Lucas Metathronius Goldsmith.
No matter how many times I mull it over, it’s a peculiar name.
The middle name “Lucas” is common, but “Metathronius” is undoubtedly strange.
Moreover, the fact that the business card has the pronunciation guide written on it only amplifies how unusual it feels.
There’s even a polite explanation: the word ‘Metathronius’ is read as ‘Metathronius.’
If this isn’t considered strange, then what is?
Metathronius.
The name clearly tweaks just one letter from the Latin word Metathronius which means “one who sits on the throne.”
It also means “the representative of God.”
And naturally, the illustrious owner of this grandiose epithet existed.
A globally renowned angel, no less.
The scribe of heaven, the angel of contracts, the being that stands in for Yahweh, the pillar of fire who showed Moses the way.
An angel whose towering height seems to touch the sky, an angel with a body made from a pillar of fire.
Metatron.
Depending on the region, this angel was often mistaken for Satan due to his immense power and omniscience.
And here this name was blatantly pushed into the middle name.
If a devout religious person were to see it, they might shout, “This snake born of Satan is committing blasphemy!” and not be surprised. Especially considering that America, the land dominated by Christianity, is where the name was likely conceived—one could call it a name with guts.
But at the same time, the very fact that this man lived despite having such a name could itself be proof of his greatness.
“Huh. Look at that crystal arm…”
Perhaps he isn’t intact after all.
After all, his left arm is missing, replaced by a prosthetic.
But still…
Replacing an arm can likely be done in countless ways. Perhaps it isn’t that big of a loss.
Jinseong thought this as he stood up from his seat.
“Yes. I’m looking forward to the meal.”
“Heh, sure. You’re in for a treat. Trust me.”
The place Lucas brought Jinseong to was a handmade burger shop called “Wolf’s Burger.”
As soon as they walked in, the strong scent of meat and cheese greeted them. People dressed in suits were lined up waiting for their burgers, and the tables were packed with individuals eating large handmade burgers in various ways.
“This way.”
Lucas led Jinseong deeper into the busy shop until they reached a small room with a sign that read “VIP ONLY.”
He entered the room and instructed the waiting staff.
“I’ll have the usual.”
He ordered casually before turning his attention to Jinseong who was seated across from him.
He grinned and said,
“And this guest here, the whole menu.”
“…The whole menu, correct?”
“Yep. Oh, and I assume you know that includes shakes and beverages, right?”
“Understood.”
“Ah, and Jinseong Park doesn’t have any allergies, so don’t leave anything out. Let him enjoy the full experience.”
Having placed the shocking order, Lucas quickly urged the staff to leave the room. With a playful glint in his eye, he turned to Jinseong and asked,
“Disappointed I brought you to a handmade burger joint after building up so much anticipation?”
“No, not at all.”
“It seems that way to me too. In fact, you’re looking quite excited, which is very satisfying. That’s why I feel obligated to give you a gift.”
“A gift?”
“Exactly. With all the anticipation I’ve built, of course I must give you a gift. So feel no pressure, just enjoy every item on the menu.”
Lucas smiled.
“At least in my experience, this is the best burger I’ve ever eaten. I assure you, you can trust me on this.”
He pointed to the wall as if to emphasize that this wasn’t idle talk.
“Would I invest in a place like this if it wasn’t amazing? I own this burger shop, and I personally ordered the creation of this VIP-only space. It’s a design I created myself, tailored to my tastes, so I have easy access to hamburgers whenever I’m hungry!”
He kept praising the shop as if trying to build Jinseong’s anticipation.
And also, to further amplify the question in Jinseong’s mind: “Why did he invite me to dinner?”
This was one of the techniques of negotiation.
Deliberately stalling and making the other party uncomfortable, complicating their thoughts, and rendering them incapable of a proper response.
A method that’s been used throughout human history and is as old as negotiation itself.
While it’s overused to the point that there’s no more marrow left in the soup, it remains one of the most fundamental and effective techniques.
And this method has both strengths and weaknesses because it’s so famous.
It’s easy to notice, but even when noticed, hard to counter, dragging the opponent into a sense of helplessness. This helplessness reaffirms the dominance of the other side, making it difficult to take a firm stance in negotiation.
But at the same time, this negotiation style also counts as rudeness.
At least for a “first-time guest,” it would be considered rude without question.
Yet, Lucas used this method on Jinseong without hesitation.
Why?
‘He’s probably someone who’s never been in a position of weakness.’
Jinseong surmised.
Because Lucas has likely never been in a vulnerable position. He’s probably never been treated this way, and he likely anticipated no complaints from anyone he treated this way before.
That’s why he can use this technique effortlessly.
“Goldsmith, Goldsmith. A Jewish-sounding surname… Is he Jewish? With Wall Street connections, it might be related to the financial world.”
Jinseong guessed Lucas’s occupation by his name and behavior.
But of course, he couldn’t be certain. It was just a guess.
After all, the name Lucas Metathronius Goldsmith didn’t ring a bell.
Most likely, he had died.
Otherwise, there’s no way Jinseong wouldn’t have come across this name.
He had met mercenaries, cultivated connections as a shaman, and traveled the world—never hearing the name of a high-ranking individual would be unnatural.
Making connections and forming friendships is an entirely different matter, but not hearing the name even once? That was improbable.
Unless, of course, it was some sort of secret organization,
he should have at least heard of him.
“Probably died when I was struggling to establish myself as a mercenary.”
Jinseong naturally guessed the era in which this Lucas figure had died.
The period when he was busy with his own survival, unable to open his ears to the external world—when he was frantically struggling in the chaotic political landscape of the world.
It was during that time this man likely passed.
And the glory he once held must have crumbled to pieces, divided into scraps along with his estate, consumed by the mouths of other rich men.
Or,
“…The butterfly effect has occurred, and someone who should have died long ago is still alive.”
This man might be related to the reason Jinseong came to America.
The handmade burger Lucas boasted about was exquisite.
Each bite was an explosive assault on the taste buds!
Not just the burger—it was rumored that the milkshakes sold here even more than the burgers were truly remarkable, and the fries with a special seasoning were similarly delightful, stimulating one’s senses with a kind of snack-like pleasure.
“Hey, Jinseong Park, that’s all you’re going to eat?”
Unfortunately, despite the exquisite taste, Jinseong couldn’t eat much.
The amount of homemade burgers and side dishes piled on the table filled his stomach with just a few bites.
This was unavoidable.
Due to the curse ritual he had performed in the past, Jinseong had to have half his stomach removed, leaving it smaller than average.
While time had somewhat improved the situation, it still wasn’t at the same level as others.
“My stomach is small, so I couldn’t eat much. But the taste is truly excellent. This is the kind of flavor that will linger in my mind even when I’m back home.”
“Hahaha, yes, it’s top-notch. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Every time I visit America, I will likely drop by here. Thank you for introducing such a fine spot. Meeting such heavenly-tasting food in a new place is a genuine pleasure. It’s truly a blessing, grace, and favor of God.”
After the meal, Jinseong engaged in friendly conversation with Lucas with a smile on his face.
Though his words were full of gratitude, the tone hinted at a likely departure soon.
It sounded like, “I’m glad we met today. We shall meet again.”
Luc
Lucas chuckled softly at Jinseong’s attitude.
“Yeah, I suppose shamans are all the same.”
Lucas smirked when Jinseong, having eaten his fill, was about to leave like a slippery eel.
“Hey, Jinseong Park. You’ve heard the saying ‘There’s no such thing as a free lunch,’ right?”
“Yes. It’s a famous saying.”
“In that sense, Jinseong Park, I’d like you to hear me out.”
“Just hearing it will do?”
“Hmm, yes. A firm ‘Yes,’ would naturally be much appreciated, but compared to a free lunch, hearing my story isn’t too much to ask, is it? Just hear me out and judge accordingly.”
Lucas exercised his rights as the host, who treated him to the meal.
He placed his functional arm on the table and leaned toward Jinseong.
“First, look outside.”
He pointed toward the window.
Outside, there was a road with people and vehicles, and across it, stood a massive high-rise building.
“That building is mine. My Metatron Investment is in there.”
Lucas spoke while gazing at the towering skyscraper.
“Lately, though, it’s as if I’ve been cursed—nothing but crap keeps happening.”
“Trouble…?”
“Which is why I want to request two things from you.”
Lucas raised two fingers and turned his head toward Jinseong…
And at that moment, something moved rapidly just outside the window, falling from above.
Boom!
It fell to the ground due to gravity, exploding with a loud sound.
Like an overripe fruit hitting the ground and shattering into pieces.
However, the tree from which this “fruit” had fallen was none other than the building Lucas had just claimed as his own.
That’s right.
Someone had jumped off Lucas’s building.
“Damn it.”
Reacting to the fact, Lucas swore and said:
“Now three. I have three requests for you.”
And he extended a third finger.
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