Engraving the Dragon

The cleanup on Jeju Island proceeded swiftly the moment the Calione family's operatives arrived. They handled the remnants gathered in Junk Town, wiped out the tangerine farm brewing new drugs from the ghost tangerine tree, and consolidated and reorganized the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠unruly factions across the island. All of it wrapped up in less than a day.

"So, time to head back?"

We stood at the small dock where we'd first arrived on Jeju, watching as Fafnir's massive corpse was loaded onto a large ship.

"Yeah. We've got mountains of work waiting back home."

"Right, you're the little boss of Calione, aren't you? Guess we'll be seeing each other again soon."

"Probably."

Since I'd led this operation, Dad would naturally send me for the follow-up. He always kept business and family matters separate when it came to Famiglia affairs—no doubt about it.

"I've learned so much watching you, Grand Master! With your talent, I'm certain you'll master the pinnacle of aura!"

""We're certain!!""

I nodded at the overly enthusiastic send-off from the Cheongyacha workshop crew—familiar by now—and extended a hand to Yoon Kwang-su.

"We'll meet again soon over gear talk."

"Yes. I'll come find you myself next time, Grand Master."

"Good. See you soon."

Finally, I turned to the kids from Hallasan Cathedral watching us.

"Oppa, are you going?"

"Hyung, heading back to the mainland?"

"Come back again, hyung?"

They seemed to sense my departure, their faces crumpling with disappointment or tears. In the midst of them stood Jeanne, staring at me with the steadiest expression.

"We can ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠see each other again, right, oppa?"

No, she was just holding it together. Her eyes trembled visibly.

"Of course we will. So listen to the bishop and Sister Maria. I'll check up on you later."

I ruffled Jeanne's hair—routine by now—and the kids swarmed me, clinging to my legs and waist.

"Thanks, hyung!"

"Bye, oppa!"

"Tell us more stories next time!"

It'd only been a day for them. But maybe I'd grown attached too.

"Alright, next time I'll tell you about Father Andersen, the devil slayer."

"Huh?"

Their faces froze solid.

...Too excited, maybe?

"Young master. They're ready to depart."

An operative's voice from behind. Looked like they'd already loaded Fafnir's corpse and the loot from his lair.

"Ah, go on ahead. I'll be right there."

"Yes, young master."

Time to really leave Jeju. With everyone watching, sappy words felt embarrassing, so I flashed a casual smile, like to friends.

"See you next time."

We'd meet soon enough.

"This is... truly... astonishing."

At the Calione Mansion, Fafnir's corpse lay in the garden center, eyed with fascination by Dad and some men.

"Eugene took this down?"

"Yeah. There's a bishop at Hallasan Cathedral who wields Ascalon. He teamed up with the kid."

"A few surface scratches, but no major wounds... I can't fathom how they did it."

Dad and the man circled the pristine dragon suspiciously. The man was Kowalnoz Garcia, boss of a hunter guild family handling monster materials—one of Korea's top dissectors, called in for the dragon.

"Thanks for coming all this way, Don Kowalnoz."

Simple reason: Keep Fafnir's corpse ours secret. A named mob from myths in our hands? Government or others sniffing it out would be a nightmare—like lotto winners swarmed for "favors."

"Haha. When my nephew asks? Of course. And how often do I get to dissect something this massive in my life?"

He grinned, hand on my shoulder, treating it as my personal request, not Famiglia business. Fine by me.

"Thank you, Uncle."

"Right. Time to prep. Step back, everyone. Haven't gone full throttle in ages."

He approached like aiming a gun, index and middle fingers extended. Green aura gathered at his fingertips—sharp enough to cut air—slicing into Fafnir's scales.

"Haha! Resistance right off the bat! Fun!"

Casual as pie, he peeled scales and bones. Dead dragon couldn't resist; they sheared cleanly.

Two-hour dissection show. Minimal crew stacked materials in the garden corner. By end, sun was setting.

"Whew, that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠should do. As you said, I'll take some meat and scales?"

"Of course. Great work, Uncle."

"No trouble. Hey, Don, drinks on us? Got something killer incoming."

"From you? Intrigued. Lead on."

"Yes, Don."

I watched them go laughing, then paid with materials as fee, surveying the haul.

Clean scales, bones. Tanks of red blood and meat.

But standout: fist-sized red orb.

Dragon Heart.

The core letting dragons rule magic—like a mana fusion reactor. I pocketed it in the world's safest spot: my Cube.

Can't use yet; store for now.

"What needs immediate use..."

Eyeing the blood tank.

"People overlook it, but Fafnir's real prize is this."

Fafnir's blood. Per Nibelungenlied, it grants invulnerability. Game balanced it—no immortality cheat—but vital for me now.

Shed Dis Pater, stepped into the warm blood—still hot despite time since death.

Felt it seep in, changing me.

"Perfect."

Fear absorption powers me up—exactly what I needed. Now in hand.

The blood cooled, turning clear. Abilities drained, color gone. Useless liquid now.

Stepped out, aura-dried moisture, changed to casual clothes.

"...One last thing."

Midterms looming; boosting power crucial. Better handle now. Headed to room.

Unlike last time, prepared thoroughly. Towel in mouth, Midas' Gloves on hands.

Sat cross-legged on bed, eyed glowing button.

New from villain fight. Etches abilities based on my "narrative." Last time, hit blindly—rough.

'This time, different.'

Clicked. Thought flashed:

'Wolf last time got wolf tattoo. Fafnir... dragon tattoo?'

Dragon tattoo? Evil dragon?

Right arm seared.

Recalled last time, dropped towel.

"No way—."

──────!!

Purple flames engulfed right arm.

"Grrrrrrgh!"

Worse than wolf—voice choked. Like dipping arm in lava. Writhed, praying for end.

Shoulder wolf merged with arm dragon—pain peaked.

Consciousness fraying. Blood from bitten gums, fists white-knuckled.

Flames died.

"Thought I was done! Really...!"

Saw black dragon tattoo on right arm. Checked new ability.

"This crazy—."

Performance solid. Issue...

"Young master? Knocked but no answer... Huh?"

Alesia entered.

"That's on your arm... black dragon? Tattoo?"

"Ah."

Caught clutching pained arm.

"...I get it."

"Wait, Alesia? It's not—."

"It's fine. I... think it's kinda cool?"

"No, really—."

"I'll go. Have fun, young master."

──BAM!

Door slammed despite pleas. Reality hit. Dry-washed face, sighed.

"...Lame."