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Chapter 48

“So this ends the pursuit of the Pungyang Cho Clan. All this hell because of one servant.”

On the way back after severing Gu Jeong-hyeok’s neck.

Stretching my arms, a weight seemed to lift off my chest. For the first time in days, I felt like I could fly.

The people from Pyeong-un Tavern, and even the swordsmen from the Sal Group Faction—

The number of people under my command was growing, and managing them properly meant one thing:

Money.

An endless mountain of expenses.

Could the casino’s profit really hold up?

Or would I have to… look elsewhere?

The more I thought about it, the messier my head became.

‘First, I need to recruit more people. Then decide where to invest first. But still…’

These were not things that could be handled overnight like before.

It would take at least five to ten years, moving step by step, slowly and carefully.

Just as that thought passed my mind—

“Young Master.”

As I was walking toward the car, Taewoong suddenly stepped in front of me.

And just then, Moo-yeong drew his sword and stepped forward.

Only after seeing his reaction did I notice it too—something was wrong.

“……”

A person.

I had no idea when or where they had appeared from.

They wore a red robe patterned in the five colors of the cardinal directions, a crimson gokkal hat,

and a mask covering their face, decorated with jingling bells that shimmered faintly with light.

Clothes like that…

“A shaman?”

The moment I muttered that, recognizing the outfit the intruder wore—

Thwack—!

The figure suddenly puffed up like an enraged owl and lunged straight toward me without a word.

“An ambush?!”

“I’ll stop him! Senior, protect the Young Master—!”

Judging the speed instantly, Moo-yeong lowered his stance and intercepted the attacker.

The power radiating from Moo-yeong’s artificial body surged, far surpassing the speed of his charging opponent.

His right arm—made entirely of synthetic muscle and titanium bone—swung his blade toward the attacker’s neck in an instant.

Pachut—!

“?!”

A strange, high-pitched interference sound rang out—

And Moo-yeong’s mechanical arm twisted grotesquely, bending in an impossible direction.

Clang—!

He tried to recover by twisting his blade path into a defensive stance,

But the attack had already gone off-balance.

The assailant took advantage of the opening, kicking Moo-yeong square in the chest and sending him airborne.

“It’s dangerous, Young Master! Behind me!”

The instant Moo-yeong’s attack failed, Taewoong stepped in front of me, activating his artificial limbs to full power.

“No… don’t.”

But I couldn’t take Taewoong’s advice to flee.

Because at that same moment—

I realized exactly what the attacker had done to disable Moo-yeong’s strike.

Electronic circuit interference.

That shaman-like bastard had hacked Moo-yeong’s right arm, forcing it to shut down mid-swing.

“Turn off your artificial system! Right now, that thing—!”

“Khh—?!”

Before I could even finish shouting, a similar electromagnetic wave wrapped around Taewoong’s arms.

Both of his mechanical limbs froze in place.

The dead weight of the powered limbs crashed down on him.

The greatest weakness of a warrior who bore artificial limbs—

And this mysterious shaman had struck precisely there.

‘That’s no ordinary hacking device or electronic warfare tool…’

A Grade-1 artificial body is a masterpiece of bio-mechanical engineering—

Each component, each neural interface, is protected by layers of encrypted security modules.

And yet, this bastard had hacked it? In mere seconds?

Even the Bunetal I encountered in Hahoe couldn’t pull off something like that.

To hack an artificial body and shut it down completely—

There’s only one kind of being capable of that.

Thud—!

In the blink of an eye, the masked attacker tore through my two bodyguards and came to a halt right in front of me.

The masked figure tilted its head slightly, the wooden mask creaking faintly with each movement—

As if trying to see through me,

As if searching for something within me.

“Who are you?”

I ground my teeth as I spoke.

There was no deeper intent behind the question—

I genuinely didn’t know who this person was.

‘Kim Hyunwoo is busy dealing with the civil war, and every bastard who held a grudge against me… I just finished cutting them down. There shouldn’t be anyone left who’d dare attack me now.’

Frowning, I was lost in that tangled web of thoughts when—

The stranger slowly lifted a hand toward my face.

Srrk—

Their fingers brushed my cheek, as if confirming something, a cautious, almost reverent touch.

“…?”

“……”

There was no hostility in that motion—none at all.

For a moment, the masked figure studied my face in silence, then tilted its head again in that same eerie, puppet-like motion.

And then—

Whoosh—!

With a sudden leap, the intruder vanished into the night, disappearing as abruptly as they had appeared.

I immediately activated my visual interface to record their features—

But it was useless.

Ever since Moo-yeong’s right arm had been disabled, none of my electronic systems had been responding.

Thud—!

“Young Master, are you all right?!”

My legs gave out beneath me, the shock finally catching up.

Moo-yeong and Taewoong, their artificial systems rebooted, came rushing toward me pale-faced.

“I’m fine. There’s no problem.”

“But, Young Master—your face…!”

“Huh? My face?”

Following Moo-yeong’s alarmed shout, I touched my cheek.

A small drop of blood.

Looking closer, I found a barely visible cut—so fine I might not have noticed if not for the warmth of the blood.

‘What the hell… was that?’

A sudden ambush.

A technique that hacked a Grade-1 artificial body in seconds—an impossible feat.

And yet, all that, only to leave me with a tiny scratch before vanishing?

Chik. Chi-chik.

As I wrestled with that thought, static burst through the earpiece in my communicator.

—Young Master? Young Master! Please answer me, quickly!

It was the Tavern mistress, her voice trembling with panic.

I pushed aside the confusion fogging my mind and replied,

“I’m here. What’s going on?”

—It’s an emergency. Right now…!

Her next words hit me like a thunderclap.

—Right now, at the casino—

Kim Junghun! The head of the Andong Kim Clan has arrived!

* * *

“Young Master! Over here!”

When I stepped off the helicopter at the casino, the Tavern mistress was waiting for me, her expression taut with anxiety as she pointed toward something.

The elevator leading to the VIP room—

The deepest, most restricted part of the casino.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside.

There, seated comfortably in one of the resting chairs, sipping tea as if he owned the world, was Kim Junghun.

“I… I didn’t expect the honorable head of house to grace us with his presence here. To what do we owe this… visit?”

The nobles in the room, sensing the presence of the Head of the Andong Kim Clan himself, were reduced to trembling mutts, fawning for approval.

And then his cold gaze shifted slightly—toward me.

“I have business with that child. Would you all excuse us?”

“Y-Yes, of course!”

“Ah, we were just about to take our leave…”

The moment he finished speaking, the nobles scattered in a panic, fleeing the VIP room like receding waves.

All that money and influence I’d spent gathering those people—

Watching them scurry away made my already tangled thoughts throb with irritation.

But Kim Junghun didn’t spare them even a glance. His eyes were fixed on me.

“It’s an honor to see you, Clan Head.”

“Mm.”

As an illegitimate son, I wasn’t permitted to call him Father.

He nodded faintly in acknowledgment, as if my courtesy barely satisfied the rules of etiquette.

“I saw the servants you keep. Their manners toward guests were impressive. For commoners of such low birth, they’re remarkably well trained.”

“Your praise humbles me.”

Of course they were.

Proper etiquette was essential when dealing with the noble class—

And Tavern mistress, as the casino’s manager, had personally drilled that lesson into them.

But then Kim Junghun’s tone cooled further.

“And yet… those others.”

He took another sip of his tea, gaze falling upon the nobles who had just fled in disgrace.

“To think that nobles, who should be the moral backbone of Joseon, are instead wasting their lives gambling in dens like this.”

I stayed silent.

“Such filthy swine—are these truly the nobles who claim to bear the fate of our nation?”

It was his summary judgment of the casino’s guests.

And in truth, I couldn’t blame him.

Kim Junghun—

A monster intoxicated with power, yet a man whose life embodied ritual and discipline.

A paragon of the Confucian ideal—corrupt in ambition but spotless in manner.

For someone like him to see fellow nobles reduced to gamblers…

Disgust was the only natural response.

Then his gaze shifted again.

“And you, Kim Chang-woon.”

“Yes.”

His expression remained unreadable.

“A scion of a noble house…

And yet here you are, wallowing among pigs, fattening yourself on their dirty money?”

It was a voice that could be taken as a rebuke or contempt.

But more than either—it carried something colder.

A suffocating indifference.

Even after dying once and clawing my way back, that same look still bound my throat like an invisible chain.

A “member of the family”? What a joke.

He only called me that because protocol required it.

What he truly felt toward me was nothing but utter apathy.

Still, I swallowed the bile rising in my chest and forced a calm smile.

“Even if a man is born from a filthy sow, wealth is still wealth, is it not?”

Behind the mask of composure, my voice remained steady.

“If that wealth can fund the family’s affairs, then surely, there’s no reason to reject it.”

“……Hm.”

He didn’t confirm or deny.

He simply looked at me with faint curiosity, as though observing a tool that had unexpectedly proven useful.

Then—

“I’ll ask just to confirm.”

His tone sharpened.

“Were you the one who killed Cho Seong-hwan?”

****

Whoooooosh—

Deep beneath the city of Hanseong,

Where the air was thick with smog and black smoke,

The masked intruder stood between crumbling high-rises, slowly removing the mask from their face.

Beep—

[Personality Upload Terminated]

[Spirit Descent Code: “Cheok Jun-gyeong” — Offline]

[Original Persona Restoring... Complete]

With a faint hiss, the mask detached and fell away.

Beneath it appeared the wrinkled face of an old man.

“Blood composition?”

The question left his lips,

And an instant later, a holographic screen lit up before his eyes.

[Blood Analysis Complete: Genetic Match Rate — 99%]

“So it’s confirmed.”

The old man murmured, sinking into a nearby chair with a long sigh.

When he’d first seen that face, he hadn’t wanted to believe it.

But with evidence this precise, denial was impossible.

And then there was that faint amethyst hue gleaming within those dark pupils…

“Yangban-tal… The old man’s been giddy for days, and now I finally see why.”

He smirked faintly.

“Though I suspect his joy isn’t for the same reason as mine.”

Jzzzt—

As he rose to his feet, the lights of the entire skyscraper around him flickered out one by one, until the world was swallowed in total darkness.

But only for a moment.

All around him, figures began to emerge from the shadows— countless silhouettes, draped in vibrant ritual robes, the faint jingling of bells echoing through the air.

Maskless, faceless shamans gathered before him.

“It’s certain. The blood, the eyes, the aura.”

Their garments shimmered with every subtle motion—

Mirroring the colors and bells of the elder’s own attire.

Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of shaman stood waiting in reverent silence.

And then, in a voice filled with something between awe and dread—

“That child… was born from Chang-hwa’s womb.”

---The End Of The Chapter---

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