Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Prince's Rebellion (3)
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-Boom! Boom! Boom!
With the vibrant fireworks blooming in the sky as a backdrop, the banquet began.
The bloodline of the Saudi royal family gathered in the palace banquet hall.
They were celebrating the sixty-ninth birthday of Saudi Arabia's King Mohammed with a grand feast.
Mountains of delicacies piled on golden tableware. A dazzling array of jewels to be gifted to the attendees.
Beneath the chandelier embroidered with pure white diamonds, nothing failed to sparkle.
"Come, eat your fill. Noble ones who carry the great royal blood!"
Was it because this was a separate banquet prepared for the royal family before inviting external guests?
The opulence and extravagance were so dazzling it hurt the eyes. It felt as if they were flaunting their wealth to the gods themselves.
Black gold, the source of national wealth—oil. And the nights of indulgence traded for it.
As the banquet atmosphere ripened, every attendee began to succumb to the alcohol and the mood.
Everyone except one: Prince Bin Salman.
"Prince Bin Salman. Are you not enjoying this occasion? Why does your face brim with worry?"
King Mohammed of Saudi Arabia, troubled by the unusual glint in Prince Bin Salman's eyes. The fine hairs on his arm stood on end.
As a seasoned politician, he knew he had to confirm it here today.
Whether the chilling cold emanating from this young ambitious man before him would pierce his throat like a sharpened awl.
"To me, this place feels uncomfortable, Your Majesty."
"...Uncomfortable? What rash words on such a joyous day. Is there something troubling your heart?"
Outwardly wearing the mask of a benevolent uncle, inwardly King Mohammed probed the depths of his nephew's soul.
Surely... that cub lion's scruff had a thick collar firmly tied around it.
A mere titular position as military facilities manager, stripped of any command over troops.
No matter how much it growled and bared its sharp fangs, he believed it could be securely chained in a corner of the yard.
Yet today, the line felt unusually taut, as if it might snap at any moment.
Prince Bin Salman slowly opened his mouth, gazing at the loosened knot and the fluff drifting in the air.
"A single phrase someone passed to me. It lingers in my mind without end, Your Majesty."
He tried to conceal it, but through the shadows, the cub lion's sharp teeth and claws were revealed.
That blade called ambition would tear him—the king, his uncle—and his cousin brothers to shreds at any moment.
The king swallowed the acrid blood rising to his lips.
The blaring alarm in his head screamed to swiftly strip Prince Bin Salman of all military authority.
"Hmm, what words could wound a prince's heart so? What exactly did they say?"
The feeling... was not good.
Like overlaying two pictures, King Mohammed superimposed the prince's military facilities manager position with foreign influences.
From what had been ordinary, separate landscapes, two strong hands seemed ready to burst forth.
Hands ominous enough to throttle him in an instant.
"......"
"Does the prince not hear me? Why do you remain silent? This is a command from the king. Speak at once."
King Mohammed, his resolve hardened.
With a stern expression, he switched masks and pressed Prince Bin Salman for an answer.
It no longer mattered what the response would be.
He would seize upon a single word or phrase, imbue it with political meaning, and make it grounds for attack.
The banquet hall fell silent in the ominous tension. Only the ticking of wristwatches filled the room.
And finally, the cub lion spoke.
"Saudi Arabia, as it is now, is a pseudo-theocracy doomed to ruin." So it was said.
"What... Such insolence! Which bastard dared utter those words!"
The king's gaze brimmed with intimidation.
Yet Prince Bin Salman did not avert his eyes.
As if he had foreseen this very moment, the cub lion growled.
The prince's crudely tied collar, now reduced to mere thread, dangled precariously in parallel, on the verge of breaking.
-Thud! Thud!
In the frozen silence where no one dared speak, the fireworks from the garden rang out especially loud.
No one in the palace banquet hall noticed that the colorful patterns that should have followed in the sky were absent.
With the successive blasts of explosives, the cumbersome collar around Prince Bin Salman's neck snapped.
"Truly outrageous words, are they not? Yet this cursed prophecy draws ever closer to reality."
"What do you... "
The faint, eerie explosions now reverberated clearly even to the banquet hall deep within the palace.
Approaching gunfire. Screams from people outside. And... the heavy rumble of machinery.
"Argh! Rebellion! It's a rebellion!"
"What is this madness! Where are the guards!"
-Rumble!
In that moment when urgency crashed like a tidal wave.
One wall collapsed, revealing an armored vehicle unit clad in steel plating.
Amid the billowing dust over the debris, the rear hatch of the armored vehicle opened, and armed soldiers poured out.
"Team A! Secure the royals! Collateral branches except key figures can be executed if they resist!"
The banquet hall turned into pandemonium in an instant.
The king, sprawled on the floor and bound by PMC operatives. Before his eyes loomed the barrel of a gold-plated pistol.
"Commander. Communications center and cabinet?"
"All secured as planned, Your Highness."
"Good work. Then, Seo-jun Han. Where's that friend now?"
"Just sent a team. He's on his way here."
Prince Bin Salman toyed with his finger on the trigger.
A slight pull, and blood would gush from the king's head like a river.
"Bin Salman... So you harbored treason. I should have acted sooner..."
"Your Majesty. I could no longer stand by and watch this nation crumble."
The young male lion brimming with ambition.
Gone was the cub's downy fur; coarse, golden mane now gleamed around the prince's neck.
Prince Bin Salman finally extended his claws before the king.
A low growl rumbled from his throat.
"Now... rest peacefully at God's side. All burdens and sins, this unworthy one shall bear and forge ahead."
* * *
-The 'Prince's Rebellion' in Saudi Arabia has reached its conclusion. Crown Prince Bin Salman, now first in the line of succession, has enthroned his father, Abdullah Saud, as king.
-Crown Prince Bin Salman has also announced strengthened military ties with Korea. Ammunition Group, overseeing Saudi's new government's defense reforms, has secured export deals nearing 90 trillion won, which authorities welcome...
Hotel suite room.
I picked up the remote and muted the TV.
On the silent screen, traces of the coup unfolded.
Though just two days ago, the scene felt vividly alive before my eyes.
"Phew, good thing it wasn't a dream."
For now, it was satisfying. More than satisfactory.
We'd achieved the goal of a 'peaceful' regime change in Saudi Arabia, reaping ample rewards both for Ammunition Group and myself personally.
But unexpected issues always arise, and this one was...
"Whoa, our director really looks the part of a rebel leader in that photo. And what's with holding that golden pistol?"
On the TV screen, Prince Bin Salman—no, now Crown Prince Bin Salman.
Beside him, grinning brightly as if his right-hand man, was me, receiving the golden pistol as a gift.
I had to smile in that situation.
"Sigh... I don't know. What could I do when Prince Bin Salman just shoved it into my hands?"
The finale of Saudi's Prince's Rebellion took place before a broadcast van hauled in from Riyadh's central station.
Crown Prince Bin Salman, passionately declaring himself Saudi Arabia's new master.
'The corrupt ones blinded the king and became parasitic thieves of national wealth! Thus, this prince, with tears of blood, quelled the uprising!'
Two days ago, while quietly lounging in my hotel suite, I too had been half-forcibly dragged to that speech.
Seated in the VIP section just to fill a seat.
Truth be told, I had no intention of stepping forward.
It wasn't something to brag about—a coup—and appearing on global broadcast for no reason wouldn't end well.
However... Crown Prince Bin Salman's intentions differed.
'Today, on this historic day, I wish to personally honor those who contributed! May God's blessings be upon Saudi's benefactors!'
And then, out of nowhere, the golden pistol half-forcibly placed in my hand at the scene.
Since medals would take time, this was to hold for now, apparently.
"Rebel leader Director Han Seo-jun? Time to depart, sir?"
"Ah, stop teasing me, please."
"Heh heh heh... You look ready to shoot me with it. But seriously, it's time. Already 9:30."
Having packed and checked out of the hotel, we stepped outside to a line of military vehicles.
Following the escort's signal, I boarded the middle one, where Crown Prince Bin Salman was already seated beside me.
"You must be quite busy. Needing to squeeze in even these spare moments."
"They say holding power is harder than seizing it. Hence, carving out time."
En route to the airport.
Crown Prince Bin Salman received something from his secretary in the front passenger seat and handed it to me.
"Take this first."
A box made of teak wood plated in gold leaf.
Inside was a stack of documents stamped by the Saudi Arabian government.
Not some non-binding MOU, but the official contract originals.
Formally entrusting Ammunition Group with oversight of Saudi military defense reforms.
"Seo-jun Han, I owe you a great debt."
"I won't deny it. I staked my life on it, after all."
"Refreshing honesty. So, is there more you desire from me?"
I glanced toward the driver and front passenger escorts.
Crown Prince Bin Salman nodded and pressed a button.
With a heavy mechanical whir, a partition rose from below, sealing front from back.
"Now we can speak freely."
"Thank you, Your Highness. Then, allow me. What I seek—and what will benefit Your Highness in the future as well—is..."