On the street outside Favna Trading House, a man and a woman stood at the corner, their eyes flicking repeatedly toward the entrance.

"Hmph. Sending *two* people just to assassinate a mere Spirit Glyphsmith? What’s the Guild Master thinking? Does he look down on me?" The man scowled, radiating clear irritation.

Beside him, the woman shot him a cold, disdainful glare. "The Guild Master’s just paranoid. So he dodged one ambush by some unknown killer? I alone am more than enough to finish him. In this town, *I’m* the top assassin—no one escapes my blade."

Their glares crackled with mutual contempt and thick killing intent, as if either might strike at any second.

After a tense silence, the male assassin sneered first. "Top assassin? Your so-called skills are pathetic—more like some bed warmer the Guild Master hired for those Glyphsmiths. Remember the Black Casino boss? You failed *miserably*. Nearly became their plaything—"

"Shut up about me!" she snapped back. "Your 'assassination' was a joke! Ordered to wipe out that knockoff Magical Girl Monkey Burn workshop next town over, you charged straight in and slaughtered twenty people—including neighbors! That’s not stealth! The Guild Master nearly got arrested because of you!"

"Who says it wasn’t assassination? Everyone who saw me died. No witnesses. I like cleaning up loose ends. I enjoy the screams. Got a problem with that?" His eyes turned icy. He jabbed a finger at her. "Stay back. I handle this kill alone. Try to steal my target, and I’ll add you to the body count."

"Fine. Let’s see you perform," the female assassin said with a hint of wariness, stepping back two paces. *Perfect*, she thought inwardly, a flicker of satisfaction hidden beneath her calm. *This idiot doesn’t know Su Hong survived a prior hit—and that unknown assassin was a true Spirit Cardmaster, someone even the Deacon admitted fearing. Let him test the waters first. After his failed strike, Su Hong will lower his guard. I’ll learn his tricks… then strike from the shadows. If this psycho gets wounded? Even better. One clean finish. All the credit—and the reward—will be mine.*

Just then, Su Hong strolled out of the trading house, stretching lazily. After bidding farewell to Favna, he yawned and rubbed the corner of his eye. Waiting through the auction and its tedious settlement had left him slumped on a sofa for hours—staying awake was already a feat.

"Ugh… never doing this again. But Favna treats me like her lifeline. Can’t just quit now…" He shuffled forward, body swaying with each step, the very picture of exhaustion.

As he neared the corner, a man with hands in his pockets stepped into the road, turned, and faced him. Hood pulled back, a bloodthirsty grin spread across his face. A Spirit Card Slot gleamed on his arm. "You’ve got three seconds to scream. After that? You’re a corpse."

Light erupted from the Slot, coiling up his arm into a long, vicious hook-claw wreathed in faint poison mist.

Su Hong recognized the face instantly—definitely not Lia’s grandfather playing tricks. *So… Chris Guild really made their move? Perfect!* His eyes lit up. "I won’t scream. Hurry up—let’s begin!!"

The sheer, eager bloodlust in Su Hong’s voice sent a visceral chill down the assassin’s spine. It wasn’t that Su Hong was annoying—it was the horror of meeting someone *more* unhinged. This wasn’t fear. It was a challenge from a deeper level of madness.

"I’LL KILL YOU!" the assassin roared, voice cracking with fury. "I’LL SMASH YOUR SKULL AND HACK OFF YOUR LIMBS!"

Su Hong broke into a cold sweat—not from fear of the assassin, but dread that *luck itself* might strike first. The man had just shouted forbidden words. Instant death wasn’t out of the question.

He frantically channeled mana into his waist-mounted Spirit Card Slot. Light swirled into his palms, threads of radiance weaving swiftly into a bow—nearly identical to the auctioned one, minus the feathers.

The assassin lunged forward with a mocking laugh. "Fancy tricks! You won’t even get a shot off!"

In a single breath, he closed the dozen-meter gap. Poison mist trailed the hook-claw as it slashed toward Su Hong’s throat.

Su Hong flinched like a startled novice, loosing the bowstring wildly without aiming. Dozens of faint light arrows *whooshed* out—scattered, weak—and the assassin dodged them effortlessly.

"Pathetic! Die reflecting on your worthless skills!" He surged forward, hook-claw slicing down diagonally for Su Hong’s neck.

But the sluggish, panicked boy vanished. A eerie smile flashed across Su Hong’s face. "Really? How sad. If I were you… I’d have written my will five seconds ago."

In one fluid motion, he nocked, arched backward, and leaped—twisting like a shrimp dodging a predator’s strike, slipping cleanly past the claw’s edge.

Stunned but seasoned, the assassin pressed the attack without pause. Hook-claw flashed, poison mist spraying like a deadly blossom.

Then—Su Hong stopped retreating. Dropped into a crouch.

Confused, the assassin raised his claw for a finishing blow—when *whoosh-whoosh-whoosh!* Dozens of faint arrows streaked horizontally like a meteor shower, piercing his chest and abdomen in an instant.

He stared in disbelief at the fading light arrows vanishing beyond his body. Bloodlust still burned in his eyes, but his mana severed. The hook-claw dissolved.

Su Hong rose calmly. "This bow? I call it *Circuitous*. No aiming needed. It always curves back… toward *me*. I’m not skilled. I don’t fight well. But I kill. I win."

The assassin glared, throat gurgling as if trying to speak—but collapsed with a soft *thud*, face-first onto the cobblestones.