The silvery moonlight spilled across the ground, casting a chilly glow. The once-sweltering air had turned refreshingly cool. Night always held such a serene, captivating stillness.
Qin Jun lay motionless on a tree branch, silently awaiting his would-be killers. He didn’t realize who the true prey really was.
After about half a quarter-hour, the group arrived. *They found me fast*, Qin Jun mused. *Must’ve used tracking magic. I’ll need a magic reflection ward next time—maybe that dragon clan one. Immune to all spells.*
Three black-clad figures emerged, nearly identical. The leader stepped forward bluntly. “You’re Dante?”
Qin Jun yawned. “Yep, that’s me. You even got my name? Guess that slave shop’s deeply tied to you.”
The lead assassin sneered. “You don’t need to know details. Hand over your money now, and we’ll leave your body intact.”
Qin Jun chuckled dryly. “Seriously? I give you cash, and *then* you spare my corpse? Either way, I’m dead.”
The assassin grunted. “No more talk. Three seconds to decide.”
Qin Jun stayed smiling, silent, swaying gently on the branch.
“One.”
No reaction from Qin Jun.
“Two.”
He plucked a leaf and wiped it casually.
“Three.”
As Qin Jun popped the leaf into his mouth, the assassins lunged like hounds unleashed, aiming to kill. Glowing enchanted daggers flashed in their hands.
But just millimeters from Qin Jun, their bodies froze—time itself seemed to halt.
Terror flooded their eyes. *How?* Their intel said he was just a rich kid, level twenty-something. This wasn’t level twenty—this screamed level ninety!
Only level ninety-plus warriors gained domains, like Frost Domain, crushing enemies within. This felt exactly like that.
The young man rose, hovering midair, glaring down coldly. “Who sent you?” His voice echoed from the abyss; refusal meant plummeting into darkness.
They crumbled instantly. “The slave shop owner!”
*Huh. No torture needed?* Qin Jun thought, amused. *Same puppet master I suspected. That greedy owner’s days are numbered.*
His face stayed icy, unnerving them. *Even after talking, will we die?*
Qin Jun nodded. “Smart choice.” He crouched, snatching one dagger and tracing their throats. Their eyes bulged in panic. “Unlike you three, I don’t kill needlessly. I’ll spare you—if you become my slaves. I need hands. Deal?”
He released them. No domain magic—that’d make them explode. Just a binding spell, useless to most mages but divine for Qin Jun. At level 999, he could freeze anyone weaker by a hundred levels.
They dropped to their knees without hesitation. Nothing mattered more than life.
Qin Jun conjured three contracts. “Sign. Then report your details so I can use you.”
They signed obediently, introducing themselves.
The leader, Amov, was a 36-level assassin and mercenary—a middle-aged man.
Qin Jun eyed him. “What’s the difference between mercenaries and adventurers?”
Amov replied, “Adventurers have Guild approval. They take legit Guild quests—like slaying Monstrous Beasts. The Guild’s strict; its chief is honorable. Pay’s low unless it’s a tough job. Mercenaries? We do anything for enough coin. Even killing.” He winced, remembering his failed attempt.
Qin Jun waved a hand. “Go on.”
“The Mercenaries’ Guild? It’s a joke—just a job board. Without its badge, we’re bandits.”
Qin Jun grinned. “Guess I’ll join the Adventurers’ Guild for fun. Aren’t all the fierce, pretty girls there?”
The assassins almost laughed but stifled it.
Qin Jun noticed but shrugged. “You two, hurry up. Dawn’s coming.”
The twins—identical under black robes, surprisingly handsome—introduced themselves. Ke Xi and Ke Dong. *North and South?* Qin Jun mused, already planning how to torment them. Both were assassin-mercenaries. *Perfect. I’ll have them handle my dirty work.*
Once done, Qin Jun ordered, “Guard this spot. Wait for a man named Fulun. He’s your new boss. Obey him. Understood?”
They knelt. “Understood.”
Qin Jun left them and drifted to sleep.
The trio groaned inwardly—they craved rest too—but dared not disobey. They cursed their rotten luck, unaware that serving Qin Jun would grant them power beyond dreams.
