Childhood Friend of the Zenith – 353 (Part 1)



353 (Part 1)

“When I think of white hair I usually picture the distinctive hair of the Namgung Clan.

A bluish-white hair with a hint of green.

It was a representative change that came from the influence of deep cultivation.

‘So white.’

However the person in front of me had hair that was even whiter than that.

It wasn’t the white that comes with old age.

The man appeared to be somewhere between thirty and forty but that white hair held something more.

His white eyes were directed at me.

‘What is this?’

His gaze was clearly on me.

Yet the sensation of making eye contact with him felt hazy.

How should I describe this feeling?

He was clearly right in front of me.

But my perception was not clear.

It felt different from the sensation that comes from a significant difference in skill levels.

Should I call it the peak of alienation?

As an incomprehensible heaviness gradually rose to the back of my throat.

Swish.

The man seemed to notice my gaze and suddenly pulled out an unknown object from his robe covering his face with it.

It was a mask.

A mask that could be seen anywhere.

The only peculiar thing about it was that it was not a complete mask but a half mask.

I wondered why he suddenly put that on and as soon as he donned the half mask I understood the reason.

Suuuu….

“…!”

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Once he wore the mask a change occurred.

The moment the man put on the mask his shining white hair began to turn black.

The transformation was instantaneous.

It happened in mere seconds.

But that wasn’t the only change.

‘…I can see.’

The haziness that only allowed me to see his hair and eyes disappeared.

It meant that I was beginning to ‘recognize’ him.

I could finally make out the man’s eyes nose and overall facial features.

What is this?

Is it the power of that mask?

‘An artifact…?’

No matter how I looked at it the object that could show such a situation was undoubtedly an artifact.

Moreover somewhere.

‘Somewhere familiar in appearance.’

Where have I seen it?

Where did I see that half mask? It gave off an uncomfortable feeling just by looking at it.

Where did I feel that before?

‘Ah…!’

I remembered where I had seen that half mask.

That was.

‘The one that Jeongal Hyuk used.’

Jeongal Hyuk known as the brain of the Demonic Cult.

That mask was the one he wore to cover the burn on his face.

‘…Why does this man have that?’

It was highly likely that it wasn’t the same object.

Yet for some reason the thought that the half mask was the same as the one Jeongal Hyuk carried around lingered in my mind.

Did that mask have such an effect…?

“Hey kid.”

While I was staring intently at the man.

He opened his mouth to me.

“Were you planning to keep staring?”

“…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s fine. It’s just that I’m not used to being looked at by someone.”

He said that and brought the glass of water in his hand to his mouth.

A glass of water.

Was he holding a glass of water?

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‘I didn’t even see that.’

If he hadn’t worn the mask I wouldn’t have seen anything at all.

Realizing that made my spine chill.

For a martial artist not being able to recognize others means that death is imminent without a trace.

“…”

Having reached the level of enlightenment how could I feel such emotions?

What on earth is this man?

“You have an interesting expression.”

“…!”

“It’s a good habit. Keep striving.”

“…”

He noticed that I was weighing him and sensing danger.

Even though he knew that his reaction was calm as if our conversation had just ended.

“…Who are you?”

Who on earth is this man?

He creates this level of tension yet I’ve never seen his face before.

I may not know every strong person known in the Central Plains.

But I thought I knew a fair number.

Yet I knew nothing about this man.

Upon hearing my question he slightly raised his head and looked at me.

I didn’t notice it when his eyes were white.

But now that they were black I felt I could understand more.

Deep dark eyes without a hint of light.

Those who have such eyes are often those who exist neither in life nor death.

They possess such eyes because they have no lingering attachments to life.

Or perhaps.

‘Because they have killed far too many people.’

Those who have taken countless lives often have such eyes.

That’s why I was even more curious.

About the identity of this man.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve heard someone ask about my identity.”

“…Is that so?”

“Yes usually before anyone asks me that they’re already dead.”

That’s a truly terrifying reason.

“An introduction… It’s been a long time since I’ve introduced myself to someone.”

The man’s gaze turned to my eyes.

It was a gaze that was hard to hold for long.

If I kept looking I felt as if he would see right through me.

“But.”

At that moment.

His voice pierced my ears.

It was different from before. The tone and pitch were the same but.

There was something thick in it. I unconsciously felt saliva pooling in my mouth.

As if urging me to swallow.

“Hey kid you seem to already know but do you want to hear it from my mouth?”

“…”

His words made my eyebrows furrow.

Yes he was right.

I had already suspected his identity.

If you ask me when I started to suspect.

‘…From the moment I saw his eyes.’

From the moment I made eye contact with him.

I began to piece together the situation bit by bit.

Such eyes and this hazy presence are characteristics typically possessed by assassins.

Throughout my past lives I have encountered many assassins.

And all those I met burned to death in my hands.

To meet an assassin and survive means that.

Either I killed them.

Or they killed me.

‘This man…’

Dare I say if I faced the man without the mask in a deadly sense.

I would not be able to win.

It’s not about pride; it’s a certainty born from the instinct to survive.

‘How on earth did he do it?’

How can one’s presence be so faint to that extent?

The level of difference I felt from the Heavenly Demon the gap that made it impossible to sense his existence.

What this man possessed was different from that.

He was hiding his existence so meticulously that I couldn’t feel it even while talking to me and making eye contact.

‘Is that even possible?’

It must be possible.

If I were to face an ordinary civilian without any qi I could do such a thing.

However I am a martial artist who has reached enlightenment.

I have surpassed the peak known as the grave of martial artists.

Among the countless martial artists in the Central Plains I am at a level that barely exceeds a thousand.

Ah thinking about that makes me feel a bit embarrassed…

I feel my ears turning red.

Anyway.

‘To have that level against me.’

Is that even possible? The Central Plains is far too vast for that to be the case.

And.

There were certainly assassins who could do that.

Isn’t it well known?

There was an assassin whose identity must not be revealed due to their exceptional skills.

One of the most famous assassins known in the Central Plains.

No it’s not just one; it’s more accurate to say a representative figure.

The most renowned place for assassins in the Central Plains.

The Cheolya Assassins.

It is said to be the place where the most outstanding assassins gather in the Central Plains.

And the leader of that place is boldly called the king of assassins.

He is known as the King of the Night.

“…The Dark King.”

My answer seemed to please him.

The corners of the man’s mouth lifted ever so slightly.

Why is the king of the night whose true identity no one knows here with the sword queen?

******************

After the incident occurred when we finally reached the stage of managing the aftermath.

“We’re short on manpower…!”

The busiest ones were of course the medical team.

“Damn it… The bleeding won’t stop.”

“Senior…!”

The smell of blood and screams filled Wuhan.

The physicians were moving frantically but.

There were far too many patients.

Moreover.

“Where’s that new recruit who came in last time…! I’m swamped here!”

“…That friend died while guarding another patient during the day.”