Without even realizing it Suwon had sat at the dinner table until dawn of the next day reading all three books.

‘I’m not tired at all. Looks like the book was correct on my internal energy nourishing me.’

Right as he was up his uncle walked into their house.

On him was a worried and stern expression, something littered with panic.

“What is it uncle?” He asked in a curious manner.

“I don’t have time to explain. Put on your new clothes and mask.”

Lee Jaemin hurried Suwon as he frantically looked around the house.

Suwon did just as he was told.

In a matter of seconds Suwon was a completely different person, no teen in early adulthood there.

Only a martial artist.

He had his all black linen clothes on, his white mask standing out, but the most outstanding thing was the knife that was hanging on his lower chest.

“Take this money and leave.” Lee Jaemin said as he handed Suwon a pouch of coins.

“Why now?” Suwon asked as he stared at his uncle.

He doesn’t have anything against leaving but he is just curious about why right this second.

“The traders are early, and they come from the Orthodox Faction.”

Suwon’s casual smirk faltered for a second, but he quickly hid it.

“So, will they kill you all? Or only some?”

“All. They already have a grudge against the village chief.”

Lee Jaemin answered with a frowning look on his face.

‘Kill me.’ Lee Jaemin said with a straight face as he stared at his nephew that it took him by surprise but soon his poker face was back.

“Yes, uncle. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, brat.”

A smile grazed Lee Jaemin’s face as he saw Suwon being able to accept it.

He knew the first kill was the most important for any martial artist and if you can’t get over that then you will never be able to continue this path.

If Suwon can overcome it, he will have to believe in it.

He took a steady step towards his uncle and readied himself.

He circulated his internal energy through his legs and right arm and acted.

In a blink he unsheathes his knife and strikes at the vital points of Lee Jaemin.

His neck and throat gapes as the knife passes through with ease.

Blood starts pouring out of him, and he falls to the floor.

Lee Jaemin is getting paler by the second and he smiles broadly at his former nephew and says one last sentence.

‘You are no longer my nephew, you are whoever you create.’

The scene looked like something from a children’s horror book.

An all black clothed man with a creepy white mask staring down at a dead man smiling in his own pool of blood.

Suwon stares at his former uncle for a few minutes as both his hands shake.

‘Uncle. No, this man is my first kill. Nothing more.’

He repeats as he exits his former house and heads for the woods.

Suwon walks for hours until he stops at a little clearing and removes his mask.

Stained tear marks are visible on his face but little to no emotion is shown.

He walks up to a small creak and washes his face then immediately equips the mask again.

“How could I have done it better?” Suwon asks himself as he sits down on the grass and begins thinking.

Replaying the scene of his first kill in his head had first made an impact on him, but after a while he started to not react to it.

He had been sitting for hours thinking of how to make it the most viable.

“Had I stabbed his neck he would not have felt it.”

“But had I slashed his head off, it would be immediate.”

After thinking of so many ways he remembered something from the book.

‘It doesn’t matter what the enemy thinks. As long as they can’t make a sound.’

In the way of assassination that is one of the important rules.

The enemy can be paralyzed and dying but why should Suwon care?

As long as it won’t compromise him or be a problem, in the end it doesn’t matter.

As if a weight had been loosened off his shoulders he stood up and started moving in a random direction again, this time upstream.