formed.

“How did beggars see them? Aren’t they assassins? When committing a killing, they would have hidden themselves.”

“That’s exactly why we treat it as ‘rumors.’”

Jang Hongnak perched on the edge of his desk.

Then, chin propped, he smacked his lips as he spoke.

It seemed even he felt uneasy about giving out information that hadn’t been confirmed and processed.

Because something like this couldn’t be called proper information.

It was just hearsay.

And the Beggar Union didn’t normally deal in hearsay like that.

“From what we’re hearing, they use the Assassin Organization’s martial arts, kill the clan lord or sect master, then break through head-on and kill every family member before disappearing.”

“They killed them all? Head-on? Namu Amitabha……”

Gong-eop softly recited the Buddha’s name and looked at Soyak.

Soyak, too, was nodding.

“Do you two know something?”

Jang Hongnak sniffed like he’d caught the scent of information.

He had instinctively realized they had a clue that could turn that hearsay into real, processed intelligence.

“What will you do, Donor Soyak? Will you tell him?”

Gong-eop hesitated, then handed the decision to Soyak.

It was her experience, so it was right that she decide.

Soyak considered briefly, then nodded.

“Yes. I will tell you.”

*****

After hearing everything—

Branch Hall Chief Jang Hongnak looked extremely satisfied.

“Now it’s certain.”

Jang Hongnak nodded repeatedly.

Then he began wildly scribbling something on paper with a fine brush.

“The source is a disciple of Mount Hua Sect, and the guarantee is Shaolin’s Gong-eop. That means it’s now a fully secured fact—there is an organization committing killings by bringing in the Assassin Organization’s martial arts.”

“And they’re right here in Henan. And right now, they’re targeting this young donor.”

Gong-eop said it while looking at Soyak.

No matter how many times he thought about it, he couldn’t understand it.

What mortal sin had this small, fragile girl committed—what grudge had she earned—that people did this?

“……I don’t know why they’re targeting me.”

“By nature, a sharp stone is struck by the chisel. It seems your excellence has drawn someone’s jealousy.”

Soyak shrugged.

Because she knew that wasn’t her sin.

Jang Hongnak, too, watched Soyak closely.

He had already taken in the information.

This child was Cheon Soyak of Mount Hua Sect.

Winning the One-Branch Gathering only a month after entering.

Calling forth Sword Light at fourteen.

Dealing the Namgung Clan’s young clan lord a piercing defeat.

There was nothing to lose by creating a debt in advance.

“There’s a difference between searching for what you don’t know exists, and searching for what you do know exists. Leave it to us. You brought us information at this level, so this time we’ll move on our end.”

“Huh?”

Soyak’s eyes widened at the sudden favor.

She hadn’t expected him to step in this far.

“Is there more you need our help with?”

“……It’s possible we may soon learn their base or gathering point.”

“If you tell us, we’ll keep an eye on their movements on our side.”

“Please do.”

Soyak bowed politely.

Speech and conduct that didn’t fit a child.

Branch Hall Chief Jang Hongnak returned the courtesy with a clasped-fist salute.

“I’ll attach one carrier hawk for you. If you whistle, it’ll come down. If you tie something to its ankle, it’ll return to me.”

“Thank you for your consideration.”

*****

Night-Heaven Hall safe house.

Henan Branch.

No matter what anyone said, it was a shadow organization of the Namgung Clan.

They had hidden safe houses built in every region—several per province.

In the middle of one of them, Byeoksa Gok sat clicking his tongue.

“He failed?”

“Yes. It seems so, Hall Lord.”

He had expected failure.

There was no way he could succeed.

If someone succeeded on their first killing, they would be a Heavenly Killing Star—or something close to it.

But Number Seventeen was neither.

Collateral blood, but raised precious as kin of the Palace Lord.

How could he not hesitate at his first murder?

And when you hesitated, you failed.

An assassin who failed—and couldn’t even kill himself afterward—had to be silenced by death.

“Who will do it?”

“What…… do you mean?”

“We need to cut off Number Seventeen’s breathing. What will we do if he spills this place’s location?”

A Namgung Clan safe house was protected with even a Formation Array.

But the greatest safety device wasn’t a Formation Array.

It was the fact that no one knew a place like this existed.

Once you recognized existence, humans found it.

But if you couldn’t even imagine it existed?

Humans didn’t prepare for it, and they didn’t search for it.

“You said Number Seventeen still can’t get up?”

“Yes. It’s been two days now.”

“At the latest, he’ll be up on the fourth day. That bastard’s body is tough. So we have to kill him within two days.”

Byeoksa Gok slowly swept his gaze around.

No one stepped forward right away.

It wasn’t cowardice, and it wasn’t stupidity.

An assassin had to be good at measuring things.

Whether it was something they could do, or something they couldn’t.

Number Seventeen—Seol Yegang—was now trapped inside Shaolin.

A deep room at the center of a detached quarters.

And around it, Shaolin’s Second Generation warrior-monks were patrolling.

A killing inside Mount Song?

After Seol Yegang’s failure, Shaolin had raised its vigilance to the limit.

Now even infiltration would not be easy.

“Come. Who will do it?”

At that moment, a Night-Heaven Guest who looked to be in his late thirties stepped forward and spoke.

“Hall Lord. There is a clever plan.”

“What is it?”

“Why do we need to go in ourselves? If we only send one letter to Number Seventeen, he will crawl out on his own.”

Byeoksa Gok curled the corner of his mouth into a grin.

Indeed—he was right.

Except for one thing.

“Bring two sheets of paper and a brush. I need to write a letter to the caretaker of the Anhui City safe house.”

“Anhui City?”

Another Night-Heaven Guest tilted their head and asked.

Byeoksa Gok answered with an easy smile.

“Because that is where Number Seventeen’s precious younger sister is being held.”

Anhui City.

Where the Namgung Clan’s main estate was located.

The clan was enormous, but if someone came and went there, it could only draw attention.

That was why Night-Heaven Hall had imprisoned Seol Yegang’s younger sister in that safe house.

“He’ll know it too, by now. That it’s time to feed her some kind of elixir—any kind at all.”

And the other sheet of paper wasn’t for Number Seventeen.

Chapter 60

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