Professional Assassin C20

Chapter 20: Completing job in the Court World (1)

After sending Zhao Shuyang the photo of Shen Junyu’s death and receiving the final payment, Lin Yuetian began addressing his final task: freeing himself from the fate of being a substitute. However, his approach once again went beyond the system’s expectations.

First, Lin Yuetian, using the identity of Assistant Li Yi, met with Bai Li. As a “friend,” he kindly informed Bai Li that Shen Junyu was on a business trip, but before leaving, Shen Junyu seemed to still have lingering thoughts about Lin Yuetian, the substitute. Lin Yuetian earnestly advised Bai Li, saying that Lin Yuetian’s face, which resembled Bai Li’s, would always be a problem. If left unresolved, it would forever be a thorn in Bai Li and Shen Junyu’s relationship.

Bai Li was not someone who hid his emotions well. From his expression, Lin Yuetian could tell he had successfully planted a seed in Bai Li’s heart with just a few words. With a bit of opportunity, that seed would take root and grow.

Determined to see things through to the end, Lin Yuetian decided to provide the opportunity himself. If he planted the seed, he would also water it.

Following the method Zhao Shuyang had prepared for the “Nameless Killer” to escape attention, Lin Yuetian went abroad to “lay low.” While abroad, he called Bai Li again, this time using his “Nameless Killer” persona. Playing this role was clearly Lin Yuetian’s forte. Starting with, “You don’t need to speak, just listen,” he got straight to the point. He asked Bai Li if he loved Shen Junyu. If he did, would Bai Li want to completely resolve the issue of Lin Yuetian, the hidden threat? If so…

“I’m a killer. Pay me.”

From Bai Li’s attitude toward Lin Yuetian’s original body, it was clear that Bai Li wasn’t particularly smart, but he wasn’t entirely naive either. He likely understood Shen Junyu’s tendencies and couldn’t be oblivious to the misfortunes Lin Yuetian’s original self had suffered. Yet Bai Li had no sympathy for him, viewing Lin Yuetian merely as an eyesore. Bai Li’s moral compass wasn’t high; it was practically nonexistent. This was Lin Yuetian’s assessment.

The system wanted to argue, but unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), facts proved Lin Yuetian’s judgment was accurate.

After much hesitation, Bai Li still transferred the payment.

The system reluctantly admitted it felt a little relieved: being Lin Yuetian’s client was far better than being his target.

After receiving the money, Lin Yuetian went to the kitchen, picked up a fruit knife, and, without hesitation, made two or three cuts on his face. The system was stunned the entire time, watching Lin Yuetian take a selfie and send it to Bai Li.

“You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

Bai Li was so terrified that he ended up in the hospital.

“Task one, freeing oneself from the substitute identity, is complete. All tasks are completed. Congratulations to the host on earning 1,000 points as a reward,” the system said with some hesitation. “…There are items in the shop that can restore your appearance. Do you want one?”

“No need for unnecessary expenses,” Lin Yuetian replied decisively, thanking the system for its kindness but declining. “Luxury is easy; frugality is hard. This isn’t my body anyway, and I can disguise myself. It’s unnecessary.”

“Can I ask you a question?” the system inquired.

“Feel free. Don’t be so formal.”

“…Why didn’t you kill Bai Li?”

Lin Yuetian looked surprised. “What do you take me for?”

The system answered honestly: “A cold-blooded psychopath.”

Lin Yuetian, dissatisfied, provided a well-reasoned explanation: “I’m not a psychopath, nor do I empathize with the original body’s love or hatred, so I’m not avenging him. I think you understand that. I do things solely to make money, complete tasks, and pursue efficiency. Human emotions are too complicated, and trying to navigate them would be too slow, and it’s not my area of expertise. I’m not some madman; I’m just a killer. I don’t like killing—it’s just that killing is what I’m good at, and it’s my job. Playing to one’s strengths while avoiding weaknesses is my creed.”

Perhaps because it had been startled too many times, the system felt slightly moved by these words. “…Sorry, I misjudged you…”

“Besides, no one paid me to kill Bai Li. Killing without payment is essentially working for free. It’s like throwing money into a river…” Lin Yuetian continued, then paused, puzzled. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

The system wanted to slap itself, but lacking hands, it expressed its frustration by chanting in Lin Yuetian’s mind.

—

Lin Yuetian was clearly thriving in the modern world.

After discovering an assassin organization, he immediately joined and spent a few years expanding his business. By the time he reached his forties, feeling his body declining and the thrill fading, he decided to retire.

“Big brother, you’re my big brother,” the system said earnestly. “I can’t control you anymore. I just beg you to give me a heads-up before doing something bizarre. Not knowing in advance gives me too many shocks.”

Lin Yuetian looked helpless. “But I don’t know what your standard for ‘bizarre’ is.”

“Then report to me every minute,” the system coldly replied.

—

When Lin Yuetian opened his eyes again, he found himself lying in a dark, damp room wearing ancient clothing. Above him, a broken white silk ribbon hung from the ceiling beam.

Suicide by hanging—a common cause of death. But after surveying his surroundings and sensing his condition, Lin Yuetian’s expression changed slightly. He then reached down to touch a certain key feature of his male anatomy.

“Uh…” Lin Yuetian was momentarily at a loss for words. It was hard not to suspect the system of abusing its authority for personal revenge. “Am I a eunuch this time?”

The system was equally shocked. “What the hell?! I swear I didn’t know!! This world is supposed to be one of monarchs and courtiers. I read some plot summaries, but I didn’t finish them… But logically, this shouldn’t have happened…”

“It’s fine,” Lin Yuetian said, seeing the system’s flustered state and even comforting it. “It’s not my body anyway, and I don’t really use it.”

The system, ashamed and guilt-ridden, replied, “That’s not the point… A man can choose not to, but he shouldn’t be unable to.”

Lin Yuetian corrected, “It’s not that I can’t. It’s that I don’t have.”

The system almost choked, quickly changing the subject. “Uh… Let’s focus on retrieving the memories.”

This world was indeed one of monarchs and courtiers. The original Lin Yuetian had been the top-ranked scholar during the 28th year of the previous emperor’s reign. He was immensely talented and stunningly handsome, earning the highest honors in the imperial examination and possessing a bright future. He might even have been chosen as a son-in-law by a noble family.

Unfortunately, fate intervened, and the original body met the ninth prince, Zheng Hongxuan. From their first meeting, Lin Yuetian fell deeply in love, and the two quickly developed a relationship that transcended the bond between monarch and subject. The original body devoted himself entirely to Zheng Hongxuan, aiding him in ascending to the throne. Soon, Zheng Hongxuan became emperor, and Lin Yuetian, for his meritorious service, reached the pinnacle of his career, seemingly on the verge of achieving his grand ambitions.

But when the birds are gone, the bow is put away; when the cunning hare is caught, the hunting dog is cooked. Zheng Hongxuan, now emperor, grew wary of Lin Yuetian’s overwhelming influence and ultimately accused him of treason, leading to the execution of his entire family last year. Only Lin Yuetian himself was spared.

For reasons unknown, Zheng Hongxuan didn’t kill Lin Yuetian but had him castrated and forced to serve incognito in the harem as a eunuch for his favored consort, Lin Guifei. As a proud and talented man of noble birth and high status, the original Lin Yuetian couldn’t endure such humiliation and hanged himself in the small, shabby chamber reserved for eunuchs that very night.