Living each day with purpose.
Days spent sending those rotten wretches up to the Lord's side.
Through it all, I learned quite a lot.
"Oh? The more I look at it, the more astonishing it is. This thing called prana. There are endless ways to use it."
Maybe there was some kind of community among the higher-ups.
Once I'd smashed more than five skulls, the counterattack started coming my way.
Then again, since the information on the trash I'd dealt with all came from a single source, they must have caught on by the fifth one.
And so, naturally, the number of eyes searching for me, and watching me, began to increase one by one.
Maybe they'd put a bounty on my head, because whenever I showed even the slightest opening, they came at my throat with reckless aggression.
But—
Thud!
"Kuek!"
"If you saw what happened with Jindo Group, you should've at least sent someone with real skill."
It was crude.
They called themselves assassins, but none of them could pierce the flow of prana I had spread around me.
On top of that, after becoming a god-slayer, a Devil King, my instincts had sharpened absurdly, so honestly, I could handle ambushes without even bothering to spread prana everywhere.
"And a Devil King, huh... When I read the memory, I thought it might be a joke, but this was real."
I now knew who I was.
And how I had become such an existence.
It was because I had read Dohyeok's memories and learned of the existence of god-slayers.
The professor I had killed was surely what people in this world called a god.
More precisely, a kind of rogue god that did not follow anyone.
"The severed right arm. Law and justice. The one who deceived Fenrir, who followed him like a parent, and imprisoned him until the day Ragnarok would come."
The god of Norse mythology, Tyr.
He was probably the professor's true identity.
Of course, I still didn't know why he had let me kill him.
And why he had handed over the judicial baton.
I could only vaguely guess that he had wanted someone to judge him.
But that no longer mattered.
What mattered was that I had become one of the kings in this world—one of only seven, or rather eight now, including myself.
"If my memory isn't wrong, then aside from another king, there probably aren't many people stronger than me."
That was only the memory of a mere hired killer, so I couldn't afford to let my guard down.
Still, that didn't mean I needed to move around with excessive caution anymore.
Jindo Group had already proven that much.
Even if they came as a group, stopping me was no easy task.
Which made assassins almost cute by comparison.
And yet, when I observed them closely, I realized there was quite a lot I could learn from them too.
"Ah, I see. So that's how it was. You were hiding your presence. The technique itself was just so crude that I didn't notice."
How to conceal one's presence with prana.
How to suppress sound with prana.
Techniques for handling blades.
And at the same time, how to deal with such blades, along with practical combat sense.
As the saying goes, each day brings new growth.
I could feel with perfect clarity what it meant to improve day by day.
Well, after about a week, there wasn't much left to squeeze out of them.
But in the middle of all that, I noticed something unusual.
While only maintaining surveillance, there were people with far superior skill to most assassins circling around me.
I knew at once they were from the National Intelligence Service.
"The National Intelligence Service, huh..."
This was, in fact, a surprise.
As usual, the National Intelligence Service that ordinary people imagined was supposed to be terribly sinister, wasn't it?
Dirty rather than clean.
Cold-blooded people who would stop at nothing if it served the national interest.
But contrary to my expectations, the National Intelligence Service of the Republic of Korea was a remarkably honorable and normal organization.
The very fact that the trash I'd been hunting feared the National Intelligence Service most of all proved they were doing their job well enough.
Sure, they did some secretive things to conceal the existence of supernatural powers.
But even I could understand why they had to.
And yes, they did act for the sake of the nation.
But even that was their own sacrifice, not a demand for the people's sacrifice.
Rather, they were incredible people who knew how to sacrifice themselves for the people at any time.
Historically, they were a group whose roots lay in the independence fighters formed during the Japanese colonial era.
Those who secured and preserved Korean sorcery texts, ritual implements, national treasures, and sacred relics that had been leaking into Japan at the time.
Those who rescued and protected the shrine maidens being dragged away, and later joined when the National Intelligence Service was founded, becoming what it is today.
Most sorcerers had long since surpassed the normal human lifespan, so the majority of the current senior officials were still the same people from back then.
In the best possible sense, they were pristine old-timers who had somehow managed not to rot.
But—
"That aside, they're slow."
I hadn't left that cigarette butt lying around for nothing.
If I hid my identity too, it would take them far too long to find me.
It was a measure meant to give them the bare minimum clue and see how swiftly the National Intelligence Service would respond to my actions.
And yet they only identified me and began surveillance after I'd blown away five skulls.
Considering that all the people I'd killed, though criminals, were still figures who had one foot in the light, it was a response so slow it was almost yawn-inducing.
"Their skill is better than some random nobodies, but still... Hah, is my standard just too high?"
Come to think of it, they had said they were swamped because of the king that had appeared in Japan.
Maybe I should cut them a little slack.
Considering the ripple effect caused by the existence of a king, the National Intelligence Service probably had more than enough on its plate.
"Hmm. I'll keep watching a bit longer. Besides, there are still plenty of skulls left to crack."
At the very least, I intended to wipe out every last one of Dohyeok's clients.
It was a pity that many of them had gone to the grave without ever revealing their identities.
So I continued my investigation and my executions.
Now and then I repelled the assassins who came after me, and at last, after dealing with the final, twelfth target, I was about to head back when the National Intelligence Service finally made its move.
"For someone who's killed dozens of people today, you look remarkably calm. Or should I say blank?"
The owner of the voice was a woman with short hair cut to the jaw.
Her eyes were a little sharp, but she had a cool, haughty beauty that would probably make her very popular.
As befitting an agent of the National Intelligence Service, she wore a suit that gave away nothing about her identity, and stood in my way with a single sword in hand.
The moment I spread my prana, I could tell that not only she, but dozens of others, had already surrounded the area.
"Oh... interesting."
There should have been no one in my sensory range just a moment ago.
The technique of hiding oneself with prana.
I'd only just begun to use it by rough instinct myself, but these people had been trained in it professionally.
"Now that I think about it, I've heard of you. Special Operations Division, Supernatural Team 4. The National Intelligence Service's darkest blade."
I immediately expanded my prana, stretching my sensory range almost to its limit.
As expected, I found a group racing toward this place from beyond my usual range.
So it seemed my failure to notice their surveillance all this time wasn't simply because they lacked skill.
"You were measuring my gap?"
"Correct. You really are no ordinary practitioner, so we put in some effort too."
An opponent with a sensory range as wide as Il-gyu's is troublesome not only because of skill, but because the risk of escape is extremely high.
Whether it's someone stronger than them or a larger number of enemies, the moment they sense even a hint of disadvantage, they pull out fast.
"We're pretty busy right now. We can't afford to cast the net several times just to catch one sorcerer."
One shot.
But perfectly.
So that there would be no further damage.
That was why they had waited even though they could have targeted Il-gyu at any time.
"What a waste of effort. I had no intention of running in the first place."
"Everyone says that at first."
"Since it's come to this, let's at least exchange names. You know mine, don't you? I'm Yang Il-gyu. A lawyer."
"Since when did a lawyer in the Republic of Korea start smashing people's heads in with a judicial baton?"
"So?"
"My introduction? Do you think a National Intelligence Service agent would be crazy enough to give you her real name? Ah, I do have about seven identities I use as aliases. Want one of those?"
"Thorough."
I let a faint smile form at the corner of my mouth.
As expected, these people were no random nobodies.
That much was obvious from the skill I could feel right now.
Her stepping forward first was also because her team members had already taken their positions, making this the optimal place.
And when I gave them even the slightest opening to stall, she answered with just enough force to keep it from showing, buying time for the others rushing in from outside my sensory range to arrive.
Crack! Crack!
I loosened up my hands and took my stance.
But at the sight of me, the woman showed a small flicker of unease for the first time.
She tilted her head in confusion and said, "You should have the sacred judicial baton, shouldn't you?"
"Ah, that? I'm not using it on people like you."
That was my own principle.
I would only swing the baton when punishing罪 and when clearing the path toward the condemned.
Of course, since they were National Intelligence Service agents, I could see the karma of murder on them too.
If I really wanted to, I could draw not just the judicial baton but even [Tyr's Sword] without hesitation.
But at the very least, this fight was neither a trial nor a sentence to me.
"So I'll put the baton away."
And in truth—
"You lot are enough with my bare hands."
"Hah?"
"Come on. Don't worry. I won't kill you."
They had spent their lives as National Intelligence Service agents dealing with every kind of human scum, criminal sorcerers, and trash.
But they had never once been met with provocation like this.
What was infuriating was that Il-gyu's expression looked sincere, not mocking.
And what was even more infuriating was that their experience as agents told them something else.
It wasn't that he only looked sincere.
He really was sincere.
"You son of a bitch... let's see if you can still say that after a blade's buried in your gut! Everyone, crush him!!"
"That's a fine thug's way of talking. I was a little worried you might try to save face and insist on fighting bare-handed too."
"You idiot, why would I throw away something this good? Bring me my shotgun too!"
"Excellent."
Supernatural Team 4, Team Leader Choi Hana.
Not long from now, it would become a commemorative first meeting with the king that the National Intelligence Service would remember for years to come.