Chapter 97
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 97
Chapter Title: The Chairman's Wager
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"It's been a while since Father summoned me. Is something good going on?"
After the spar with Shin-hyeok.
Dedicating himself fully to recovery, In-ho finally rose from his sickbed and visited the Pyeongchang-dong mansion at Cheol-ho's call.
He had shown an unsightly defeat to Shin-hyeok, but while recuperating, he shook it off and fell into a pleasant delusion.
'My defeat has made the need for my growth even more urgent, so Father might offer even greater support. He could even pry away what that arrogant Choi Shin-hyeok has and hand it over to me.'
Defeat was certainly a bitter pill, but it could serve as justification for further investment in himself.
Even more, convinced that Cheol-ho could seize Shin-hyeok's possessions and give them to him, In-ho entered the mansion in high spirits.
There, as always, he found Cheol-ho lounging on the living room sofa like a king, waiting for him.
"Father, I'm here."
"Good, you've arrived. Come sit. There's something important we need to discuss."
'...As expected!'
The words "something important" thrilled In-ho inwardly, though he kept it hidden as he quietly took a seat on the sofa beside Cheol-ho.
A shabby seat compared to Cheol-ho's.
It was a device that indirectly displayed Cheol-ho's authority, and every time he sat there, In-ho felt intimidated.
Out in the world, he was known as the Flame King, master of a guild worth tens of trillions—but in front of Cheol-ho, he regressed to his childhood self.
Back to the days of constant scoldings and comparisons from his tiger of a father.
Watching In-ho stiffen rigidly, awaiting his words, Cheol-ho inwardly clicked his tongue.
'Not even as good as my nephew, who's barely turned twenty.'
The memory of his recent private talk with Shin-hyeok made In-ho's demeanor all the more displeasing, but Cheol-ho stayed focused on the purpose of this meeting.
He knew that once In-ho heard what he had to say, his attitude would shift—so he set aside his grievances and cut to the chase.
"You're scooping up Myth Guild shares through the Myeongdong crew, right? How's that going?"
"Ah, Father. About that—"
"What? You thought I wouldn't know?"
"Those Myeongdong bastards all borrowed from me—they're in my debt. You really think they're your men just because they jump at your orders?"
"......"
Cheol-ho's casual jab silenced In-ho, stoking fresh irritation, but he held his patience.
"I'll give you some shares."
"Father! Are you serious?"
"Agh, my ears, you punk!"
"S-Sorry. I was just so shocked..."
"Tsk. Naturally, it won't be free."
"If it's money, I have some—"
"Think I'd snatch pocket change from my own son? I don't need your chump change."
"Then... inheritance?"
"Inheritance? I'm still kicking. No inheritance talk until I'm dead."
"......Then what price must I pay?"
In-ho leaped to his feet in excitement at the promise of shares, but his face darkened upon hearing it wasn't money or inheritance.
He dreaded what this greedy father might demand in return.
But Cheol-ho's next words were shocking.
"It's a gift. Taxes, paperwork—I'll handle it all. Just accept it."
"......!!! W-Well then, how many shares...?"
"Twenty percent."
"Gasp!"
A gift.
An enormous twenty percent.
Half of Cheol-ho's total holdings—In-ho's shock was understandable.
Especially since In-ho himself had scraped together just over twenty percent across decades; it was staggering.
His face flushed red with excitement once more.
"But there's a condition."
"Name it! I'll meet any terms!"
"Fine. Then hold your guild master seat against that punk Shin-hyeok for the rest of the year."
"......Pardon?"
"It's a bet. Shin-hyeok claimed he could yank you from that position in half a year. If he does, the shares are his."
"...!!!"
Cheol-ho dropped the bombshell with a straight face.
In-ho's elation over claiming full control of Myth Guild drained away, leaving his face ashen.
Choi Shin-hyeok.
Again, Shin-hyeok.
His own nephew.
The nephew who'd inflicted an indelible humiliation just days ago was now coveting his Myth Guild.
Rage boiled over.
"Father! How could you! Myth Guild is my company—I've built it over decades!"
Resentment toward Cheol-ho, the clear architect of this mess, erupted as well.
Decades.
Even before awakening as a Player, he'd interned at Myth Guild, sharpening his skills.
After awakening, he joined full-time, proved his worth swiftly, and climbed the ranks.
Even as guild master, he'd poured himself in relentlessly—splashing through filth, shrugging off grime—to grow the guild.
To In-ho, Myth Guild wasn't merely a company; it was like a child.
Handing off one of his own limbs to the nephew who'd shamed him? His reaction was inevitable.
Yet Cheol-ho met In-ho's outburst with icy calm.
"Your company? Why the hell is it yours, punk?"
"Pardon?"
"Not a single penny of yours built it. Player salaries? All from my pocket. Your guild master paychecks in the hundreds of millions each month? My money. Consumables, materials, gear, training grounds, maintenance facilities—all on my dime. Let me ask again: Is Myth Guild truly yours?"
"......"
A razor-sharp truth.
The scene fit the phrase perfectly.
In-ho fell silent amid his fury and grievance, but Cheol-ho pressed on.
"Fine, I'll credit your effort and talent for getting you there. But so what? I could find talents like you anytime. Why'd you become the Flame King? One reason: you're my son. I wouldn't dump hundreds of billions on some random outsider!"
"F-Father."
"Shut it, you fool. Your nephew nods along and ups the ante, while you go blind over something that isn't even yours—can't see two steps ahead. Tsk, tsk."
"......I'm sorry."
"So, bet or no? If not, Shin-hyeok wins by default—hand over the shares."
"N-No way! I'll... I'll do it!"
The cutting truth that In-ho's Flame King status stemmed solely from being his son.
Compounded by the threat of defaulting the shares to Shin-hyeok if he refused—the bet was accepted in panic.
In truth, the bet required little action from In-ho.
Until Shin-hyeok made his move.
Yet a chilling sensation crept up his back, as if a tiger—no, a monster—pursued him.
A bone-deep chill.
Cold sweat trickled down his spine.
In-ho desperately clutched Cheol-ho's hand.
"Father, at least secure me items from Shin-hyeok's Myth Workshop or alchemy workshop. You could make it happen, right?"
"Why should I? This is your contest with Shin-hyeok. Want them? Get 'em yourself."
"Urgh..."
He'd hoped to leverage Cheol-ho for goods from Shin-hyeok's workshops, but got a cold rebuff.
With his final fallback crumbling, In-ho stumbled out of the Pyeongchang-dong mansion in a daze.
Cheol-ho shook his head at his son departing without a farewell.
"That one's tapped out too."
He was his son, talented enough to warrant investment.
Until now, returns had exceeded costs—but it seemed the well had run dry.
Musing thus, Cheol-ho tapped the mahogany table with his fingertips.
"Like the Yangtze's waves shoving the old downstream, it's about time new faces emerged."
Yi Hwang, the Three Emperors, the Five Kings.
Those called the Heaven Beyond Heaven had feasted far too long.
New stars to threaten them wouldn't be amiss.
And Cheol-ho had a rough idea who they were.
At least one, for certain.
"Manager Hong. Prepare an investment plan for All Mighty Guild."
"Yes, Chairman."
Choi Shin-hyeok.
His grandson.
Just as he'd backed In-ho into the Flame King of the Heaven Beyond Heaven, now he'd mold Shin-hyeok the same way.
Cheol-ho let out a smirk.
Bang!
The luxury sedan's door slammed shut like it was shattering.
It actually had.
The bulletproof window spiderwebbed from the impact, and the door itself was half-wrecked, dangling in tatters.
Physical prowess befitting the pinnacle of the Player world—a monstrous display.
The waiting secretary and driver froze solid, but In-ho paid them no mind.
No true lord frets over a servant's feelings.
To him, they weren't even people.
"Drive to the Magic Tower."
"Yes, sir."
In-ho wasn't just Myth Guild's master; he oversaw a slew of mid-sized and smaller firms too.
All producing or harvesting Player-related goods and materials—piles of approvals awaited his sign-off.
Yet the secretary said nothing, merely signaling the driver.
Vroooom!
The luxury sedan peeled out, dragging its rag of a door—an absurd sight, utterly ignored by its rear-seat passenger.
"......I have to absorb it faster. Even a little faster. That's the only way... the only way to protect what's mine."
Legs jittering like a drug fiend's, gnawing his manicured nails, bloodshot eyes muttering to himself—the sedan barreled toward the Korean Magic Tower branch without pause.