William, having watched ‘The Christmas’, looked as if he had just encountered a dinosaur with blood on its mouth while walking down the street.
He was frozen stiff, as if he had seen Medusa’s gaze, his eyes wide enough that it seemed like his eyeballs might pop out and fall to the ground at any moment, and his mouth, which should have been cursing, opened slowly with no strength to even utter a word.
“Uh….”
After a not-so-short time, a voice finally emerged from William’s frozen mouth.
But it was far from coherent language; it was more like a tiny scream filled with terror and surprise.
William stared at the sculpture before him with eyes shaking as if an earthquake had struck, then rubbed his eyes roughly in disbelief. Yet, no matter how much he rubbed, the sculpture remained in front of him, refusing to vanish, his eyes turning red as he realized it was not an illusion.
“Why is that there?”
Realizing that what he was seeing was not a hallucination, William doused his fear with a surge of burning emotion.
That emotion was anger.
It was the most suitable emotion to dilute fear and allowed the prey to rebel against the predator, even if only for a moment.
“You little bastards! Smash that thing!”
William channeled that anger in a constructive direction.
He decided to clear the sculpture that dared bring his nightmare to life.
But he did not step forward himself.
He didn’t even summon his creatures.
He merely commanded the bodyguard, a being he used like an appendage.
However, the bodyguards did not respond immediately to William’s hysterical shout.
It was only natural.
It was not a dangerous enemy or suspicious behavior—they were simply smashing a sculpture.
Why would they heed such orders when they were not life-and-death subordinates or devoted followers who worshiped William like a god?
The bodyguards looked at William with reproach, who was trying to drag them into his mess with his unreasonable demands. Not only that, the leader among the bodyguards firmly denied William’s command as if to say it was unacceptable.
“Sir, we exist solely for your safety.”
Of course, it wasn’t that they stood by William solely focusing on protection.
They had transformed a fabric store into a sealed room at his behest, and even handed out money to victims of his antics.
But those were extensions of protection.
It was an entirely different matter than smashing sculptures set up in someone else’s home.
“Really? I never expected anything from you! You bastard dogs of the clan! Russell!”
William scoffed at the bodyguards’ reactions as if he had anticipated it.
He had never believed that they would follow his orders, acting as if they were good-natured caretakers constantly nagging him with disapproving looks.
Instead, he called upon the name of a loyal being who obeyed his words better than anyone else in this world.
A precious entity that was incomparable to these bodyguards—his summon.
Upon hearing his name, the summon responded to William’s command, puffing up its body, lowering slightly as if preparing to tackle, and bracing its muscles. When it deemed itself ready, it dashed forward and collided straight into the sculpture.
BANG!
The sculpture shattered easily under the summon’s body slam, vanishing from William’s sight, freeing him from its vexation.
“Damn it, why was that even there….”
Yet, even though the sculpture was gone, William continued to curse with a face twisted in disgust.
The entity’s remnants lingered in his mind even after it disappeared.
The trauma that had deeply rooted itself in his heart had already resurfaced.
But instead of plunging him into panic, William’s terrible personality turned it into anger.
Spitting on the ground, he gestured for the summon to come to his side and walked towards the mansion without a word.
With each step oozing anger, it looked as if he would curse loudly and cause a scene if the mansion owner were to show up.
However, that reckless march soon had to come to a halt.
“Are they out of their minds….”
Another ‘The Christmas’ came into view.
No.
To be precise, he saw multiple ‘The Christmas’.
One among the trees.
One in the artificially made lake.
One beneath the bridge.
One among the street trees.
…
…
…
There were at least about ten ‘The Christmas’ sculptures placed throughout the mansion.
They were cleverly positioned so that they were invisible from outside, but once you followed the path to the mansion, you would inevitably see them.
Moreover, their sizes varied widely; some were no larger than a human head, while others were enormous, as if combined from several people. Additionally, there was even a ‘The Christmas’ sculpture smaller than a palm, hanging under the bell that served as decoration for the entrance door.
William’s complexion gradually paled at the sight of all those ‘The Christmas’, as if they were staring straight at him. Unconsciously huffing breaths, he felt his hands and feet go numb.
The numbness started in his extremities and traveled up his arms and legs, paralyzing him, until it reached his chest, making it feel as though a rock had been placed upon it.
William’s breath grew shallow, his complexion changed, and feeling like the world was spinning, he collapsed to the ground like a fallen log.
“Sir?”
“Calm down. You’re hyperventilating.”
Hyperventilating.
William collapsed due to the unshakeable presence of trauma.
The bodyguards sighed softly and carried the fainted William. They didn’t stop there; they took off their jackets and covered William’s face so he couldn’t see anything, quickly exiting the mansion.
To escape hyperventilation, stabilizing the mind was essential.
Thus, William’s rude visit to the mansion came to an end.
Proving the excellent effect of the ‘Talisman.’
Time passed peacefully.
…
The existence of children tends to obsess over something once they fixate on it.
And elevating it to an elegant description, ‘immature’ William was also quite fixated.
To the extent that he attempted another visit to the mansion, his first encounter having ended in failure.
Of course, he didn’t just barge in like a fool.
He caused a ruckus, demanding Ella and Agnes to immediately remove those damn sculptures and threatened the bodyguards with the possibility of going on a rampage if they didn’t comply.
After creating such a scene, William held onto an optimistic thought: ‘With me expressing my anger so strongly, they surely must have removed it, right?’
However, there was something William overlooked—this wasn’t England or Europe, but Korea.
And there weren’t any people who held any good feelings towards him.
If it had been England, Europe, or even America, someone might at least pretend to listen to his demands.
But here, it was Korea.
The Artua Clan?
Sure, they had wealth and power.
But what did that matter?
The Gwangyang Group didn’t conduct business where the influence of the Artua Clan reached.
There was no connection between the Gwangyang Group and the Artua Clan.
They weren’t collaborating on business, the Artua Clan didn’t own shares related to the Gwangyang Group, and William’s pathetic influence was far from sufficient to threaten a corner store. Not to mention, they had nothing particularly to gain or lose from the Artua Clan.
Moreover, even beyond the Artua Clan, there was no reason to bow down to William.
The very reason those sculptures were erected was for the guests residing in the house.
And they were guests with immense value, to help forge business partnerships and provide significant benefits when the Gwangyang Group ventured into Europe.
They were guests with far greater importance than a rogue bastard referred to as a ‘Prophet’ by the Artua Clan.
So why would they obey the demands of a rascal?
In fact, they only expanded the number.
The number of sculptures, which initially stood at around ten, tripled, and without stopping there, they cleverly painted on the mansion’s wall so that once reaching a certain point, the wall’s patterns formed the outlines of the sculptures.
Additionally, they even arranged sculptures by the windows in the warehouse room to create an illusion of eye contact.
“This…!”
William was angered by the overt attitude telling him to eat shit.
But what good did shaking with rage do?
Due to that talisman, he couldn’t even approach the mansion, and all he could do was throw a tantrum at Agnes or Ella.
Even that tantrum could easily be avoided if Agnes and Ella simply went out and changed their numbers.
Perhaps getting so angry that he would attack from outside?
That was resolved when Odilia politely contacted the Artua Clan to file a complaint.
Accompanied by a light warning that if things went haywire, terrible things might follow the clan.
The Artua Clan did not ignore Odilia’s warning.
If Lee Yang-hoon had given the warning, they might have brushed it off, dismissing it as nonsense from an Eastern fellow, but Odilia was someone feared as a Great Witch, possessing great abilities and numerous connections.
Her network was not limited to those with power.
Odilia had connections with the Clan’s elders, former presidents, and heroes of the military. It wasn’t merely about crushing someone by pure force; it was about leveraging respected and esteemed individuals to apply pressure.
Moreover, although Odilia fell short of William’s height, she also had a fiery temperament.
She behaved timidly in front of Park Jinseong and Agnes but was otherwise known for her awful temperament among others. How is it that someone with such beautiful looks could be disparaged behind her back as a ‘witch’?
Additionally, she threatened the Artua Clan with words that sent chills down the spine: ‘As for prophecies, let that brat die; I’ll let it be.’
What was the reason William was in Korea?
Wasn’t it because his ‘savior’ was related to Agnes?
But what if Odilia made sure that the ‘savior’ could never rescue William?
Could he escape unharmed from the terrifying existence that seemed intent on killing him?
“I’ll have the bodyguards restrain him. Please cooperate with the prophecy.”
The Artua Clan recognized the fact that William’s life was in Odilia’s grasp and concluded that they should avoid provoking her until at least the prophecy was fulfilled.
William throwing a tantrum because he didn’t heed their words was one matter, but if Odilia were to flip out and hide the ‘savior’, it would mean putting the precious life of the ‘Prophet’ at risk.
Hence, the Artua Clan commanded the bodyguards assigned to William to safely keep him in a villa, providing thorough protection against any issues that might arise.
While it was termed protection, it was closer to confinement.
Thus, the talisman performed excellently.
It blocked two visits from the rascal, prevented William from directly meeting Anastasia, and successfully kept him confined to the villa until his coming-of-age ceremony.
Everyone, except for that beastly scoundrel, ended up happier, which could only be deemed a good thing.
Time flowed in peace.
