Sor's feet pound against the pavement, each step fueled by urgency. His breath quickens, a mix of exertion and the shock of recent events. His partner is gone, and possibly very dead. The realization tightens his chest as he sprints through the city's dimly lit streets.
Thrown unceremoniously from the speeding limousine, Sor scrambles to his feet. The distant figures of his targets disappear around a corner. The temptation to pursue them gnaws at him, but a flicker of doubt interrupts his determination. He senses his partner's life signals vanishing, a subtle discouragement for him to continue.
A veteran of the Hassassin for five years, Sor is no stranger to danger. However, the unexpected ability of their adversary to detect him, even in his invisible state, leaves him uneasy. "Hyon Hyung, is it?" he mutters to himself. The intel from their client, once trusted implicitly, now seems unreliable.
Choosing prudence over recklessness, Sor shifts his focus. He veers away from the pursuit, his decision echoing in the rhythm of his swift retreat. Back at the organization's base, hidden from prying eyes, he contemplates the unforeseen twist in their mission.
The luxurious glow of a hotel beckons him. Employing his invisibility prowess, he slips through the entrance unnoticed. The lobby, a realm of opulence, is oblivious to the shadow passing through its midst. Sor maneuvers through the hushed whispers of guests and the muted symphony of clinking glasses, an unseen entity in a world of extravagance.
As he ascends, navigating the corridors with practiced ease, Sor reflects on the precarious nature of his profession. The unexpected encounter has rattled him, but in the silence of his invisibility, he ponders the next move.
Sor kneels before the Head, the leader of their secretive organization. "I have returned," he announces, his voice steady but edged with the weight of failure.
The Head, standing amidst a pile of documents, peers down at Sor. "You returned alone. I assume you have failed," the leader states matter-of-factly, a hint of disappointment in the air.
Sor bows his head deferentially, a silent acknowledgment of his shortcomings. "The target is able to detect me despite my invisibility, Head," he confesses, his gaze fixed on the ground. The leader remains silent, calmly observing him.
"It appears that this Hyon Hyung is more than meets the eye," Sor continues, the tension in the room palpable. "He countered me masterfully, executed a few moves, and disposed of me easily. My partner's life signal ceased after that. The most concerning part is that the vehicle where we conducted our assassination exploded following the confrontation. I fear we're not the only ones the Hero Association has hired."
The Head's expression remains stoic, absorbing the gravity of the situation.
"What a pity," The Head huffs in annoyance, his voice a low grumble that reverberates through the room. "If he can see through your invisibility, then all the more we have to get rid of him. It seems this target really has to die now, with the Association's request, with or without."
The Hassassins, a clandestine assassination organization rooted in the ancient sands of Egypt, have thrived since Outcall. They possess a unique and formidable art, a power that cloaks their members in near-perfect invisibility. This art, honed through generations, is so potent that even Master Rank Heroes struggle to detect them. The Hassassins stand as elusive and lethal shadows, their reputation as dangerous killing machines echoing through the corridors of whispered secrets. Their existence, concealed in the folds of history, has endowed them with power and influence in the dark alleys of the underworld. Now, faced with a threat that pierces their veil of invisibility, The Head contemplates the necessity of extinguishing this newfound adversary, a decision weighed against the backdrop of the Association's relentless demands.
The Head, with long black hair, dark brown skin, and a slim build, stands in the dimly lit room, contemplating the predicament. "There are two possible reasons as to how this Hyon Hyung has seen through your invisibility," he begins, his voice a measured analysis. "One is that he possesses hidden strength. Or two, he has technology that can see past our martial art's invisibility."
Sor, still reeling from the encounter, responds with a wry smile. "And here I thought that the target is just a rich asshole," he sighs, the tension in the air momentarily broken by his sardonic humor.
"We always kill our targets, but this time the Association has really done it," the Head continues, his expression revealing the seriousness of the situation. "We'll be increasing the price on the target's head. For now, we should postpone targeting this rich 'asshole,' as you call him." He raises a piece of paper, displaying Chae Nayun's face—a formidable fighter and blood kin of Chae Joochul. "First, we deal with her."
Suddenly, a deafening bang resounds through the room. Time seems to freeze as Sor, a seasoned assassin, crumples to the floor, a crimson hole now marring his forehead. The air thickens with the unexpected, the Head recoiling in shock at the abrupt loss of one of his best subordinates.
Lying low, the Head quickly assesses the situation. The shock of the surprise attack lingers, as a Master Rank himself, he's not easily frightened by anyone. Yet, the abrupt demise of Sor has unsettled the calculated composure he usually maintains.
The shattering of glass follows, echoing through the room. From the distinct sound, it becomes apparent that the new arrival is alone. The air crackles with tension as the unseen assailant makes their presence known, the dynamics of the room shifting in the wake of Sor's untimely demise.
The intruder, a woman named Fatima, greets the room with an unsettling cheerfulness. "Hello! My name is Fatima! Nice to meet you! Don't be shy, the snipers outside won't shoot you... They are busy killing your subordinates." Gunshots resound in the distance, blending with the rising panic of those caught in the crossfire.
The Head, revealing himself from his concealed position, observes the intruder. She is blonde, with dark eyes, wearing a creepy smile, and wielding a katana. "You are... a Djinn," he declares, a tinge of recognition coloring his words. He senses her identity from the lingering aura she exposes. "And here I thought the Association has completely gotten rid of your kind."
Fatima responds with a gleeful confirmation, her unsettling cheer undeterred. "Yep, you are right! This is indeed a terrorism incident! Yehey, right?" The juxtaposition of her jubilant tone against the chaos unfolding around them creates an eerie atmosphere.
The Head watches as Fatima remains nonchalant, an unsettling calmness emanating from her. Her words send a shiver down his spine, a feeling of unease settling in.
"It is very rare when His Excellency allows us to let loose, so I really have to thank you for daring to target him!" Fatima declares, brandishing her katana. Dark magic power escapes her, weaving an ominous aura around her presence.
The Head, trying to maintain his composure, acknowledges the superiority of Djinns. "Hmmm... Djinns are indeed more superior to people of equivalent ranks," he admits, his tone contemplative. "I see that you are a High Rank. Is that the source of your confidence?" He narrows his eyes, studying her closely. "And His Excellency? What do you mean by that? Do you belong to one of the Thirteen Evils? They usually were my clients before the Djinn Detection Technology was invented..."
The mention of "His Excellency" and his mention of the Thirteen Evils adds another layer of complexity to the unfolding confrontation, leaving the Head to grapple with the mysteries that now surround him.
Fatima laughs, her voice echoing through the tension-laden air. "Thirteen Evils? Yeah, sure... Aren't they like just nine now?" Her laughter holds a hint of mockery as she postures, heightening her magic power with an eerie confidence.
"You are so talkative! I like that! You are making my job easy!" Fatima remarks, reveling in the unfolding situation. Her demeanor remains carefree, a stark contrast to the weight of the secrets that hang in the air.
The Head, undeterred by her taunts, remains composed. "If you are stalling for time, then give up," he states calmly. "By now, my subordinates would have gotten rid of your snipers." The sound of gunfire stops abruptly, a testament to the efficiency of the Hassassins under his command. "See," he adds, a subtle smirk betraying his confidence.
A dozen people, their militaristic gear stained with the blood of others, stride into the room. Each one carries a spear, their presence commanding attention. Despite the traces of battle evident in their attire, none of the blood belongs to them. Instead, an unmistakable Djinn's aura envelops each of them.
Their appearance is that of professional soldiers, adorned in militaristic vests, goggles shielding their eyes from unseen threats, and equipped with all the tools befitting a seasoned warrior. The air crackles with the palpable energy of their collective presence, a formidable force aligned with Fatima's inscrutable motives.
The Head, still maintaining his composed facade, confronts the unexpected revelation. "How?" he questions, his tone betraying a hint of urgency.
Fatima, reveling in the unfolding drama, responds teasingly, "After you sent your assassins to His Excellency, he thought, why not take the Hassassins' martial arts in exchange?" She boasts, her words laced with a hint of mockery. "So he, like, took out some tech which can deduce 'soul' signals... and voila, your subordinates are reduced to helpless kids. Though the tech's accuracy is only 30%, it is still quite effective against your lot!"
The realization hits the Head like a sudden gust of wind. His eyes widen with understanding. "Hyon Hyung..." he mutters, finally connecting the dots.
With a surge of decisiveness, the Head makes the snap decision to escape. Utilizing his mastered martial arts, he seamlessly transitions into invisibility, the shadows cloaking his form as he bolts toward the window.
Yet, in the midst of his escape, an unexpected force clamps down on him, an invasive weight disrupting his steps. A foreign power asserts its dominance over him, and before he can fully comprehend the threat, the Djinns surrounding him react with startling precision.
The air crackles with the sound of spears slicing through the space. The Djinns, their movements synchronized, lunge forward, striking their spears with lethal accuracy. The invisible Head, now exposed by the sudden onslaught, is rendered helpless.
A grim tableau unfolds as the Head spits out blood, a violent reaction to the immobilizing strikes. His limbs succumb to a numbing paralysis, the effects of the Djinn assault taking hold.
Fatima taunts the immobilized Head, her voice dripping with scorn. "So shameless, you are Master Rank, and your first thought is to run?"
From the shadows emerges a Latina woman, none other than Tomer. Her fingers emanate a potent and invisible magic power—telekinesis—which binds the Head in place. "It looks like I am getting better with my invisibility magic, but I think it still won't compare to the Hassassin's martial arts..."
Fatima reassures her comrade, "Don't be too down, boss... The Head here didn't detect you after all."
Tomer explains the safeguard in place, "It's because His Excellency has cast on me for safe measure."
The Head, indignant yet feeling the weight of his predicament, demands, "What do you want with me?" The realization of the dire situation settles in, and his despair is evident.
"We are going to torture and torture you until you tell us your martial arts," Tomer declares coldly. "From this day henceforth, the Hassassins are no more. My organization has sent a few of its ships to Egypt and should be dealing with what remains of the Hassassins."
The Head, angered but still rational, defiantly responds, "Do your worst." He manages a wicked smile, attempting to swallow the bitter pill of impending demise hiding in his teeth.
Tomer, grinning back, uses her telekinesis to lock the Head's jaws. "So easy to read, you can only die when I say so..." The room echoes with the sinister resolve of the captors, the once-formidable Head now at the mercy of his relentless adversaries.
Alfir Just an extra explanation, this is all canon. The Hassassins are a powerful organization who have killed Master Rank Heroes multiple times. "And they have never failed a job." That's their advertisement phrase. They never failed a job except when one time, they targeted Chae Joochul. The only reason they didn't finish the job was because their client was not offering enough money though, but if the 'client' did have enough money, I reckon it is possible for them to assassinate Chae Joochul. If there are inaccuracies, please feel free to correct me. In the original TNE, Kim Hajin AKA 'Black Lotus' has been also targeted by the Hassassins. They failed and never tried again for the duration of the novel. (The reason for their failure though is all thanks to Jin Sahyuk acting as Hajin's backup.)
Sor's feet pound against the pavement, each step fueled by urgency. His breath quickens, a mix of exertion and the shock of recent events. His partner is gone, and possibly very dead. The realization tightens his chest as he sprints through the city's dimly lit streets.
Thrown unceremoniously from the speeding limousine, Sor scrambles to his feet. The distant figures of his targets disappear around a corner. The temptation to pursue them gnaws at him, but a flicker of doubt interrupts his determination. He senses his partner's life signals vanishing, a subtle discouragement for him to continue.
A veteran of the Hassassin for five years, Sor is no stranger to danger. However, the unexpected ability of their adversary to detect him, even in his invisible state, leaves him uneasy. "Hyon Hyung, is it?" he mutters to himself. The intel from their client, once trusted implicitly, now seems unreliable.
Choosing prudence over recklessness, Sor shifts his focus. He veers away from the pursuit, his decision echoing in the rhythm of his swift retreat. Back at the organization's base, hidden from prying eyes, he contemplates the unforeseen twist in their mission.
The luxurious glow of a hotel beckons him. Employing his invisibility prowess, he slips through the entrance unnoticed. The lobby, a realm of opulence, is oblivious to the shadow passing through its midst. Sor maneuvers through the hushed whispers of guests and the muted symphony of clinking glasses, an unseen entity in a world of extravagance.
As he ascends, navigating the corridors with practiced ease, Sor reflects on the precarious nature of his profession. The unexpected encounter has rattled him, but in the silence of his invisibility, he ponders the next move.
Sor kneels before the Head, the leader of their secretive organization. "I have returned," he announces, his voice steady but edged with the weight of failure.
The Head, standing amidst a pile of documents, peers down at Sor. "You returned alone. I assume you have failed," the leader states matter-of-factly, a hint of disappointment in the air.
Sor bows his head deferentially, a silent acknowledgment of his shortcomings. "The target is able to detect me despite my invisibility, Head," he confesses, his gaze fixed on the ground. The leader remains silent, calmly observing him.
"It appears that this Hyon Hyung is more than meets the eye," Sor continues, the tension in the room palpable. "He countered me masterfully, executed a few moves, and disposed of me easily. My partner's life signal ceased after that. The most concerning part is that the vehicle where we conducted our assassination exploded following the confrontation. I fear we're not the only ones the Hero Association has hired."
The Head's expression remains stoic, absorbing the gravity of the situation.
"What a pity," The Head huffs in annoyance, his voice a low grumble that reverberates through the room. "If he can see through your invisibility, then all the more we have to get rid of him. It seems this target really has to die now, with the Association's request, with or without."
The Hassassins, a clandestine assassination organization rooted in the ancient sands of Egypt, have thrived since Outcall. They possess a unique and formidable art, a power that cloaks their members in near-perfect invisibility. This art, honed through generations, is so potent that even Master Rank Heroes struggle to detect them. The Hassassins stand as elusive and lethal shadows, their reputation as dangerous killing machines echoing through the corridors of whispered secrets. Their existence, concealed in the folds of history, has endowed them with power and influence in the dark alleys of the underworld. Now, faced with a threat that pierces their veil of invisibility, The Head contemplates the necessity of extinguishing this newfound adversary, a decision weighed against the backdrop of the Association's relentless demands.
The Head, with long black hair, dark brown skin, and a slim build, stands in the dimly lit room, contemplating the predicament. "There are two possible reasons as to how this Hyon Hyung has seen through your invisibility," he begins, his voice a measured analysis. "One is that he possesses hidden strength. Or two, he has technology that can see past our martial art's invisibility."
Sor, still reeling from the encounter, responds with a wry smile. "And here I thought that the target is just a rich asshole," he sighs, the tension in the air momentarily broken by his sardonic humor.
"We always kill our targets, but this time the Association has really done it," the Head continues, his expression revealing the seriousness of the situation. "We'll be increasing the price on the target's head. For now, we should postpone targeting this rich 'asshole,' as you call him." He raises a piece of paper, displaying Chae Nayun's face—a formidable fighter and blood kin of Chae Joochul. "First, we deal with her."
Suddenly, a deafening bang resounds through the room. Time seems to freeze as Sor, a seasoned assassin, crumples to the floor, a crimson hole now marring his forehead. The air thickens with the unexpected, the Head recoiling in shock at the abrupt loss of one of his best subordinates.
Lying low, the Head quickly assesses the situation. The shock of the surprise attack lingers, as a Master Rank himself, he's not easily frightened by anyone. Yet, the abrupt demise of Sor has unsettled the calculated composure he usually maintains.
The shattering of glass follows, echoing through the room. From the distinct sound, it becomes apparent that the new arrival is alone. The air crackles with tension as the unseen assailant makes their presence known, the dynamics of the room shifting in the wake of Sor's untimely demise.
The intruder, a woman named Fatima, greets the room with an unsettling cheerfulness. "Hello! My name is Fatima! Nice to meet you! Don't be shy, the snipers outside won't shoot you... They are busy killing your subordinates." Gunshots resound in the distance, blending with the rising panic of those caught in the crossfire.
The Head, revealing himself from his concealed position, observes the intruder. She is blonde, with dark eyes, wearing a creepy smile, and wielding a katana. "You are... a Djinn," he declares, a tinge of recognition coloring his words. He senses her identity from the lingering aura she exposes. "And here I thought the Association has completely gotten rid of your kind."
Fatima responds with a gleeful confirmation, her unsettling cheer undeterred. "Yep, you are right! This is indeed a terrorism incident! Yehey, right?" The juxtaposition of her jubilant tone against the chaos unfolding around them creates an eerie atmosphere.
The Head watches as Fatima remains nonchalant, an unsettling calmness emanating from her. Her words send a shiver down his spine, a feeling of unease settling in.
"It is very rare when His Excellency allows us to let loose, so I really have to thank you for daring to target him!" Fatima declares, brandishing her katana. Dark magic power escapes her, weaving an ominous aura around her presence.
The Head, trying to maintain his composure, acknowledges the superiority of Djinns. "Hmmm... Djinns are indeed more superior to people of equivalent ranks," he admits, his tone contemplative. "I see that you are a High Rank. Is that the source of your confidence?" He narrows his eyes, studying her closely. "And His Excellency? What do you mean by that? Do you belong to one of the Thirteen Evils? They usually were my clients before the Djinn Detection Technology was invented..."
The mention of "His Excellency" and his mention of the Thirteen Evils adds another layer of complexity to the unfolding confrontation, leaving the Head to grapple with the mysteries that now surround him.
Fatima laughs, her voice echoing through the tension-laden air. "Thirteen Evils? Yeah, sure... Aren't they like just nine now?" Her laughter holds a hint of mockery as she postures, heightening her magic power with an eerie confidence.
"You are so talkative! I like that! You are making my job easy!" Fatima remarks, reveling in the unfolding situation. Her demeanor remains carefree, a stark contrast to the weight of the secrets that hang in the air.
The Head, undeterred by her taunts, remains composed. "If you are stalling for time, then give up," he states calmly. "By now, my subordinates would have gotten rid of your snipers." The sound of gunfire stops abruptly, a testament to the efficiency of the Hassassins under his command. "See," he adds, a subtle smirk betraying his confidence.
A dozen people, their militaristic gear stained with the blood of others, stride into the room. Each one carries a spear, their presence commanding attention. Despite the traces of battle evident in their attire, none of the blood belongs to them. Instead, an unmistakable Djinn's aura envelops each of them.
Their appearance is that of professional soldiers, adorned in militaristic vests, goggles shielding their eyes from unseen threats, and equipped with all the tools befitting a seasoned warrior. The air crackles with the palpable energy of their collective presence, a formidable force aligned with Fatima's inscrutable motives.
The Head, still maintaining his composed facade, confronts the unexpected revelation. "How?" he questions, his tone betraying a hint of urgency.
Fatima, reveling in the unfolding drama, responds teasingly, "After you sent your assassins to His Excellency, he thought, why not take the Hassassins' martial arts in exchange?" She boasts, her words laced with a hint of mockery. "So he, like, took out some tech which can deduce 'soul' signals... and voila, your subordinates are reduced to helpless kids. Though the tech's accuracy is only 30%, it is still quite effective against your lot!"
The realization hits the Head like a sudden gust of wind. His eyes widen with understanding. "Hyon Hyung..." he mutters, finally connecting the dots.
With a surge of decisiveness, the Head makes the snap decision to escape. Utilizing his mastered martial arts, he seamlessly transitions into invisibility, the shadows cloaking his form as he bolts toward the window.
Yet, in the midst of his escape, an unexpected force clamps down on him, an invasive weight disrupting his steps. A foreign power asserts its dominance over him, and before he can fully comprehend the threat, the Djinns surrounding him react with startling precision.
The air crackles with the sound of spears slicing through the space. The Djinns, their movements synchronized, lunge forward, striking their spears with lethal accuracy. The invisible Head, now exposed by the sudden onslaught, is rendered helpless.
A grim tableau unfolds as the Head spits out blood, a violent reaction to the immobilizing strikes. His limbs succumb to a numbing paralysis, the effects of the Djinn assault taking hold.
Fatima taunts the immobilized Head, her voice dripping with scorn. "So shameless, you are Master Rank, and your first thought is to run?"
From the shadows emerges a Latina woman, none other than Tomer. Her fingers emanate a potent and invisible magic power—telekinesis—which binds the Head in place. "It looks like I am getting better with my invisibility magic, but I think it still won't compare to the Hassassin's martial arts..."
Fatima reassures her comrade, "Don't be too down, boss... The Head here didn't detect you after all."
Tomer explains the safeguard in place, "It's because His Excellency has cast on me for safe measure."
The Head, indignant yet feeling the weight of his predicament, demands, "What do you want with me?" The realization of the dire situation settles in, and his despair is evident.
"We are going to torture and torture you until you tell us your martial arts," Tomer declares coldly. "From this day henceforth, the Hassassins are no more. My organization has sent a few of its ships to Egypt and should be dealing with what remains of the Hassassins."
The Head, angered but still rational, defiantly responds, "Do your worst." He manages a wicked smile, attempting to swallow the bitter pill of impending demise hiding in his teeth.
Tomer, grinning back, uses her telekinesis to lock the Head's jaws. "So easy to read, you can only die when I say so..." The room echoes with the sinister resolve of the captors, the once-formidable Head now at the mercy of his relentless adversaries.
Alfir Just an extra explanation, this is all canon. The Hassassins are a powerful organization who have killed Master Rank Heroes multiple times. "And they have never failed a job." That's their advertisement phrase. They never failed a job except when one time, they targeted Chae Joochul. The only reason they didn't finish the job was because their client was not offering enough money though, but if the 'client' did have enough money, I reckon it is possible for them to assassinate Chae Joochul. If there are inaccuracies, please feel free to correct me. In the original TNE, Kim Hajin AKA 'Black Lotus' has been also targeted by the Hassassins. They failed and never tried again for the duration of the novel. (The reason for their failure though is all thanks to Jin Sahyuk acting as Hajin's backup.)
