The Crimson Relic

The reward.

First, let's rule out option two.

Dirty money was useless to someone like me—no real backing, no connections to launder it through. The sum looked impressive on paper, but if I couldn't spend a single coin of it, taking it meant nothing at all.

That leaves one, three, and four…

I laid out their features one by one.

Option one was simply the original payment we had already agreed on. Ninety million won for the job itself, another ninety million for taking command on top of it, and the remaining twenty million tossed in as pure goodwill. Choosing it meant zero risk of coming out behind. That was its only real virtue.

Next, option three: payment in goods instead of cash.

What does Leviathan even sell?

Obviously nothing like narcotics. What I could actually get my hands on would be firearms, artifacts that ran on pure mana, and high-grade intelligence. Not a bad haul in theory. Being able to buy up to twice the value of option one without any middleman fees was an enormous perk, and most of those items never hit the open market.

Still, it didn't tempt me right now.

The moment a delivery shows up at the mansion, every single person living here starts hovering. Physical goods? Absolutely not.

Picture it: a crate of Leviathan firearms landing on the Vitelsbach doorstep. The household would have a collective heart attack the second they checked the contents. That kind of reward was something I could only accept after I'd paid off every debt and finally stood on my own.

So option three was out as well.

Which leaves four… I still can't figure out what she was thinking when she offered this one.

The cash total was smaller than option one. Yet the condition attached to it kept tugging at me.

“A random item,” she wrote—but Yekaterina herself will pick it.

And whatever she chose would almost certainly be worth more than the extra sixty million I could pocket by taking the safe route. How could I be so sure? Because if I selected the “random” option and some worthless trinket arrived, our relationship would cool overnight. Unless she was genuinely stupid enough to cheap out on me, this choice was her way of recommending itself.

What is she planning to send?

Even if she thought the item was useful, there was no guarantee it would help me in my current situation. In other words, she might be promising something that would be valuable no matter how little she knew about my daily life. I wouldn't know for certain until it arrived.

Not that stewing over it will solve anything. She could just as easily grab whatever random stock item is lying around the Leviathan warehouse.

—Laplace, what do you think?

—Enough. You can stop there.

For all her near-human sophistication, Laplace still hadn't escaped the cautious limits of an artificial intelligence. Even the opening of her reply reeked of careful evasion; she was clearly trying not to commit to an opinion.

“Well, it'd be a waste not to pick this one.”

She had practically rolled out the red carpet for option four. I wasn't about to settle for an extra sixty million when curiosity—and the chance of something truly rare—was on the table. Whatever ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠arrived would probably be of limited use to a slave like me, but still.

Please don't let it be some bizarre magic tool I can't even activate. Without a unique ability I can't sense mana at all; every day is already hard enough.

—Option four looks good.

A problem? Plenty.

If I handed Leviathan my address, they would know exactly where I lived. For long-term operations that was unacceptable—I had to keep my location sealed.

I ordered Laplace to cross-check. In under five seconds she surfaced a company that matched Yekaterina's description perfectly—solid reviews, high trust rating. With them I could receive the package without exposing my location.

Yekaterina fell silent for a few seconds, as if organizing her thoughts, then the next message arrived.

She bundled the key posts and flame wars of the past few weeks and dumped them into my inbox.

I had no intention of fleeing to other platforms anyway—maintaining visibility mattered—but I would have to be more careful from now on.

I ended the conversation with Yekaterina and spent the rest of the day digging through my inbox for the next job.

One week later.

I finally received the package Yekaterina had sent, right there at the mansion.

“Seo-hyun, a package…!”

“W-wait! Leave it right there! Don't touch it!”

Yulia snatched her hands back the instant she heard the panic in my voice.

“You ordered another delivery?”

“What's in this one?”

“Just textbooks and… various things. Haha…”

I still had no idea what was inside, but the box was just large enough that I could carry it alone. This had to be the item Yekaterina promised. Whatever it was, the size already made me nervous.

Please don't be too big…

At this volume I would need a padlock and a locked drawer just to keep it hidden.

As always, I carried the box straight into my room, shut the door, and began opening it on the spot.

“Hoo… all right. Let's see what she actually sent.”

I estimated the contents were worth at least sixty million won, so I cut the tape with extreme care, determined not to damage whatever lay inside.

What greeted me when the cardboard fell away was a sea of white plastic inflated with air—bubble wrap that filled nearly the entire volume of the box.

What the…? Over-packaging?

If the box's volume was ten, the ratio of cushioning to actual content looked like nine to one. Even the most notoriously over-packaged snacks never went this far.

Once I peeled away every last layer of bubble wrap, a small jewelry case remained—small enough to fit in one hand.

“This is…”

I had no idea what it could be. I brought the case to my nose and a thick, metallic scent of blood rose from inside.

“Ugh…!”

The stench bypassed my nerves and stabbed straight into my brain. I jerked my face away at once.

“What the hell is this…”

Whatever sat inside, it was nothing normal. Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to leave the lid closed forever.

But what choice did I have? The package had already arrived; throwing it away wasn't an option.

I forced down the violent rejection screaming through every cell of my body and slowly opened the case.

The first thing I saw was a deep ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠crimson gem that resembled a ruby—yet far too black in places, as though ruby dust had been scattered over something darker. I had no idea what it was for, but every instinct screamed that it was dangerous.

“There's… an instruction sheet?”

Beneath the gem lay a folded manual explaining how to use the object. I reached for it carefully.

The moment my fingers brushed the blood-dark jewel, searing pain shot up my nerves and exploded inside my skull.

Ghhhk…!

My stomach lurched. I finally understood what people meant when they said pain so intense you couldn't even scream. It was worse than the gunshot that had killed me in my previous life.

“Kkuh…!”

With trembling effort I stretched out my hand, snatched the paper from the case, and tried to unfold it. The agony made the letters swim; I couldn't read a single line properly.

In the end I gave up, shoved the sheet into my pocket, and that was the last thing I remembered before consciousness shattered.