The dying man's last words—"Dickhead Psycho"—still echoed in Ash's ears.
Blood streamed down his face, warm and sticky, sliding between his fingers as he pressed both hands to his skull. A chunk of bone and brain highlighted in the moonlight where his scalp had been torn apart. By all logic, he should already be dead.
Yet his breathing was steady. Calm.
Ash understood his condition better than any medic could. As the world's greatest assassin, he knew every nerve, every artery, every fragile thread of life within the human body. That knowledge had kept him alive in this underworld… but it wouldn't save him much longer.
He stood—or rather, staggered—on a rooftop soaked in blood. Corpses were piled around him like discarded puppets—throats slit, skulls blown apart, bodies riddled with bullets. A hundred of the world's top assassins, mafiosi, and killers-for-hire had come to end him. They had failed.
For two hours, he had danced with death—baiting them into killing each other, striking from the shadows, cutting down the survivors one by one. Now he was the last man standing.
Mission complete. That was all that mattered.
His eyes flicked to the nearest corpse. A hole through the forehead. Precise, final. Just as it should be.
"Doesn't matter how the task is done," he muttered, blood dripping from his lips. "Only that it's finished."
But even victory demanded its price. He had taken a bullet to the head—damage to the motor cortex. His professional mind spelled out the verdict coldly, Even if I survive, I'll never move my limbs again.
A living corpse. A cripple. He refused such an end.
"I'd rather die on my feet than rot in a chair."
The words tasted bitter, but true.
And yet… beneath his resolve, something stubborn clawed at him. A defiance older than reason, fiercer than death itself. He had stared into death's face countless times, always finding a way to spit back at it. His body faltered, but his will screamed one last order, Live.
Then the strength drained from him. His heartbeat slowed, vision dimmed, and at last, the rooftop fell silent.
Ash collapsed among the dead.
For a moment—perhaps an eternity—there was nothing.
Then came thought.
Am I dead?
No. I could think. I could question. And therefore I am.
His eyelids felt unbearably heavy. His head throbbed like molten iron.
Shit… did I end up in hell?
Ash had never believed in gods, souls, or afterlives. But if they existed, then surely he belonged in the darkest pit of them all. A man who had slain thousands could never claim heaven.
With effort, he forced his eyes open—
—and the world that greeted him was not the one he'd left behind.
He felt little uncomfortable opening his eyes but after getting accustomed to the bright light he saw an old wooden cavern broken.
There was chaos around him, people were screaming out of fear while a group of people held swords that were glistening in the sunlight.
The people who tried to defend themselves were killed mercilessly and even those who tried to bargain.
His thoughts wandered on his own condition, he looked like he was thrown out by someone to be safe but in the process he went unconscious.
A numbing feeling on his chest indicated that he was hit in his chest.
By his presence of mind he had already accustomed himself that it was either a second life and nothing looked like ordinary.
"Or have I gone crazy."
His hands reached for his sleeves where he hid his weapon all the time. But he found nothing, then his hands reached for his legs and this time he had a small dagger in his hands.
There were a total of five bandits equipped with ancient-time swords. He was in the cover of a large tree that seemed impossibly hard to recognize.
He took note of the condition, multiple caverns stood in the path and on both sides of the path there was an infinitely large forest.
"It's robbery," Ash made out the conditions.
It looked like these were some sort of merchants who were getting robbed.
He was already behind a tree when he woke up so he had already decided to head deep into the jungle leaving the people there to their own fate.
As an assassin, he knew when to back out and now clearly it was time to run. He was already confused by his own condition and he was not feeling himself.
It was an odd feeling, he remembered his body better than anyone and currently, it was not as powerful, not as quick.
"It's not my body," it clicked when he saw his hands and attire.
As he was about to run he felt footsteps approaching him from the front.
That indicated that his senses were also dull, he would have never let someone get so close to him.
"Give me your money, I will show you mercy by killing you in a single strike." The bandit laughed as he approached the tree. Despite his aloof tone, he was vigilant, ready to kill anyone.
He noticed a 16-year-old kid lying on the ground unconscious. Kicking the kid on the back he tried to wake him up yet got no response.
After careful consideration he knelt down and checked the pockets completely unaware that the kid held a dagger in his right hand and with a swift stab in the neck, the guy cried out loud in pain.
Nothing went as planned. The bandit clawed him unable to use a long sword in such close distance.
The force behind the bandit's push was throwing Ash off guard but he stood firm. Cold killing aura was palpable and Ash slammed himself into the tree and bounced back twice as fast.
The cut was not shallow nor was it too deep but Ash had one chance, his weak body couldn't be an excuse. As an assassin, his job was to kill, who cared how he executed, if not a clean strike then multiple weak strikes would do.
"Fuck this body," Ash cried out as his plan had almost failed.
There were many things that went wrong, he wanted to cover the bandit's mouth as he stabbed first so he could accomplish the task silently.
But having no control Ash grabbed the long sword and ran inside the forest as fast as he could.
Hearing the painful scream of their friend, other bandits were already there to see the incident.
They saw a lifeless man on the ground and a kid running deep into the forest holding a sword half as big as himself.
"How dare you? Stay here and keep others in check. I will be back after taking revenge for our beloved brother." Another tall bandit with a long beard said and ran towards Ash.
"What's this shit, am I a robot or what?" Ash cursed out seeing a transparent blue screen obstructing his view.
He was as meticulous as he had ever been and he already noticed some of the information written on the screen.
[ Profession has been tailored. ]
[ Profession: Modern Assassin ]
[ Level: 1 ]
[ AGILITY: 3 | ENDURANCE: 2 | STRENGTH: 1 | LUCK: 1 | MP: 10 ]
There was more to read but to his sake the screen had vanished as he cursed.
And now many things wandered in his mind but most importantly his senses were tingling. A large man almost double his size was on his tail and closing distance.