The Soul-Destroying Market lay thirty li south of the Soul-Destroying Sect's gates. Rather than a proper market, it was more of a chaotic town that had sprung up around a gathering of independent cultivators and outer sect disciples of the demonic path, with stalls lining both sides of its main street.
Demonic beast materials, incomplete cultivation arts, magical artifacts of dubious origin-it had everything. A certain order prevailed on the streets; rumor had it that a Golden Core Stage elder of the Soul-Destroying Sect watched over the market.
Late at night, a man wearing a black iron mask depicting a green ghost slipped inside under cover of darkness. He was Green Ghost, a Black Iron Rank assassin of the Heavenly South Soul Chasers, an assassin organization that had grown fairly well-known in the Wangshui Kingdom over the past year or two.
Dressed in night gear, he moved through the darkness of the Soul-Destroying Market, walking unhurriedly along the main street. His gaze seemed to sweep casually over the stalls on either side, but in truth, he had already committed most of the street's layout and the distribution of people to memory.
This was his habit. Whenever he entered an unfamiliar place, he always learned his surroundings as quickly as possible. Where the side roads were, where the blind spots lay, where an ambush would work best, where escape would be easiest-he noted every piece of vital information.
Reaching a rooftop, he looked toward the far end of the western street. His target for this mission was in that house: an Inner Sect disciple of the Soul-Destroying Sect at middle Foundation Establishment.
Two outer sect disciples of the Soul-Destroying Sect stood outside the entrance, black broadswords hanging at their waists. They chatted intermittently, their expressions lax, clearly not believing anyone would dare cause trouble on the sect's territory.
Judging by their cultivation, they were only at the eighth or ninth level of Qi Refining and posed little threat to Chen Ming. But if he caused a disturbance, the Soul-Destroying Sect's patrol would arrive within half an incense stick's time.
Once he was close enough to the pair, Chen Ming took the Soul-Dazing Powder from his Storage Bag and used the Object Manipulation Art to send it drifting toward them. Before long, both slumped to the ground, snoring fast asleep!
At the sight, Chen Ming used Shrouding Smoke Steps and leaped into the house in an instant. He stopped outside one of the rooms and, to be safe, took out the Soul-Dazing Smoke and blew it inside.
Then he held his breath, quietly pushed the door open, and entered. At the bedside, he saw a man and a woman lying together, the woman's arms wrapped tightly around the man. Chen Ming hurriedly took out the portrait and began comparing it carefully.
"Mm! That's right!"
After studying her carefully and confirming he had the right person, Chen Ming drew the Ghost-Head Saber and reached out with one hand to seize the woman's long hair. With a reverse-handed slash, he drove the blade upward between their close-pressed bodies and cut her head clean off. He instantly took out a brocade box, placed the head inside, and stowed it in his Storage Bag.
Then he slipped quietly out the door, hurriedly used Shrouding Smoke Steps, and dashed away, disappearing from the market along his planned route.
Chen Ming had joined this assassin organization a year earlier, and he had also cultivated the True Explanation of a Hundred Poisons to its second level.
The True Explanation of a Hundred Poisons had only five levels in total, each corresponding to a cultivation realm! Thus, Chen Ming had only cultivated it to the second level so far.
However, he had not merged its true essence with that of the Heaven and Earth Five Elements Art. Instead, he had opened his middle dantian to keep the poison true essence separate.
Chen Ming knew very well that, as an independent cultivator, he was desperately short of resources, and the Heavenly South Soul Chasers happened to offer a quick way to earn money. Take a contract, kill someone, collect Spirit Stones-clean and decisive, without any unnecessary emotional entanglements.
Over the past year, he had completed numerous assassinations, rising from the lowest Gray-Tag Rank to Black Iron Rank.
The organization's ranks were divided into Gray Iron, Black Iron, Bronze, Silver, Gold, and the legendary highest rank, Purple Gold.
Advancement through each rank required completing a specified number of missions. There was no restriction on how many or how few one could take. In short, the more one did, the more one earned. Doing nothing was also an option, but that meant receiving nothing.
If Chen Ming wanted to save enough resources to attempt a breakthrough to Golden Core, he would have to reach at least Bronze Rank, or even Silver!
He never scouted a site before striking, nor did he linger near places his targets frequented. His habit was to confirm the target's location from afar, apply tracking powder, then withdraw. He would wait until the target left a crowded place full of prying eyes and returned home or passed through an isolated stretch of road before making his move.
This was the experience he had distilled from those assassinations: striking in a crowded setting involved too many variables.
There was no telling whether a hidden expert lurked among the onlookers, or whether the target had brought extra guards.
The true moment to hunt came on the target's return journey, when their guard had dropped. Usually, that was when they were most relaxed all day. Some of their spiritual power had been depleted, their nerves were no longer taut, and even any attendants beside them would not be particularly vigilant.
Chen Ming leaned in the shadows deep within an alley, closed his eyes, and began regulating his breathing. His breaths were slow and deep, each inhalation and exhalation drawing the spiritual power within him into a gentle circulation.
The nature of the True Explanation of a Hundred Poisons made his spiritual power colder and more sinister than that of other cultivators. As it circulated, a faint chill ran through his meridians, like tiny needles of ice wandering through his blood vessels.
He had grown accustomed to this sensation and sometimes even found it comfortable-at least it proved he was still alive, still on the path to becoming stronger.
In the distance, a gambling house's wooden door creaked open. A clamor of laughter, curses, and clattering dice spilled out briefly before the closing door cut it off. Chen Ming did not open his eyes, but his right hand had already slipped soundlessly into his sleeve, his fingertips touching a cold needle tube.
The needle tube was about three inches long and slightly thicker than an ordinary embroidery needle. It had been ground from the leg bone of a demonic beast called "hollow bone," a hard material with a natural ability to evade detection.
An ordinary sweep of spiritual sense would mistake it for a simple bone ornament. The needle tube was hollow inside, filled with a venom Chen Ming had spent three months refining.
The venom's formula came from a deadly poison called the Jade-Phosphorus Heart-Eating Poison, recorded in the second level of the True Explanation of a Hundred Poisons. Its main ingredient was toxin from the tail stinger of a second-order Jade-Phosphorus Scorpion, supplemented with seven poisonous herbs, then boiled down into a concentrate.
Chen Ming had spent half a month lying in wait deep in the Azure Wolf Mountains before hunting down that Jade-Phosphorus Scorpion. While trying to capture it, he had nearly had his palm pierced by its venomous tail stinger. The poison of a second-order demonic beast was no laughing matter. Half his arm had remained swollen for three full days, and only by circulating his cultivation to force out the poison had he managed to save it.
But all of it had been worth it. The Jade-Phosphorus Heart-Eating Poison was ferociously potent, sealing the throat the instant it drew blood. Without a specially prepared antidote, a Foundation Establishment cultivator would collapse within three breaths. The poison would eat through every meridian in their body within a few short breaths, leaving them no chance even to send their Nascent Soul out of their body-though, of course, Foundation Establishment cultivators had no Nascent Soul to send out.
Chen Ming gently rubbed the needle tube's surface, feeling the faint movement of the liquid inside. This was his strongest trump card, the most formidable means of attack he could muster as an independent cultivator.
He had no high-grade magical artifacts, not even a decent defensive magical treasure. All he could rely on were the poison arts granted by the True Explanation of a Hundred Poisons, and a heart steadier than anyone else's.