Chapter 743

A space reserved for one person alone.

In the light that faintly illuminated the darkness, an eerie sound of flesh tearing echoed through the air.

Crack. Crack-crack.

Bones and muscles twisted. A tremendous force surged in time with the beating of a heart, bringing about a transformation.

What was weak grew strong.

What was strong grew stronger still.

The man’s veins stood out across his body, and cold sweat had soaked him through. A thin line of blood slipped between his tightly pressed lips and ran down his chin.

Drip.

Drops of blood fell one by one.

Yet despite the agony wringing every part of his body, there was no trace of fear or pain in his gray eyes.

To some, it would have been worse than death. To him, it was familiar.

And the reward for enduring it was always sweet.

Just like now.

Hssssss.

The sickening cracks fell silent. At the same time, the energy that had been thrashing inside him rapidly settled. The veins bulging so grotesquely across his body slowly receded, and his muscles stopped convulsing.

Once again, the man received his “Reward.”

Whoosh—boom!

In an instant, a tremendous wave of qi burst from him and swept in every direction. The light that had faintly illuminated the space vanished, and everything within some ten meters¹ crumbled to dust.

It was power.

Overwhelming power.

Michael Silbert felt the change within himself and smiled.

Vrrrrr.

A faint vibration reached him from somewhere.

Michael knew exactly what it meant. He rose without hesitation and silently extended a hand. A hidden door opened, spilling light from the other side.

Step. Step.

His footsteps were strong and steady, as though the ordeal moments earlier had never happened. He crossed his study—vast was a better word for it—and stopped before a large mirror.

The full-length mirror glowed and faintly vibrated. Michael studied his reflection in its flawless surface, then laid a hand against the glass.

Tap.

In the next moment—

Flash!

A brief flare of light transformed the view in the mirror. Michael and his study vanished, replaced by an endless horizon, buildings moving slowly past, and a lone figure.

Dark skin, golden eyes, a silk top hat, and a monocle—the last two rarely seen these days.

Michael greeted the loyal retainer who had served him for years.

“You’ve been working hard, Huginn.”

Huginn tipped his hat to his superior.

“Not at all, Guild Master.”

That was greeting enough. As though by agreement, they went straight to business.

“The Swiss Federal Police recovered Siegfried Bassmann’s body an hour ago.”

“And those bastards?”

The question was brief. Huginn needed no clarification.

“They were questioned briefly as witnesses and released. If we push as hard as we can, we might drag them before the International Court of Justice, but I doubt we can take it any further.”

“I assume that isn’t just your own assessment. Who’s your source?”

“In Switzerland, Minister Berse.”

“Berse?”

Michael nodded calmly at the name of the Minister of the Interior, whose election as Switzerland’s president next year was considered all but certain.

“Then I’ve heard enough. We should let the matter end there.”

“I agree, Guild Master. Still, given what’s at stake, pursuing them to the end might be worth considering.”

“You want to throw them into a pit of filth, one way or another?”

“Shouldn’t we drag them in by the collar if we have to? The whole world will be watching as soon as this gets out. Siegfried Bassmann’s cause of death is unknown, and people will have questions. Then…”

“Conspiracy theories will spread. And those bastards will be their first targets.”

“Yes. Under the circumstances, wouldn’t that be effective?”

Michael shook his head without hesitation.

“Conspiracy theories are nonsense. Only fools obsessed with gossip and their own fantasies would suspect them.”

Siegfried Bassmann had been a figure of tremendous stature, not just in Switzerland but around the world. Michael could easily use his death to spread theories about his enemies. It would just as easily backfire.

If he forcibly dragged his enemies into a pit of filth, some of that filth would splash onto him as well.

“Most people won’t give those theories a second thought. Worse, some will start wondering whether everything that’s happened around those bastards was staged. People who curse them today will take their side tomorrow.”

As far as Michael knew, that was human nature. They were quick to condemn someone after being deceived by one tiny false aspect, then quickly changed their attitude once the whole truth came to light, gently embracing the person they had cursed.

As though nothing had happened.

As though the rest of the world had cursed him, but they never had.

Michael had no desire to see that happen. The plan’s uncertain outcome was reason enough, but more importantly, its central figure was missing.

Jin Taekyung.

The name hovered on the tip of his tongue.

At most, Siegfried Bassmann’s death might put pressure on Magic Johnson. Even that was unlikely. Unless Michael brought down Jin Taekyung—the man at the center of it all—he would only be wasting his strength.

“Leave the Swiss matter alone. There’s nothing to gain from it.”

Huginn answered the calm, firm order at once.

“Understood. I’ll relay that to Minister Berse as well.”

“Good. How are things with the media outlets?”

“Going well. We fed them firewood, and the flames took off. There is one matter I need to raise, though…”

“Money?”

“Yes. They’ve demanded much more than we expected.”

“Greedy, aren’t they? What they’ve already received should be more than enough.”

“That’s why I consider it fortunate. We only need to give them what they want.”

Michael let out a quiet laugh. Huginn was right. Satisfy a person’s greed at the right moment—better yet, give them more than they had imagined wanting—and they would never betray you.

“I’ll give you access to some of my secret accounts. Take whatever you need.”

“Should I take that to mean I can give them enough to astonish them?”

“Exactly. You’ve become quite the villain.”

“I learned from a certain someone.”

“There’s an interesting saying among Easterners: ‘When three people gather, they can make a tiger.’² Keep the media under our control until this is over. Just as you have been.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Michael knew the power of the media. He knew, too, how shallow and frightening a crowd’s judgment could be.

Part of him found it ridiculous that he had to go this far.

I was certain no one alive could stop me now, apart from Cheon Taemin.

Not the Ares Guild, once called the best in the world. Not Lee Jungryong, who had filled the void Cheon Taemin left behind. Not even the heroes of the Great Cataclysm, Magic Johnson among them.

None of them had been his match.

Then Jin Taekyung appeared.

How is that possible?

Michael could hardly believe it. He had been a young man from the slums with nothing but poverty to his name. Reaching his current position had taken years upon years of patience.

Jin Taekyung was different.

He had appeared out of nowhere and, in barely more than a year, amassed extraordinary achievements and Fame. The whole world had come to love him.

Just as it had loved someone from Michael’s past, still vivid in his memory.

Sky.

One week ago, Michael had sensed a trace of Cheon Taemin in the young Asian man he met for the first time in the ruins.

He looked different. He felt different. But Michael’s instincts had warned him.

He’s dangerous.

He’ll be the greatest obstacle in my way.

Those instincts had been right. Even with countless media outlets pouring out malicious stories, people had not stopped voicing their support for Jin Taekyung.

Those swept up in the terror of the attacks and the crowd mentality the media had cultivated were simply louder. Jin Taekyung still stood firm.

But if my guess is right… it’s only a matter of time before he falls.

Michael thought to himself as he recalled Jin Taekyung’s eyes, blazing with rage.

And someone who had stood beside him.

One step. Only one step remained between Michael and the summit he had longed to reach. He already held the flag that would proclaim his conquest.

“Huginn.”

Huginn had waited in silence while his superior was lost in thought.

“Yes, Guild Master.”

“There must be no mistakes or unexpected complications with this mission.”

“Don’t worry. I handled everything exactly as you ordered. Nothing was overlooked.”

Michael smiled at the ready answer from the loyal retainer who had shared so many years—and so many secrets—with him.

“Good. That’s all I need to hear.”

“I won’t disappoint you.”

The man who had given the order and the man who had carried it out both knew what their actions would bring. They knew countless people would die or be injured.

To Michael, that was a minor detail.

It was an unavoidable sacrifice on the way to the goal he had long sought. If he could obtain what he wanted, then the sacrifice of those who would die somewhere in this vast world was an absurdly cheap price.

Crash!

The magically treated glass shattered at once. A moment ago, it had been a communications crystal ball. Now a wave swept its countless fragments away.

Whooosh.

Wind swept over Huginn as he stood at the stern, gazing at the rolling sea.

Three days at the latest. It’ll probably begin before then.

The crystal ball’s fragments were not the only things he had cast into the deep. Before long, the whole world would see the result.

The calculations were perfect. The mission was a success.

He felt no guilt. Only the satisfaction of having carried out his orders perfectly, and one small question he had yet to answer.

Will this be enough to bring Jin Taekyung down completely?

Huginn shook his head. The superior he served was always thorough, and the path he chose had always been the right one.

“We’re heading back. Get ready.”

At his brief command, the ship turned.

Behind it, growing slowly more distant, Tokyo’s forest of buildings rose against the sky.