Chapter 733

It had been a while since my body became capable of enduring three days and nights without rest, but being able to sleep a full night was still a blessing.

Especially when I woke up refreshed in a place where I could be with my precious family.

“There’s no place like home.”

As I spoke cheerfully and sat down, Team Leader Choi Minwoo, sitting across the large dining table, stared at me with a disgruntled look.

“This is my house, though.”

“Is that what matters right now?”

“It’s not trivial. It’s a matter of ownership.”

“So a guy without a house isn’t allowed to live comfortably?”

“Anyone listening would think you really don’t have a house or money.”

As if that could be true.

I had a house in my name now, and more money than I could ever spend.

But even with trillions of won sitting in my account, it wasn’t easy to find a place safer than this for me and my family.

‘No, at least in Korea, there’s nowhere like this. On the surface it’s just a massive mansion, but in reality it’s an impregnable fortress wrapped in layers of protective magic. On top of that, it’s still known to the public as Cheon Tae-min’s mansion, so its symbolic value surpasses even the Blue House. With all the eyes on it, breaking in is nearly impossible, and even if an S-class Hunter forced their way in, we’d still buy enough time. For someone like me, who puts my family’s safety first, it’s the perfect place.’

Of course, Choi Minwoo—who’d suddenly ended up living with me—might not see it the same way.

“Now that I think about it, I feel a bit shameless. Should I start paying rent this month?”

“If you pay, I’ll take it. Ten million won per person. Forty million a month sounds appropriate.”

I stared out the window at the sunlight pouring in and muttered,

“Ah, the weather’s nice. And why is it so expensive? And you even did the math wrong.”

“My calculations are always accurate.”

“What are you talking about? Ten million per person means thirty million, not forty million. How long has it been since your father passed away?”

“There’s one more person, isn’t there?”

No sooner had Choi Minwoo finished than a blond foreigner swaggered in from the end of the hallway and dropped into a chair.

“Food.”

This bastard wasn’t a gentleman either. Forget everything else—first thing he says after getting up and seeing my face is that.

“Are you getting it yourself, or do you want to get hit first and then get it?”

Skeleton King considered it carefully, then replied,

“I shall get it myself.”

“Good choice. Bring mine while you’re at it.”

“And don’t forget the soup. You’re dead if you do.”

One of the biggest advantages of this mansion is that the AI installed in the kitchen is always preparing hot meals.

A moment later, Skeleton King grumbled as he brought my meal, and Choi Minwoo watched intently while I tore into the yukgaejang.

“Jin Taekyung, you always eat well.”

“I’m not a machine. I need to eat to live.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah. For the first time in a while. I think I passed out the moment I lay down.”

Choi Minwoo nodded as if he’d expected it.

“That’s probably why you didn’t answer the phone.”

“Phone?”

“There were calls from several places last night. Haven’t you checked yet?”

“Huh?”

Only then did I look at my phone.

It had been vibrating so much I’d switched it to silent, and now there were over a hundred missed calls and messages piled up from last night until this morning.

‘What is all this?’

The names mixed in were too familiar—and too heavy—to dismiss as ads or spam.

Prince Felix of England, whom I’d bonded with during the Arch Lich subjugation. S-class Hunter Pai Chen. Chuck Hagel of the United States, whom I’d fought alongside while crushing a terrorist organization just two weeks ago. Even Magic Johnson, whose name had become indispensable at this point.

And it didn’t stop there.

President Baek Hanseong, the U.S. President Doramp Junior—whom I’d met during the Pentagon invitation—and Chinese President Xiao Yang were all on the list as well.

“It was a long night. Longer than I expected.”

Choi Minwoo, tipping his coffee cup with a tired expression, continued.

“And thanks to that, I was able to hear quite a bit of news.”

“News?”

“Yes. In particular, President Xiao Yang gave me some very interesting information.”

Tap, tap.

As Choi Minwoo tapped the tablet in front of him with long fingers, a hologram rose above the screen and projected dozens of images.

Flash.

“…This is.”

I frowned and set my spoon down as the image sharpened into focus.

No matter how strong my stomach is, and no matter how used I am to cruelty, I can’t keep eating while looking at this.

“What are these bodies?”

“Until last night, they were prisoners who were alive and well in the Beijing Special Detention Center. And among them are faces you know.”

“People I know?”

Choi Minwoo answered by lifting a hand.

The scattered images drifted away like snowflakes, leaving only one enlarged in the air.

“Do you recognize him now?”

I didn’t answer. I just stared at the file.

The face of the middle-aged man lying peacefully, as if in deep sleep, was unmistakably familiar.

And before I could recall his name fully, Skeleton King spoke first.

“That human. His name was probably… Wu Xue Ming? Some weird name like that.”

He smirked at our stares.

“Huhu. You underestimate this body’s information power. Unlike you lazy lot, I devoted myself to my smartphone, even cutting down on sleep.”

“You couldn’t sleep, could you? You’re already dead anyway.”

Skeleton King wilted at my jab and started poking at his yukgaejang. Choi Minwoo gave a small nod and spoke.

“Former Premier of the State Council of the People’s Republic of China. Member of the Standing Committee of the Central Political Bureau.”

The rest clicked into place, and I finished for him.

“That guy who teamed up with Lee Jeong-ryong to kill me. Wu Heixing’s father.”

“That’s right. In fact, he was the head of the Crown Prince faction—virtually second-in-command in China—and Xiao Yang’s biggest political rival. Wu Xue Ming.”

There was no way I wouldn’t know him.

After the Arch Lich subjugation, I learned even more when Wu Xue Ming raised questions about his son’s death.

One of the biggest reasons Wu Heixing had gotten away with all kinds of problems in the first place was because the Wu clan was one of the most prestigious families in China.

But—

“Didn’t Wu Xue Ming get exposed for corruption and get hit by backlash? Last I saw, he was waiting for trial.”

“That’s right. President Xiao Yang didn’t miss the opportunity, and most of the Crown Prince faction—including Wu Xue Ming—was imprisoned.”

“But Wu Xue Ming suddenly died?”

“Wu Xue Ming is still middle-aged, and he’s been chugging potions like water for decades for his health. The cause of death is listed as sudden cardiac arrest, but it’s impossible for him and around fifty relatives to die the same way on the same day.”

“Relatives? Then the pictures from earlier…”

“According to President Xiao, they’re all members of the Wu family. Some of them were children.”

Extermination of the family.

A phrase I’d only ever heard in Murim sent a chill down my spine.

At the same time, a terrifying thought flashed through my mind.

“Choi Minwoo. Then could it be—”

But before I could finish, Choi Minwoo shook his head.

“It wasn’t President Xiao’s doing. If anything, he would’ve wanted to appease Wu Xue Ming more than anyone.”

Appease him. Appeasement.

Wu Xue Ming had been Xiao Yang’s strongest political rival. Now that he’d already been driven into an irreversible position, there was no need to kill him—but there was no reason to keep him alive either.

So why appease him?

What did Wu Xue Ming have?

The already-collapsed remnants of the Crown Prince faction? Or the massive wealth about to be seized?

I rolled the word around in my head, and the answer surfaced.

“…The Mana Cultivation Method.”

At the word that came out like a groan, Skeleton King blinked, and Choi Minwoo replied in a subdued voice.

“Yes. President Xiao was trying to appease him to obtain the Mana Cultivation Method that made Wu Heixing an S-class Hunter.”

A hunter who reaches S-class eventually develops a unique training method of their own.

But Wu Heixing was different. He had already learned a Mana Cultivation Method passed down through his family, and after his death and Wu Xue Ming’s downfall, I stopped paying attention to it.

‘But last night, Wu Xue Ming and all his relatives died.’

I didn’t care what Xiao Yang intended to do with the Mana Cultivation Method.

What mattered was that the appeasement failed because the Wu family was wiped out, and who had done it.

And I already knew the answer.

“Odin Guild, huh.”

A dry voice—so unfamiliar it didn’t even sound like mine—slipped out.

Choi Minwoo turned the cold coffee cup in his hand.

“That’s the most likely scenario.”

“According to President Xiao Yang, Wu Xue Ming had no other choice and seemed willing to accept the appeasement. If he didn’t hand over the Mana Cultivation Method, he’d be facing at least life imprisonment, if not death. But…”

Choi Minwoo trailed off and bit his lip.

“Someone else wouldn’t have wanted that.”

My blood went cold.

They moved faster, and more brutally, than I’d expected.

‘Even so… extermination of the family.’

I looked at the hologram still floating in the air. Women, children, the elderly—faces locked in a sleep they would never wake from.

Just because they were born Wu, they were erased to prevent a Mana Cultivation Method from ever leaking.

Or—

‘Is this a reply to what happened last night?’

Thoughts swirled at the tip of my tongue, then scattered.

I stared at the dead in silence, then suddenly spoke.

“Choi Minwoo.”

“Yes. Tell me.”

“Want to go grab coffee with me when you have time?”

“I don’t mind, but why all of a sudden—”

“Well. Was it Paris?”

“Pardon?”

I continued calmly, facing Choi Minwoo’s puzzled expression.

“Odin Guild. I want to see the face of the one in charge there.”