Chapter 730

Knock. Knock.

Every eye turned toward the door.

Even the janitors at Ares Guild knew the entire leadership was in the conference room discussing important business. For someone to knock now, there were only two possibilities: the matter was just as important, or they’d already written their resignation letter.

Go Jun would have started swearing. Their new City Lord, though, didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow, even with the meeting finally going his way.

“Come in.”

Click.

A middle-aged man appeared in the half-open doorway. The Chief Secretary approached Choi Minwoo and bowed.

“I’m sorry to interrupt the meeting, Vice Guild Master.”

“That’s all right,” Choi said calmly. “If you have a good reason.”

The Chief Secretary swallowed. He hadn’t worked for Choi long, but he already knew his employer was quick to reward good work and punish mistakes. He also knew the report sent up from the lobby’s Security Team a minute ago was beyond his authority to handle.

“An important guest has arrived.”

He held out a trembling hand.

Choi’s expression grew grave as he looked at what the secretary had brought him.

This is…

Recognition brought a rush of thoughts, but he didn’t hesitate for long.

“Where is the guest?”

“Still in the lobby…”

“Show them to my private office. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Chief Secretary answered as if he’d been waiting for exactly that instruction, then left. Choi turned back to the seated executives.

“I think we’ve covered the urgent matters. What do you all think?”

“Pardon?”

“Vice Guild Master, are you saying…?”

“If you’ll excuse me, I think we should end today’s meeting here.”

Several executives stared at him in disbelief.

This was too much. However important the guest might be, how could he end a meeting attended by every overseas Branch Leader just like that?

Scrape.

“Vice Guild Master!”

One executive found the courage to leap to his feet.

Bang!

The sudden crash swallowed his voice.

Jin Taekyung lifted his hand from the alloy table, leaving a palm print in it.

“What, did they lay eggs? Why do these damn bugs keep flying around? Do we need to gut this conference room again?”

“……!”

“Oh, sorry. Go on with what you were saying. Vice Guild Master, where were you?”

The lone standing executive looked at Choi, his face stiff.

“Since things have turned out this way, I’d like to say something.”

His voice carried the determination not to back down this time. Several executives’ eyes gleamed, and Choi Minwoo calmly nodded.

“Yes, go ahead.”

“Then may I leave early?”

“…….”

“It’s my wedding anniversary today…”

The others gave their colleague flat looks.

He’d been divorced for three years.

The Team Leader Choi I knew was a reasonable man.

Even when he had the power to crush someone, he knew when to ease off. He preferred to settle things as calmly and amicably as possible.

Which meant he wouldn’t dismiss dozens of executives with a few words over just anything.

That made me even more curious about the guest who had shown up so suddenly.

Ding.

“It was because of them, right? This important guest?”

I asked as soon as the private elevator doors closed.

“Half and half. I called the executives together to reassure them. There was never any room for trouble to begin with.”

“True. Most of the ones still around are on your side.”

“Even if someone had complaints, there was no reason for the Guild to oppose the publicization plan.”

“Because it also suggests that Cheon Tae… no, that your maternal grandfather is still going strong, Team Leader Choi. Right?”

“Yes. The reason Ares Guild hasn’t enjoyed its former standing is my maternal grandfather’s absence. In that sense, Mr. Jin’s proposal to use his fame was the best option for all of us.”

Cheon Taemin’s very existence was practically a cheat code in this world.

His name alone could command the attention of the entire world and send the hyenas lurking in the shadows, waiting for an opening, backing away.

Just like…

Yeah. Like the Martial God.

The thought came to me and hovered on the tip of my tongue, then faded. Team Leader Choi spoke again, his voice low.

“But unlike the Ares Guild executives, someone else can’t have been pleased by the news.”

“Someone else?”

He handed me something.

“The owner of this business card.”

Ding.

The elevator doors opened. We kept talking as we crossed a corridor that had been cleared on his orders.

“A business card? This?”

I frowned at the thing in my hand.

It was the size and shape of a business card, but could you really call it one? The platinum-colored surface gleamed, yet it bore no name, no title—not even a phone number.

The only thing I could guess was that its owner was an unimaginably wealthy magnate.

“This is heavier than I expected. Feels like it might actually be platinum. Are we meeting Middle Eastern royalty?”

“If that were the case, I would have finished the meeting and come.”

“Then who?”

“Look closely at the edge.”

I examined the card again. Only then did I notice the two birds engraved into it, one on each side.

This is…

“Do you know what kind of birds they are?”

“No idea.”

“Ravens.”

“Ravens?”

“Huginn and Muninn, to be precise.”

“What, the ravens have names? Aren’t they just ravens?”

“Someone without an interest in the subject might not know. They’re creatures from mythology.”

“Mythology?”

“Ancient Norse mythology.”

Step. Step.

Our footsteps sounded unusually loud. As the office door drew nearer, Team Leader Choi continued.

“Huginn and Muninn are the two ravens associated with a god from those myths.”

“Which god?”

“Odin.”

“……!”

“You’ve heard that name plenty of times, haven’t you?”

After a moment, I nodded.

Huginn and Muninn were new to me. Odin was another matter.

Oh, yeah. Another matter entirely.

Not just because he was a god everyone had heard of, or a character from the superhero movies I’d enjoyed as a kid.

Odin was a name known the world over.

Because Odin was the Guild everyone recognized as the best in the world.

Step.

We came to a stop. Beyond the door, I sensed a vast, carefully contained qi.

Team Leader Choi’s calm voice crossed the quiet corridor.

“Let’s go.”

Click.

The door opened at last.

Someone standing before the fireplace slowly turned to face us.

At first, everyone thought it was a minor mishap.

They were busy and preoccupied with problems that needed immediate attention. And it had begun and ended in the blink of an eye.

But it was no minor mishap. The first to realize that was the youngest employee assigned to the evidence storage room.

“Um, Manager? I think we’re missing a piece of evidence.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“I just checked the inventory, and we seem to be one item short…”

“Quit talking nonsense and check again, you idiot. Nothing’s been taken out of storage in over a week.”

The manager frowned, crossed his legs, and went back to watching his stocks.

Thirty minutes later, the youngest employee returned, scratching the back of his head.

“Manager, I really think it’s missing. One of the items connected to Go Jun is gone.”

“Hey, I told you. The storage room’s been locked for a week. My stock’s already hit its daily limit down,¹ so stop pissing me off with this non—”

The manager broke off.

“What did you just say?”

“I told you. It really is gone,” the employee said, shrinking back.

“No, not that. What did you say right before that?”

“Huh? Oh—the items connected to Go Jun?”

“……!”

At the name that once again slipped from the youngest employee’s mouth, the manager felt a chill run down his spine.

Go Jun. Of all the things to go missing, it had to be evidence from the Go Jun case.

“Hey, the door. The door! Open the storage room right now! Get the others too—no, wait. Don’t call them yet!”

He jumped up and hurried to the evidence storage room. After he and the youngest employee spent hours searching every corner, he finally had to admit it.

Fuck…

It was gone. It really was gone.

The clueless junior hadn’t been talking nonsense. And the stock he’d bought the day before yesterday hitting its daily limit down was the least of his worries.

If word got out, his whole life would hit limit down.

What the hell is this?

Half dazed, he stared around the storage room. It made no sense.

They’d last checked the inventory only a week ago. Since then, no one had entered the room, yet an item had vanished without a trace.

Neither the anti-theft Magic placed on each piece of evidence nor the alarm Magic covering the entire room had gone off.

And it had to be evidence connected to Go Jun.

The mere disappearance of evidence was already enough to require him to write an incident report, but if evidence related to Go Jun had disappeared, this would not end with ordinary disciplinary action. The higher-ups had already collected the important pieces, but it had been an enormous case.

“……Seriously, this is driving me crazy.”

The manager felt the future go dark before his eyes. A civil servant’s lifeline might be long, but it wasn’t a steel cable. It could still be cut.

He pictured his tiger-like wife and rabbit-like children waiting at home. He couldn’t bring himself to report it.

Right. Bury it. Just for now, and see what happens.

If he could talk the clueless junior around, he might find a way out later.

Decision made, he called to the youngest employee somewhere in the vast storage room, using the kindest voice he could muster.

“Are you there?”

“Ah, yes. I just got here.”

“You went somewhere. Come over here for a moment. I have something important to discuss with you…”

He turned around and saw the youngest employee, eyes shining brightly.

Behind him stood the Security Team Leader, as imposing as an iron tower.

“What’s going on?” the Security Team Leader asked. “I heard there was a problem.”

“……?”

“Manager Kim?”

Fuck. I’m screwed.

The manager barely held back the curse. He opened his mouth, despair in his voice.

“It’s gone.”

“Pardon?”

“The necklace that came in among Go Jun’s personal effects. It’s gone.”