The Genius Assassin Who Takes it All

“Since I have a prior appointment with Master K, may I contact you after finishing everything?”

-Ah, a prior appointment? Don’t worry. I have things to do as well. I’ve received a production request from Japan.

“From Japan?”

-Even if you’re curious, don’t ask. I won’t tell you.

Since she was active in many fields, it wasn’t strange for her to receive requests from Japan.

Although I was curious about who made the request, it seemed unlikely I would find out even if I asked.

“Then I’ll contact you as soon as I finish this task. You’re still in the country, right?”

-Yes, that’s right.

“Understood.”

As soon as I returned to Korea, it felt like all the pending tasks rushed in at once.

Being busy was better than idling, but it was true that the schedule was running chaotically.

As time passed, more people were looking for me, and there were also more people I had to find.

This must be what they call networking.

When Kang-hoo lived as the original creator, he was an introverted person who rarely left the studio.

The only reason he ever went out was to meet with the management’s representatives.

That too ceased when the global COVID-19 pandemic broke out, giving him even less reason to go out.

That isolation also existed in Shin Kang-hoo’s life, but he was trying to consciously change it.

It was true that he struggled to do everything on his own, but no one could handle every single thing alone.

And if there were useful resources or people, it was only right to actively utilize them.

For that, proper communication and interaction were essential. Even if he had no outward personality,

he had to at least act like he did.

Every time I saw the name “Yuri Land,” it felt strangely out of place.

When Kang-hoo arrived at Master K’s hideout and stepped out of the secure limousine, K personally welcomed him.

Usually, Moon Hyeong-seo or Hwang Bo-hye would come out, but it seemed both were absent.

When Kang-hoo slightly tilted his head in confusion, K, noticing his thoughts, burst out laughing.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

“I can’t even tell who’s the master and who’s the assistant anymore. Both of them are gone, so I had to come out.”

“What happened?”

“Hyeong-seo is still training in North Korea, trying to level up… Bo-hye followed him there.”

“Is that kind of relationship allowed?”

“I promised them, after all. I told them I’d give them at least three months off every year for their personal growth.”

“With this level of welfare, you might want to consider who’s the master and who’s the servant.”

“They’re both Hunters. I’m a Hunter, too. If we neglect growth, we’ll be left behind. Come on, let’s walk.”

K extended his hand.

Perhaps because Kang-hoo was as young as Jung Yuri, K extended his hand warmly, as if seeing a grandchild.

But Kang-hoo stood still for a moment, staring blankly at K’s hand, as if time had stopped.

It felt awkward. He had never experienced holding someone’s hand tightly and walking together.

Neither as the original creator nor as Shin Kang-hoo. Warmth was always something distant from him.

Of course, Kang-hoo wasn’t so rude as to ignore K’s warm heart and kindness.

He grasped K’s hand firmly.

The rough calluses along K’s palm conveyed a brick-like texture, a different level of ruggedness from his own.

Embedded in that texture was a lifetime of everything—an existence that could not avoid having dirt on their hands.

K remarked,

“Your hands are pretty soft.”

“I’ve developed a lot of calluses where I grip my dagger, but the other parts are still soft.”

“You probably haven’t had many chances to get them bloody. Think of it as a good thing. Once they get rough, they never soften again.”

K’s face, gazing somewhere up at the sky in reflection, seemed to carry the weight of his memories.

There was likely a story behind his words. It wouldn’t be surprising, considering everything K had been through.

He continued,

“I need to talk to you about the talisman. There’s a snag. It’s hard to get a hold of colorless talismans. Even Shin-ryeong says he’s out of stock.”

“It’s fine. Please don’t feel pressured. If I thought this could be resolved quickly, I wouldn’t have started this job in the first place.”

Kang-hoo shook his head.

Congenital Mana Sensitivity was a long-standing, deeply-rooted ailment for Kang-hoo as a Hunter.

He had lived with it for so long that he never expected it to magically disappear overnight.

By now, he had gotten quite used to the pain and had become skilled at walking the precarious tightrope between thresholds.

Moreover, the very existence of Congenital Mana Sensitivity gave Kang-hoo a certain tension.

The pressure of time.

From a negative perspective, he could endlessly lament why such a penalty was placed on him.

But from a positive view, it meant he never wasted time in any battle.

It forced him to constantly research and find ways to maximize the efficiency of both time and skills.

In short, he could never afford to relax.

Complacency? For Kang-hoo, it was an impossible feeling. In battle, time was never on his side.

“I’m doing my best, so I’d appreciate your patience.”

“I’m already grateful just for your concern about my problem. Truly.”

Kang-hoo bowed his head.

K was genuinely worried about his Mana Sensitivity. Kang-hoo could feel his sincerity.

It wasn’t easy for someone to think about another’s problem as if it were their own. People were inherently selfish.

So, he was grateful for K’s concern, even though it came with a sense of guilt.

“By the way, I saw the news from Japan. Looks like you tangled with a madman. Are you going to be okay?”

“Who are you referring to?”

If only there were just one madman.

Kang-hoo had crossed paths with quite a few people who had blood on their hands, so he had to ask who.

There was Cha So-hyeok, members of the Touushi Guild, and then there were Yuji and Kenji.

Now that I think about it, I’ve dealt with quite a few people. Thanks to that, I’ve gained quite a bit.

“I’m talking about Ishihara Yuji, the wanted criminal classified as Grade 1 by the public safety bureaus of Korea, China, and Japan.”

“I just wanted to make sure that if he could stab others, he should be aware that a blade could also end up in his own body.”

“Haha. He’s famous for his hit-and-run combat style, but you managed to land a solid blow on him? I was surprised.”

“Well, the situation worked out in my favor, allowing me to hit him. I’m not sure about a direct confrontation, though.”

“I heard he was seriously injured? Recently, you’re the first one to inflict such a severe wound on Yuji.”

“If he’s still alive, I doubt he’s getting proper treatment. He was completely unguarded when it happened.”

Kang-hoo was certain that Yuji had survived. This was because the constellation plunder hadn’t occurred.

If Yuji had died later, all of his constellation contracts would have been transferred to Kang-hoo.

But that hadn’t happened.

This meant Yuji must have been healed by some other means.

There’s no way a wanted criminal would reveal his face at a hospital or receive treatment from a healer like An Yeong-ho.

The conclusion is obvious.

Yuji must have sought help from a hunter who dabbled in black magic, someone who had stepped into the gray or black zone.

In that case…

The next time I face Yuji, I’ll have a strategy.

There’s a way to exploit the ‘weakness’ that a hunter who has exposed his body to a black mage inevitably develops.

Kang-hoo already had it in mind.

“Do you think you’ll be okay?”

“Yes. It won’t be easy, but I’ve already sketched out how to deal with him.”

“As expected, you always have a plan. Heh.”

K smiled and patted Kang-hoo on the shoulder, a gesture of confidence and encouragement.

Some time later…

In K’s private workshop, Kang-hoo looked at a large map.

It was a detailed map, focusing on the northern areas, with Yuri Land at its center.

Instead of a satellite image, the map was drawn in 3D, and the reason was simple:

When satellite images were taken of North Korea, they came out blurry, making identification impossible.

Even drones often crashed due to unknown interference or distortion.

As a result, despite being in the 21st century, they were stuck using a half-hand-drawn map.

K pointed to an X-marked spot on the map. Kang-hoo could guess what it meant.

“This place has already been harvested for the Mad Solarkium. It’s useless to go back there.”

“All the nearby locations are marked with Xs.”

“That’s right. I marked them so we wouldn’t waste time going back to the same place. The next likely spot is here.”

“That’s definitely North Korea.”

“Exactly. It’s north of the Ground Zero line, so it’s essentially North Korea. This is the safest route.”

K’s finger traced a series of sharp curves on the map.

Whether looking at the map or the movement of his finger, it was clear that the route wouldn’t be easy.

K added a word of caution.

“Be careful. There’s a monster called the Swarm Queen in North Korea. Have you heard of it?”

“Yes, I have.”

“That makes it easier to explain. The Swarm Queen isn’t the only threat. Her hybrid minions are dangerous too.”

“I plan to avoid combat as much as possible.”

Though Kang-hoo said that to K, in truth, he was determined to find the Swarm Queen.

That’s the only way to steal her heart and break the seal on the random skillbook.

Of course, the skillbook could turn out to be something trivial, making the sacrifice meaningless.

But the opposite could also be true. Without opening it, there’s no way to know, so Kang-hoo was prepared to take the gamble.

“If it feels too risky, waiting might be a good idea. You can always send Hyeong-seo or Bo-hye once they’re back.”

“No. I don’t have that luxury.”

Kang-hoo shook his head.

He wanted to visit North Korea at least once.

In the original work, it was a place filled with endless unresolved plot points!

He wondered how all those unconscious threads were implemented in North Korea.

“Take the map. It’s just a copy, so don’t feel pressured.”

“Thank you.”

“By the way, there’s one more thing you should keep in mind…”

“Yes, please go ahead.”

“There are a lot of unauthorized facilities in North Korea. Since there’s no one to officially recognize or regulate them, they just pop up everywhere.”

“I’ve heard that quite a few criminals have fled there. Whether they survive or not, no one knows.”

“Exactly. The problem is that there are more unlicensed facilities owned by the Kashimar Guild than you’d expect.”

“Are they using it as a waypoint?”

“That’s right. In the past, the Osho Mercenary Corps used to kidnap and traffic hunters, passing them through that route.”

“Even though the Osho Mercenary Corps is gone, human trafficking itself hasn’t been eradicated…”

“Precisely. That route is still being used. Those facilities might be closer than you think.”

“You’re saying a confrontation could happen.”

“Yes. If you don’t factor that in, you’ll be caught off guard.”

Kang-hoo lightly bit his lip at K’s words.

He had no intention of picking a fight with the Kashimar Guild. After all, North Korea wasn’t his home ground either.

The problem lay with them.

To Kashimar Guild hunters, anyone who wasn’t a member of their own organization was viewed as a potential ‘product.’

In a lawless place like North Korea, where there was no public safety or observers, if Kang-hoo ran into them…

It was obvious how they would see him. Kidnapping and slavery, guaranteed.