Chapter 133
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 133
Chapter Title: A Better World
Creeak.
Dust stirred by the door glittered in the light streaming through the window.
Iron Mask scanned the cabin's interior, moving only his eyes.
A soot-stained fireplace, walls of wood and stone.
The single table, chair, and bed were all made of wood.
On the bed, long strips of dried bark were bundled together, giving it the look of an animal's den.
There was no sign of human life.
Instead, it looked as though it was being maintained.
And until very recently, at that.
Clank, creak.
As he stepped inside, the wooden floorboards groaned and sank under his weight.
‘Why would my father… in a place like this…’
One's mission and lifelong ambition were not things to be mentioned lightly.
And yet, the letter had said to come here if he wanted to fulfill his father's mission and ambition.
Creek, creak.
Reaching the table, Iron Mask once again surveyed the cabin's interior.
He couldn't pinpoint the reason, but the place felt unpleasant.
A place he shouldn't have come to.
A place that felt unsettling and ominous.
That feeling emanated faintly from the entire cabin.
Because it was an old house?
The cabin certainly looked old. But there was something else here, something more.
Swish.
It was the moment Iron Mask unconsciously stroked the tabletop.
Creak.
A noise came from the floor beneath the table.
It was louder than the sound of his footsteps.
The kind of sound that could only be made if the space below was empty.
Scraape.
Shoving the table aside, Iron Mask inserted his fingers into a groove between the floorboards and lifted.
Creeeaak.
The floor, which had looked perfectly ordinary, opened like a manhole cover, revealing a staircase leading down.
After a brief hesitation, Iron Mask began to descend the stairs.
Flick, flick, flick.
This was an island that seemed unlikely to have electricity.
A cabin that seemed unlikely to have any wiring.
Yet, as if observing Iron Mask, lights switched on one by one above his head, illuminating the path below.
The stairs and walls were a stark, almost pallid white, which only made them more bizarre.
‘Who the hell are these people?’
This underground staircase and its lighting were not old.
They had inefficiently constructed such a facility while leaving the old cabin intact.
‘Why?’
He couldn't understand why they had preserved this dilapidated cabin instead of tearing it down, or why they had built such a facility on this remote island.
At the end of the long staircase, Iron Mask arrived in a large space.
It was much larger than he had expected.
Large enough to fit four dump trucks with room to spare.
The interior was also blindingly white, with only two things that were pitch black.
An Asian man in a black suit.
The other was a white-haired Caucasian man, impeccably dressed in a black tuxedo.
They sat facing each other at a large round table. Iron Mask walked toward them.
Shuffle, shuffle.
A young, androgynous-looking person in a white dress approached with a tray and placed three glasses on the round table.
One in front of each man, and one at an empty seat.
It seemed that was Iron Mask's place.
“Sit.”
The elderly man in the tuxedo spoke, and Iron Mask sat down, his gaze fixed on him.
“Are you the one who sent the letter?”
The old man raised his glass, wet his lips, and shook his head.
“No, it wasn't I who sent it. It was sent by the one who directs all things.”
Iron Mask glanced at the Asian man, then covered his glass with his palm.
Crack!
Crushing the glass in his hand, Iron Mask reached for the old man.
Snatch!
He grabbed the man by the collar, pulled him close, and glared at him with upturned eyes.
“Bring him out. I won't speak with a lackey.”
“Hmm?”
A faint smile spread across the old man's lips, and Iron Mask clenched his fist. Just as he was about to swing his fist and shatter the man's face,
“You run your mouth without knowing a thing.”
The silent Asian man spat out a voice laced with hostility.
Iron Mask released the old man's collar and shifted his gaze to him.
Thump.
Immediately after, the Asian man scowled and slammed his fist on the round table.
“This is the Round Table, of all places. Show some respect.”
The old man then raised a hand to quiet the Asian man.
“He is not yet one of us. He wouldn't know what this place is, so we must be understanding.”
The Asian man let out a groan, his lips twisting as he shot a sharp glare at Iron Mask.
“This man is your godfather.”
“Godfather?”
“He's the one who provided everything related to your life, the foundation that allows you to operate so freely. He was also deeply connected to your father. How dare you act this way?”
Iron Mask's gaze shifted to the old man.
He looked a little younger than his father.
The look he gave him was benevolent and gentle.
Like he was looking at a friend's child.
And for that reason, it was awkward and uncomfortable.
“Do you know how my father died?”
“I know it well. He was sincere and steadfast, but he always held those around him to a high standard.”
“Are you saying he got what he deserved?”
“I believe your father passed it down. As spring follows winter, as the tides ebb and flow, as the sun and moon take their turns.”
His tone was not one of rebuke or sarcasm.
It was as if he was simply accepting Iron Mask as he was, and because of that, he felt a sense of displeasure and strangeness.
“Sit.”
Iron Mask looked from the old man to the Asian man and back before sitting at the round table.
“You must have many questions. Who we are, why we called you here.”
The old man's wrinkled, gaunt finger pointed at Iron Mask.
“You recently attacked a city in the United States. To complete a certain drug.”
That was half true.
But it was also half false.
Attacking Kanghyeok had been Iron Mask's true objective. The drug was merely a means to control his men and give them a cause.
“We call that drug the Elixir. Completing it was your father's destiny.”
“That poison?”
He scoffed, finding it absurd that a drug that killed people so horribly was given a name that meant it could heal all things.
“It is undeniably the Elixir. The one and only thing that will heal all.”
Staring into the man's convinced eyes, Iron Mask slowly parted his lips.
“Are you the leader?”
The thought occurred to him that "godfather" was just a title, and this man was, in fact, the real power behind everything.
“I am merely His representative. But do not be mistaken.”
“About what?”
“I hold this position not because my rank is high, but simply because it is my turn. Someday, you too may serve as a representative, just as I do.”
The old man stroked the round table and added, with the subtle manner of a snake or a demon,
“If you choose to join us, that is.”
Iron Mask did not answer immediately.
He felt that these people were dangerous, but at the same time, a deep curiosity stirred within him.
Who were they, and what were they working toward?
And what would he gain by joining them?
The old man looked Iron Mask up and down as he remained silent, then spoke.
“You are in a difficult state. So much so that you stole an item from a U.S. military base to aid your mobility.”
Iron Mask's lips twisted as he looked at the old man, who was even aware of his secret operations.
“Did you plant a spy among my subordinates?”
“No, we simply know. We are everywhere. More importantly, I will help you obtain something more advanced than that.”
“Nonsense.”
It was something even the U.S. military had not perfected.
Iron Mask's subordinates were trying to find ways to improve it through reverse engineering, but it was going to take a long time.
“You're right. It would be difficult for me. But that man can do it.”
Iron Mask's gaze shifted to the Asian man in the black suit.
At that moment, the old man's voice continued from behind him.
“I also know that you are hunting a man in a black suit. Allow me to introduce you. This man is an executive from the organization he belongs to.”
Iron Mask froze as if struck by lightning.
Why hadn't he realized it?
This Asian man was also wearing a black suit.
Perhaps it was because he didn't look like a fighter.
But what if, as the old man said, he was an executive of an organization connected to Kanghyeok?
Their frightening aspect wasn't limited to their combat prowess.
Their equipment defied common sense.
Their technology surpassed Iron Mask's to the point where he had to deploy a drone just to temporarily blind their eyes.
“Ahem.”
The Asian man, who had been put in a somewhat difficult position by Iron Mask's attack on the city with the safe house, shot him a displeased look.
Gary Chang, Team Leader of The Company's External Cooperation Department.
The very person who had clashed with William.
“You've made things very difficult for us.”
Gary Chang spoke as if spitting out the words at Iron Mask.
“Do you have any idea how much trouble the mess you made has caused? We were sweating bullets cleaning it up.”
“Cleaned it up? What are you talking about?”
“Your helicopter was being tracked by us. We altered the data midway, but it's only a matter of time. Move your base.”
It sounded as if The Company's and Gary Chang's intentions were in conflict.
Iron Mask sent a look to the old man, demanding an explanation.
“Not all of the executives, but a significant number of them share our cause. This man is certainly one of us, so rest assured.”
“What is your identity? Who are you people?”
“If you wish to know, then say it. That you will join us. That is all it takes.”
“…Just for that?”
“Think of it as your father's inheritance.”
It sounded ironic.
His father had despised, detested, and denied everything about him since he was Lento.
To call it that man's inheritance.
It sounded even more ironic because he had killed his father with his own hands.
But he had already taken his father's wealth, his men, and even his name.
There was nothing particularly novel about succeeding his father's position in this organization.
“I want something.”
“Speak.”
“The Asian man in the suit. I want information on him.”
“Kanghyeok.”
Gary Chang tossed out Kanghyeok's name, and Iron Mask's gaze snapped to him.
“You know him.”
“Everything about him. But no more than this.”
The atmosphere made it clear: if he wanted to hear more, he had to decide whether to join them or walk away.
After a long silence, Iron Mask nodded.
“I'll join.”
“Welcome. Though they are not here, everyone will welcome you.”
“Don't I need approval from your leader?”
“I told you I am his representative. And he is already pleased.”
“Hmph.”
“Then, let me tell you about us.”
The old man wet his lips with the liquid in his glass.
Then he lifted his wrinkled eyes toward the ceiling of the cabin above.
“It all began here, in this place. Two hundred years ago, a man achieved enlightenment here, and those who agreed with him gradually grew in number, forming a group. Now, we have a greater influence on the world than anything you know.”
It sounded like the delusional ramblings of a conspiracy theorist.
But he couldn't simply dismiss it, not with the aura this old man exuded, nor with Gary Chang being a member of The Company.
There were only two of them before him.
But he had a feeling that the organization they belonged to was much, much larger.
It was then.
“We have but one goal. To create a better world. That is our only hope.”
Twelve years from now.
The old man, a member of the organization that would destroy the world, spoke with utter sincerity.