Even a Third-Generation Chaebol Can't Resist This (2)

The safe zone restocks food every single day.

Even so, awakeners always pack more than enough supplies before climbing. I was no exception.

It's disgustingly bad.

Dried-out jerky that reeks of old grease. Bread so dense you practically need water just to choke it down. It's not food for humans. Hell, would animals even touch it? Even Dohwa spat out a single bite. This is the same fox who happily wolfs down those 1+1 convenience-store chicken breasts that expired months ago.

That's how awful the safe-zone rations are… and yet.

How long has this guy been eating it? A whole year?

Lee Hyeon-seo. The third-generation chaebol trapped on the thirty-ninth floor. He'd survived on that garbage, waiting for a rescue that would never come, chewing through bread that tasted like sawdust and jerky tough enough to break teeth.

To someone like him, the spread I laid out had to be impossible to refuse.

Even a third-generation chaebol can't resist this.

A pot brimming with vivid red broth. Kimchi glistening with rendered pork fat, braised until it turned slightly translucent. Tender pork ribs piled generously on top. That sight alone would make most people dizzy, but I went further.

"I brought rice too."

Fluffy steamed egg ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so soft it jiggled. Rice topped with a perfectly fried egg. And to finish it off, sheets of roasted seasoned seaweed.

The warm aroma of savory rice mingled with the spicy scent of the kimchi stew, riding the steam straight into the air. How could any human—chaebol or not—possibly hold back?

Hyeon-seo's eyes went glassy.

This was legal heroin to him.

"Whoa…"

"I made it back in my own safe zone. Please enjoy it."

"…Y-yes! Yes!!!"

Then came the clatter.

He snatched up the spoon. The hand scooping a heaping mouthful of rice trembled with pure anticipation and excitement.

"I'll… tear the kimchi by hand…"

He grabbed a strip of kimchi and ripped it lengthwise, then laid it over the rice. The snowy-white grains instantly soaked up the oily red broth.

Hyeon-seo stared down at it like he couldn't believe it was real. He lifted the entire bowl to his mouth and shouted.

"Thank you for the meal!!"

The portion that looked too big for one bite vanished into his mouth in a single motion.

Chew. Chew. Chew.

He attacked the food with intense focus. One heavy swallow later, all pretense of dignity disappeared.

"……!!!!"

He grabbed a rack of ribs with his bare hands and bit in. No chopsticks, just pure instinct. The perfectly seasoned meat slid right off the bone. One rack. Two. Three.

Only after demolishing three full racks did he return to the rice.

"Mmph!! Mmmph!!!"

He shoved entire strips of oil-drenched kimchi into his mouth without even tearing them. If it was too salty, the solution was obviously more rice—he scooped it aggressively, shoveling it in. Then he grabbed two fresh sheets of seaweed, piled them onto the broth-soaked rice, and poured the whole thing into his mouth like he was drinking it.

Crunch.

The seaweed crumbled between his teeth before it could even soften. A loud slurp followed.

"Mmm!!!

The steamed egg lasted three seconds flat. He slurped up every drop of broth like it was pudding, resetting his spice tolerance in one go.

He immediately dove the spoon back into the bowl, only to hear a sad, empty clink.

"…Ah."

It was already spotless. No surprise after the way he'd eaten like a man possessed. In desperation he scraped the bowl with his spoon, hunting for even a single remaining grain.

I pulled out another full bowl.

"Care for another serving?"

The look he gave me then… well, it's awkward to say this, but it didn't lose at all to the swordswoman who'd stared at me on the thirty-ninth floor.

"Mmmph!!!"

He snatched the bowl like a hawk seizing prey and resumed his ferocious eating.

I watched awkwardly for a moment, then leaned back against the cave wall.

I was planning to eat with him originally…

If I'd suggested sharing, she probably would've drawn her sword. This was Korean food she hadn't tasted in who knows how long—the very kimchi stew she'd been singing about. Even I didn't dare sit at that table. Besides, I'd completely lost my appetite.

It smells like shit in here.

There are no toilets in the safe zone, after all. To his credit, he hadn't completely abandoned his humanity—he'd dug a hole in the corner and covered it with a shield. But my nose, the same one that used to file complaints about people defecating in the middle of construction sites, wasn't fooled for a second.

Still, I'll pretend I didn't notice.

Instead of commenting, I pulled something from my inventory.

It was the hidden piece I'd obtained on the third floor—Baekri-hyang's Soul.

Twenty minutes. It's dropped a lot.

When I first obtained this, I was on the twenty-ninth floor. Our specs were roughly even back then, yet the possession time had been cut by more than half.

Still better than Serin, who got slapped with an outright impossible verdict… but why does it fluctuate so much?

Was something besides the stat gap affecting it? Had my mythic-grade traits interfered again?

"…Ah!"

The Sword God trait.

The answer came to me. The vengeful spirit had been a swordsman. Since she was the one doing the possessing, the duration apparently scaled with the host's swordsmanship level. My mythic-grade trait let me hold it longer. Hyeon-seo had something called Sword Flower, but it was only Legendary-grade—lower than mine. That had to be the mechanism.

Then again, her current level is 781. Holding a level-999 body for twenty minutes is still pretty broken.

I nodded to myself. This also explained why Serin had been rejected outright.

The moment my reasoning finished, a clatter echoed.

"I'm… done eating…"

Hyeon-seo set his spoon down. When I glanced over, he was quietly sniffling.

"You don't have to cry over it."

"It was just… so delicious… thank you… thank you so much…"

"…Sigh."

I never understood the appeal of watching a man cry. Especially a blond one. It reminded me too much of that swordswoman and made things weird.

"If you're finished, let's talk business."

I kept my voice cold. Speaking through my nose to disguise it softened the edge, but it was still enough to cut his tears off instantly.

"Ah! Sorry. I showed you something pathetic. It's been so long since I had warm food."

"It's fine. Anyway, the item I'm offering is this. It's called Baekri-hyang's Soul…"

I explained the details in my nasal voice. A level-999 ghost that possesses the user and fights in their place—an absurdly overpowered item.

Hyeon-seo's eyes flew wide open.

"Level 999!? That's a stat you only see near the very end of the fifth floor!"

"With titles factored in, maybe mid-fifth floor."

"Still!! Where in the world did you get an item like—"

"It's a hidden piece."

"A hidden piece!!!"

His reaction was delicious. If he didn't look so much like that swordswoman, I might've actually found him a little likable.

"With this, clearing the fourth-floor boss will be easy. And after that, you'll become ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the strongest awakener in Korea."

"An incredible treasure indeed."

"I wouldn't have brought it otherwise."

I casually held out the orb.

"Is this for real?"

"…Yes!!"

His reaction was obvious. He reached for it immediately, but—

I whisked it behind my back.

"Before we transfer ownership!"

I pulled out a sheet of paper and a cheap ballpoint pen from my inventory and handed them over.

"…What's this?"

"Write me a memorandum first."

Cheonghwa was trustworthy, but the contract was simply too big. I needed something on paper. Especially since getting caught trying to pull one over on this guy would be catastrophic.

"Write as I dictate. The swindler shall be referred to as Party A. Lee Hyeon-seo and the Cheonghwa Guild shall be Party B."

Arms crossed, I laid out the terms. I had zero legal knowledge, so I kept it simple and blunt.

Scratch. Scratch.

"Party B shall, upon Party A's request, provide goods totaling one trillion won in installments…"

Hyeon-seo wrote without complaint. The terms had already been discussed in the community, so he had no reason to fuss.

At least until the final clause.

"Should the above contract not be fulfilled in good faith, Party A may inflict financial damage upon Party B as protest."

"……Pardon?"

Hyeon-seo froze, eyes filling with utter bewilderment. A perfectly natural reaction. I might not know law, but even I knew a random memorandum couldn't cover everything. Still, the threat was what mattered.

"It's better not to get on my bad side. I tend to make ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a very big mess when I'm upset."

Legal enforceability didn't matter. The message was simple: if you cheat me, I will destroy you.

Refuse and your market cap will end up like Arirang, buddy.

I crossed my arms more obviously, making sure the third-generation chaebol in front of me understood I was not someone to take lightly.

His response?

"What exactly constitutes the scope of 'good faith'?"

"…Excuse me?"

"You might demand something impossible to obtain. Or perhaps the item already has an owner and I'd need to pay a premium. Would those situations count as failing to act in good faith?"

"Uh… well…"

Yeah. Definitely a third-gen chaebol. He was poking holes in angles I hadn't even considered.

"In those cases, just inform me in advance."

"Then my next question concerns items that require significant time to acquire…"

Hyeon-seo kept talking for a long while after that.

To summarize: Cheonghwa would do its best, but complications could arise. If so, they would notify me beforehand and ask for understanding. He wrapped all that common sense in dense legal terminology until my soul felt like it was leaking out of my ears.

I should've just gone with a verbal agreement… No, actually, this is perfect.

Thanks to his thoroughness, I was now completely certain. Cheonghwa would follow me like a loyal dog. Until that one-trillion-won debt was paid, they would buy me anything I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wanted.

My usual caution—always tapping the bridge before crossing—melted away.

"That's enough. I believe we've established sufficient trust."

"You're really satisfied with just this? Then as a deposit, the artifact I'm currently wearing—"

"No need. I'll trust you, Hyeon-seo. And by extension, Cheonghwa."

I held out my hand once more.

Only then did Baekri-hyang's Soul finally return to its new owner.

"…Thank you for placing your trust in me."

He smiled brightly. The expression reminded me of the swordswoman and stirred a faint sense of revulsion.

"How exactly do I use it?"

"The description says to consume it."

"Then… here goes…"

He brought the orb to his lips and—

WHOOSH—!!!

The moment it touched his mouth, Baekri-hyang's Soul erupted with blue light.

The orb floated upward and began spinning rapidly around Hyeon-seo, scanning him from head to toe as if performing an extremely thorough inspection.

Then, at the end of its rotation, it shot straight toward him.

"W-whoa?!"

Hyeon-seo stumbled backward in panic, but the orb darted in like a butterfly that refused to be denied. With a soft squelch, it slipped between his lips.

Gulp.

"What the… hell…"

Hyeon-seo couldn't even finish his sentence before swallowing it whole.

"Oh, God?"

"Oh."

Only then did I realize the truth.

Giving this to a third-generation chaebol had been an absolutely stellar decision.