The Summons
Kwon Hee-jin, the summoned Hero, sat slouched on the very edge of the mattress.
It was not because his quarters were uncomfortable. Far from it. The suite allocated to him was far too spacious and luxurious to be called a mere room. It boasted plush woven carpets and a bed so gargantuan that four full-grown adults could roll across it without brushing shoulders.
In one corner stood a fully stocked home bar. When he was first summoned, Hee-jin had scribbled out a crude schematic and demanded they build it for him, desperate to cling to some lingering taste of his modern homeland.
Yet no matter how comfortable the suite was, the anxious grimace plastered across the Hero's face showed no signs of easing. He was paralyzed by the impossible dilemma resting squarely on his shoulders.
"Ugh... Well, the Holy Kingdom's influence has shrunk anyway, so maybe it'll work out..."
As Hee-jin muttered relentlessly under his breath, another figure watched him with thinly veiled irritation. It was the Second Prince.
The Second Prince had positioned himself as the Hero's primary royal patron from the very moment Hee-jin stepped through the summoning circle. He had looked after the thoroughly unlikable Hero both materially and politically, going so far as to urge his fellow nobles to buy in when Kodana first appeared on the market. Of course, this had not been out of genuine affection for the savior; it was a calculated political gambit.
Until recently, their relationship had been exceptionally cordial. The Second Prince was the undisputed mega-whale of the Kodana market, pouring vast resources into backing the Hero solely to pump the coin's valuation to astronomical heights. And up until this point, Hee-jin had delivered—meeting, if not exceeding, every one of the prince's expectations.
Now, however, the gaze the prince directed at Kwon Hee-jin was fraught with quiet dread.
"Um, Your Highness? Any word on the Holy Kingdom's movements?"
"Quiet," the prince replied flatly. "They haven't caught on yet."
"Keep a close eye on them. Now that they've tasted easy money, those bastards have gotten viciously shrewd."
"Hero. I believe it is high time you told me what this 'alternative plan' of yours actually entails."
The Second Prince's voice was bone-dry. Hee-jin was about to answer flippantly, then thought better of it and clamped his mouth shut. He could tell, instinctively, that the prince's mood was turning hostile.
Can't blame him, really.
Even to his own eyes, Hee-jin knew he did not exactly project confidence. His gaze flickered without focus, his skin was flaking dry, his lips were chapped and swollen, and his cheekbones jutted out sharply. Still, after more than six months of relentless campaigning, that much physical wear and tear could be forgiven.
Except for one thing. A single, fatal defect that neither grace nor understanding could overlook. It was the sole reason the prince looked at him with such utter skepticism.
"...Haah. Hero. There is something I have been meaning to ask you for a while now."
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"Where in the world did you leave your finger? And why was it omitted from your report?"
"......"
Hee-jin offered a strained, awkward smile and looked away.
In truth, the Hero had lost the pinky finger on his right hand. While it might not cripple ordinary daily life, it was far from harmless. The pinky played a far greater biomechanical role than most people realized—especially for a swordsman who relied on his dominant grip.
"It's probably in the Beast King's stomach by now... Crazy bastard."
"Haah... And was the Saintess merely twiddling her thumbs?"
"She said she couldn't regrow severed limbs."
For a Hero whose combat prowess was already lacking, losing the pinky on his primary sword hand was a catastrophic blow.
Yet Hee-jin had an excuse ready.
"I kept the missing finger quiet for your sake, Your Highness."
"Ha?"
"If I had reported it beforehand, would your mental state have held together? You would have dumped your entire stack of Kodana before I even set foot back in the capital. Can you honestly tell me you wouldn't have?"
The Second Prince let out an incredulous scoff, but he did not deny it. Emboldened by the silence, Hee-jin's expression brightened ever so slightly. In the end, rather than pressing the issue, the prince let out a long, weary sigh.
"...Fine. I suppose I must commend you for retaining that much presence of mind even while crippled."
"Thank you, Your Highness."
"So, how exactly do you plan to get me out?"
"There's a way," Hee-jin said, leaning in. "...First, offload about seventy percent of your holdings onto the Holy Kingdom's leadership. That Holy Emperor fellow doesn't seem satisfied with the meager donations I've been tossing him. He's been dying to jump into the Kodana market himself, only he missed the entry window and has been smacking his lips from the sidelines."
"The Holy Kingdom? Won't they be suspicious? And where would they get that kind of gold?"
"They're filthy rich, Your Highness. The Holy Emperor and a few cardinals have just been stashing it all in their private slush funds. What's the current market price... three hundred and eighty million liras, right? If you offer it to them at a discount, they'll snap at the bait, thinking they're making a killing. If we just give them a discount out of nowhere, it might smell fishy, so tell them to throw in a couple of sacred holy relics to offset the difference."
"His Majesty has a keen interest in collecting holy relics, so that wouldn't arouse suspicion. But the Church would never part with sacred relics."
"They will. Besides, after their paladins got massacred on the front lines, their military strength has been gutted. Even if the market crashes later, they won't have the teeth to retaliate. And as for the rest of your coins... right. Dump them on Eric."
"Eric? That commoner? Why would someone who already cashed out jump back into the fire?"
"Your Highness might not know this, but plenty of retail fools take profits and immediately FOMO back in. Besides, Eric has always been an obedient dog who does whatever I tell him. I'll convince him personally. Just summon him here quietly."
"...Very well. Let us proceed with that."
The Hero bowed with the barest pretense of courtesy from his slouched posture, but the Second Prince merely clicked his tongue in disgust and turned on his heel.
Left alone, Hee-jin exhaled a long breath of relief. The tension snapped from his shoulders, and he collapsed limp onto the massive bed.
One wrong step and I'm branded a traitor.
Of course, a Hero getting injured in battle was not inherently high treason. Nor had expectations for Kwon Hee-jin ever been particularly lofty to begin with. Hee-jin himself had never suffered from any manic obsession to vanquish the Demon King. Fortunately, the reigning Demon King was not the genocidal maniac type bent on driving humanity to extinction at any cost.
Considering he had felled two of the Four Heavenly Kings and dealt a crippling blow to a third, one could even argue he had vastly exceeded expectations. Under normal circumstances, an achievement of that magnitude would have earned him a hero's welcome and immense prestige. The Empire was powerful enough to hold the line against the Demon King's forces even without a summoned Hero, after all.
Unfortunately, Hee-jin was in no position to expect such honors.
Had a predecessor Hero returned with a missing finger, it would have provoked little more than quiet concern. But the fallout of Kwon Hee-jin's injury was bound to trigger an incomprehensible catastrophe.
All because of Kodana.
If the fabricated battle reports, the slaughter of the Holy Kingdom's elite paladins, and his severed finger were exposed all at once, the entire continent really would be turned upside down, just as the prince had feared.
I have to keep the prince on my side, no matter what.
Subjugating the Demon King was already out of the question anyway. And frankly, after losing his pinky, any lingering desire to swing a sword had vanished completely. He had eliminated two of the Four Heavenly Kings—surely that was more than enough to justify his room and board.
Steeling his resolve, the Hero waited for Eric to arrive.
The imperial messenger arrived just as I was in the middle of negotiating the purchase of a grain warehouse on the outskirts of the Imperial Capital.
"Sir Eric. A message from the Imperial Palace."
Opening the door, I found myself face-to-face with a valet serving the Second Prince, a man I vaguely recognized.
"Why me?"
"It is not a summons from His Highness. The Hero requests an audience with you in strict confidence."
Word had it that the Hero had slipped back into the Imperial Capital under cover of darkness the night before. Whispers of his temporary return had been circulating for a while, but it made zero sense why a man who had supposedly slain two of the Four Heavenly Kings would forgo a triumphal parade entirely, choosing instead to hole up inside the palace. And why summon me the second he got back?
Suspicious though it was, declining was not an option. I followed the prince's valet out. Once an imperial messenger delivers a summons to the palace, refusal ceases to be on the table. Having a net worth north of forty billion liras did not grant me the right to defy the imperial family.
It's been a while since I last saw the Hero.
Shortly after Kwon Hee-jin was summoned, I had commuted to the Imperial Palace for quite some time to serve as his sparring partner. Of course, back then, I spent far more time listening to him boast than actually trading blows. He must have bragged at least twenty times about how his father was a chief prosecutor back home and his older brother was in medical school. Toward the end of my stint, he even had me running errands, peddling and delivering Kodana coins on his behalf.
These days, since he was the reason I was filthy rich, I always referred to him respectfully as 'Lord Hero' and prayed for his continued health and prosperity. But back then, my only thought was: What kind of utter asshole is this?
"By the way, why would he call for me the minute he gets back to the capital?"
"...I am not privy to that. You may speak with him directly."
The valet's demeanor struck me as peculiarly polite. This was an attendant serving in the immediate orbit of the Second Prince—a man who might one day wear the crown. The servant was undoubtedly the scion of a noble family, perhaps even titled himself. He had zero reason to treat a commoner like me with deference, yet his posture was conspicuously low-profile.
Something smells rotten here.
Could they be summoning me just to pull a hit?
Come to think of it, I recalled hearing whispers that the Second Prince had flown into a berserk rage back when I pulled off that massive dump at the Kodana Exchange. Some rumors claimed he was furious because House Arcknight swept up my entire stash before he could expand his own position, while others claimed he was mad because my exit robbed him of a window to dump his own coins.
Surely he was not looking to vent his belated frustration on me now. I stared at the back of the valet's head, clicking my tongue inwardly.
Naturally, if a prince set his mind on ruining me, he could certainly try. But doing so would carry an exorbitant political cost even for him. Above all else, harming me would undermine the value of his own Kodana holdings. If rumors spread that an investor with my profile wound up dead or maimed right after cashing out, market sentiment would inevitably crater.
The prince, as the largest whale in the Imperial Capital, would not commit such economic suicide. I tried to dismiss the paranoia gnawing at my gut, but there were plenty of other oddities piling up. Most glaringly, the valet had not said a single word about the sword resting plainly at my hip. I was no longer an Imperial Guard Knight, nor did I hold any official standing that permitted bearing arms in the palace.
While I wrestled with rising confusion, the attendant finally halted outside a familiar set of double doors—the Hero's private residence, where I had reported several times in the past.
"Please enter."
The prince's valet even held the door open for me. Offering a noncommittal nod, I stepped across the threshold into the room.
Waiting inside was the Hero himself.
"Long time no see, Eric."
He offered a stiff, awkward grin. The greeting felt unnatural, and not just because it had been months since we last met. Even back when we worked side-by-side every day, the Hero had never once bothered to greet me.
What's this asshole's angle all of a sudden?
Fortunately, the mystery unraveled immediately.
"I heard you sold off your Kodana," Hee-jin said, looking at me with theatrical pity. "Taking profits is all well and good, but you jumped the gun. You could have walked away with so much more."
Bringing up Kodana right off the bat was not unusual in this city, but the Hero showing tender concern for my personal finances was downright bizarre. The man was fundamentally incapable of caring about anyone but himself. For him to suddenly act like a benevolent mentor could mean only one thing...
There's bad news on the horizon.
Keeping my expression carefully neutral, I took a seat.
If disaster was brewing, I needed to figure out the exit timing for Bingo, who at this very moment was sweating bullets waiting for the price to hit his forehead. And frankly, I was a little curious to hear what kind of nonsense the Hero was about to peddle.