My Ultimate Sign-in System Made Me Invincible - Chapter 279

Chapter 279: Poison?
Liam spent the entire afternoon inside the forge after finishing the first sword. The hours passed fast. The fire burned steady, the hammer strikes echoed in clean rhythm, and the heat inside the shop only grew heavier as the sun set outside.

By the end of the day, he had forged three more items from scratch: a spear, a longsword, and a short blade. They were simple weapons, but the quality was far from simple. Each one had perfect grip, clean balance, and a sharpness that could slice steel plates without effort.

Liam lifted the spear first, feeling its weight. The shaft, though not spiritual, was sturdy and smooth. The tip gleamed with a clean silver shine. It felt right. He nodded once and placed it on the table.

He picked up the longsword next. He swung it lightly. The blade cut through the air with a soft whistle, showing its balance and precision. He nodded again.

The short blade came last. It was small but deadly, with a sharp edge and a simple handle that fit perfectly in the hand. Liam felt satisfied.

“All three are good,” he said.

Master Han stood beside him, unable to hide his excitement. His eyes had been glued to Liam the entire time. He memorized every movement, every hammer strike, every adjustment and even the smallest twitch of Liam’s fingers.

Watching Liam forge was like watching the world open.

Master Han felt something inside him shift. It was like a barrier he didn’t know he had finally cracked open. His understanding of forging had grown in a single day more than it had in several years.

“I cannot thank you enough,” Master Han said with a voice full of respect. “From today onward… anything I forge will never be the same.”

“Glad you learned something,” Liam smiled.

Master Han carefully ran his hand along the spear and his fingers trembled slightly.

“These items…” he said. “I can sell them for a high price”

“That’s why I’m letting you sell them,” Liam replied calmly. “I will let you keep a fair cut.”

“Cut? No. I don’t need it. Just watching you is more than enough cut for me,” Master Han said.

Liam smiled and said nothing. He knew that trying to change Master Han’s mind would be hard, especially now that he takes him as his master.

“Arrange them properly on the stand. Make sure they are displayed on the front shelf,” Master Han instructed Luo.

Luo hurried over, picking up the three items with both hands. He walked toward the front section of the shop. There was no trace of his earlier arrogance.

Liam watched him go, then checked the time by the dark sky outside the window. Night was already here.

“It’s late,” he said. “I should head to the inn.”

Master Han looked at him with concern. “Be careful on your way. The Xuan and Fang families will not wait. They will come for you tonight or tomorrow. Or they will hire someone worse.”

Liam smiled lightly. “I know. I’m waiting for them.”

Master Han exhaled softly. He knew Liam wasn’t being arrogant. Liam was simply stating a fact. He had seen enough today to understand that Liam didn’t speak without reason. But that didn’t lessen his worry.

“Still… be careful,” Master Han repeated.

“I will,” Liam nodded. “Thank you for today.”

Master Han walked with him to the door and stopped there. “Come back anytime. My forge is always open for you.”

“I’ll return,” Liam said, lifting his jacket from a hook and slipping it on his arm.

He stepped out into the cool night air. The sky above Blackstone City was dark now. Oil lamps lit the streets. People walked in pairs or small groups, heading home or closing their shops.

Liam’s steps were slow and steady. He carried the sword he reforged earlier in a sheath over his shoulder. The metal made a soft sound with each step.

It took him a couple of minutes to reach the inn. The building was quiet and lanterns were hung by the door.

The hallway was silent, as he walked up the stairs to his room.

As he got close to his room, he stopped moving. His telekinetic sense picked up the outline of someone inside. A faint figure standing still in a corner of his room, with slow, controlled breathing.

“So predictable,” Liam smiled, muttering to himself. “They didn’t even wait until midnight.”

Without hesitation, he placed one hand on the door, pushed it open, and walked inside.

The room was slightly dark, as there was no lot source of light except for the light from the window, but Liam wasn’t bothered.

He closed the door behind him and walked toward the bed. He didn’t switch on the lamp. He didn’t summon any light. He simply dropped onto the bed, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling.

He waited for the assassin to make his move but even after a few minutes of waiting, nothing happened.

Liam sighed tiredly, as he sat up and turned to the corner of the room where the assassin was hiding.

“Are you waiting for me to fall asleep? Or do you want me to die from boredom first? Or hopefully die from anxiety?” He asked with annoyance on his face.

Silence filled the room for half a second, then a voice answered from the darkness.

“As expected of the Mad Demon,” the man said. His voice was low, calm and almost cold. “I guessed you would detect me the moment I entered. But that will not stop me from completing my mission.”

Liam sat up slowly, rubbing a hand across his forehead as if tired.

“I don’t have time for this,” he said. “I still need to rest.”

He stood up and stretched his arm casually.

“Let’s get this over with.”

Without another word, Liam reached out his hand toward the corner where the figure hid. His telekinetic force wrapped around the assassin instantly. The man jerked upward as if an invisible hook had grabbed him.

“What—!!” the assassin choked out as his body floated through the air.

He struggled, but the force held him firm.

He tried to steady his breath, but panic flickered in his eyes.

“How… how are you doing this?!”

Liam didn’t bother to answer. He simply pulled his hand closer, dragging the assassin through the air like a puppet.

But right when the assassin reached him, the man acted.

He pulled out a dagger and slashed Liam’s hand as fast as lightning.

The blade cut Liam’s skin and blood formed at the cut.

Liam felt the sting and his telekinetic force flickered, as he lost control of it for a moment. The assassin dropped to the floor and rolled back onto his feet.

He laughed maniacally as he watched the purple color spread across Liam’s hand. The madness in his eyes grew sharper, and his grin stretched wider.

“Hahaha! It’s useless!” he said, his voice shaking with twisted excitement. “You’ve been poisoned by Violet Serpent Venom. Even late-stage Foundation Establishment experts collapse the moment it enters their bloodstream.”

He lifted his dagger with pride and pointed it at Liam like he was announcing a verdict.

“Your flesh will rot from the inside. The poison will crawl through your veins, tear your organs apart one by one. You’ll feel every bit of it. You’ll die slow. Very slow.”

His grin widened. “Struggle all you want. No antidote exists.”

Throughout his speech, Liam didn’t move. He simply watched his own hand, tilting it slightly like he was examining a strange piece of art.

The purple spread up to his wrist, darkening with every passing breath. It should have been terrifying. It should have caused anyone else to panic. It should have made him fall to his knees.

Instead, Liam only sighed softly.

When the assassin proudly hissed, “You’ll die a slow death,”

Liam finally lifted his eyes, as a small smile crossed his face.

“And who decided that?” he asked.

The assassin froze mid-laugh.

“What…?”

Before he could speak further, Liam raised his hand higher into the faint light. The assassin watched closely—and his face slowly collapsed into horror.

The purple began to fade, simply disappearing like it had been wiped off by an invisible hand.

The color receded from Liam’s wrist…

then his palm… then the back of his hand…

until the skin returned to its normal tone, clean and unmarked—like the poison had never touched him.

The assassin staggered back.

“H–How…?!” he stuttered. “That… that venom kills everyone! No one recovers from it! Your blood should be boiling from the inside—how are you still standing?!”

Liam flexed his fingers casually, as if checking a stiff joint.

“No idea,” he replied softly. “Maybe your poison is just weak.”

The assassin’s eyes shook violently.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t in any scenario he imagined.

His target was supposed to be screaming, writhing, begging. Instead, the boy was perfectly fine and on his feet.

“What… what are you?” he whispered, as the fear finally set in.