Chapter 48
Chapter 48
“With this, the Pungyang Jo Clan's pursuit is finally over. What a goddamn ordeal just because of one servant.”
On the way back after slicing off Gu Jeong-hyeok's neck, a wave of relief washed over me as I stretched, feeling light enough to float away.
Between the Palcheon folks and now Salban-gae's sword thugs joining up, my crew was growing fast. Managing them properly meant money pits everywhere. Could the casino profits hold us afloat? Or branch out elsewhere? The more I thought, the more my head ached.
Gotta hire managers first. Figure out investments too. But...
The tasks ahead weren't things I could wrap up overnight like before. They'd take five to ten years, paced slow and steady.
That thought had just crossed my mind when—
“Young master.”
Tae-woong blocked our rattling cart's path. Moo-young stepped forward, drawing his sword. Only then did I spot the anomaly.
“......”
A person. No idea where they'd popped from. Crimson iron vest in the five directional colors, towering red hat. Mask over the face, bells jingling and glinting everywhere. Who the hell dressed like that?
“A shaman?”
The moment I named the intruder's garb—
Thwoom—!
They puffed up like a raging owl and charged me without a word.
“Ambush?!”
“I'll block them! Senior, protect the young master...!”
Moo-young gauged their speed, dropped low, and intercepted. His surging aura made his pace untouchable. In a flash, the sword in his cybernetic right arm arced for their neck.
Pzzt—!
“?!”
A bizarre signal whined, twisting Moo-young's mechanical arm at an unnatural angle, sword still gripped.
Clang—!
He shifted to defense, but the botched strike ruined his stance. The shaman kicked up, launching him airborne.
“Danger! Young master, behind me!”
The instant Moo-young missed, Tae-woong surged forward, cranking his cybernetics to max.
“No, wait.”
But I couldn't run. I'd clocked the shaman's trick when Moo-young whiffed: electromagnetic interference. They'd hacked his right arm and shut it down.
“Power down your cybernetics! Right now, that's—!”
“Guh?!”
A similar pulse locked Tae-woong's arms. The dead weight crushed him. The fatal flaw of cyber-augmented fighters—and this aura-less shaman had nailed it.
Not standard hacking or EW gear.
First-grade cybernetics had security in every part, every nerve link. Hacking that in seconds? Even the bunshin mask from Hwae couldn't.
Only one type could hack cybernetics and force shutdowns.
Thud—!
In a blink, the shaman blew past my guards and stopped before me. They tilted their masked face curiously, like trying to recognize me. Searching for something.
“Who are you?”
I gritted my teeth. No ploy—just didn't know.
Kim Hyun-woo's wrecked from infighting, no full-body augments. My enemies? Just killed them coming back. Who's left to ambush me?
As I scowled, racking my brain, their hand rose slowly toward my face.
Shh—
Fingers brushed my cheek, gentle as if confirming features.
“...?”
“......”
No hostility. They studied me intently, then cocked their head eerily again.
Whoosh—!
Next instant, they leaped away and vanished, as sudden as arrival. I tried my visual interface for a scan—nothing. Since Moo-young's arm died, all my electronics were fried.
Thump—!
“Young master, are you alright?!”
Legs gave out from the scare; I crumpled. Tae-woong and Moo-young—cybernetics back—rushed over, pale as death.
“Fine. No problem.”
“But your face, young master...!”
“Huh? My face?”
Moo-young's shout; I checked. Tiny blood bead on one cheek. Up close: a barely visible scratch.
What the hell?
Sudden raid. Beyond-reason cyber-hacking. Then just a scratch and bail?
Tch. Tsssh.
Static crackled from my earpiece.
—Young master? Young master! Answer quick!
Jumo's panic pierced my fog. Shook it off.
“Here. What's wrong?”
—Emergency! Right now...!
Her next words blanked my mind.
—The casino. Kim Jung-heon! The Andong Kim Clan patriarch showed up!
“Young master! Here!”
Helicopter dropped me at the casino; tense Jumo pointed. Elevator to deepest VIP room. Deep breath, enter.
Kim Jung-heon sat in the lounge, sipping tea casually.
“N-never thought the lord would visit such a place. What brings you...?”
The yangban in the VIP groveled like dogs. Spotting me, Kim Jung-heon glanced coldly at them, then spoke.
“I have words for the boy. Clear out.”
“Y-yes!”
“W-we were just leaving...”
They fled like receding tide. My money lines—watching soured my throbbing head further.
Kim Jung-heon ignored them, eyes on me.
“Greetings, Clan Lord.”
“Hm.”
Bastards like me got no “father.” He nodded at my bow, mood easing slightly.
“Saw your servants. Good guest manners. Lowborn scum, yet well-drilled.”
“My honor.”
Obvious. Etiquette was key for yangban. Jumo drilled it as ops head.
“But those... wretched.”
Sip, eyeing fleeing yangban.
“Scholars to model virtue for the masses, buried in gambling dens, vice-mad.”
“......”
“Vulgar pigs as Joseon's gentlemen?”
His casino verdict. Fair. Power-fiend and propriety incarnate—disgust at “nobles” gambling made sense.
“And Kim Chang-un.”
“Yes.”
Expressionless.
“You, noble house scion, rubbing with swine, guzzling dirty coin?”
Rebuke? Contempt? It choked me. Beyond scorn—indifference. Death and regression hadn't changed that stranglehold.
Scion? Farce. Rote formality. His feeling for me: utter apathy.
Still.
“Pig-born or not, money's money.”
Swallowed rage, donned mask-smile.
“Squeeze it dry to fund clan events? Why refuse?”
“......Hm.”
No yes, no no. Just intrigued stare.
Briefly.
“To confirm.”
Straight to point.
“Did you kill Jo Seong-hwan?”
Whoooosh—
Hanseong's depths choked with exhaust, black smog. From a crumbling high-rise, the shaman gazed out, peeling off the mask.
Beep—
[Persona Upload Terminated]
[Divine Possession Code, ‘Cheok Jun-kyung’. Offline]
[Primary Persona Restoration In Progress....... Complete]
Hiss—the mask detached. Beneath: wrinkled old woman's face.
“Blood components?”
Hologram bloomed.
[Blood Component Query Result: Genetic Match 99%]
“Certain, then.”
Muttered, slumped with heavy sigh. Doubted at first glance, but proof ironclad. Plus black eyes' amethyst gleam.
“Yangban mask. Thought the dying hag was hyped for nothing... good reason after all.”
Her joy? Different source.
Crackle. Static.
She rose; high-rise power died floor by floor. Pitch black.
Soon, vibrant-robed figures gathered—bells jingling. Faceless shamans like her, awaiting word.
“Certain. Blood, eyes, aura.”
“That child... born from our Cheonghwa's womb.”