Chapter 39: Customer-Centric Mugeuksalbu
Mugeuksalbu prioritized their clients above all else.
If a client requested a natural or accidental death, they ensured no traces of murder remained—though the fee increased significantly, Mugeuksalbu never complained once payment was secured. Conversely, if a brutal death was demanded, they would dismember the victim or mutilate their face beyond recognition.
Their tenacity was another strength. True to their name Mugeuk (無極, "limitless"), they never abandoned a contract. Only the initial commission required exorbitant payment. Even if they failed, no additional costs were incurred until the job was completed.
The result?
Always a happy ending.
Though assassins might fall in the process, Mugeuksalbu tirelessly pursued their objectives until success. Choosing them meant peace of mind—no complications, no worries.
For this mission, four assassins had been dispatched. Given the astronomical fee, the job would be executed flawlessly. Arguing was pointless—even if the target themselves desired death.
“How thrilling.”
“Hey, at least control your expression.”
Juyang’s gleeful demeanor made Manbakja scowl deeply. They were here to kill one man, yet Juyang looked like a child anticipating a gift.
“Haha, why so grim on such a fine day?”
“From where I stand, you’re the one out of your mind.”
Honestly, everyone experiences moments of despair. Many claim they want to die. But how many friends would actually offer, “If you want to die, I’ll kill you for you”?
At this point, both the one seeking death and the one granting it were mad. The greater absurdity was that more than Beomhang would die today.
Juyang would perish too.
The second son of Eunhajeonjang, Gangbuk’s wealthiest magnate.
Though destined to inherit vast riches, Juyang had resolved to die alongside his friend from the start.
How could I live after killing my friend? I must die as well. This is both courtesy to Cheonhwaseogo and the human way.
Manbakja had heard these words during their first meeting.
With eyes serene enough to resemble Buddha’s, Juyang intended to fulfill his friend’s wish and descend into hell.
To discard such wealth and glory for death…
Manbakja gritted his teeth, irritation flaring even though it wasn’t his money at stake. Leaning forward, he hissed:
“How do you plan to die?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
Juyang smiled faintly.
His unwarranted cheer twisted Manbakja’s face further.
“Look at you. Fine, die on your own then. Just remember—I had no part in this. Die cleanly. Don’t drag me down with you.”
“Hmm, but who exactly are you speaking to right now?”
As Juyang feigned ignorance, Manbakja snorted.
“Bullshit.”
**
At that moment, Mugeuksalbu’s assassins located their target.
The eldest son of Cheonhwaseogo and his two brothers had just entered the bustling street, weaving through the crowd.
The assassins approached from all directions—east, west, north, south—blending seamlessly with pedestrians.
“Pathetic fools.”
Hugong stopped walking and clicked his tongue at his brothers.
While passing storefronts, Yun and Bumong spotted a wooden doll stall and sprinted over gleefully.
Seeing this, Songhwa—their sole guard—called out briskly:
“Young master!”
“Yes?”
“I’ll retrieve the two young masters at once!”
“Good! Go!”
“Yes!”
Despite her energetic tone and stride, Songhwa never returned.
She appeared to scold Yun and Bumong but soon joined them, laughing as they handled the dolls.
Was the act of seriousness necessary if this was her plan all along?
Hugong bit his lip and shook his head.
As he stood alone in the street’s center—
“Oho! Isn’t that Brother Beom of Cheonhwaseogo?!”
A voice rang out in the distance.
Wang Sohan of Daeryukjeonjang waved enthusiastically, chubby cheeks dimpled in a smile. Beside him stood familiar faces: Jang Ye, Dan Gangmu, and Ban Gyoin, all greeting Hugong cheerfully.
Hugong retreated half a step.
Hm?
Killing intent.
Amid the friendly gestures, danger lurked inches away.
Ahead, the source of malice was unexpected—an old woman.
She stood out clearly among passersby, leaning on a cane like any elderly lady. But she wasn’t old.
Her hunched posture and irregular steps hid calculated patterns. Teeth glimpsed through mumbling lips were too young. Though her spine curved, her musculature remained firm. Most telling was the truth revealed by Zilingyan (Purple Spirit Eye)—the art that pierced all concealment. Beneath the disguise, a middle-aged woman’s face glared back.
When their eyes met, she averted her gaze smoothly but maintained her path.
If she passed by, her hidden strike would land.
Could she be remnants of Seomunchu’s faction?
But the timing was too tight.
Juyang?
Letters between Beomhang and Juyang had discussed assassination contracts—but after transferring Beomhang’s memories, Hugong had summoned Juyang to Seogo. No reply had come yet.
Regardless, the client’s identity could wait.
Hugong narrowed his eyes.
As he focused his senses on the old woman, more killing intents locked onto him.
Not one… two… three…
A glance left revealed a limping man.
Right diagonal: a gaunt middle-aged man.
Behind: another assassin, revealed when Hugong pretended to glance back.
…Four? This is excessive.
The fourth was a youth in his late twenties, picking his nose as he approached.
A brat here to kill someone? Where’s the professionalism?
High-tier assassin groups like Salmak, Heukyeonbu, and Amhyangdan had been eradicated years ago. These must be newcomers.
As the old woman closed in, the other three lagged behind, feigning nonchalance.
You’ll die first.
Hugong activated the Wuxing Step, pausing mid-motion before rebounding instantly.
“Brother Beom, I’ve been wanting to meet—”
Wang Sohan’s cheerful approach faltered as Hugong’s figure blurred.
To onlookers, the Cheonhwaseogo heir seemed to vanish before reappearing gripping the old woman’s neck.
Crack.
Her neck twisted backward, body collapsing with torso forward and head reversed.
“W-What—?!”
“The old woman!”
No one could intervene—Hugong’s speed outstripped comprehension.
This was merely the beginning.
After discarding the corpse, he pivoted left toward the limping man.
Snap.
Their hands clashed in a flurry. The assassin retreated, eyes wide with terror. He’d dodged a strike, only for his arm to nearly snap under Jinansu’s force—a feint.
Too late, he realized his flank had been grazed, a vital point pierced.
Intel was wrong. Why is the Cheonhwaseogo heir attacking us?!
His thoughts ceased as fingers brushed his chin—
Ding.
A bell-like resonance echoed in his skull before darkness swallowed him. Brain matter oozed from his ears and eyes as he crumpled.
The remaining two assassins attacked from the right and rear.
“Brother Beom!”
“Eldest brother!”
Wang Sohan’s group and Hugong’s brothers shouted in alarm. Pedestrians screamed and scattered.
The nose-picking youth’s dagger aimed for Hugong’s ribs—but his wrist was caught mid-thrust, twisted until his own blade plunged into his heart.
Thud.
As the youth choked, the middle-aged assassin’s palm strike slammed into Hugong’s back.
Protective energy—Huyun—flared, absorbing the impact to fuel a spinning counterattack.
“What?!”
The assassin staggered, disoriented. By all logic, a direct hit should’ve forced retreat—not this feather-like whirlwind.
Hugong exploited the opening, piercing a vital point.
“Bloodletting…? But you’re also—”
Thud.
The assassin collapsed, knees buckling.
Hugong glanced down. A needle protruded from his left flank—the fourth assassin’s final move.
Though barely embedded, allowing the strike irked him. Huyun’s rebound had been weak—it should’ve deflected the needle.
The tip was dark brown. Poisoned.
But you too…
The dying assassin’s words implied belief in his success. Unfortunately, Yukgangmang’s blood neutralized all toxins.
“Young master!”
“Eldest brother, are you hurt?!”
Even Wang Sohan’s group approached nervously.
“Brother Beom, what’s happening?!”
“Are these men targeting you?!”
Wang Sohan, pale and trembling, struggled to process the carnage. But Dan Gangmu and Jang Ye understood—the old woman’s half-peeled mask revealed a middle-aged face beneath.
Hugong pointed at Yun.
“Yun.”
“Y-Yes, eldest brother?”
Yun scurried forward, trembling.
“Was this your doing?”
“W-What do you mean…?”
Though Hugong’s gaze remained calm, icy dread crawled up Yun’s spine.
Hugong’s lips quirked.
“Who are you colluding with? Today’s outing was your idea.”
“B-Brother… The truth is, today…”
From Hongmibanjeom’s fourth-floor window, Juyang witnessed it all.
His eyes bulged, mouth hanging open in shock.
