The Heir's Proposal

A helicopter roared into the helipad at the Seoul Hero Academy. What kind of academy even has its own helipad?

"We've arrived, young master."

Han Seojun said that as he opened the helicopter door. There was no one around. I nodded silently, stepped out, and checked my smartphone. Only about two hours had passed since we'd reached the uninhabited island. Perfect timing.

I slipped into the classroom at a leisurely pace and spotted Ji Suhyun grinning wickedly.

"Congrats. You're in first place."

I nodded casually and took my seat. The blackboard up front displayed the live feed from the island.

"You were watching us the whole time with this?"

I already knew it. This sneaky witch had eyes on all of us. But I couldn't let on that I knew.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. I was keeping tabs on how you all handled things."

And whatever she saw would probably end up in our student records.

"Why, wanna watch too?"

"Don't mind if I do."

I leaned in to check her screen. Kim Sea-a was chanting spells while the others hauled mana stones nonstop. Looked like they were making good progress.

As I watched the island crew, the classroom door swung open. Ji Suhyun greeted the newcomer with a bright smile.

"You're here. Second place."

The guy, covered head to toe in salt, scanned the room before heading straight for me.

"How'd you get first?"

No hello, right to the point. His name tag read Choi Kang-hyeon.

"I swam full throttle, never thought anyone'd beat me. How the hell did you do it?"

He stared at me like he was dying of curiosity.

No need to lie.

"From the sky."

"...The sky?"

"Private helicopter. I'm kinda loaded."

"...I see."

He ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lost interest and turned back to his seat.

"Hit me up if you need a job or cash. Anytime."

I tossed that out as he sat down wordlessly. He'd come crawling soon enough.

I refocused on the feed. About thirty minutes of silent viewing later, results started rolling in. The glasses kid and most others looked set to make it back fine. Everyone else was finding their way too.

"Instructor, mind if I head out first?"

Choi Kang-hyeon stood and asked Ji Suhyun, probably satisfied with the outcomes.

"Do what you want."

"Yes, ma'am. Thanks."

He left promptly.

"You not going?"

Ji Suhyun eyed me with curiosity, still planted in my seat.

"Nah. I'll watch a bit more."

"Suit yourself."

I needed to scout talent for my organization early. A grin crept up as my mental org chart took shape.

"I'm home."

I didn't get back until around 3 p.m. I'd considered busing it, but the swarm of black cars at the gate killed that idea instantly. Overprotective much?

"So, how was your first day at the academy?"

Dad asked gruffly from the living room, newspaper in hand.

How to even explain? Sent to an uninhabited island on day one? I went with safe.

"It was fun."

Seeing heroes from the game in the flesh was thrilling, honestly.

"Good. That's what matters."

He grunted and went back to his paper. Vito Calione reading the news meant no business—just downtime. Perfect opening.

I sat across from him.

"Boss. Got something to say."

"Boss..?"

His face hardened, then shifted to intrigue.

"Alright, spit it out."

He folded the paper, clocking my intent. Those weren't a father's eyes anymore—they were the boss's, heavy with pressure. I met them steadily.

"I want to build a small organization at the academy."

He ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pulled a cigar from a box on the table and lit up—sign of real interest.

"That so? Then do it your way."

A solo op would've been fine, but my plan was bigger.

"If I pull it off properly, take us official under Calione."

A Calione affiliate. That was the goal.

"Official under Calione? What's your angle?"

Made sense—he was skeptical. Like asking a luxury brand to launch some street-market knockoff.

But it was essential for my scheme. Anyone who's played the underworld route knows the Calione saga. Eugene Han Calione was a two-bit extra villain in the game—petty, jealous, dirty. His antics disappointed Vito, so the don pits affiliates against each other for succession. Winner becomes the official heir.

"Just wanna test myself."

No guarantees Dad hands me the reins, even as "heir." Game-Eugene never became boss, no matter what. So why not play by Calione rules? I'm not that guy anymore—odds were good.

"A test, huh..."

He puffed thoughtfully, then clipped the cigar.

"Sounds fun. Go for it."

"Yes, Boss."

Business done. I switched gears, sliding beside him.

"Hm? Now what?"

"Dad."

"...?"

Vito blinked at the sudden shift from "Boss."

Embarrassing, but necessary. Playing the "Eugene Han Calione" card.

"One favor."

"As my son?"

"Yeah."

His stern face softened into a smile. Plan as good as sealed. I grinned back.

"Oppa!"

Heading to my room post-Dad talk, slippers slapped marble as Jiyoon Han Calione tackled my leg.

"Oppa! How was the academy? Lotsa real heroes?"

She hugged tight, chin propped on my knee. Adorable.

How'd she turn out so sweet with our dad?

I ruffled her hair.

"Yeah. Tons."

Her face lit up.

"So you'll be a hero too, right?"

"Uh... probably?"

More dark knight than hero, but no need to nitpick.

"Oppa's the best!"

She buried her face in me. I petted her a few more times, then headed to my room.

"Time to check."

Super basic description. It'd flesh out with his story in-game. Later.

"Seemed pretty weak still, but trainable?"

Choi Kang-hyeon. Sea Prince. Dirt-poor; starves or vanishes early without scholarship. I'd buy his loyalty with cash.

"Not urgent yet... Priority's the reward."

Couldn't check on the chopper. Time now.

"Holy shit...!"

Item Search Ticket. Rare even in-game—special events or quests only.

CS reset everything per playthrough. Chaos theory randomness: items, NPCs, all new. This ticket pinpointed legendaries.

"Perfect timing."

Endless potential. Grab a one-of-a-kind or lifelong signature weapon.

One catch...

"Just gives location, not the item. Pick wrong, you're screwed."

Last run, I searched ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the sole Phoenix Feather: Chronos's Secret Vault. No clue where—wasted it.

"Need something obtainable..."

What fits? Academy martial arts tomorrow—grab now. Weapon suiting me, Eugene Calione, mafia heir.

Mafia soul, unbeatable early sweeper.

"Got it."

I punched the name into the ticket.

The Incheon Foreign Quarter, shrouded in night. Extraterritorial zone. Faint neon foreign signs and fog-mixed decay thickened the gloom.

Old sign: [Wild Gunsmith].

My target gunsmith.

"Welcome... Huh? A kid?"

Bell jingled; owner scowled.

"Here for a gun."

"What? World's gone mad, but no sales to brats. Scram."

"Harsh words."

CS was chaos: gates spawned survival culture, gun legalization. Guns everywhere—shops, black markets.

"Academy cadet. No need for carry permit, right?"

Cadets—future frontline heroes—bought with student ID alone.

"Academy ID? Legal, sure. But no kids."

He shrugged it off. Game sold easy for cash; this pissed me off.

Easy way it is?

"Lo sarà davvero?"

(Will you really?)

Italian startled him; he snorted.

"Ha! Think Italian changes anything?"

"Veramente?"

(Really?)

I'm no ordinary Italian. I flashed my Calione-ring crest.

His face froze.

"Wait... Family? A kid like you?"

Voice shifted—not heir, but legit customer now.

"Kinda happened. Got the goods now?"

He sighed.

"Fine. Wall revolvers for self-defense. Recommend those for newbies."

I locked eyes.

"Not street toys. The real deal."

"...What bullshit?"

I grinned.

"Capone's Tommy. You got it, right?"

Mafia? Gotta be a Tommy gun.