Generation of Emperors
A short while later, the group departing from Shin Sua's mansion gathered in front of the abandoned commercial building. With an elderly butler at the lead, flanked by plainclothes bodyguards and administrative staff—totaling nearly thirty people—Shin Sua looked every bit the chaebol heiress she was.
"Coordination with Argo is complete. The building owner, currently leasing the land, is preparing the sales documents."
"Incinerators for the Grand Offering sacrifices and altar construction have been arranged."
"If spirit energy-laced smoke leaks out, those pests might sniff out the Spirit Vein."
"No need to worry. We've prepared countermeasures."
"Specifically."
"We've ordered the ventilation system for the crematorium currently in pilot testing at headquarters, and we've requested support from the security team."
The butler and suited attendants answered without missing a beat, prompting Shin Sua to nod in satisfaction.
"The engagement ceremony is on the 25th, so the altar must be finished at least three days prior. Got it?"
"We'll complete it by the deadline, no matter what it takes."
Gemma whispered to me, clearly intrigued by the sight.
<Isn't she way too comfortable bossing people around at her age?>
"Obviously. You know how much wealth her family has."
<Our family had several maids and we were pretty well-off, but nothing like that.>
"It's Goryeo Group. Compare apples to apples."
It made sense that her self-esteem was sky-high, growing up surrounded by constant deference. Though I wasn't thrilled about her suddenly declaring I liked her earlier.
"Why the hell are you spouting nonsense all of a sudden?"
<Dramas always show girls like her marrying whoever their parents pick.>
Was that really how she learned about the world? No wonder her imagination ran wild.
<Don't overstep and get hurt.>
"Your imagination never quits."
She was like a nosy aunt, meddling in my relationships uninvited.
"Nothing she can't do. A chance to hold a Grand Offering at a Spirit Vein isn't something you can buy for any price."
That's what made them chaebols—the capital to execute whatever they wanted without hesitation. Speaking of money, I'd stashed plenty from the Bastards' vault, enough to grow if I invested wisely and cover my needs.
<But how did you even find this place? We've been stuck together 24/7, and you've never been around here.>
"Well..."
<Well?>
"I knew about the Spirit Vein here before we got your staff from that antique shop."
Gemma's eyes flashed briefly—proof her lie detection had triggered.
"Even if I found it, it'd just go to the landlord, so I was waiting for someone to buy it and lend it out."
<Hmm. Really?>
It wasn't a lie, so she let it slide.
Spirit Veins only formed on land.>
"Yeah. Normally impossible on a ship. A Spirit Vein forms from residual spirit energy pushed aside by ley line force fields."
Ley lines, as the name implied, were streams of terrestrial energy flowing like rivers. In the world of Blessings of the Ancestors, they were crucial resources, shaped by feng shui and historical imprints. Prolonged exposure empowered ancestor spirits immensely, sparking the "Great Relocation of Graves" phenomenon where Shangju worldwide moved ancestral tombs to ley line paths. Governments eventually took control, of course.
And right alongside ley lines, Spirit Veins drew attention. They formed in two ways: spirit energy pooling where ley lines twisted, or underground deposits erupting like geysers. The former in overcrowded metropolises like Shanghai where lines looped; the latter near buried ruins like Gyeongju or Rome.
"Hm?"
Now that I thought about it, this was odd. Why a Spirit Vein on a ship? Argo had mountains, lakes, beaches influencing feng shui, but no deep history or buried spirit deposits to form a ley line.
Maybe something unknown lurked deep beneath the decks where the school and buildings stood. The thought flickered, but I shelved it. Focus now: coax Shin Sua into letting everyone perform the Grand Offering. She was busy overseeing her staff, so I'd wait and approach carefully.
"...Man, I'm jealous. Owning property in your own name."
"Our family has some fields..."
A random memory from my 27-year-old civil servant days slipped out, and Mun Hee-jeong murmured softly from beside me.
"Oh, really?"
Right—her parents ran a cotton farm. Perfect timing. I'd planned to reconcile her with Seol Romi, who was hiding and watching us from afar, then head to Gyeongsang Province for their hidden opportunities. Strike while the iron's hot.
"Mind if I visit sometime? Summer break works. I've always wanted to see the countryside."
"Uh, w-well, it's just cotton fields in our village..."
"Sounds fun. Never seen a cotton field."
"There's really nothing to see. Just foreign workers from Africa..."
"Whoa, awesome. Do they use whips or something?"
"...Whips?"
<You trash bastard. Some things you just don't say—>
"Nothing. Just kidding—ignore me."
Who knew the thief cared so much about political correctness?
"You're not teasing me, right?"
"Why would I?"
"If you're really coming, I'll cook something tasty."
"Sounds good to me."
At my words, Mun Hee-jeong smiled shyly and hooked her pinky with mine.
"Promise?"
Her girlish expression caught me off guard. Pretending calm, I linked fingers.
"Don't worry about a place to stay, by the way."
"Huh?"
"We have lots of empty rooms. Plenty for you and your ancestor spirit—separate rooms, no problem."
Blushing, she dashed off toward Kim Yun-ju and the other club members.
<...That little shit. Quick on the uptake for a big-boobed newbie.>
"What?"
<Never mind. You're worse than a newbie.>
Why was she throwing a tantrum? She wasn't even alive to have hormones.
"Taeyang... likes whips, huh..."
Mun Hee-jeong muttered as she ran, too quietly to catch fully. Probably nothing important.
"Surveillance equipment installed."
"Weekday and weekend foot traffic confirmed."
"Starting barbed wire installation."
As the other kids kept their distance and Shin Sua's staff prepared to secure the area, Gemma and I sat on a nearby bench, continuing our chat.
<That bugs me, though.>
"What does?"
<Argo suddenly changing the sparring lineup. Wasn't it just the top rankers?>
"Oh, that?"
It threw me too at first—unprecedented in the game. But I quickly guessed the school's motive.
"They're worried investors will exploit the security breach to push more influence. This is their way of proving Argo's capabilities are intact."
No casualties wouldn't silence critics, so they'd showcase the 43rd class's prowess. An educational institution's power lies in its graduates. The famed "strongest ever" 42nd class—current second-years. Showing freshmen holding their own against the top male and female second-years, even the runners-up, would rehab their image.
<Second-years? Isn't that a huge gap? What do we do?>
"I know who's coming up, so time to plan counters."
Unlike the 42nd, no boy matched Shin Sua's entrance score this year, making her the sole female runner-up. Second-years wouldn't know her partner. My edge: they didn't know my abilities.
I recalled the second-year runners-up's Spirit Lord Transformations from the game.
"Tough opponents. Gotta prepare thoroughly."
Win or lose, no real loss—but impressing the chairman was better. Might get tapped for testing "that weapon" in development. Essential for bolstering forces, so give it my all.
"First, wrap things up with Shin Sua."
Spirit Vein?>
"She knows you can't Grand Offering the same ancestor spirit multiple times at one Spirit Vein. She'll pretend to graciously yield."
It was a freebie thanks to me; she'd have some conscience. But first: recruit the seventh Map-making Club member.
I approached Shin Sua and informed her Seol Romi had been hiding behind the wall, watching everything. An enraged shout soon shook the street.
* * *
3 PM. Argo. In the first-floor cafe of the second-year dorms—Marron Five Argo branch—three students sat around a four-seater table.
Seo Jeon-jeom, the handsome Korean with long bangs covering one eye. Xantia Zorbas, the athletic Greek beauty with tanned skin and thick braids. Almira Murad, the cute girl with pale skin and green eyes.
Despite Xantia being last year's top female entrant and the chairman's granddaughter, Seo Jeon-jeom and Almira showed no intimidation. As last year's runners-up, they'd proven multiple times they could stand toe-to-toe with the top spots.
"This is annoying. We can't even talk freely with the 'elders' always playing mind games."
As Xantia said, massive ancestor spirits loomed around them, auras tightly contained.
Behind Seo Jeon-jeom, a sharp-featured man in a golden crown meditated with eyes closed.
To Xantia Zorbas's left stood a helmeted woman with spear and shield, posture rigid.
Beside Almira Murad, a bearded man in a turban crossed his arms arrogantly.
"Almira, this sucks."
Almira Murad sighed softly.
"Why send two of us against first-year rookies? Those toothpick dicks—I'd blast 'em away with one super big, majestic shot."
"Can't believe how your mouth runs opposite your looks."
"Hmph, deal with it!"
Seo Jeon-jeom pointed it out, but Almira stuck out her tongue bratily.
"Haa..."
Seo Jeon-jeom, who preferred calm vibes, always dreaded chatting with the battleship-obsessed Turkish exchange student. Almira, who enrolled simply because Argo was a massive ship, dragged him into the mud with her wild personality despite matching his runner-up score.
"Eee... this mug's not thick enough. Call Igabi and get a new one."
"You're ruining the vibe. Put the cup down."
No matter what Seo Jeon-jeom said, Almira fiddled with cylindrical objects around her, gauging their girth playfully, lost in her world.
"Xantia, I can't work with Almira. Talk to the old man about a new partner."
"Impossible, Jeon-jeom. You know the chairman values honor. Asking to sideline a runner-up? You'd be the one cut, not her."
"That'd be bad."
"Just endure once. Last time she friendly-fired was last year."
"Who saved your partner from dying then?"
Xantia awkwardly stroked her braid at Seo Jeon-jeom's question.
"Haa. Should've aimed for top myself."
"Grateful for the help, but asking you to yield the top spot is shameless."
As Seo Jeon-jeom covered his face, a voice came from behind.
A slender pretty boy in an apron printed with Marron Five's logo and Emperor Gojong's portrait.
"Thanks for gathering, everyone. I figured you'd make time even on temporary suspension."
"What's the big deal against first-years...?"
In response to Seo Jeon-jeom's question, the boy set down drinks—including his own—and replied clearly.
"No defeat tolerated, no matter the opponent."
The 42nd class, packed with those inheriting bloodlines of history-makers—for good or ill.
"We're the heirs of kings."
Igabi, top Shangju of the "Generation of Emperors" and owner of the massive coffee chain Marron Five, smiled quietly.