The Bloodline's Reckoning
In the chairman’s office of the Ido Group.
Lee Sang-byuk exhaled a long plume of cigarette smoke as he flipped through the newspaper. Even through the hazy veil, his expression was unmistakably sour.
“Disappointing. Utterly disappointing. Is this really the best these kids can do…? Tsk.”
The page he was reading contained a weekly guild evaluation report known for its cold, precise analysis. It carried enough credibility that even industry experts occasionally cited it. Today was the off-season special edition featuring comprehensive mid-year rankings.
What displeased Lee Sang-byuk was this particular entry:
2nd Division / 4th Place / Promotion Probability: 41%
A guild that shot into the upper ranks immediately after being acquired by the Ido Group last season. However, its performance falls somewhat short of the massive investment injected…
“As expected of an owner’s child, they score high in business acumen, but they’ve failed to properly develop their raid team…”
Lee Sang-byuk let out a hollow laugh, as if the words were absurd.
“Can’t even earn back the money invested? I can’t believe it.”
The children of Ido.
That was the term used to refer to the direct descendants of the Ido family who had each taken over guild leadership in various regions. The core of the plan was to invest in local economic development under the banner of “regional revitalization,” while simultaneously operating guilds to cultivate a positive public image.
They had poured in astronomical sums of money—sums that defied imagination—yet…
“The highest-ranking one is in fourth place. And not even in the top division. Fourth in the second division…”
Best. Peak. First place.
Lee Sang-byuk’s obsession with being number one was already legendary in the industry. His entire life had been that way. Whether it was dictation tests in elementary school, academic olympiads, the college entrance exam, or even a simple game of marbles on the playground as a child—he had never once settled for anything less than first.
He had to be the absolute best. That was what the name Ido demanded.
And yet, fourth place.
Even more shocking was the fact that this fourth-place performer was the best among all the children he had invested in.
“The ones who inherited my blood are floundering. They took money that might as well have been carved from my own flesh, and now they’re being mocked for not delivering value.”
Normally, Lee Sang-byuk would have flown into a rage. But the number four was so pathetic that even anger felt embarrassing.
At that moment, Yu Cheol-ong, who had been standing silently by his side, offered him a glass of cold water and gently tried to calm the chairman.
“Please calm yourself, Chairman. This is a gossip column. They deliberately wrote it in a provocative way. It doesn’t mean your grandchildren are underperforming.”
“Fourth place. Not first, second, or third. Fourth. I didn’t even know such a number existed. And you’re telling me this is the best they can do? Cheol-ong, have your eyes gone bad? Is it time for you to retire?”
“The guild industry is full of variables. For grandchildren who knew nothing about this world, simply avoiding relegation and maintaining the status quo is already an outstanding achievement. Some of the young masters and young ladies have even improved their standings.”
“That might be true for ordinary people. But if they carry my blood, they shouldn’t be showing me a report card like this. Do you have any idea how much money they squeezed out of me?”
“…It is extremely rare for a new representative to produce results in their very first year. Moreover—”
“Enough. Stop. It’s rare, but not impossible, right?”
“……”
Yu Cheol-ong wasn’t defending them out of any personal connection. He simply knew that their poor performance was upsetting the chairman’s mood, and because they were of the chairman’s bloodline, he was desperately trying to soften the blow.
Perhaps sensing that sincerity, Lee Sang-byuk’s fury gradually subsided. The deep wrinkles between his brows slowly smoothed out.
“Stop reading the room and hand it over. You know. That thing you’re hiding in your coat.”
Yu Cheol-ong bowed slightly and produced the item from his inner pocket.
It was a newspaper. The Busan Daily.
Lee Sang-byuk opened the paper, still warm from Yu Cheol-ong’s body heat. The moment he turned to the front page, his eyes twitched. Yu Cheol-ong smiled silently.
The face dominating the front page was a photograph of Lee Shin.
Wearing a hard hat, gazing out at the sea.
“I thought the brat had caused another scandal… Next time, at least give me a warning before you drop something like this on me.”
“My apologies.”
“Ugh, enough with the apologies already…”
The article detailed how part of the cleared land would be turned into a cultural space for citizens to enjoy.
“Look at this kid. Look at what he’s doing. He poured my hard-earned money into demolition, and now the guild representative isn’t even thinking about turning a profit? He’s just giving everything away? What the hell is he thinking?”
“It was dead land that no one could use. Rather than building something immediately, perhaps he judged that showing a vision for the land was the more urgent priority.”
“You think that maniac actually thought that far ahead?”
“It is guild business, sir. Regarding the guild… you yourself once praised Young Master Lee Shin.”
That was true.
Lee Sang-byuk, famous for being stingy with praise, had been genuinely impressed by Park Su-bin and Yu Ri-ra’s performance in the final 19th Round of the first half. He had even installed a massive screen in the conference room just to watch the match.
That day, he had clapped and declared:
“Enough! Stop! Just stop.”
Lee Sang-byuk clamped a hand over Yu Cheol-ong’s mouth, then cleared his throat awkwardly and returned his attention to the newspaper.
“He plans to begin construction right after promotion, I assume?”
“Yes. As the article states, he will first attract people with walking trails, festivals, marine leisure sports, and other attractions. Then, simultaneously with promotion, he will begin construction on a new stadium.”
“The kid has surprisingly good vision for someone so young. Doesn’t he?”
“The timing is perfect.”
“Was construction his second specialty? I should tell him not to get dragged into the children’s squabbles and to focus on what matters.”
“Chairman, speaking of the children’s squabbles…”
“What?”
“It appears Assemblyman Jeong Uk recently attempted to obstruct Young Master Lee Shin’s project.”
“There’s no need to remember the name of some insignificant pest. The project in question is this one?”
“Yes.”
There was no reason for Yu Cheol-ong to be this cautious over a mere local assemblyman. Which meant…
“Which one?”
“It was Young Lady Lee So-yul.”
“Her? She hasn’t been back from England that long. Does she already have connections in Yeouido?”
“It seems… Young Master Lee Myeong-hwan assisted her.”
“Heh heh. So the ones Shin hates have banded together. How touching.”
No matter how much they tried to hide it, everything happened inside the Buddha’s palm. In this empire, there was no way to escape Lee Sang-byuk’s eyes.
Except for one person, until now.
“Leave them be. Children grow by fighting.”
“Understood.”
“Still, that assemblyman must have lost his mind. Why get involved in a children’s fight? A politician who can’t tell when to intervene and when to stay out is useless. Tsk.”
“I will take immediate action.”
There was no need for further discussion. To these men, the value of an assemblyman was exactly this low.
“It’s fascinating, really.”
The article was filled with nothing but praise. People were singing his praises in unison. He was being acknowledged.
This was the same Lee Shin they had dragged out of a mental hospital just the other day. The same wretch they had locked inside the house, telling him not to cause trouble.
That pretty-faced bastard had stormed into this very chairman’s office, knelt down, and begged, “Grandfather, I want to run a guild…” He had wagered every last share he owned and somehow seized that final opportunity with style.
Who could have imagined that the family’s biggest troublemaker would turn out to be a genius troublemaker?
Is this truly your path, boy?
Lee Sang-byuk stared at Lee Shin’s photo in the newspaper for a long time. Then his eyes fell on the evaluation report lying discarded on the floor.
Disgust washed over him.
The so-called troublemaker was desperately proving himself despite the world pointing fingers at him, while the ones everyone thought were normal were floundering despite better environments and far more support.
So who was the real troublemaker now?
Suddenly, lightning struck inside Lee Sang-byuk’s mind. The corner of his mouth twitched.
“Cheol-ong.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Shall we see the children’s faces after so long?”
“I will prepare immediately.”
“Good.”
Gathering the children who had delivered such disappointing results alongside Lee Shin, who was currently riding the highest wave of public acclaim?
“I’m already looking forward to it.”
For the first time in a while, Lee Sang-byuk smiled.
— “Let’s see your faces.”
That single sentence from Lee Sang-byuk was all it took to gather every direct descendant of the Ido family in one place.
It wasn’t an order. There was no coercion. Yet every single one of them, scattered across the country managing their guilds, dropped everything and rushed to his mansion as if their feet were on fire.
Lee Shin was among them.
Of course, unlike his cousins who had come running in a panic, he hadn’t been quite so desperate.
At first, with the facility expansion, the Yongwanggung project construction, and the off-season team reorganization piling up like a mountain of work, he had tried to brush it off with a casual “I’ll come later~!” But then—
— “Shut up and get over here. No nonsense.”
…Lee Shin was a filial grandson. If he hadn’t been, he would have ignored even his grandfather’s summons. So yes, he was a filial grandson.
After carving out time from his packed schedule, Lee Shin stepped out of the study. He stood there with a sullen expression, staring at the closed door for a long time.
“I’m so busy I could die, and he’s treating me like a dog he’s training.”
But the moment he heard the next voice, he quickly wiped the sullen look off his face and pulled out the mask of a “kind older brother.”
“Oppa!! Watch your mouth!!”
“Huh? Oh! Yun-ji!”
The girl approaching him with a bright, refreshing smile was Lee Yun-ji. His biological younger sister, whose name used the characters for “beautiful” and “branch.”
“Why didn’t you answer my calls?!”
“Huh? You called? I didn’t… oh, you did call. Hahaha. Anyway, our Yun-ji, when did you get so tall? You’re as tall as me now!”
“Ugh… I’m all grown up now, you know!”
“Wow, our Yun-ji has become a proper adult while I wasn’t looking.”
Like brother, like sister.
It seemed the genes in this house had some consistency after all—Lee Yun-ji was also strikingly beautiful. She had the elegant air of a noble young lady from a fairy tale.
“Dad told me to keep an eye on you!”
“Oh dear, that man is getting craftier with age. How did he know I’m weak when it comes to our pretty Yun-ji… Ow!”
“How dare you call Dad ‘that man’! Seriously!”
Even as she pinched his side, Lee Shin was laughing.
After he returned from the mental hospital, when even their parents refused to speak to him, Lee Yun-ji had been the one who still treated him warmly and reminded him what family meant.
In a house where everyone’s eyes turned bloodshot at the mere mention of money, it was a miracle that such a kind and warm child had been born. Perhaps because of that, even the previous “Lee Shin”—who had been notorious for being eccentric—had always shown an unusually normal side when it came to her. Thanks to that, the siblings got along surprisingly well.
Pulled along by Lee Yun-ji’s hand, they stepped out into the garden.
To exaggerate only slightly, it was practically a meadow. The word “wide” felt insufficient; “vast” was far more appropriate.
On one side, chefs specializing in Korean, Chinese, Japanese, and Western cuisine were hard at work. Their knife work was so fast it was almost invisible. Even celebrity chefs with greater public recognition than most idols could be seen among them.
Yet no one dared to show off their presence. Because this was the mansion of the giant, Lee Sang-byuk.
The young man leaning against that tree over there owned dozens of buildings in the Seoul suburbs. The woman who had been frowning at the harsh sunlight but quickly smoothed her expression when she noticed them was the daughter of a massive law firm. The person smoking nervously in the corner was the second son of a media company that represented the entire nation.
This was the Ido family. The true peak of the country. The real royal family.
And then—
“Oppa, stop that! Don’t eat with your hands!”
“This is delicious. Want some, Yun-ji?”
—in the middle of these royals, the true purebloods were these two.
Lee Yun-ji scolding her brother for eating LA galbi with his bare hands, while Lee Shin, sauce smeared around his mouth, let himself be dragged along by his little sister.
They were the most legitimate bloodline within the entire Ido clan.
If one were to compare them to a manhwa, they would be the Heavenly Dragon People.
That was why everyone held their breath the moment the pair appeared. Every single eye locked onto them, watching their every move.
“Hmm, am I being paranoid? Why does it feel like everyone is staring at us?”
At Lee Yun-ji’s innocent, wide-eyed glance around, Lee Shin smirked with sauce still on his lips and answered.
“My beloved little sister, have you ever heard of the term ‘public enemy’?”
“Public enemy??”
“Exactly.”
Lee Shin proudly pointed his thumb at himself.
“That’s me.”