The Martial God with Psychic Powers

"Young Master Yeom, our Gate Master wishes to meet you. Would you kindly accompany me?"

"Sorry, I’m a bit busy."

"Young Master Yeom, I’m earnestly pleading with you. Please, just this once, come and meet our Gate Master."

"I’m busy."

"What is keeping you so occupied? Just tell me, and I’ll assist you."

The chief steward from Jincheon Gate was practically groveling before Yeon Woo-jin.

"My assignment. It’s due tomorrow."

"I’ll help you with your assignment. Just spare a moment to meet our Gate Master."

Yeon Woo-jin’s expression twisted in irritation. He glanced at the steward and asked:

"Did Seon Woo-baek tell you anything about me?"

The steward’s eyes widened in surprise.

"Our Young Master has something to say about you?"

"Oh, I guess not. I thought he might’ve said something about me."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Never mind. So, your Gate Master wants to meet me?"

"Your choice of words—‘your Gate Master’? Watch your tone!"

"Let’s go."

"What?"

"Let’s go. I’m busy, so let’s get this over with quickly. I’ve got an assignment to do."

"A-ah, very well. Please, follow me."

***

"So, you’re Yeon Woo-jin?"

"Yes."

Yeon Woo-jin replied with an indifferent expression, which made the Jincheon Gate Master want to slap him across the face immediately. But he restrained himself with superhuman patience.

"I see. You don’t look pleased to have been summoned like this all of a sudden."

"Not really, no."

Crack.

The Gate Master’s grip tightened on the armrest of his chair, nearly crushing it.

‘This brat...’

He closed his eyes briefly, trying to quell his anger, but then Yeon Woo-jin asked:

"Is this about Seon Woo-baek?"

The Gate Master’s eyes snapped open.

"Do you know anything about what happened to my son?"

"Well... if you put it that way, I might."

"Then speak. What happened at Baekyaksa?"

"I have a question first. If you answer it, I’ll tell you everything."

"What is it?"

"Your son was tormenting someone weaker than him. Brutally, too—it was hard to watch. What are your thoughts on that?"

"Are you suggesting my son was at fault?"

"Isn’t he?"

"No. Being weak is the real fault. My son is stronger, so how could he be in the wrong?"

"That’s disappointing. I thought the head of a respected martial sect would at least acknowledge wrongdoings. But if you could do that, you’d already be apologizing to Jang Woon instead of summoning me here."

The Gate Master couldn’t hold back any longer. His voice rose in fury as he glared at Yeon Woo-jin.

"You insolent brat...! Do you think I can’t kill you just because the Military Advisor favors you? I could kill you and make it disappear without a trace!"

"Wow, threatening to kill me now? But... are you sure you can handle the consequences?"

"What?"

The Gate Master’s fury intensified. Handle the consequences? Was this brat suggesting he could do something to the Jincheon Gate?

"What nonsense are you spewing? Handle what, exactly? Do you think you can stand against us?"

Yeon Woo-jin smiled faintly. At that moment, the Gate Master noticed his eyes—black as a void. A chill ran down his spine.

Those eyes. He had seen them before. Somewhere, sometime, they had filled him with the same bone-deep terror.

When was it? The memory evaded him, but an overwhelming dread told him that failing to remember would invite disaster.

Sweating heavily, the Gate Master stared at Yeon Woo-jin in silence. Sensing the shift, the steward asked cautiously:

"Gate Master, you don’t look well. Shall I let him go?"

The Gate Master was at a crossroads. Should he let Yeon Woo-jin leave or show him the price of his insolence?

After a deep sigh, the Gate Master telepathically communicated with the steward.

-Let him go. But contact the Life-and-Death Gate. Tell them to teach this brat a lesson.-

-Shall I tell them to kill him?-

-No, just cut off his legs so he’ll never act so arrogantly again.-

-Understood.-

The steward approached Yeon Woo-jin with a polite smile.

"My apologies for taking up your time, Young Master Yeom. I understand you have an assignment to complete. You’re free to go."

"Really? You’re just letting me leave?"

"Of course. If anyone heard this, they might think we were plotting something against you."

"That’s not the case? I could’ve sworn the Gate Master’s eyes were full of killing intent."

"Please understand, our Gate Master is in a foul mood because of his son’s condition. On his behalf, I apologize."

"Hmm, but I haven’t gotten an answer yet. Will the Gate Master apologize to Jang Woon?"

The Gate Master’s face twisted in anger. He wanted nothing more than to obliterate Yeon Woo-jin then and there, but he held back. The steward quickly interjected:

"I’ll do my best to persuade the Gate Master on that matter. Please trust me and leave it to me for now."

Yeon Woo-jin studied the steward for a moment before nodding.

"Alright. I’ll trust you for now. I’ll leave."

"Thank you."

"But keep your word. I’ll be watching."

Leaving those words behind, Yeon Woo-jin turned and walked out of the Jincheon Gate.

Crash!

"You damn brat!"

The Gate Master erupted in a fit of rage, smashing everything in sight.

"That cursed boy! There’s something unsettling about him! Contact the Life-and-Death Gate immediately! I don’t care what it costs—cut off his legs and bring them to me!"

"Understood!"

"And as for that Jang Woon... kill him."

"What?"

"You heard me. Put out a contract to kill him! That pathetic boy can’t even defend himself, so it shouldn’t be difficult!"

"Understood."

The steward hurriedly left, and the Gate Master muttered to himself, his eyes blazing with malice.

"I’ll make sure you’re crawling on the ground, legless, begging for mercy while I laugh in your face."

****

The chief steward arrived at the headquarters of the Central Plains' most formidable assassin organization, the Life-and-Death Gate.

As was customary when requesting their services, he uttered a code phrase before being allowed entry.

Inside, the receptionist of the Life-and-Death Gate greeted him with a sly smile.

“Welcome. How long has it been since you last visited us?”

“How have you been?”

“Haha, we’re always the same, as you know.”

Though their faces were covered, their familiarity was evident in their tone.

“So, who do you need us to kill?”

“One of them should not be killed—just their legs severed and brought back. The other one, kill them.”

“Oh, two jobs at once? It’s been a while since you brought us something like this. Let’s see... not kill, but sever the legs. As you know, jobs that don’t involve killing are more expensive.”

“I understand.”

The steward handed over two dossiers with details about the targets. The receptionist skimmed through them and chuckled.

From the looks of it, neither target was particularly challenging. In fact, the jobs seemed so straightforward that the receptionist wondered why the steward had bothered to hire them at all. Unable to suppress their curiosity, they asked:

“One’s the grandson of the Third Hall Master of the Boundless Library, and the other is a guard’s son... one of them is even bedridden. Why hire us for something you could handle yourselves?”

“Do I need to explain everything?”

“If we’re to take precautions, yes. As you know, operating within the Martial God’s domain is extremely risky.”

The steward hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“That Yeon Woo-jin kid… he’s under the Military Advisor’s protection. That’s why we can’t act directly.”

At this, the receptionist immediately understood the rationale.

“Ah, now I get it. Makes sense. But since he’s under the Military Advisor’s protection, the fee will be higher.”

“How much?”

“Twenty gold taels for the kid under the Advisor’s watch. As for the bedridden one, that’s simple—five gold taels.”

“Expensive.”

“The Military Advisor’s involvement requires extra caution. That’s the price.”

“Fine. Just make sure it’s done properly.”

“Don’t worry. Sit back and wait—we’ll bring you good news soon.”

“Your work has always been reliable.”

“Haha, flattery won’t get you a discount.”

“Tsk. What a shame.”

“We won’t see you off. Take care.”

“Until next time.”

****

Salho, one of the Life-and-Death Gate’s elite assassins, stood atop a tall tree overlooking the Medical Hall.

Perhaps because of an auspicious dream the night before, today’s mission felt absurdly easy.

The task was simple: sever the legs of one target and kill the other. Neither target was particularly strong in martial arts, making the job a breeze.

The only concern was the location—the Martial God’s territory. Yet even this had its advantages. As long as they weren’t caught in the act, the Martial God’s domain wouldn’t pursue the matter. The principle here was simple: if you suffered, it was because you were too weak to defend yourself.

This was the Martial God’s world—a land for the strong.

Moreover, the Life-and-Death Gate had recently secured an agreement with the Martial God’s domain, allowing them to operate within its boundaries. As a result, entering and executing missions here had become significantly easier.

Both targets were conveniently in the same room, and the Medical Hall’s surroundings were unguarded.

‘Can it really be this easy? It feels... unsettling.’

Salho shook his head vigorously, trying to dispel his unease.

‘Focus, focus! Never underestimate an easy job. Always give it your all.’

He drew a dagger and nicked his palm, smearing the blood across his face. With his face now stained red, he grinned.

“Alright, let’s get started.”

Just as he donned his mask and prepared to move, a cold sensation touched his neck.

Startled, he glanced down to find a sharp dagger pressed against his throat.

‘When?’

Chills ran down his spine. If the blade had cut him, he would’ve died without even realizing it.

The person behind him was clearly a superior assassin, someone even more skilled than he was.

“W-who are you?” Salho asked, his voice trembling.

“You’re from the Life-and-Death Gate, aren’t you?”

Salho remained silent. He would rather die than reveal anything about the Life-and-Death Gate.@@novelbin@@

‘Can I escape?’

He calculated his chances. They were nonexistent. Whoever this was had approached him so stealthily that he hadn’t even sensed it.

‘Damn it. I thought yesterday’s dream was a good omen... turns out it was warning me about my last day alive.’

Salho bit down on a molar, dislodging a hidden capsule containing a black poison pellet.

Just as he was about to crush it between his teeth—

Thud. Tap.

His body froze.

“Trying to bite down on a poison pellet? That won’t work.”

The mysterious figure slung Salho over his shoulder and began moving. Salho’s face went blank as he resigned himself to his fate.

‘Damn it... they’re planning to torture me. This is going to be a long night.’

After reaching a secluded spot, the stranger set Salho down. Salho braced himself for the inevitable torture.

Though he had undergone extensive training to withstand interrogation, pain was still pain.

The stranger pried open Salho’s mouth, retrieved the poison pellet, and pocketed it before releasing his acupoints.

The moment he could move again, Salho spat out his prepared response:

“No matter what you ask, you’ll get nothing from me. Torture won’t work. It’s a waste of time, so just kill me.”

“Impressive.”

‘Mocking me now?’

Salho bit his lip in frustration. He knew escape was impossible, but enduring humiliation was another matter.

Any moment now, the torture would begin...

“Admirable.”

What?

The stranger patted his head, as if praising him.

What was this? Some new psychological tactic?

Salho was bewildered. He had no idea how to respond.

“You’ve grown a lot.”