Chapter 279: Chaotic Emergency Meeting (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 279: Chaotic Emergency Meeting (2)
Kang Geomma dashed forward. Right behind him, Director Seong and Medea scrambled to catch up and stop him.
Director Seong shouted, “Heavenly Sword!”
Kang Geomma casually ignored the call and sprinted up the spiral staircase.
‘To think he’s running all the way to the twelfth floor just because the elevator is too slow...’
He was so fast that forget Director Seong—even Medea couldn't keep up. He was literally as swift as lightning.
“You must not go in there!”
Seong yelled out first and thought later, praying that Geomma would hear his desperate plea and stop. Naturally, it was a futile hope. Kang Geomma only accelerated.
‘I shouldn't have told him.’
Twenty minutes ago, Kang Geomma had arrived at the Association's Seoul Branch. He asked Director Seong for an update on the meeting. Director Seong, who had been listening in on the wiretap feed, sighed heavily and answered that things were hitting a wall.
Naturally, Kang Geomma asked why, and Director Seong explained the cause without much thought. The cause was US President Ronald. A man who had always looked down on the Association, an imperialist president who believed America was the center of all power. Director Seong had thoroughly trash-talked Ronald.
He did so because he trusted Kang Geomma and felt he was more than qualified to know what was happening inside. Plus, his tongue had been itching to badmouth Ronald anyway.
‘That pig, daring to openly humiliate the Vice Association President.’
That had been the catalyst for this disaster. Hearing the story, Kang Geomma’s expression turned icy cold, and he instantly bolted toward the conference room. Medea, standing beside him, gasped in shock and gave chase, but it was useless. Compared to Kang Geomma, she was far too slow.
“Haa, haa... Was the Heavenly Sword always this fast?”
Nobody was ignorant of Kang Geomma's blazing speed anymore. But wasn't that supposed to be limited to when he drew his sashimi knife? Right now, he was simply running, yet he dragged beams of light in his wake. Furthermore, bright yellow sparks crackled and fizzed wherever he passed.
Still, Director Seong and Medea pushed through and kept chasing. When the two finally reached the conference room one after the other, a suffocatingly heavy atmosphere greeted them. Kang Geomma had unleashed his killing intent the instant he stepped inside.
Having experienced it a few times already, Director Seong didn't lose consciousness. Truly, humans are creatures of adaptation.
He caught his ragged breath and raised his eyes—only to pale in absolute horror.
“...!”
President Ronald was the first thing he saw. The man was collapsed over the round table, his temple and cheekbone pressed against the wood, his tongue dangling limply. It was a gruesome sight.
Wait, hold on. He's not dead, right? He just fainted, right? Right? Please tell me he just passed out.
Medea quickly rushed past Kang Geomma toward Ronald. She tapped his shin with the toe of her shoe. Not a twitch. She leaned her ear close. Not even a breath could be heard. All signs of life had completely severed.
Stepping back from Ronald, she shook her head silently, like a doctor pronouncing a death.
“We're fucked.”
Director Seong muttered. The vulgar expletive pierced straight into the minds of the world leaders. Korean was a universal language, so everyone understood its meaning. Totally fucked.
Director Seong looked over at the Spear Saint standing further away. He was standing there nonchalantly, but upon seeing Director Seong's dumbfounded expression, he let out a sigh.
“Is he dead?”
“I don't know if he's officially dead... but his heart has stopped.”
Medea replied, fidgeting with her lips at the Spear Saint's question.
“I-If his heart stopped, doesn't that mean he's dead?!”
Director Seong’s face drained of color. The rest of the world leaders turned pale as well.
“It's different from brain death. With a heart attack, you can resuscitate them with a defibrillator during the golden hour. The problem is that machine is on the first floor, and we are on the twelfth. He'll die before then.”
“That's troublesome.”
The Spear Saint scratched his beard. He spoke as if it were a dilemma, but his expression didn't quite match his words.
“If a casualty occurs during a summit, things could get a bit complicated—even if it's just a heart attack. Besides, that Yankee pig—err, President Ronald—is also a major shareholder in Lancelot Company. Without him, it might become difficult to secure the cooperation of the Hero Agency.”
That was why the Spear Saint had been swallowing his rage. Well... does it even matter now?
Step.
Kang Geomma, who had been quiet until now, suddenly took a step forward. Approaching Ronald, he looked back at the Spear Saint before reaching out his hand.
“Spear Saint, what you're saying is that keeping this Yankee alive is beneficial. Is that it?”
“It feels wrong to measure a human life in profit and loss, but... yes, pretty much.”
As he spoke, the Spear Saint cast a side glance at Ronald. The man's pupils were dilated in different directions, and rigor mortis seemed to be setting in faster than expected.
“Though looking at his eyes, he seems beyond saving.”
“We'll only know after trying.”
“Huh? What do you mean by...”
The Spear Saint blinked in confusion before his eyes widened like saucers. Everyone else in the room reacted the exact same way.
The conference room, previously dimly lit by accent lighting, suddenly burst into brilliance as blue arcs of electricity crashed and bounced off the floor and walls.
Cracklesnap!
Everyone stared blankly at Kang Geomma. After a brief moment of stunned silence, they blocked their eyes with their hands.
It was blinding. Kang Geomma’s right hand emitted a glare so intense it practically scorched their retinas.
...Is that really a blessing? Isn't that magic?
Kang Geomma grabbed the back of Ronald's neck without hesitation. An even fiercer burst of lightning exploded. Beyond blinding, it was a light intense enough to cause permanent blindness. Everyone squeezed their eyes shut.
FLASH!
The conference room, washed out in stark white for a moment, gradually returned to its natural colors. The next instant, a groaning sound resonated from somewhere.
At that noise, the leaders snapped open eyes that had been blinking like goldfish. Through their still-recovering, hazy vision, a scene came into view: Ronald was clutching his forehead, groaning in pain.
“...W-What in the world...”
Ronald was entirely disoriented. His memories felt chopped up and hastily spliced together with scissors. And as soon as he raised his head, he gasped in sheer terror.
Kang Geomma was glaring down at him. From beneath the dark shadow cast by his bangs, his black eyes glinted menacingly.
“How does it feel to die and come back to life?”
Kang Geomma said in a low voice. He spoke informally. Any semblance of respect for the US President was utterly nonexistent.
“That... is the sensation heroes feel every single second when they throw themselves onto the front lines. While bastards like you comfortably cut steak and chug wine in fancy restaurants.”
Kang Geomma's gaze swept across the line of wine glasses on the round table. In an instant, every single glass shattered, sending glass shards flying into the air.
Taking it a step further, he channeled his intent into glaring at the premium bottled water as well. The plastic bottles crumpled like dried dishcloths.
“Now that you're in Korea, drink Yeongchangsu! Yeongchangsu! Don't you know 'local food for local body'?”
Ronald’s face turned a corpse-like shade of pale blue. Even paler than when he was hovering on the brink of life and death moments ago.
Kang Geomma spoke.
“Still, I saved you out of consideration for the citizens who were foolish enough to elect you as president.”
“...”
“Who am I talking to here?”
“T-Thank you for your mercy, Heavenly Sword!”
“For your information, all the nonsense you were spewing earlier was recorded. I'm going to leak it to the public on a massive scale once the war is over, so keep that in mind.”
“That's a bit...”
Kang Geomma narrowed his brows fiercely.
“What? Did you start missing the underworld already? Speak up. I'm someone for whom killing is far easier than saving. But you better think carefully before you open your mouth. Those might end up being your last words.”
“...I am sorry.”
Kang Geomma kicked the leg of a chair and gestured toward the corner of the room with his chin.
“If you understand, go stand in the corner with your hands up.”
“Yes...”
Ronald awkwardly slunk off toward the corner. Everyone simply watched his slumped back. Nobody tried to stop him or offer words of comfort.
Ronald dropped to his knees and raised both hands high in the air. He hung his head low like a sinner. Deep wrinkles creased his suit. Large, fat tears of humiliation began dripping down his face.
Kang Geomma leaned far back into the chair Ronald had been sitting in. He arrogantly crossed his legs.
A whirlwind of commotion had swept through and passed. The conference room entered a lull.
Kang Geomma had silenced the side chatter with violence and overwhelmed the world leaders with his unique aura. The entire sequence of events had unfolded in a single, seamless instant.
Under the silent pressure that followed, the leaders swallowed hard—drinking saliva instead of premium water. These middle-aged men, steeped in old greed and ambition, were, in plain terms, utterly terrified. Terrified of an eighteen-year-old boy.
“Let's start the meeting properly now.”
In this conference room, Kang Geomma was no different from a tyrant. But depending on the situation, a tyrant is precisely what is needed. And a situation like this was one of those times.
“As I said earlier, if you have any objections, raise your hand.”
Not a single person raised their hand until the meeting concluded.
Thus, the meeting originally scheduled for five hours was cut short by three.
*
“Hold on, Kojima.”
The Spear Saint called out to the Archery Saint, who was about to leave the room.
“...What is it?”
The Archery Saint replied without turning around. The Spear Saint chuckled sheepishly.
“Well, you know. I wanted to thank you for today. If it weren't for you, the atmosphere would have completely swung in that Yankee's favor.”
“I merely spoke up because listening to him was so absurd. I didn't say it to hear thanks from you, Senior.”
The Spear Saint's smile widened. Stubborn, honest-averse fool.
“I have something I'm curious about. Mind if I ask?”
“Are you asking why I suddenly shifted my stance?”
“Quick-witted as always.”
“It was naturally for my own sake and for Japan, the country I serve. The other leaders might not know, but having faced a Corps Commander myself, I understand. Every man for himself? If we do that, humanity won't last half a day before going extinct.”
“What I'm asking is: was it really only for that reason?”
“Do I have to answer that as well?”
The Spear Saint shrugged lightly.
“That's up to you, but when else will we ever have a conversation like this? Once the war breaks out, one or both of us could end up dead.”
“...”
The Archery Saint stood stock-still and looked up. The crown of his head, dusted with white hair like snow, was plain to see.
“While I was hospitalized after being stabbed by the Heavenly Sword, I had time to spare. Come to think of it, that was the first time I had ever idly killed time like a slacker. Ever since my wife Alice died, I had buried myself obsessively in work.”
Looking up at the ceiling, the Archery Saint scoffed self-deprecatingly at his own life in that posture.
“As I killed time, I reflected on myself and Alice. Why was I so hopelessly consumed by Alice? I questioned that first. Then, a thought suddenly occurred to me. The reason I loved Alice was...”
Lowering his gaze, the Archery Saint slowly turned to face the Spear Saint. His sky-blue irises were as vivid as they had been back in their cadet days.
“...Her conviction. 'I will shoulder the weight of others as well.' I admired that conviction. Because I could never become a person like that. Perhaps because it was something I lacked, I grew even more obsessed. An obsession wrapped in the word 'love.' Isn't that hideous?”
The Archery Saint—Kojima—spoke with great difficulty.
“I have lived for over sixty years, yet I am still a hideous human being. But Alice, though she died shortly after turning twenty, was a woman far more mature than I am today.”
“...”
“So... if the Great War is coming anyway, then even if it's late, I want to try becoming an adult at this age. That way, I feel like I'll at least have the face to see her when I join her.”
Kojima cut himself off and let out a dry laugh. Then he shook his head side to side.
“I must be going senile. To think I'm saying all this to Senior Myura, whom I used to grab by the collar whenever we locked eyes. Getting old truly is a scary thing.”
“Aren't we both just old men growing frail together?”
A broad smile bloomed across the Spear Saint's face.
“I'm turning seventy in a couple of days. I'll probably forget all about this conversation by tomorrow anyway. Don't worry about it.”
“You really have grown old too, Senior. For someone who was so reckless and tyrannical in your younger days, saying something like that...”
Even as he said so, a subtle smirk curled up one corner of the Archery Saint's mouth.