Chapter 31

The entire world was dyed in a golden light.

The rice, ready for harvest, rippled like waves in the wind, and the farmers wore happy smiles.

Their faces were tanned black by the intense sunlight, and beads of sweat poured ceaselessly from their bodies, but still, they were happy.

The harvest was not far off.

The end of the arduous journey that had continued since spring was in sight. Perhaps that was why the working farmers kept bursting into laughter. And so, they didn’t notice someone secretly taking the clothes they had left on the farm path.

The one walking calmly, having changed into a farmer’s clothes, was none other than Pyo Wol. He even had a sickle hanging from his waist and walked with a wide, rolling gait, just like a real farmer.

Because of this, even the farmers who saw him didn’t think he was strange at all.

Pyo Wol acted like a real farmer.

He meticulously imitated the farmers’ every action, every expression.

One of the survival methods Pyo Wol had mastered in the deep darkness was to imitate others.

The one who had taught him the art of imitation was So Gyeoksan.

So Gyeoksan came from a troupe of performers who staged variety shows. He was particularly skilled in the art of instantaneous face-changing.

He said that simply changing one’s face was not enough to immerse the audience in the performance. One had to act perfectly like the person whose face they had taken for the audience to deeply empathize, and the key to that was to think from the perspective of the face’s owner.

One had to act and think completely from the standpoint of the face’s owner.

Imitation was the starting point.

Through thorough imitation, one had to become the subject.

So Gyeoksan had only said it in passing, but his words were deeply engraved in Pyo Wol’s mind.

After that, Pyo Wol developed a habit of observing and imitating the actions of others. Its true value was now being demonstrated.

Even now, Martial Artists were frantically searching for him everywhere, but Pyo Wol himself was walking with the leisurely heart of a farmer.

Pyo Wol looked at the golden fields with a pleased smile, just like a real farmer.

He was genuinely in awe of the magnificent spectacle, the likes of which he had never seen before.

Though he had experienced quite a lot while wandering the Jianghu alone as a child, he had never once seen such a tremendous landscape.

Pyo Wol thought the sight before him was beautiful.

He felt a desire to become a farmer himself and live so peacefully. But he himself knew best how vain a wish that was.

On his way here, Pyo Wol had stained his hands with the blood of countless people. Most of them had attacked him first, and he had only responded, but in some cases, Pyo Wol had ambushed and killed them first.

As long as their blood was on his hands, a peaceful life would never be granted to him.

Pyo Wol shook his head, shaking off the thoughts.

He had only intended to mimic a farmer, but he had become too immersed.

Pyo Wol quickened his pace.

He wanted to get out of this situation as soon as possible.

It was when he reached the end of the farm path.

“Word from the Qingcheng Sect is that the bastard is moving west. Everyone, block all the paths around here.”

A group of Martial Artists appeared and blocked all the farm paths leading out of the rice paddies.

Pyo Wol’s expression hardened.

It wasn’t simply because they had blocked the path, but because someone from the Qingcheng Sect had accurately grasped his route and was giving orders.

‘I have to get out of here as soon as possible.’

If they blocked this place, other paths would also be guarded by Martial Artists.

He had to get out while the guard was still loose.

Pyo Wol approached the Martial Artists blocking the path, looking as calm as possible.

“Halt!”

“What is the matter?”

Pyo Wol looked at the Martial Artists with a frightened expression.

He looked just like a real farmer.

“We are chasing a great sinner. State your identity.”

“I am Yang Cheol, from the village over there. I’ve finished my farm work for the day and am on my way home.”

“The hour is still early, yet you say you’ve finished your work?”

“Yes! I’ve cut all the weeds, so I’ve finished all my work for today.”

Seeing Pyo Wol’s frightened appearance, the Martial Artists frowned.

No matter how fearless they were as Martial Artists, they couldn’t just treat innocent commoners as they pleased.

To them, Pyo Wol looked like a real farmer.

Pyo Wol had smeared mud all over his body and changed his face with Disguise. He looked no different from any other country bumpkin.

The leader of the Martial Artists, Gu Yeon-seong, carefully examined Pyo Wol’s appearance.

Gu Yeon-seong was from the Emei Sect’s Lay Family, and his outstanding Martial Arts and keen eye had earned him Elder Nun Guhwa’s favor.

“What should we do?”

The Martial Artists under his command awaited Gu Yeon-seong’s orders.

“Let him pass.”

At Gu Yeon-seong’s command, the Martial Artists opened a path.

Just as Pyo Wol had passed them and was almost through.

“Wait!”

Gu Yeon-seong suddenly stopped Pyo Wol.

“What is it, sir?”

“Then why is your sickle perfectly clean? If you had been cutting grass, it should naturally be stained with grass juice, or there should be traces on the sickle.”

“That is…”

Pyo Wol’s eyes wavered for a moment.

He hadn’t expected Gu Yeon-seong to notice such a trivial detail in that short amount of time.

Gu Yeon-seong did not miss Pyo Wol’s reaction.

“You must be the Assassin Satae spoke of. Everyone, attack him.”

At Gu Yeon-seong’s command, the Martial Artists guarding the path rushed at Pyo Wol.

While dodging the Martial Artists’ attacks, Pyo Wol did not let Gu Yeon-seong’s words pass him by.

‘Satae?’

He had faced many people until now, but no one had mentioned a specific person’s name.

Pyo Wol instinctively sensed that Gu Yeon-seong had come with a different purpose than those he had faced so far.

Originally, he had planned to escape as soon as his identity was revealed. But the moment he heard Gu Yeon-seong’s words, he changed his mind.

Sshhh!

The sickle that had played a decisive role in revealing his identity cut through the air.

“Gack!”

A stream of blood burst from the neck of the Martial Artist who had rushed in at the very front.

Pyo Wol had slit his throat with a concise skill, free of any superfluous movements.

Poong!

The man at the very back shot a firecracker into the air.

It was a signal that the Assassin was here.

Pyo Wol knew that Martial Artists would soon swarm in like a pack of dogs.

There was no time.

He had to subdue them as quickly as possible and find out what he wanted to know.

Shwaak!

Pyo Wol threw the sickle at the charging enemies.

“Not a chance.”

“How dare you!”

The Martial Artists used their Light Body Art to easily dodge the sickle.

It wasn’t a small Hidden Weapon; dodging such a large object was no trouble at all.

“You bastard! You’d be better off letting yourself be captured quietly.”

They closed the distance to Pyo Wol in an instant.

At that moment, Pyo Wol threw his body backward and flickered his finger.

A look of doubt crossed Gu Yeon-seong’s face.

Pyo Wol’s action seemed to have no meaning.

It was then.

Sssst!

A chilling sound of something cutting through the air rang out from behind them.

“Gack!”

“Keuk!”

The Martial Artists behind Gu Yeon-seong let out screams.

“What?”

When Gu Yeon-seong turned around in surprise, he saw the Martial Artists who had been following him collapsing, spewing blood from their necks.

What had slit their throats was the sickle they had just dodged.

The sickle, as if a living creature, drew a large arc in the air and returned, landing in Pyo Wol’s hand.

“H-How?”

At that moment, Pyo Wol threw the sickle once more.

Gu Yeon-seong instinctively swung his sword to deflect the sickle. The sickle, which seemed to be falling to the ground, shot toward Gu Yeon-seong at a terrifying speed when Pyo Wol flickered his finger again.

Attached to the sickle’s handle was a Silver Thread so thin it was invisible to the eye. It was the fishing line from the Dragon Rod Form that Pyo Wol had taken after killing the Minjiang Fisherman, So Tae-myeong.

The Silver Thread, made from celestial silkworm silk, was so fine it was hard to distinguish with the naked eye, and it was as sharp as any famous sword.

“Such a cheap trick…”

Gu Yeon-seong, finally grasping the situation, let out a roar.

He unfolded the Emei Sect’s Special Technique, the Wild Wind Sword Art, to meticulously defend his entire body.

But Pyo Wol’s real aim was not the sickle.

His left hand drew a Flying Blade from his waist and threw it. It was the weapon of a nameless Martial Artist he had killed while escaping the Celestial Net.

Pow!

“Keuk!”

The Flying Blade lodged precisely in Gu Yeon-seong’s shoulder.

Gu Yeon-seong’s stance faltered from the unexpected attack.

Pyo Wol did not miss the opening and used the celestial silkworm silk to control the sickle, attacking Gu Yeon-seong’s left leg.

The sickle precisely severed the tendon in the back of Gu Yeon-seong’s knee.

“Keuk!”

Gu Yeon-seong finally screamed and collapsed.

Pyo Wol climbed onto Gu Yeon-seong’s chest and wrapped the celestial silkworm silk around his neck.

“Gggghhh!”

Gu Yeon-seong let out a strange groan, unable to even scream.

The terror of the Silver Thread slowly digging into his neck made his face turn ashen.

“S-Save…”

“Who is this Satae?”

“Th-Gack!”

When Gu Yeon-seong hesitated, Pyo Wol put more force into the celestial silkworm silk. The silk then dug deeper into Gu Yeon-seong’s neck.

“G-Elder Nun Guhwa! Sh-She is the Sect Master of the Emei Sect.”

“Elder Nun Guhwa of the Emei Sect?”

“That’s right. I’ve answered, so my life…”

“Did Elder Nun Guhwa order you directly?”

“Not… just me, but all the Lay Disciples of the Emei Sect. She ordered us to help the Qingcheng Sect and be sure to catch the Assassin.”

“Was the Emei Sect always so proactive in helping the Qingcheng Sect?”

“Not really. We usually treat each other with indifference… That’s why I thought it was strange, too.”

“You thought it was strange?”

“That’s right. That’s…”

Gu Yeon-seong answered Pyo Wol’s questions faithfully.

His goal was to stall for time, one way or another.

Even at this very moment, Martial Artists who had seen the signal firecracker would be rushing over. He thought that if he could just buy time until they arrived, he might have a chance to survive. So he blabbered on about everything he knew.

Pyo Wol listened intently to his story, not missing a single word. Not even the most trivial detail.

‘So it was her. The cause of this whole mess…’

The fragmented picture in his mind finally came together.

Someone who knew Gun-sang. And yet, someone who held a sense of inferiority.

Someone patient enough to invest seven long years, and someone with the financial backing to handle a huge sum of money.

Finally, someone with a base in Sichuan Province.

Elder Nun Guhwa was a being who fit all those conditions.

There was no definite physical evidence, only suspicion. But Pyo Wol was confident his guess was correct.

“Over there.”

“It’s him.”

Just then, a group of Martial Artists appeared from the opposite end of the path.

They were the ones who had rushed over after seeing the firecracker.

Gu Yeon-seong grinned at Pyo Wol.

“Now that they’re here, you’re finished too. If you want to live, hurry up and let me…”

Slice!

In that instant, the celestial silkworm silk sliced through his neck like tofu.

Gu Yeon-seong’s breath was cut short, his triumphant expression frozen on his face.

Pyo Wol retrieved the celestial silkworm silk and stood up.

“You bastard!”

“Stop right there!”

The Martial Artists were swarming in.

Poong! Poong! Piiik!

Firecrackers exploded and whistles shrilled from all directions.

Pyo Wol gave them a quick glance, then started running in the opposite direction.

‘Elder Nun Guhwa, is it?’

She was the cause of this whole mess.

Elder Nun Guhwa’s ambition had driven Pyo Wol and the children’s lives into hell.

He was raised as an Assassin against his will and stained his hands with the blood of countless people.

Now, he could never return to the ordinary life he once had.

All the Martial Artists of Sichuan Province were chasing him.

Even at this very moment, the Celestial Net was tightening around him, suffocatingly.

Even if he shook off the pursuers right behind him, others would soon take their place.

The Celestial Net would never end until he was dead.

‘Even if I die, I will never go to hell alone.’

To bite a mad dog, one must be prepared to be bitten in return.

At this moment, Pyo Wol was no different from a mad dog.