Chapter 6 – The Last Person to Kill (Part Two)

When Ru Ye walked into the secret chamber, seven people were already standing inside, neatly divided into two rows, four on the left and three on the right.

She took her place at the very front of the left row.

This arrangement followed a strict order: the further forward one stood, the higher the status. The left side held higher status than the right.

Many years ago, she had already reached the head of the left row.

Before reaching her position, her peripheral vision had already taken in everyone present.

There were ten Demon-class assassins in total. Including her, eight had arrived. The time was already up. No one else would be coming.

Two were absent. One newcomer stood at the end of the right row. He had an ordinary appearance, his left hand gripping a knife, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze straight ahead.

No one spoke.

There was no friendship or affection among them. Aside from occasionally carrying out missions together, they had little to do with one another in ordinary times.

They were assassins. They had no feelings.

Ye Shengxiang had already returned. She stood at the end of the left row with an icy expression, showing no signs of distress.

Ru Ye had no particular bond with Ye Shengxiang either, but it was undeniable that they made an excellent team.

It was precisely the relationship between them, like the cicada and the oriole joining forces to hunt the mantis, that had given rise to so many true and false rumors.

In terms of martial arts skill, Ye Shengxiang was far from worthy of the title top assassin. Yet she was an outstanding assistant. Whether in seductive appearance, lightness skill, charm techniques, cunning, ruthlessness, or acting, she was definitely among the very best choices for an assassin.

Over the years, Ye Shengxiang had worked alongside other assassins to complete many perfect missions.

Because she always stood brilliantly in the spotlight, the legend arose that the number one assassin was a stunningly beautiful woman.

Outside the Stronghold, Ye Shengxiang was an alluring soul-stirring beauty with a thousand charms. But inside the Stronghold, her expression was no different from any other assassin’s.

The Stronghold was a place that made people feel nothing but cold.

The Stronghold—the most mysterious, most terrifying, and largest assassin organization in the martial arts world.

“There is no one the Stronghold dares not kill, and no one the Stronghold cannot kill”—that was how the martial arts world judged the Stronghold.

Once anyone became a target of the Stronghold, it was as if they had stepped through the gates of hell.

With a decade-long record of never failing, the Stronghold charged exorbitant prices.

No one could bargain with the Stronghold. What the Stronghold demanded was sometimes vast sums of money, sometimes land, sometimes territory, and sometimes even people.

Thus, the Stronghold possessed many hidden fortunes and territories throughout the land.

All of this was controlled entirely by the master of the Stronghold—Xuanyuan Guiren.

No one knew just how much wealth Xuanyuan Guiren possessed. Almost no one had ever seen his true face, except for them—the Demon-class assassins of the Stronghold. They were the elite. The Stronghold’s power and terror existed largely because of them.

Yet even they rarely saw Xuanyuan Guiren. Generally, they only saw him when he issued important missions, convened important meetings, or held the semi-annual routine gathering.

Today was the semi-annual gathering, the day for receiving the antidote.

Every assassin’s expression was cold and indifferent, as if they were the only one present.

They were under the direct control of the Stronghold Master. Behind each of them lurked many shocking and earth-shattering secrets.

Eighty or ninety percent of the mysterious deaths and disappearances of major figures in the martial arts world were connected to people in this room.

Ru Ye could remember anyone she had ever encountered, especially those related to herself. She never forgot a single one.

There were ten Demon-class assassins. Judging by today’s attendance, at least one had died, otherwise no new face would have appeared. The two absent were presumably not faring well with their missions.

Receiving the antidote was extremely important. Unless they were in an inescapable situation, no one would be late or absent.

The pain of the poison taking effect in one’s body was worse than death. Even they, who had killed countless times, trembled at the thought of it.

Just as she was quietly speculating, the stone gate behind her slowly closed. The torches on the walls lit up.

The stone wall in front of them slowly opened, revealing two figures. One sat on a stone chair, and the other stood beside him. They were the Stronghold Master, Xuanyuan Guiren, and his strategist, Han Mouji.

After the assassins paid their respects, Han Mouji swept his gaze over the assembly and said in a flat, mechanical voice, “The expected attendance for this meeting was ten. Eight are actually present. One is en route. One is on a mission. One assassin originally failed his mission and died. The replacement is Leng Yinghan, ranked tenth.”

The black-robed man standing at the end of the right row clasped his fists and bowed to everyone, speaking in a flat tone, “Leng Yinghan pays respects to senior brothers and sisters.”

No one reacted. Leng Yinghan didn’t seem to mind at all.