A True Family Dinner

Defeat in a total war meant exactly what it sounded like—losing everything. Your gear, your supplies, even your club room.

Of course, you couldn't haul it all away, so most clubs "rented" it back under that pretense. Honestly, though, "rent" was just a polite word for tribute.

"I've tallied up the club room usage fees, the cost of consumables inside, and the rental charges for equipment and facilities."

Waiting for us on the field after the total war was Inomiya Haru. Either she'd been dead certain we'd win, or she was just that prepared—detailed calculations clutched in her hand. At the bottom, under "Final Assessment," it read [5,000,000C].

"Five million... That's about fifty percent of the bronze club subsidy."

"Precisely. To get out of this mess, you'd either need to buy back usage rights from Famiglia, or purchase most of the room's contents out of pocket."

The paper Haru handed over listed a club room rental fee of [4,000,000C]. In other words, even if they bought back all the gear, they'd have to fork over four million every month just to keep the club afloat. It wasn't an exaggeration to say I now held the fate of the Ranger Club in my hands.

"Handle the Rangers however you see fit. A ten percent commission sound good?"

I wanted to offer more, but knowing Haru's personality, she'd refuse anything excessive. So I quoted a rate slightly above average.

"Personally, even that's too generous... but pocket change for the boss, I suppose. Yes, I'll take care of it."

"Thanks."

Three million six hundred thousand credits a month... That should cover snacks and maintenance easily enough.

"Then I'll go negotiate with Kwon Su-hyeop. If I don't step in first, it'll just drag you down, young master."

The guy who'd lost the total war had stared at me like he was about to burst into tears. I'd dodged him to avoid the hassle, but here was Haru stepping up with perfect timing. Reliable as ever. Probably how Liu Bei felt with Zhuge Liang at his side.

"Always appreciate it."

"Just doing my job."

Haru bowed politely and headed toward Kwon Su-hyeop. Exhausted from using that new power for the first time, I dragged my weary body toward the kids.

"...Everyone did great. You're all beat—get some rest today."

The three nodded silently. The two who'd drained their mana completely looked like they might melt into puddles, barely shuffling along.

"Seriously... sooo tired..."

"Feels like forever since I bottomed out my mana."

Jinwoo was the only one somewhat intact, though even he looked wiped.

Judging we were in no shape for more talk or movement, I decided to debrief tomorrow and climbed into the car first.

The moment I sank into the seat—

"Hoo..."

My strength gave out, body sprawling across the cushions. Glancing down, my right forearm twitched faintly.

Had I overdone it testing that new ability? Even recalling it sent chills down my spine.

Concentrating your entire fighting spirit into one point to amplify power, even reshaping gear... With that alone, you could take down most Awakeners with a plain rock. Hell, the guy had eaten a Midas knuckle duster—unbreakable version—and flown dozens of meters.

Of course, the recoil was insane, leaving my whole body drained like my life force had been sucked dry.

And that wasn't even on the scale of what Vito Calione pulled off in the game. How the hell did he chain those moves, wrapping his whole body in it continuously?

"Young master, the suit from Maestro arrived at the mansion today," Han Seojun said from the driver's seat as I slumped in exhaustion.

"Oh? Straight to the house?"

"In honor of your promotion to executive, the family heads are all coming. They arranged it so you can change immediately upon arrival."

"...Right, that."

For me, this was my first real-life gathering of the other family bosses. No clue what extravagant party Dad had planned.

Makes sense—I never expanded alliances during Saber Crowd. All about those achievements. Sure, it enabled some wild plays.

Anyway, looking forward to it.

We arrived home quietly, and there at the entrance stood Parnello Ramichi, waiting.

"We've been expecting you, young master."

"...Did I keep you waiting long?"

Parnello shook his head with a kindly smile. "Dinner's still a ways off—we have time."

"Good to hear."

"I'll escort you to your room and show you the item from Maestro."

In my room, a suit lay on the table.

"...That it?"

"Yes."

Even shrouded in black cloth, it screamed extraordinary. Lifting it revealed the details.

It was absurd. How could human hands craft something like this, no matter the materials?

"What do you think, young master?"

Unaware of my appraisal skill, Parnello beamed, mistaking my shock for awe.

"Even at a glance, it's no ordinary piece. This paper below—is it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the appraisal?"

"Yes."

The sheet under the suit matched what I'd seen exactly.

"Just a suit, yet the performance is ridiculous."

"I agree, but don't forget—it's unfinished."

Right. Once the core was embedded, it'd be god-tier.

"Custom tailoring means it'll feel different from your usual. I'll help you dress. Oh, and for the shirt, Maestro sent a congratulatory gift for your promotion."

The gifted shirt kept body temperature cool and purified sweat for comfort. No wonder Dad wore suits year-round—even in summer.

With Parnello's help, I donned everything and felt reborn. The academy uniform wasn't bad, but compared to this, it was like army poncho rain gear.

"It suits you perfectly."

Parnello nodded approvingly. In the full-length mirror, I got why people said "clothes make the man."

"Maestro's work lives up to the hype."

Arms and legs moved freely—no restrictions. Suits had always felt binding before; this solved that.

"Time's approaching. Shall we?"

Parnello checked his pocket watch. Dinner was nigh.

Following him down the long corridor, he suddenly spoke up.

"By the way, Hanwol Group called this morning—urgent."

"Hanwol?"

"Yes. Internal issues prevent their attendance; they sent sincere apologies."

"Internal problems? Something happen?"

Mistaking my question for worry, Parnello smiled reassuringly. "Nothing serious, they said. No need for you or the Don ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to fret."

"Alright, if you say so..."

I'd hoped to update my character roster, but oh well.

"Tell them I'll visit once things settle."

"Of course."

We pressed on, and I noticed something off. The mansion's security was everywhere—today's event demanded it—and they all fiddled with earpieces, murmuring nonstop.

The Calione dinner was big news. Every executive and family boss under us would attend.

Truth be told, I was tense. Who wouldn't be, starring in a mafia bosses' feast?

My heart raced a bit more than usual. Tension or excitement? Hard to say.

One thing was clear: My performance here could reshape the future. The title of family boss carried weight.

But as heir, I kept a relaxed facade—befitting a Calione successor.

We reached the dining hall. Unlike the family room, this was for guests—soundproofed tight.

Knock.Knock.

Parnello knocked twice, entered, and announced:

"Entering now: The rightful heir of the Calione family, firstborn son of Don Vito Calione, hitman of the Execution Bureau, Eugene Han Calione."

Over-the-top as hell. Steel myself, chin up. Stride in confidently, recalling weekend ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cramming: faces and names of the other bosses.

Dozens if you counted small fries; just regionals and up: five in Korea alone. Overseas? Twenty-four total.

Bivalt. Move. Kowalnoz. Piro. Milano. Raikoslow. Deira. Konder. Normashu. Nekgrey. Leonardo. Isaac. And more.

Each a "king" in their turf. Gotta be ready.

Stepping fully inside, cigar smoke hit me—thick, bittersweet, laced with sweetness.

A massive table sprawled ahead. Dad at center, bosses flanking both sides.

All eyes on me. Cigars dangling from lips. Amused smirks. Fingers drumming tables.

Sizing me up. Fair enough—I was their future Don, their boss-to-be.

First time facing them as heir. No mistakes allowed.

Right hand to chest, as Parnello taught. Slight bow.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. I am Eugene Han Calione, heir to the Calione family and son of Vito Calione."

Silence blanketed the room.

Raising my head slowly... the scene was utterly ridiculous.

"Nephew's here!"

"Starvin' over here. Don, tell the kid to sit already—he's stiff as a board."

"Heh heh, what a cutie."

"Hey, kiddo, uncle's givin' you allowance!"

"Kids grow up so fast these days. Our pretty little Eugene's all grown... sniff sniff."

"──No way."

...This was a real family dinner?