Chapter 3

Jinseong got dressed and headed to the restaurant.

Upon receiving the message from Iserin, he changed his clothes and moved, but it took quite a while for him to arrive at the dining room.

There were several reasons for this; one was that the unnecessarily large mansion took ages to traverse just to get to the restaurant. Another was the annoyance caused by the uselessly expensive artwork peppered throughout, which lacked any sense of unity, forcing him to stop occasionally to gather his composure.

The most crucial reason was that this gaudy art reminded him of his days as a mercenary, specifically the times following the outbreak of World War III.

After a long journey, the sight that greeted him in the dining hall was nothing short of a spectacle.

A long and massive table reminiscent of medieval nobility was laid with a lavish, heavy breakfast that would surely turn one’s stomach if eaten in the morning. It was all Western-style, and the clan members seated at the table nonchalantly wolfed it down as if accustomed to such fare.

“What a sight to behold.”

There simply wasn’t a more extravagant display of wealth than this.

“You’re late.”

The one responsible for this extravagant scene, none other than Lee Yang-hoon, head of the Lee Clan and chairman of the Gwangyang Group, glared at him as he spoke.

“Yes.”

The exchange ended there.

Jinseong casually approached a vacant seat and sat down, while Yang-hoon continued eating without any further expression.

However, the situation changed when the door suddenly swung open again.

Iserin, exuding gloom while eating, entered the room, but was met by a woman who, in contrast, radiated an aura of carefree rebellion.

“Why are you late?”

Yang-hoon questioned the woman fiercely, despite her belated arrival.

If he didn’t like her answer, he seemed ready to shout.

His eyes conveyed this message.

“Oh, shut up. People can be late sometimes, you old fogey.”

She retorted, seating herself next to Jinseong. Without hesitation, she poked his side with her finger and whispered.

“What a total old man, right?”

Yang-hoon’s face flushed with anger, yet he sighed deeply seeing Jinseong’s smiling face.

“Iarin. You’re to come to the study after breakfast.”

“Yes~ Yes~”

Yang-hoon, unable to outright express his anger in Jinseong’s presence, opted instead to bottle it up for later. Meanwhile, Iarin responded carelessly and began to eat the food laid out on the table.

Watching them filled Jinseong with nostalgia.

“It’s been ages since I’ve seen this.”

A scene from the days he was sheltered back in the mansion, a time when he was too consumed by magic and money to even consider such moments.

The ambiance was cozy enough to want to settle in and enjoy it longer.

But that was not possible.

“I’ve resolved to dedicate my soul to magic; that decision must be honored.”

Jinseong smiled brightly and spoke.

“I have attained enlightenment.”

Enlightenment?

His outlandish declaration drew everyone’s gaze.

Yang-hoon’s legitimate wife, concubines, and daughters’ eyes were all fixated on him.

Suddenly declaring something about enlightenment with no context? It was only natural to be baffled.

With the collective attention against him, Jinseong continued speaking.

“Enlightenment may take time, yet its arrival is but a fleeting moment. My enlightenment came in such a manner.”

“Did he really go crazy after digging into magic…?”

A whisper from the side drifted to his ears, but Jinseong pressed on, undeterred.

“Every principle is evident in all things, and within all things lies the world’s answer. Just as the moon beckons the tide, so too did enlightenment find me.”

Yang-hoon opened his mouth in disbelief.

“Alright, enlightenment. What enlightenment are you talking about?”

“Specifically, a revolutionary approach to breakfast.”

“Alternative approach?”

“Indeed. Breakfast is originally a preparatory act to face the day’s affairs thoroughly. If we can simplify that process and meet the necessary conditions, we gain spare time—surely that’s a benefit, no?”

His unnecessarily grandiose and weighty wording, intertwined with his convoluted thoughts, left everyone in silence.

“So, to summarize in simpler terms, what does that mean?”

“Starting now, how about we replace my breakfast with nutritional supplements?”

And as they grasped the true meaning behind Jinseong’s statement, everyone couldn’t help but chuckle.

His overly serious tone, reminiscent of a soothsayer delivering profound prophecies, merely expressed a childish grievance of “I don’t want to eat breakfast,” prompting their laughter.

“I have received enlightenment concerning this unfortunate body; I predict progress in magic, so I wish to devote myself without hesitation to practice.”

“No, huh. I get it. With enlightenment, there’s no helping it…”

Yang-hoon appeared to have something to say but ultimately sighed heavily instead.

“Fine, understood…. Starting when?”

“The initiation should coincide with the dropping of a thunderbolt; thus, it would be wise not to postpone the date.”

“…Got it. You won’t have to eat breakfast anymore. I’ll have someone bring you simple food and supplements.”

Jinseong found his position in the house rather ambiguous.

His given name was Park Jinseong.

He was completely unrelated to the Lee Clan by blood.

What about his parents?

Not at all.

The now-deceased Park Jinseong’s parents had little connection to the Lee family. To be more precise, while his parents belonged to an organization that had ties with the Lee Clan, those ties were hardly friendly; rather, they bordered on a nearly antagonistic relationship.

Did the Lee Clan serve as Jinseong’s guardians? That, too, was ambiguous.

Legally, his guardian was a distant relative of the Park family. In reality, it was uncertain if this guardian was even alive; only a nominal guardian existed. But fundamentally, the Lee Clan had been acting as Jinseong’s guardians until he turned twenty-one.

It’s complicated whether to call them guardians or not.

Even more dubious was that in typical scenarios where one group provides support, they typically become the dominant force, while the other is subordinate. However, in this case, Jinseong and the Lee Clan occupied both roles.

“The Lee Clan must ensure I am raised without want until I reach adulthood.”

It was a peculiar kind of unfair contract.

He could live without want until the year he becomes an adult, meaning one year from now.

What would he pay in return?

Nothing.

A perfect unfair contract indeed.

How could such a contract come to be…

“There’s quite an absurd story behind it.”

Not just any story, but one absurd enough to draw a few stunned chuckles.

“Chance is embraced as mere coincidence, and the cost of choice must be borne by oneself.”

Yet despite the complexity, cause and effect persisted.

The spark that ignited the conflict between the two factions was the reckless actions of the Lee Clan, during which his parents perished. As penance, the two factions ordered the Lee Clan to take care of him.

However, the entire course of events felt so intertwined that it could be deemed fateful, and the death of his parents was not the fault of the Lee Clan but rather the consequences of their own deeds.

All of it may have simply been an inevitable future.

“ॐ-”

But with all this entanglement, their relations remained inherently ambiguous.

Among the Lee Clan, there were no truly bad people.

Yang-hoon, with his nouveau riche tendencies, was at least someone who understood the concept of nobless oblige.

Though he might have a flimsy grasp on it, his intentions weren’t malicious.

Had he received proper education being born into a prestigious family, he likely would have become a respected wealthy man.

Even Jinseong, who harbored intense hatred toward nouveau riche people, couldn’t muster ill feelings for Yang-hoon; it was clear he was a good person.

The concubines also exhibited decent personalities. The manner in which Iserin and Iarin, born of a concubine, received ample affection from both the main wife and secondary wives attests to that—they had good character.

Of course, there were tales of hardships behind their relationships, and there certainly were intricate stories to tell… but at the very least, Jinseong found both of their natures agreeable.

His daughter, too.

At first glance, Iarin gave off the impression of a rebellious spirit, yet she never bullied anyone, and aside from being a tad frivolous and glamorous, her character was otherwise impeccable. Meanwhile, her twin sister, Iserin, might have exhibited a gloomy eccentricity, but she too was not the type to torment others. If anything, she would never harm others, even if she suffered herself.

It’s rare to find such people in a nouveau riche household overflowing with wealth.

Events in so-called noble families see plenty of unruly offspring emerge, and it’s almost a guarantee that some would seek to ruin their lives or destroy the lives of others.

Yes, it was indeed a harmonious family, filled with kind-hearted people.

So much so that Jinseong felt a tinge of embarrassment simply being there.

This was precisely why their relations remained ambiguous.

Had their personalities been harsher, Jinseong could have easily labeled his parents’ deaths as mere chance, cementing his hatred for them and marking a clear divide.

Consequently, Jinseong had no choice but to leave the house immediately upon reaching adulthood.

Even if they had continued supporting him as an adult, their ambiguous relationship would have dragged on and eventually culminated in a situation where they would become shackles for each other.

“Having honed my magic, I had no issues sustaining myself.”

The spells he diligently nurtured since middle school had reached a stage where he could easily earn a living, leading him to naturally choose the profession of a mercenary, the one that promised the highest financial rewards.

It was dangerous, yet it came with numerous perks.

He had the freedom to roam the world, meet various people, and engage with a shadowy world he’d never come to know living ordinary life.

Though fraught with risk, it also offered great financial rewards, along with opportunities to hone combat skills so he wouldn’t perish painfully on the battlefield.

Aside from the significant drawback of risking his life, it was indeed an excellent profession.

And then…

“The world is engulfed in World War III.”

The entire globe turned into a dangerous place.

Africa became a breeding ground for lunatics performing bodily modifications under the guise of returning to the dawn of time, while Europe transformed into a war zone led by mad dictators. America became a neighborhood where nuclear warfare and great magic intertwined, and chaos surged throughout Asia as the specter of war loomed.

With the entire world engulfed in warfare, madmen capable of army-level destruction surfaced everywhere, leading to chaos. In response, ABC weapons—Atomic, Biological, and Chemical—were employed, resulting in utter devastation and disorder.

“And remarkably, the world continued to function surprisingly well.”

A situation that could be aptly described as a mere five minutes before apocalypse, yet paradoxically, the world continued its course.

Despite ships and planes exploding at random, trade unexpectedly thrived, and even as terrorism rampaged through capitals and critical facilities, those who accepted death as part of life moved on as if nothing were amiss.

Even when a building exploded, killing hundreds of students, schools kept operating, and when a smaller city vaporized in a nuclear blast, the country’s administration didn’t grind to a halt.

Although missiles were hurled and chaos erupted, covert trade persisted, and strange coincidences of ceasing hostilities only to declare war again against former foes occurred with regularity.

No one knew why this persisted, but somehow, it continued, albeit creakily.

Even though World War III raged, the world did not come to ruin.

If one were to hazard a guess as to why, it could be attributed to the collective efforts of countless individuals wishing to avoid hell, their learned sense of urgency drawn from history, and endeavors of those capable of incredible feats.

“Heroes, indeed. There’s one in this house as well.”

Step.

As Jinseong sank deep into thought, he heard footsteps outside.

“A light, irregular footfall. A small-statured woman.”

– Knock, knock.

“Oppa, are you there…?”

With the sound of knocking, Iserin entered.

“I brought the nutrients and food… here it is…”

Iserin awkwardly smiled as she placed the carefully packed items on the floor.

The sight reminded him of a squirrel frozen in shock upon witnessing something strange while darting about with acorns, igniting a protective instinct within him. However, instead of that, what Jinseong recalled was a vision of Iserin in the future.

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