The Genius Assassin Who Takes it All

Chapter 373: Reaper (1)

“With my master, and—oh—since Ms. Haemi is here too.”

“The greater the danger, the sweeter the fruit in return. Even so, in my view there’s nowhere as helpful for growth as North Korea.”

“I thought so too, Master.”

“Then we leave at daybreak. I’ll tell you in advance the things to beware of before entering Hoeyang County.”

“Yes.”

“Come on. No matter how little you sleep at night, you still need to shut your eyes.”

Morning.

After a quick meal, Kang-hoo’s group advanced to a point three kilometers short of Hoeyang County.

Unlike South Korea’s Gangwon Province, where people still lived,

North Korea’s Kangwon Province, though sharing the name, had become nearly an uninhabited zone.

Fifteen years ago, soldiers and civilians would’ve traveled these roads freely.

Now, with the silence pressing from all directions, it felt alien—like another world altogether.

How long had they been walking?

At some point, fog began to roll in, gradually hindering their vision.

“Wait.”

Kang-hoo halted the others.

The constellation Corrupted Undertaker had detected the location of a dead hunter.

Moving stealthily, they found a corpse lying ahead.

‘Kashimar Guild?’

The insignia on the hunter’s arm showed the emblem of Russia’s leading guild, Kashimar.

Judging by how little decomposition had occurred, the man had died only recently.

He couldn’t have crossed the border alone from Russia—there had to be a Kashimar base nearby.

‘The body’s covered in bite marks... Looks like a wild boar hybrid got him.’

Among hybrids, the boar types were notorious for attacking and biting people wildly, though they didn’t eat human flesh.

The corpse bore many bite wounds, but no missing flesh or torn organs.

‘It’s definitely Kashimar.’

The crossed sword-and-sickle emblem on the patch confirmed it.

He double-checked in case another guild used something similar, but his first conclusion was correct.

There were only two possible reasons a Kashimar hunter would be this far in: either a hidden mana-stone mine nearby, or a midpoint in a human-trafficking route.

Since this part of North Korea was effectively a no-man’s land, secret mana-stone mining wouldn’t raise alarm.

The latter, however, was troubling.

If this was part of a trafficking route, the nationalities of the victims were obvious—South Koreans.

It likely began in northern Gyeonggi or Gangwon-do, crossing Ground Zero and stretching all the way here.

Then—

The Celestial Assassin and Ju Haemi, joining moments later, examined the body.

As if expecting it, they simply nodded without expression.

It was well-known that many Russian and Chinese hunters had crossed into North Korea.

That alone wasn’t unusual.

The issue was that most of those crossing over were ex-convicts and criminals.

Much like how the Philippines was seen as a haven for fugitives, North Korea had become a similar refuge.

The Celestial Assassin asked his thoughtful disciple,

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to find out if Kashimar has a base nearby.”

“You planning to fight them?”

“I don’t want to just ignore this. Not out of some shallow sense of justice—more like I don’t want to get stabbed in the back later.”

“What’s wrong with justice? You don’t need to be a hero who saves the world. But there’s no need to belittle the desire to destroy what’s evil as ‘petty.’”

“Hmm...”

He wasn’t wrong.

But Kang-hoo had long thought differently.

For someone living in the gray zone, the idea of moral righteousness felt absurd—a romance when he did it, hypocrisy when others did.

In the grand picture, he was just another type of sinner stained with blood.

Maybe that was the influence of the Shin Kang-hoo side of him—a deeply cynical nature. Something born into him.

“Bad men should just be killed. You don’t need another reason. No need to justify yourself.”

“Yes, Master.”

The Celestial Assassin’s blunt words cleared his thoughts.

Then he asked again,

“So, what do you want to do?”

“I’ve had a long-standing grudge against Kashimar. I’d like to crush these insects.”

“Good. That sounds more like you.”

He wasn’t sure what “like you” meant, but since his master said it, he nodded.

Whatever the case, he couldn’t stand seeing them acting arrogant this close to Ground Zero.

In both the short and long term, Kashimar was a great evil.

Even in the original timeline, they had been expanding their influence within Korea.

Wasn’t the Heuksaja group already under their control? They were already meddling in national affairs.

And now, with Jeonghwa Guild secretly collaborating in human trafficking, they were becoming an even greater menace.

“I’ll save you the trouble of searching.”

The Celestial Assassin drew a cut on his finger and let blood fall onto the ground.

Then, using a branch, he sketched a complex sorcery array beginning from the blood—a design hard to predict.

And then—

Fwoooosh!

As soon as the array completed, Ju Haemi kicked up wind to amplify its power.

Kang-hoo, unable to resist his curiosity, copied the array with his Manipulation skill.

He didn’t intend to use it, just wanted to read its name and effect.

【Manipulation – Blood Net】

‘Blood Net?’

The name reminded him of Heaven-and-Earth Dragnet – Kill.

He checked the brief tooltip.

【Uses the greed of blood fiends to trace a dead man’s path backward through time.】

‘So it shows the route the dead walked?’

A fascinating skill.

He had nothing even remotely like it, which only deepened his curiosity—and envy.

Then the Celestial Assassin laid a hand on his left shoulder.

“Now you’ll see it—the path that hunter walked.”

No sooner had he spoken than the dead hunter’s route appeared before Kang-hoo’s eyes, like a fast-rewind replay.

The path was traced in bright fluorescent light, remaining visible in his field of view.

“As long as my hand’s on your shoulder, you’ll see the traces he left.”

“Wow... amazing, Master.”

“What Haemi did just now amplified the spell’s effect. This method can also expand the range of Heaven-and-Earth Dragnet – Kill.”

“A rare ability. It even has the properties of a buffer.”

“Right. My beloved daughter’s as talented as you. Don’t underestimate her.”

“I never did...”

“I mean, don’t even think about it. Not even a little.”

Even for an adopted daughter, a father couldn’t hide his doting nature.

Kang-hoo didn’t mind.

He actually liked it.

Through this training, he felt he was learning as much about Ju Haemi as he was from his master.

‘Learning new skills is fun—but seeing someone else’s skill is just as exciting.’

So this was what it meant to broaden one’s horizons.

If the chance came later, he wanted to learn the Celestial Assassin’s Blood Net no matter what.

Tracing the past footsteps of the dead—what skill could be more fascinating?

The dead hunter’s traced path led to a nearby building.

It had once been a school, but with no people now, it stood like an abandoned ruin.

Keeping their distance and hiding themselves, the group quietly observed the surroundings.

At first it seemed deserted, but soon noise broke the silence as the scene shifted.

A small truck arrived, and five people in handcuffs and shackles were dragged out.

Two hunters acted as guards, releasing a dark crimson aura toward them.

It seemed to be a mind-controlling skill.

Because of it, the captives walked with lifeless eyes, neither resisting nor showing emotion.

On the other side, two hunters—apparently returning from relieving themselves—walked back, fastening their belts.

They, too, wore Kashimar emblems. All of them were members of the same guild.

“...”

Everyone, including Kang-hoo, held their breath. They needed to see how the situation unfolded before acting.

Then—

“Fuck...!”

A man stormed out from the first-floor lobby of the abandoned school, cursing loudly.

“Boss! We brought the ones to send up later!”

The four hunters bowed their heads. The five captives remained motionless, eyes blank.

Then—

“What do you want me to do about it, fuck!”

Slash!

It happened instantly.

The man called Boss drew his sword and, in the blink of an eye, beheaded all five.

Their minds dominated and will to resist long broken, they couldn’t even scream before dying.

“...”

The Celestial Assassin looked at Kang-hoo.

His disciple was about to move.

‘He wants balance between good and evil, but to achieve it, he inevitably becomes the greater evil himself. That’s why he called his own justice “petty.”’

The Celestial Assassin understood perfectly.

No need to overthink it. To kill a monster, you must become a monster.

It was the same with evildoers.

Arresting a murderer and having him judged by the law instead of by death?

‘Utter nonsense.’

That was what the Celestial Assassin believed.

That was why, when Kang-hoo wanted to pursue Kashimar’s trail, he told him not to downplay his emotions.

He wanted his disciple to be honest with himself—and stop judging his feelings by cold reason alone.

If the world were cleanly divided into good and evil, black and white, right and wrong...

Then the Celestial Assassin’s hands wouldn’t be so stained with blood, nor would his title be what it was.

Five innocent lives disappeared in an instant, and none of the men flinched.

One simply asked,

“Boss, what’s wrong?”

“Maybe it’s this damned weather since morning—my throat feels scratchy. I was pissed off, so I killed them. That’s all.”

“Ah... ahaha! Of course! We’ve still got others locked up, right? I’ll send them north first!”

Underlings who treated the killing of five as a joke, and a boss unmoved even at the sight of innocent corpses.

The world had long since ended morally—but before them now was evil in its truest form.

Then—

“I’ll be back.”

Fwoosh!

In an instant, Kang-hoo vanished from beside the Celestial Assassin.

And before anyone realized—

Splaaat...!

A Kashimar hunter holding a bow spewed blood from Kang-hoo’s dagger and collapsed.

Five. Minus. One.

Four remained.