That Damn Nostalgic Face (3)
“Eunho.”
At my call, Eunho—who’d been stewing with barely contained rage—shot to his feet, his face twisted like he was ready to charge out and swing his sword.
“Want me to grab your sword?”
“Sword? What sword... We’ve got those processed documents, right?”
Eunho unclenched his fists and tilted his head in confusion.
“You mean the ones for the academy and the Education Hall?”
“Yeah. And those samples we borrowed from the Myriad Communications Division.”
“Those are... just examples, though.”
I flashed Eunho a sly grin.
“Bring every last one of them.”
“……”
Cheol Sunjik, pulling that cheap trick of yours, huh?
“Spread them all out right here.”
But what can you do? I’ve smacked down more rats like you than I can count.
“Heh...”
“What’re you scheming n—”
“Ah!”
Eunho’s baffled expression suddenly lit up with realization.
“You want us to act busy?”
“Exactly.”
A wicked smile crept across his face too.
“That sounds fun, heh heh. Got it.”
Eunho led the representative team out of the office with the gleeful look of a kid who’d found a new toy.
Alright, prep work’s done.
“Up we go.”
I rose from my seat with a calm expression. That’s when Jang Ujae’s voice piped up.
“Representative, what was that just...?”
He stared blankly between my face and the door Eunho had exited, utterly clueless about what was unfolding.
I gave his shoulder a light pat.
“Oh, it’s a thing. You’ll see.”
“……”
Let’s see just how low-rent Cheol Sunjik’s playbook really is.
# From fully processed papers to ones just needing delivery, Eunho had hauled in enough to fill the office to bursting, orchestrating maximum chaos among the team.
And soon after, guided by Jang Ujae, the so-called academy “Council of Representatives” arrived.
“……”
In the midst of the noisy office stood Cheol Sunjik and his crew, frozen like statues.
Eunho deliberately bumped their shoulders, scowling as he barked at the representatives.
“Who told you to handle things like this?!”
“S-Sorry!”
“Do it over! And...”
His fierce glare soon zeroed in on Cheol Sunjik’s group.
“Why the hell are academy students in the representative office when they’re not part of the team?”
Playing along perfectly, Jang Ujae put on a flustered face and started explaining busily.
Hoo, these guys have some chops. Maybe I should set them up for a theater gig at the academy events.
I calmly intervened.
“Eunho, they’re my guests. Take them inside.”
“Senior bro—er, Representative! Even so, do you really have to handle paperwork yourself at a time like this?”
I sighed and shook my head.
“What choice do I have? They’re supposed to represent the academy students.”
Eunho furrowed his brow like he’d heard nonsense.
“What kinda bullshit is that? We’re already the academy representatives.”
I shrugged casually and stared straight at Nam Hwaseong.
“That’s what I don’t know. That’s why I called them here—to hear what that bullshit means.”
“……”
Eunho scanned the council members with utter contempt, prompting coughs and averted eyes all around.
I glanced over the bustling representatives before turning back to Cheol Sunjik.
“Have a seat over here.”
I gestured to a cleared spot amid the paper piles. He wrinkled his nose.
“This is important talk. How about we move somewhere else?”
“Then set up a formal appointment next time. As you can see, I’m swamped.”
“……”
What’re you gonna do, glare at me like that?
When I met his eyes head-on, Cheol Sunjik’s lips twitched faintly.
“...Fine. It won’t take long anyway.”
He sat as the leader, his entourage clustering around him like bodyguards. The setup was almost comical.
“Quite the lineup. You really went all out to not look like the Twelve Peaks reps... Oh, my bad. Slip of the tongue. Ha ha.”
“……”
They flushed red in unison. A few from the Twelve Peaks were there, but most hailed from the Nine Great Clans or Five Great Families.
Regaining his composure, Cheol Sunjik donned his signature icy expression.
“If we’d come as Twelve Peaks, I’d have said so—as their council representative.”
“That’s exactly what I wanted to ask. Council of Representatives? What the hell does that even mean?”
“Council—a body that deliberates and decides.”
Oh, fancy words.
Damn, this guy’s got the best brain for bullshit.
I leaned back.
“Hmm. Decides on what, exactly?”
“Everything concerning the academy students’ actions and outcomes. It’s where all their voices converge—no room for complaints.”
Sounds great on the surface. But coming from Cheol Sunjik? Take it with a mountain of salt.
“So the council’s decisions become the students’ decisions overall?”
“Precisely.”
“Then who bears the responsibility?”
“Everyone does. The Murim Alliance has clung to top-down hierarchy forever. But look at the results: stagnation, rigid factions, and now blood purity bullshit rearing its head.”
He glanced around deliberately, as if for emphasis.
“The elite issue orders and shove blame downward. The grunts get dragged in blind and end up shouldering it all.”
The office racket died down with each clear, steady word. Sensing the eyes on him, he murmured low.
“Do you truly believe concentrating power in the hands of a few is right?”
The guy’s a natural-born talker, no doubt.
But.
“So why push this ‘horizontal, superior’ structure in the academy of all places?”
I could see right through him. A hypocrite cloaked in public good, eyes bloodshot for personal gain.
He answered my sneer without flinching.
“I figured you’d know, Representative Jin.”
I made it crystal clear.
“No clue.”
“……”
His mouth twitched. But he smoothed his expression and pressed on.
“The council will ultimately reflect everyone’s views. People will act on decisions they helped shape, taking them seriously since they’ll bear the consequences themselves.”
Still not getting it?
So blatant.
I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Then the reason for forming this council is obvious as day.”
Cheol Sunjik wanted to impose this “horizontal” setup on the representatives—to dilute our power.
“Isn’t it time to shatter centuries of rotten traditions? You’ve broken norms before, Representative Jin. I have faith in you.”
He fixed me with eyes of pure innocence.
“You’re the one to take the first step against the coercive practices dominating the academy and Alliance.”
The guy who’d stuck to “Representative Jin” now tacked on the honorific.
Ha, this rat’s a pro at reading the wind.
Cheol Sunjik was Cheol Sunjik, alright. The mood shifted in an instant.
He’d planted the seed: any “proper” representative would back him.
His followers from the Nine Great Clans, Five Families, and Twelve Peaks watched expectantly. Even our acting team looked intrigued now. Eunho’s furrowed brow said it all—the guy’s pitch had real pull, especially for our team’s sharpest mind. But he wouldn’t love the threat to our status.
“Everyone’s opinions... unfair traditions...”
At least he was the most logical one here.
I stared Cheol Sunjik down. Compared to his past-life self, just a few less wrinkles—otherwise identical.
Humans hate loss above all. They scheme endlessly to avoid it, deploying every trick to eliminate risks.
That’s why his words rang true right now—they promised utility.
“Of course, even with the council, your position won’t vanish, Representative. You’ll still make the final call.”
His gaze swept the team.
“And no one on the team needs to step down. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”
Like he’d found a win-win for all. His honeyed words highlighted gains over losses, preying on fragile psyches—making foes feel like they’d maximized mutual benefit. Honor-seekers dream of glory; the greedy, of riches.
“Your decision will reshape the academy for the next century. Future students will thrive in a fairer, brighter world.”
He spoke firmly.
“We await your judgment, Representative.”
Even handing me the choice—clever.
His brain worked just like the old man’s. Make the mark feel empowered, like they’re calling the shots in his intricate game. Pawns think they’re toppling the enemy king.
That’s Cheol Sunjik. Manipulating hearts for max profit, letting foes delude themselves into victory. Survivor of the brutal world where only the craftiest endure.
Schemer Cheol Sunjik.
I scanned the room. His Nine Great Clans crew, Five Families, Twelve Peaks followers. Our team too.
All hanging on my words.
Truly amazing.
Even knowing he’s a con man, his pitch felt reasonable to me.
But here’s the thing. I may be dumb, but my memory’s flawless.
Past-life corpses of comrades fooled by his silver tongue flashed before me. Their vivid deaths made my answer simple.
“No thanks.”
“……”
I remember those unjust ends all too well.
So this time, I won’t go down easy.
His brow creased at my unexpected rebuff.
“Disappointing. I thought you were the most enlightened rep yet.”
Expectant eyes soured to hostility. Some looked ready to bolt and vent.
How stupid can you be? Back him and we all win!
They’d paint me as a selfish grabber.
But insults bounce off those braced for them.
I clapped slowly, surveying the room.
“Alright! Great hearing all that greedy dogshit.”
“Representative Jin...!”
I smirked at Cheol Sunjik.
“Why the hell should I play along with your scheme to steal my spot?”
His mask slipped.
“...You misunderstand. This isn’t about taking positions—”
“How’s it different from the Alliance’s Elder Council and Lord’s Hall?”
Myriad Communications flags issues, Elders deliberate, Lord’s Hall decides. Final say’s with the Lord, but only after Elders agree—otherwise, it’s just a rubber stamp.
“You could slap any pretty label on it—council, committee, whatever.”
His naked ambition was too rich for scorn.
“But you wouldn’t breathe a word if the Twelve Peaks held the rep seat.”
“……”
Cheol Sunjik’s a riot. No friends or foes—just aligned interests. Ma Clan ally if it pays; same-Peaks enemy if not. Pure pragmatism let him plant his sect in the North Sea Alliance.
His faction barely bled in the Great War. Post my death, they’d be a powerhouse there.
I locked eyes with him.
“Know what you call forcing on others what you’d never do yourself?”
“...What?”
“A scam.”
His face crumpled like paper.
“Only con artists treating marks like idiots pull that.”
“...Insulting everyone here?”
Deflecting to pull in the crowd—Yuyunmun’s Flowery Persuasion had nothing on this.
“Insults require honor to lose first.”
I eyed his backers.
“Huashan’s Hasandung. Got in on daddy’s name, but warnings from the main sect for whoring around.”
One from the Nine flinched.
“Jegal’s Baek Jinseong. Dodged jail in the qimenjin fiasco, but blacklisted at home. No promotions ahead.”
Baek paled.
“Jeongdo Council, Baekdo Association—you scraped up everyone without pull. The Peaks guys are just your yes-men.”
His words always tie to self-gain. Guard him most when he offers “your” benefit.
“Even if the council forms, it’ll dance to your tune. ‘Everyone’s voice,’ my ass—you’ll lead it.”
“……”
“And if you wanna wear the ‘academy rep’ badge, shouldn’t you at least ask the students?”
I addressed his self-proclaimed “reps.”
“Any recommendations from students? Elected?”
Silence.
Cold fury welled up.
“Why should students obey orders from useless hacks sitting on their asses?”
Past life, we caught his schemes only after comrades died.
“Responsibility? How? Fired like in Sichuan’s joyride? Jailed?”
Not this time.
“Nah, won’t happen. ‘Students chose it,’ right? No punishment for you. Convenient. The real heat lands on me—the academy rep.”
I sneered.
“Rights without responsibility... Even the ‘rotten incumbents’ you bash look better. At least Nine Clans and Five Families bled for their spots.”
Their faces darkened, lips sealed.
“Is this what your ‘council’ wants? Power without accountability?”
Past life, once bucked his plan on Jegal Cheongi’s advice—pure opposition. Faced Hellfire Ghost Corps head-on... but wiped his unit, save one.
“Try this council in your own sect first. Lord as final decider, warriors form the council. Everyone shares blame.”
“...Leave my sect out. Mind your manners, Representative Jin.”
Back to “Representative Jin.”
“Think my suggestion rude?”
“……”
“Forcing that ‘rude’ idea with your ragtag crew?”
His face blanched.
Just like back then, when I stonewalled him.
That damn nostalgic face.