Who Did You Say You Were?
The inauguration ceremony concluded with the smashing of a jewel by a golden axe.
It had been nothing more than an ordinary gem. No magic, no miracle, had happened for Jeong-Hoon. It was simply the traditional procedure of the Family Head’s inauguration, handed down through generations of the family.
“So you’re saying I was just reenacting the actions of my distant ancestor?”
“That is correct. According to the records, the first Family Head shattered a massive core of mana and allowed the seal to permeate the world.”
Inside the black bus bearing Lumen’s mark—the family’s mobile command center—Jeong-Hoon sat among the 12 Vassals, the golden axe from the ceremony still in his hand.
He had half-hoped it might be some ritual that granted superpowers. Learning it was nothing more than tradition, he sighed and absently turned the axe over in his grip.
It was not as though he particularly liked the golden axe.
Back when he had been working through Shine Mall’s assignments, he had once asked the chief butler whether there was some kind of royal seal passed down from Family Head to Family Head. The chief butler had answered that there was something similar.
The golden axe in Jeong-Hoon’s hand was that heirloom—the sacred relic of the Family Head. The Family Head’s Axe.
It was both the symbol of the Family Head’s authority and the proof that Jeong-Hoon had truly become the Family Head. He was taking it with him only because the inauguration had made it his.
“But why an axe? Did my ancestor actually use axes?”
“No. The Family Head’s Axe became the Family Head’s sacred relic after the family settled on the Korean Peninsula.”
The family’s settlement on the peninsula had taken place a little over six hundred years ago. Roughly six hundred thirty years earlier, during the chaos at the end of Goryeo and the founding of Joseon, they had arrived. Jeong-Hoon had already heard that much, so he simply nodded.
“When the family decided to settle on the Korean Peninsula, they wanted to negotiate with those in power. By chance they made contact with a certain powerful figure and provided significant aid during the Musin Coup.”
“The Musin Coup?”
“If I say the First Strife of the Princes, does that make more sense?”
When Jeong-Hoon asked about the unfamiliar term, the chief butler switched to the name everyone knew.
“Having only recently settled on the peninsula and having supported the founding of Joseon from behind the scenes, the family could not agree with Jeong Do-jeon’s policy of abolishing private armies. The vassals were in danger of being scattered.”
The story behind the Family Head’s Axe was on a larger scale than expected. Jeong-Hoon glanced around at the other 12 Vassals as if to ask whether any of this was actually true. They only nodded and kept listening—the look of people who already knew the tale and still found it entertaining to hear again.
“So they helped Prince Jeong-an, who would later become King Taejong, carry out the Musin Coup. After he became king, Taejong gifted them land where they could hide from the world’s eyes, and, as a symbol recognizing the family’s right to maintain a private army, he presented them with the axe and battle-axe that represented military authority—the Buweol. He stressed, however, that if the family’s true nature were ever revealed, it would all be for nothing.”
Understanding at last why it was an axe and why it was called the Family Head’s Axe, Jeong-Hoon nodded.
“Don’t tell me my surname being Lee is also…?”
“Yes. Taejong gifted the national surname Lee to the Family Head of that time.”
Having learned in school that Taejong was a man of fierce ambition, Jeong-Hoon shook his head.
“Hmm. I find that hard to imagine.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re saying that Taejong trusted the family? From what I was taught, I would have expected him to discard them the moment he was done using them.”
“If that is how you think, then it seems the Family Head also possesses a strong will toward power.”
At Jeong-Hoon’s doubt the chief butler gave a small smile, deciding he would later have to explain just how hard the family had worked in those days to earn Taejong’s trust.
Lumen’s small banquet hall.
Though called small, it was a high-end hall that only Lumen’s VIPs could rent. It was also the same banquet hall where Jeong-Hoon had once dined with the president. Here he sat in the seat of honor and looked up at the 12 Vassals watching him.
“Why is everyone standing? Please sit down.”
The moment the words left his mouth, the 12 Vassals took the seats they had already assigned among themselves. They had only been standing because the Family Head had not yet given the order; there was no other intention. Even for a modest banquet, because it was hosted by the Family Head, they could not sit until invited.
“Ah. Come to think of it—you were Elder Jeong Si-Min, weren’t you?”
Looking over the seated 12 Vassals one by one, Jeong-Hoon fixed his gaze on the one he had not yet properly greeted.
Jeong Si-Min. An elder of the Elder Council. An eighty-something man in charge of educating the family’s trainee vassals, and one of only three SSS-class Awakened the family possessed. Yet his face looked no older than his mid-twenties wherever you looked.
Neat short hair dyed a bright brown that slightly revealed his ears. A sharp-featured young man wearing a faint smile, dressed in a red shirt and black suit. He looked nothing like an elder of the Elder Council. Before hearing about him from Min-Ha, the chief butler’s granddaughter, and seeing only photographs, Jeong-Hoon had simply assumed he was one of the younger 12 Vassals.
“Yes, that is correct. I am Jeong Si-Min, an elder of the Elder Council and the one responsible for the education of trainee vassals.”
At Jeong-Hoon’s call he rose, placed his left hand over his chest, extended his right arm fully, and bowed his head. The greeting felt more casually flippant than formal, enough to make one wonder whether he was truly the one in charge of education.
“Um… are you really an elder?”
“Despite how I look, I am eighty-four years old.”
It was completely unbelievable, but since Min-Ha had clearly said he was an elderly man in his eighties, Jeong-Hoon managed a reluctant nod.
“But why do you look so young? Is it a disguise?”
“This is my original face. When I advanced to SSS-class, I underwent Rejuvenation and regained the appearance of my youth.”
As he explained, waving his fingers through the air as if writing on a blackboard, Jeong-Hoon turned to the chief butler and Fernandez.
“Chief Butler. Sir Fernandez.”
“Yes, Family Head.”
“Can you undergo Rejuvenation if you become SSS-class?”
Jeong-Hoon was a hunter otaku, but information on S-class and above was so scarce it was nearly impossible to obtain, so he knew little. When he asked just in case, both men shook their heads.
“Elder Jeong Si-Min is a special case.”
Even after collecting every recorded case of complete body reconstruction the family had gathered, the only instance of Rejuvenation was Jeong Si-Min.
“We can only assume it is closely related to Elder Jeong Si-Min’s ability.”
“Ability? What is Elder Jeong Si-Min’s ability?”
“Blink. As long as it is within his field of vision, he can move instantly.”
He did not merely say it—he actually used Blink, appearing behind Jeong-Hoon and then returning to his original seat in the blink of an eye.
“Hmm. What does that have to do with Rejuvenation?”
“It gets complicated if I explain, but may I?”
Dong Sa-Seong, who had been sitting quietly, suddenly shot his hand into the air. Jeong-Hoon waved him off at once. Having someone with the temperament of a mad scientist step forward meant the explanation would be something Jeong-Hoon could not understand even if he listened.
“Uh, Elder Jeong Si-Min. Come to think of it, I heard people call you Professor. I’ll call you Professor too. That’s fine, right?”
To change the subject Jeong-Hoon settled on a form of address. Jeong Si-Min placed one hand over his chest as he had when greeting and bowed his head.
“That is truly an honor.”
With that, he had greeted every one of the 12 Vassals and decided on their titles. Thinking he had gotten past one hurdle, Jeong-Hoon snapped his fingers.
“Then let’s start with the meal.”
Normally, to commemorate the Family Head’s inauguration they should have given every vassal leave and held a grand banquet. The family currently had no such luxury. The moment the ceremony ended, the vassals had returned to their duties. Gathering only the Family Head and the 12 Vassals for a modest celebration was the maximum leisure the family could afford right now.
“Ah, right. Chief Butler—don’t forget to give everyone a bonus and send them on leave in rotation.”
“I will implement it without omission.”
Instead, Jeong-Hoon had chosen a method that preserved the tradition in a similar way. Come to think of it, this was better. Bonuses and leave boosted everyone’s morale; banquets—company dinners—did not, as Jeong-Hoon had learned from experience.
“Better to split the money than hold a company dinner.”
Recalling the complaints he had always heard from the people around him back when he lived off part-time jobs, Jeong-Hoon nodded.
The first dinner with the 12 Vassals was not a warm, friendly meal.
They discussed the integration process of unifying the family’s scattered business entities into one and debated the future direction of the family. Of course the broad strokes were already in place; they were only refining the finer details of the current.
There was also discussion of the reconstruction plan for Diana Theme Park, which had been reduced to ruins by the rampaging ogres and the Ogre Lord. Rather than simply rebuilding what had been destroyed, the opinion arose that they should turn it into a new symbol of the family—now reborn as a single group through integration—and they debated that as well.
They also discussed measures for the rapid establishment of the PS Association. In the process the opinions of the 12 Vassals clashed sharply. Jeong-Hoon had a hard time mediating—under the name of making decisions—between the opposing vassals.
But the next day he thought that mediation had been the easier part.
No sooner had he woken—no, while he was still sleeping soundly—the chief butler forcibly woke him.
“Chief Butler, I don’t speak English. What do I do?”
“I will interpret simultaneously.”
When the tense Jeong-Hoon asked, the chief butler answered calmly and reassured him.
Guests staying in Lumen’s royal suite were famous hunters or businesspeople. For that reason, starting from the royal suite there was a video conference room so urgent business could be handled, and Jeong-Hoon was entering it for the first time. Normally he wore the most comfortable clothes possible in his room, but now he was dressed in a suit, his hair neat, and he had even received light makeup.
A bolt from the blue that had fallen while he was sketching blueprints for the future. It was because of a contact from America.
“Family Head, are you ready?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
Since the other side was waiting for Jeong-Hoon to be ready, when the chief butler asked he nodded. A direct video call from Lumen’s American branch. A fairly big shot on the other end had been waiting a long time for Jeong-Hoon.
“Hello? I’m……”
“Hello. I am Richard Evans, a United States Senator and chairman of the Awakened Committee.”
An old man with completely white hair, a face that recalled a bulldog in his sixties, and a massive build. When the heavyweight of the political world—a United States Senator and chairman of a committee—opened his mouth, the chief butler immediately interpreted from right beside him.
“Hello. I am Lee Jeong-Hoon, chairman of Lumen Hotels. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Jeong-Hoon had no idea why a United States Senator, and the chairman of the Awakened Committee no less, had contacted him directly. The Awakened Committee was the body that dealt with dungeons and Awakened in America. The chairman of that committee had suddenly shown up at a Lumen branch and pushed to speak directly with the chairman. So Jeong-Hoon watched his expression carefully, trying to read his intentions.
“Thank you for kindly making time despite my sudden request.”
“Not at all. For a request from the Senator, I would have to make time even if I didn’t have any.”
“Chairman, I ask just in case. Is the security of this call perfect?”
To Jeong-Hoon, who was making light conversation, Richard Evans suddenly set a heavy atmosphere and asked the question. Thinking it was the kind of weight a politician would put on, Jeong-Hoon shrugged.
“Whatever is said here will not harm America.”
“I am not speaking for the sake of America’s interests. Is Lumen’s security perfect?”
But when Richard Evans shook his head vigorously and spoke as if terrified, Jeong-Hoon felt that the situation was serious.
“If you feel your personal safety is threatened, Lumen will protect you. Are you requesting personal protection?”
“That is correct. I am currently in a dangerous situation.”
Jeong-Hoon was flustered that a United States Senator was requesting personal protection from Lumen, but he maintained his composure outwardly.
“May I hear the details?”
“First, I will make it clear that the Nova hotel terrorist incident that occurred in Korea last time has nothing to do with me.”
“What???”
When the name Nova suddenly came up, Jeong-Hoon unconsciously let his shock show. It was not a topic that should come up in a conversation with a United States Senator. So Jeong-Hoon thought, No way…?
“I am the founder of Nova. And right now, I am being threatened with my life by the radical faction of Nova.”
When that “no way” came out of Richard Evans’s mouth, Jeong-Hoon froze solid. And he realized why the man was trying to take refuge with Lumen.
After the previous terrorist incident ended, Jeong-Hoon had declared retribution against Nova. His calculation was that Lumen—hostile to Nova and possessing a certain amount of military force—would protect him.
