Accept the Demand, and No Blood Will Be Shed (1)
"You've all worked hard. Rise."
I gave the command to the thousand Blood Heavenly Cult members kneeling before me.
Whatever thoughts they might harbor in their hearts, I couldn't very well scold people who had crossed dimensions on my account alone.
The moment my permission fell, the thousand kneeling cultists rose to their feet in perfect unison.
Even now, the sight of Blood Heavenly Cult members in their crimson battle robes gathered between the barren asphalt and the skyscrapers clawing at the sky was something I simply could not get used to, no matter how many times I saw it.
But when I caught sight of Samsik grinning beside me like a child waiting for praise, whatever anger I'd been nursing evaporated on the spot.
Is it a blessing, at least, that he came back before he could cause an even bigger mess?
The reason I had made the space-crossing journey alongside Samsik was thanks to Han Chaeyun.
She had pointed out that among Kuroda Sho's colorful criminal record sat a charge of kidnapping, and explained how his ability had factored into it.
In other words, if he alone could pass through that door, assassination might have been possible, but snatching someone away so effortlessly would not have been.
And the answer to that puzzle turned out to be remarkably simple.
Anything in contact with Samsik's body, whatever it happened to be, could pass through that strange sliding door.
Had that not been the case, Chaeyun reasoned, the clothes and equipment Samsik wore should have been unable to pass through the dimensional door either.
"Cult Leader, your complexion does not look well. Is something troubling you?"
While I was briefly lost in thoughts of Han Chaeyun's work, Hyeolnoe approached and asked in a careful voice.
He had always been quick to read my moods, so the question was hardly strange.
The only problem was that this time, the cause of my mood lay with him and the rest of the cultists.
...Where on earth did he pick up that book?
I could only laugh in disbelief at the sight of Hyeolnoe clutching a volume titled The Science of Geopolitics Between Nations.
Of course, from the perspective of a Blood Heavenly Cult member — no, of any Murim man — taking whatever happened to be lying around was hardly an odd behavior.
To be fair, the Central Plains had its imperial palace and its notions of civilization, so paying a price to purchase goods was the norm there — but this was not their land.
Which meant that to the cultists, this place was no different from some barbarian frontier or nomadic territory beyond the border, and treating the locals' possessions as spoils of war was simply the natural order of things.
"It's nothing of the sort. More importantly, Hyeolnoe."
"Yes. Command me."
"How did the sect manage to send over this many people? If the entire leadership has crossed, who governs the Central Plains?"
At my question, Hyeolnoe answered with a benevolent smile.
"Put your mind at ease. First, the Head of the Law Enforcement Hall, Cheolhyeoljon, remains with the sect, and in case of unforeseen circumstances the Ten Blood Squad stands ready on standby. Besides, the sect's authority has already unified the Central Plains — what fools would dare move against us? If anything, the place where the Cult Leader resides is the most important battlefield for us."
I shrugged at the sight of Hyeolnoe, his words flowing as smooth as oiled tongue.
I had known it since our days in Murim — he was simply an opponent one could never beat with words.
"So. What's the current situation?"
I asked, wrinkling my nose at the smell of blood hanging in the air, and even to my brusque question Hyeolnoe promptly produced the answer I wanted.
"There was an engagement with the local residents, and we were victorious. We fought with measured restraint to establish the sect's authority, and confirmed that the locals were no match for the sect's elite. We have also conveyed our desire to speak with the master of this place."
"...The master?"
"As far as I could determine, there seems to be no emperor here, but someone appears to fill a role much like one. We have requested talks with that party and are awaiting their answer."
At Hyeolnoe's words, I turned the matter over slowly in my mind.
In matters like these, Hyeolnoe had far more experience than I did, and far more skill.
It was Hyeolnoe, after all, who had shattered the age-old precedent of non-interference in court affairs and negotiated directly with the Emperor in Beijing, tearing out every concession worth having.
Now then — the closest thing to an emperor in modern China would be... the President, I suppose?
A sudden memory of teasing little Seo Yeon brought a soft chuckle to my lips.
Ten years ago by Earth's reckoning, I had been an ordinary high school student who never imagined meeting such a person in his lifetime — and now I might come face to face with one. It was a strangely marvelous feeling.
"I'll come along as well."
"As you command."
I merely nodded at Hyeolnoe's words.
A conference room under the Cabinet Intelligence and Research Office in Tokyo, Japan.
The faces of Japan's senior bureaucrats and Awakened — men who would normally have been brimming with pride — were etched with deep shame and exhaustion.
"Following the failed conquest of the S-Rank gate that appeared in North Korea, our nation's standing in the international community has hit rock bottom."
The Chief Cabinet Secretary's report froze the air in the room solid.
The whole affair had begun when Japan's Awakened — men who fancied themselves among the world's finest — tucked their tails between their legs and fled without so much as a proper exchange against a mere three Awakened from Korea.
"The real problem is that the nations we have cultivated until now are beginning to waver. If this mood persists, we may lose the initiative going forward to Korea entirely."
"So what exactly are you proposing we do about it?"
"We need an overwhelming, decisive event that flips the narrative."
Even in the face of the Prime Minister's irritated question, the Chief Cabinet Secretary answered with a placid expression.
Indeed, Japan was once again angling for the seat of Asia's hegemon.
Granted, China stood in the way like a massive mountain — but Japan's methods were of an entirely different nature.
Where China pressed its neighbors with the logic of raw power, Japan instead devoted itself to planting loyal hands and feet — men who would serve as their agents — across the nations of the region.
The trouble was that those agents were now shaking.
It did not yet amount to a genuine threat, but it was undeniable that the grand design Japan had been nurturing was warping, bit by bit.
"A few days ago, a new S-Rank gate was detected off the coast of Busan, in South Korea."
"Korea? Why there, all of a sudden?"
The Prime Minister scowled at the Chief Cabinet Secretary's words.
This entire cascade of disasters had, after all, begun with those Korean Awakened — no, those Returnees — and the mere mention of that country's name was enough to knot his brow.
"Korea in name only. Southern Korea today is as good as unclaimed territory. No — over the past several years we have poured enormous capital into the region, so more than half of Busan's major business interests are already tied up in pro-Japanese guilds or our own capital."
"...Is that so?"
"Yes. The Korean government almost certainly doesn't even know the S-Rank gate off Busan exists. They're struggling just to keep the capital region under control. If we seize this opportunity and conquer that S-Rank gate ourselves, we could not only turn international opinion around, but formally cement our dominance over southern Korea as well."
At that report, the eyes of the leadership lit up.
It was a scenario that would not only wash away their humiliation, but allow them to land a proper blow on the very country that had inflicted it.
Of course, every gaze in the room turned toward the man with the final say.
The curious thing was that the object of all those stares was not the Prime Minister, but some aged old man sitting in his place.
There was no one present who did not know that this old man was the hidden hand that truly moved Japan.
The same old man who, holding him responsible for the North Korea gate failure, had discarded Sato Kenji without mercy — and despite his gaunt, skeletal frame, he radiated an uncanny presence as he swept his gaze across the bureaucrats in the room.
"If the opportunity is that good, then there's no reason to let it pass."
BANG—!
It was at that very moment that the firmly sealed doors of the conference room burst open with a violent crack.
"Wh-what is the meaning of this?!"
The bodyguards hastily drew their weapons — then flinched and froze at the sight of the man standing beyond the threshold.
The hollowed cheeks and wild, unkempt hair made him look like a stranger, but not so unfamiliar that they failed to recognize Sato Kenji.
"Ha. Well, if it isn't Sato — the man who tucking-tailed his way out of the North."
The one to break the silence was Takahashi, the man standing beside the old man.
He was the old man's faithful hand, a sycophant who groveled like a court toady — but there was no mistaking the fact that he, too, was an S-Rank Awakened.
Wearing a venomous smirk, Takahashi stepped toward Kenji, who had strode into the conference room.
"You're a defeated dog crawling into a meeting the elder himself is chairing. What the hell are the mutts posted outside even doing, sleeping on the—"
WHAM—!
Takahashi's words ended right there.
No one saw Sato Kenji move — but the next instant, Takahashi's massive body had been hurled across the room and slammed into the wall.
He was, in name at least, an S-Rank Awakened — and yet he couldn't even mount a proper response to the attack, squirming on the floor like an insect.
"...Your... stench... smells worse from your mouth than anywhere else."
Sato Kenji said this with a brief glance at the fallen Takahashi.
His speech had grown slurred compared to before, but everyone in the room could only gape at what they had just witnessed.
No one had ever imagined Sato Kenji possessed the strength to overwhelm Takahashi, and the ability he had just displayed seemed to have nothing whatsoever to do with his specialty, Gluttony.
Worse still, the strange aura seeping from Sato Kenji's body was as ominous and menacing as that of a monster from a gate.
"H-hiik...!"
One of the leadership, meeting Sato Kenji's eyes, let out a startled groan.
Every one of them stared at Sato Kenji with fear writ across their faces — but the old man in the seat of honor maintained his composure.
The old man looked once at his collapsed underling plastered against the wall, then once at Sato Kenji as he bled killing intent, and smiled with an expression of genuine interest.
"It seems you've picked up a rather fascinating ability, Sato. So — have you come to take your revenge on me, then?"
"...N-no, Elder."
Sato Kenji bowed respectfully at the waist as he answered the old man's question.
It was certainly true that he had gained tremendous power through Babel — and yet the depths of the old man's strength remained impossible to fathom.
No — it was only after growing stronger that Sato Kenji finally understood why the old man could shake the nation of Japan from behind the scenes.
"Then how am I meant to take this?"
"Pl-please, grant me the chance to go to Busan."
At Sato's words, the old man slowly scratched his chin.
Watching the interest slowly wither in the old man's eyes, Sato dropped to his knees and shouted again.
"I wish to wash away my own d-disgrace with my own hands. I will turn that place entirely into Japanese territory and o-offer it to you, Elder."
Sato Kenji's eyes were glinting with something grotesque.
The old man regarded him quietly for a moment — then burst into a soft chuckle.
"Very well. I delegate to you full authority over everything pertaining to the Busan gate."
It was a sudden decision, but not a single voice rose to object.
Lee Jaeseong, was it? This time will be different.
Sato Kenji could only grind his teeth as the face of Lee Jaeseong — the man who hadn't even spared his retreat a glance — burned in his memory.
And at that very moment.
The man in question, Lee Jaeseong, was sitting in a first-class conference hall prepared in Beijing, China, laughing in sheer disbelief.
These bastards — what the hell are they trying to pull right now?