I stared at the figures leaping lightly onto the trees.
Each one was wrapped head to toe in black.
A heavy killing intent rolled off them.
[Assassins, eh.]
That’s what they were.
Which organization they belonged to, whether they were from that “Knight-something” assassin guild the informant mentioned, or how they managed to find me—questions surfaced one after another.
But there was no way of knowing now.
Not unless I captured a few and tortured them.
One thing was certain: they weren’t ordinary.
To strike when Shushruta was away—and when I was in the middle of a bath no less—meant they had planned this carefully.
‘And yet Shushruta didn’t notice them?’
That meant they were skilled at hiding.
I sighed.
Couldn’t even take a bath in peace.
Their movements weren’t ordinary either.
Each of them was at least capable of using mana.
Otherwise, they couldn’t move with such speed.
I flailed my hands and mumbled through the dagger clenched in my teeth.
“How many of you are there?”
The problem was, with the dagger in my mouth, I couldn’t speak properly.
‘Damn it.’
If my mouth were free, I could provoke them with words, throw them off balance, seize the initiative.
Even if I failed, I could still unsettle them or roar with enough force to show my spirit. That alone could tilt a fight.
Instead, I could only taste bitterness on my tongue.
The black-clad men offered no reply. Instead, they hurled daggers.
I thought to myself,
‘Silent types, huh.’
Which, according to one of our Sherwood Mercenary Company’s talkative, retired assassins, meant they weren’t particularly skilled.
That was my conclusion, at least, as I plunged underwater to avoid the blades.
I watched from beneath the surface as their daggers splashed into the water with soft thunk-thunk-thunks.
The sight, mingled with sunlight piercing through the stream, was unexpectedly beautiful.
Once in water, the daggers lost speed quickly. Dodging them wasn’t hard.
But they didn’t relent, flinging dagger after dagger, waiting for me to come up for air.
They intended to strike in that one fleeting moment.
‘Hmm.’
[So, what now?]
‘Simple.’
I unfurled Night Sky beneath the water.
Soon, a black canopy of stars shimmered faintly on the surface.
I spread it thin, blotting out their vision.
Still, the assassins kept throwing blades blindly, estimating my position.
Thunk-thunk-thunk!
I watched the ripples above. When their barrage quieted, I broke the surface.
“Pwah!”
With one deep breath, I gauged their numbers and positions.
They were still perched on the trees like cowards, raining daggers without daring to descend.
But the instant my head popped up, steel rained down again, forcing me to dive back.
I repeated this a few times.
Of course, they didn’t have infinite daggers.
When the blades ran out, they would have no choice but to engage directly.
That was my plan: exhaust their supply and lure them into my battlefield.
So, like some playful fish, I popped my head up again and again, draining their weapons.
At last, the storm of steel stopped.
‘There we go.’
Now their bodies would fall instead.
But there was a problem.
I was unarmed.
My longsword had been taken when I was bathing, and the dagger in my mouth was far too short for comfort.
[So, what will you do now?]
‘I’ll improvise. If there are no teeth, use the gums.’
I thought for a moment, then stripped off my undergarments.
I poured starlight into them.
The underwear began to shine like the heavens.
[…]
‘Behold, star-forged underwear.’
Satisfied, I nodded and surfaced.
At that moment, three assassins leapt down with swords drawn.
“Pbahs mah hom bahah!”
I tried to shout “Taste my underwear!” but the dagger muffled me.
Hopefully, the intent carried. Finding out a comrade was killed by underwear would leave a scar deeper than any wound.
I proudly revealed my sparkling, starlight underwear.
Then I lashed it like a whip.
The star-charged fabric stretched far beyond its size, snapping through the air with tremendous force.
Crack!
One assassin was split diagonally in half.
‘Oh.’
I was even impressed.
I didn’t stop there. With a twist of my body, I swung again.
The assassins tried to block with their swords, but the shining fabric bent mid-air like a whip and tore straight through them.
Shhhrrk!
Black-clad bodies split apart, tumbling into the stream with splashes.
I stared in shock at the weapon in my hand.
‘What the hell… Is my underwear stronger than a sword?’
Even after watching their comrades die so horribly, the assassins pressed on, leaping at me with blades bared.
But I was giddy with discovery, felling them one by one with swings of my starlit undergarments.
Crack! Slash!
Water sprayed, glinting with starlight, as my weapon carved through them.
Some tried poison needles, but after surviving Linda’s tea party, such toxins were laughable.
The Heavenly Demon’s chuckling filled my head.
Their skill wasn’t bad, but not top-tier either.
All were mana users, yes, but not a single aura user among them.
They were weaker than Shushruta’s slain brothers, Jack and James.
Which made sense—true aura users were rare, even mana users were few.
Still, the old assassin’s theory kept proving eerily accurate.
I once mocked his words. Now, I felt a shiver at how sharp his insight had been.
‘Dupain… just what kind of man were you?’
Even so, I had to admit, this was a fine group of killers.
To move in perfect unison without a word—impressive.
But sometimes, one overwhelming individual can crush a dozen decent ones.
Especially in a chaotic melee, underwater, with a man wielding underwear.
As I mowed them down with my starlight whip, something caught my eye.
A blade—too white and gleaming for these shadowy assassins to wield.
‘My sword!’
The precious weapon, gifted to me by Bokshil and Kyung.
The thief who had stolen my sword was right there.
“Thieving bastard!”
I roared with fury and lashed my shining underwear at him.
I was careful—painfully careful—not to strike the blade.
Slash!
The fabric sliced through his legs and arms one after another.
Splash!
My sword sank into the water along with the crippled thief.
Once I had finished cutting down the rest of the black-clad assassins that continued to rain from above, I dove under.
Some of the survivors fled after realizing defeat, but chasing them naked wasn’t nearly as important as recovering my sword.
The blood clouding the water made it difficult, but after fumbling for a while, I finally retrieved my precious blade.
Rising back onto the bank, I raised it high toward the sun and roared in triumph.
I wanted to shout, “Victory belongs to the Starlight Underwear, you bastards!” but with the dagger still clenched between my teeth, even I couldn’t tell what noise I actually made.
Not that it mattered.
No one was around to hear anyway.
At that moment, the rustle of leaves reached my ears, and Shushruta burst from the forest.
“Ashuban! Are you all right? What in the world was that dreadful—” She stopped short.
Our eyes met.
There I stood, frozen mid-pose like a statue of some ancient hero, naked, sword held aloft in a victory salute.
I dropped the dagger from my mouth.
“Oh, you’re back?”
The dagger clattered to the ground.
Her eyes instinctively followed its fall downward before snapping back up.
Her pale face flushed scarlet.
Her hands trembled.
“Y-You… you fool!”
Her ears burned red like apples as she squeezed her eyes shut and flung a bundle of clothes at me.
I changed into a fresh pair of underwear.
As I pulled on the clothes Shushruta had brought, she hurried off after the fleeing assassins, avoiding me entirely.
Before I could stop her, she returned, dragging an unconscious figure in black.
I straightened my outfit and asked, “What about the rest?”
She averted her gaze and answered, “Some I killed. Some escaped.”
“I see.”
“Yes.”
Her ears were still red as she spoke.
Come to think of it, shouldn’t I be the embarrassed one? Why was she the one blushing like mad?
I felt a twinge of injustice, but let it go.
I was a magnanimous man.
“Heh heh. At last, the time has come to use Acupuncture Strikes.”
Really, Acupuncture Strikes weren’t particularly useful for killing.
The technique required channeling inner energy into your fingertip and jabbing a precise point.
In the chaos of a real fight, when both sides moved frantically, executing it was difficult and bothersome.
It was far easier and more satisfying to simply beat an enemy to death.
But when it came to subduing without killing—or tormenting a helpless foe like now—this technique could shine.
In a solemn voice, I asked, “Sister, may I interrogate this one?”
“…Do as you please.” Shushruta replied, eyes fixed elsewhere.
“Excellent.”
I hauled the man to the stream, propped his legs upward, and splashed water across his face.
Water rushed up his nose, and he awoke with a violent fit of coughing.
The instant he realized he’d been captured, he tried to bite down—likely on poison hidden in his molars for suicide.
“Not a chance.”
My finger shot out, striking the hinge of his jaw.
His mouth froze in place.
Zap!
I followed with a series of jabs, locking down his meridians until he was completely immobile.
Only his wide, frantic eyes darted about.
His muscles were paralyzed, his consciousness fully intact.
I laid a hand on his shoulder and asked gently,
“Feeling clear now?”
To put it simply:
Whatever I did, he couldn’t lift a finger. He had to endure every sensation, eyes wide open, completely at my mercy.
He couldn’t even beg for mercy, since I had sealed that meridian too.
One might ask—what’s the point of torture if he can’t talk?
But that wasn’t the point.
The point was that I could finally use Acupuncture Strikes freely, something I’d long regretted not practicing enough.
“Hohoho…”
Truthfully, practicing on Shushruta hadn’t been enough. I needed more study, more experimentation.
And now, the perfect test subject had arrived.
Whether or not he revealed useful information was irrelevant.
At last, the assassin seemed to understand his predicament. Terror flooded his gaze.
I looked into his eyes and said, “Time for interrogation. If you know something, you’d best spill it.”
“I am a generous man. I’ll give you one last chance. I’ll count to three. If you tell me everything I need before then, I’ll let you go peacefully. Do you understand?”
“…”
“Good. Perfectly understood. Now, I’ll count. Three. Two. One.”
He jerked, trying desperately to speak, but only choked sounds emerged.
“Too late!”
I sighed with mock regret.
“Hmm. A rare assassin with real backbone.”
Grinning, I patted his shoulder.
“Let’s have a nice, deep conversation. If you ever feel like talking, just raise your hand.”
Then I leaned close to his ear and whispered,
“Of course… only if you can.”
(End of Chapter)