Chapter 20
Chapter 20
“H-He’s... alive......”
One of the successor candidates spoke up. Jeong Su-chan, an aura user specialized in detection abilities. He swallowed dryly at the sight of Gwangjo.
“Your Majesty—!”
But before the other successor candidates could get a word out, Kim Jung-heon straightened his robes and spoke in a voice more deferential than ever before.
“By Your Majesty’s grace, the talents destined to bear Joseon’s future have gathered here! Deign to look upon them with favor, that they may lead the new generation of Joseon—!”
“Deign to look upon them with favor—!”
The yangban who had filed in behind Kim Jung-heon echoed his words in unison. Andong Kim Clan, Pungyang Jo Clan, Bannam Park Clan, Dongnae Jeong Clan.... The heads of the Sedao Clans who pulled the strings of modern Joseon.
“Moreover, the court should bestow official ranks upon these successor candidates, nurturing them into the sturdy timber that will one day raise Joseon high!”
Creak.Creak-creak.
As Kim Jung-heon spoke, the mechanical arms flanking Gwangjo’s body whirred to life. A brush linked to the machinery scribbled out an official decree at blinding speed, then positioned it near the corpse’s... arm.
The device attached to the corpse’s arm manipulated Gwangjo’s hand to grasp the national seal. The moment that fleshly hand stamped the document, a speaker embedded in the head blared a grotesquely warped rendition of Emperor Lee Cheol-heon’s royal voice.
—Proceed as you desire.
The king had personally stamped the seal and given his royal assent. With that, Kim Jung-heon’s words became imperial decree.
“We are eternally grateful, Your Majesty!”
“We are eternally grateful—!”
Led by Kim Jung-heon’s solemn cry, the Sedao Clan heads bowed as one. Yangban prostrating before a corpse. Kim Hyun-woo and the successor candidates, heads lowered in stunned confusion at the center of it all.
I couldn’t make sense of it. Not from the beginning. Not to the end. Whatever the hell I’d just witnessed.
“This is the secret of the nation called Joseon.”
As palace maids swept in to collect the sealed document, Kim Jung-heon eyed the frozen successor candidates—who didn’t dare speak—and slowly opened his mouth.
“The Third Prince’s Rebellion, three hundred years ago. Our clan’s founders, the backbone of the Royal Guard, crushed the uprising led by Crown Prince Lee Chi-eon.”
Familiar history. The sovereign, impressed by their merits, had proclaimed Kim Su-heon—the Andong Kim head at the time—and his twelve Golden Guard commanders as protectors of the royal house. And those same retainers had evolved into... the Sedao Clans of today.
“But in that rebellion, His Majesty... his sacred body was grievously wounded. His holy constitution weakened.”
What came next, though, wasn’t in any Joseon history text.
“Yet Joseon then was mired in chaos—monsters, rifts, and the invasions they invited from beyond.”
News of His Majesty’s dire condition could doom the entire nation. And so... no, using that as pretext, their forebears hatched a scheme.
“Kim Su-heon, commander of the twelve Golden Guards, enshrined His Majesty upon the throne of Geunjeongjeon Hall. With all Joseon’s technology, he preserved that sacred body.”
“......!”
“And here is the result: His Majesty guards that throne to this day, unyielding across three centuries.”
A skeletal husk, no better than a skull. Reduced to a machine that could only wield the seal and intone royal edicts.
Yu A-rin. So that’s why the elders lost their shit the moment she showed up...!
Kim Hyun-woo seethed inwardly. The Sedao Clans’ power stemmed from the status Emperor Lee Cheol-heon had bestowed.
[Protectors of the Royal Family]
That title granted them unchecked authority to invoke the king’s will, bending Joseon to their whims.
But Yu A-rin... that royal-blooded bitch could shatter it all.
The last true royal left in Joseon. Bearer of Emperor Lee Cheol-heon’s blood and aura. What if she grew into her power and claimed the throne? What if she beheld the sovereign here—a living corpse propped on his seat?
The yangban’s dominion would crumble. Joseon’s power structure could invert entirely.
“Our duty is to safeguard His Majesty’s sacred body and ensure Joseon’s eternal prosperity.”
“......!”
“Burn this truth into your minds.”
The Sedao elders clustered around Kim Jung-heon. At last, the young successor candidates bowed their heads—slowly, deliberately. Now they understood. Why this rite was dubbed the “Audience Ceremony.” Why only a select few from yangban houses attended.
A king dead on his feet long ago. Sedao Clans puppeteering his corpse, lording over power equal to his....
Kim Hyun-woo brooded. Power built on sandcastles.
With Yu A-rin dead, no royal heirs remain. But...
Could this regime endure forever?
No. Not a chance. Rule leeching off feats from centuries past? No sane system endured like that.
Then...
Someone has to shatter it.
Kim Hyun-woo’s gaze swept to the clan heads awaiting them. His hazy ambitions crystallized in that instant.
You old fucks.
Squatting at the pinnacle without merit or talent. Parasites gnawing Joseon hollow.
His father chose symbiosis. He would not. He’d amass strength. Build factions. Garner fame until all Joseon knew his name. And when the time came—armed with true power and right—
I’ll eradicate every last one from this land.
“Ughhhhh...!”
The instant I shoved open the taxi door, a groan escaped me. Exhausted. Bone-tired, no joke.
“You’re back, sir.”
Tae-woong greeted me as I stepped inside—my bodyguard knight. Unlike Moo-young, Tae-woong’s full-body augments were under clan oversight, so I’d parked him at the main house to feed me intel on the inside.
“Today felt like a damn war.”
“I got the gist from Moo-young. Said you made a bunch of new friends.”
“Yeah. Great friends.”
I mulled it over while heading down the hall to my quarters. First up: Yu A-rin and Yu Sang-hyun. They had to slip the Sedao Clans’ and corps’ nets, trek back to their Hamgyong stronghold. No cakewalk, but I wasn’t sweating it.
Smoother than my past life, at least.
Word from back then: A-rin had punched through that gauntlet barefoot with Hwae’s ragged survivors. They’d bungled the capture, let the revolt ignite. This time? Yu Sang-hyun alive, Hwae intact. Piece of cake.
I replayed our parting.
“Thanks.”
“Huh? Uh...”
Right as we wrapped the curt goodbye, Yu Sang-hyun bowed low, gratitude pouring out.
“Saving my girl. Giving me a shot at tomorrow... Hell if I know how to repay that.”
“Cut it out. Why’s the Iron Tiger commander bowing to me?”
“I swear it.”
He ignored my protests, clamped my hand in his iron grip, voice steely.
“I’ll raise A-rin so she carves her own world.”
“......”
“And Yu Sang-hyun—Iron Tiger Army—we won’t forget our debt. To A-rin’s savior.”
“...The hell.”
Reborn, and I’m swimming in scenes straight out of a fever dream. Moo-young bawling thanks after vowing my death. The Iron Tiger commander—from vids only—bowing low.
Yu Sang-hyun boarded the Hamgyong-bound ride.
“Young master! Play again sometime!”
A-rin’s beaming wave, all sunshine. Waving back, her past-life ghost flickered: enemy gore drenching her, eyes feral, torching Hanseong. Vengeance-mad. This giggling kid? Much better.
As Yu Sang-hyun and A-rin turned to go...
“Take this.”
Yi Mae-tal thrust something my way.
“...The fuck’s this?”
A ridiculous mask. Bulging tadpole eyes, blunt pig snout, twisted frog maw. Ugly stitched from ugly.
“Chorangi mask. Mask dance staple—yangban house lackey.”
“And? Juggle with it on the street?”
“...Scan the code on back.”
Back side... there. Eyeball scanner hummed.
[Biometric Registration Complete]
A terse message, then text flooded my view.
“This is...”
“Database we Hwae built—me and the crew. Nationwide intel, Hanseong included. Temp safehouses. Anonymous account punched through—spend discreet, it’s yours.”
Data viewer, huh. But why hand it over?
“Recruiting me? Pass.”
“Yeah, figured.”
Regret flickered. He spoke slow.
“That’s why the Chorangi. Not full member—outside ally. Fair compromise?”
“Ally.”
Bullshit. Watcher. But... not a bad deal.
Handy as hell.
Partial Hwae database access. Untraceable funds. Their promised payout’d hit there, bet.
Money. Intel web. Solid guards, allies. Basics covered.
Next phase brewing.
Then—
“Hm?”
Tae-woong snapped to attention at the oncoming figure. Kim Hyun-woo. Ceremonial hat still on—fresh from the audience.
“Out gallivanting lately. Slumming with trash?”
“Didn’t peg you for caring ’bout scum like me, young master. Really?”
“...!”
Why’s this prick gotta grate every nerve? Pass quiet, nobody dies.
My jab twisted his face—like always. Fleeting.
“...Pathetic fool.”
A smirk, and he brushed past. Aura all wrong. Changed.
Watching him go:
Saw His Majesty, alright.
Made sense. Audience day. His first loss. The day his scheme solidified. Shatter the Geunjeongjeon husk. Claim the throne. Festering ambition.
“Ah, you.”
We’d split—then he halted, turned.
“House whispers turning sour. Sedao whelp spotted in the underbelly.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Whispers, my ass. My plants’ reports.
“What’re you scheming?”
“Me? Scheming? I’d never.”
Not in your web.
Shrug. “Business booming lately. Big cash windfall, unexpected.”
“...?”
“Birds of a feather—figured I’d spread some to my scum kin.”
“Spread?”
“Yup.”
Sly grin. “Charity gig.”
“...?”
“Make it fun.”