Jinseong spoke directly.
He suggested that they delete the clauses intending to use him as a bodyguard.
“Hmm. Indeed.”
Lucas didn’t show any surprise at Jinseong’s words and gave a strange smile.
Without further ado, he swiftly deleted that section and replaced it with another sentence.
Instead of creating an obligation for Jinseong to save his life, he wrote clauses to protect himself from harm or damage to his property, as the employer.
“You say you were educated in a wealthy family, and you certainly know your stuff.”
Lucas regarded Jinseong with a meaningful smile, openly showing that he had investigated him while subtly hinting that he had deliberately inserted such clauses to test Jinseong’s abilities.
Jinseong merely smiled at Lucas’s reaction.
He showed no signs of displeasure, nor did he wear a similarly meaningful expression.
There was no sense of a cunning wolf waiting for an opportunity, nor did he exude the aura of a snake prowling for prey.
He simply laughed.
Calmly.
It wasn’t anything particularly unpleasant, nor was it something to fuss over.
The man before Jinseong was one of the wolves of Wall Street.
While his exact identity was unknown, judging by his words and demeanor, he was no ordinary person.
For someone like that to resort to such shallow tricks… it was likely nothing more than a test.
How could Jinseong be so certain it was merely a test, you ask?
It’s simple.
If he truly intended to deceive, he wouldn’t have made the contract so easy to decipher with just a quick glance.
Though the pre-revision contract could be described as ‘clever,’ it wasn’t crafted with malicious intent.
‘A truly malicious contract… is horrifying.’
Have you ever seen a contract designed with ill intent?
Jinseong had.
He had seen quite a few.
Contracts that legal experts might say were written with a devil’s tongue, filled with bizarre terminology that made them difficult to understand, crammed with words and phrases not commonly used, yet clearly interpretable from a legal standpoint.
Moreover, they weren’t just straightforward; dozens or even hundreds of clauses intertwined to create traps.
Those contracts were so convoluted that even trying to grasp their general outline would be a struggle. They had terrified many.
‘Where did that devilish contract trend start…’
He wasn’t quite sure of its origins.
It was likely the business world.
Only in that realm would there be those who could handle contracts so elegantly and horrifically.
However, one thing was certain: the contract that would not raise doubts even if attributed to a devil spread among people and became a trend. And as it began to trend, its design was revealed, and people reinforced it to make the contracts increasingly malicious.
Finally, when it appeared in the mercenary industry after passing through many places, the average person had transformed into a monster capable of legally hoodwinking others.
The first time his colleague saw that devilish contract, he couldn’t hide his disgust, saying, “If you look closely at this contract, there’s definitely a clause about selling your soul in there. I swear it!”
‘Of course, the trend ended quickly.’
But that remarkable contract’s popularity faded fast.
The reason was simple.
The ones who played such tricks started to drop like flies.
Fighting with knives or gunfights between the parties involved in the contract became commonplace. When such tricks were played between armed groups, bloody battles ensued. In corporate circles, capable persons were hired to find and eliminate the competition, and those with money hired hitmen to kill their rivals.
Mercenaries?
There was no need to mention them.
No matter how important trust was, not many could tolerate having their lives reduced to slavery under an overtly exploitative contract. Moreover, considering many in the mercenary business came from rock-bottom lives, it made it all the more pressing.
Those who tried to pull tricks on mercenaries ended up dead, either disguised as accidents or mysteriously.
The trend of that wicked contract, termed the ‘Contract from Hell,’ ended almost overnight.
The contract left behind the lesson that mutual understanding and respect, faith, and trust are vital.
Given what he had seen and experienced, Jinseong found Lucas’s contract not particularly special.
It was clever, but not blatantly hidden, leaving too many hints, almost as if inviting him to notice… a clear sign of Lucas’s intent to test him.
“Is there anything else to modify?”
“Yes.”
Jinseong willingly complied with Lucas’s ‘test.’
They revised portions unfavorable to him, deleted trap-like clauses, reassessed areas where he could incur losses, and changed the terms through mutual agreement.
As their discussion progressed, Lucas’s smile deepened.
He looked at Jinseong as if he were a proud tutor watching a student answer all the questions correctly.
Or like a baseball coach overjoyed to confirm a promising talent.
Joy spread across Lucas’s face, and that joy…
“Well. Good. You’re quite the elite.”
Finally found its form at the very bottom of the contract.
“—Elites deserve respect.”
Lucas wrote that phrase with a satisfied smile at the bottom of the hologram contract.
That phrase was the most crucial part, yet it had never once been mentioned between them.
Compensation.
What Jinseong would receive upon successful completion of the request.
That began to be inscribed at the bottom of the contract.
“I had three requests. The success fee for each task is $400,000.”
$400,000 for one task. Roughly 5 billion won.
If all three were successful, that would total 1.5 billion, quite a hefty sum.
However, that wasn’t the real main point.
It was what went beneath that.
“And… since you’ve come to America, it seems you’re looking to play in the big leagues. I’ll help with that. I’m saying I’ll introduce you, using my name.”
Connections.
Not just any connections, but golden ones.
“First, Harvard Management Company. I have a few acquaintances over there. Once you complete the request successfully, I’ll connect you with them. If you show some results, I might even refer you to an investment team.”
That wasn’t the endpoint.
Names began flooding beneath Harvard Management Company.
“And you need some political connections? Most of them are Republicans, but… they should be quite useful. Ah, I left out the Southern politicians. Those Dixie folks tend to fuss about skin color and pedigree. Even if I connect you with them, you might face racial discrimination.”
He continued to write, speaking.
“Interested in the entertainment industry, too? It’s a place filled with superstitious folks just like those dealing with money. It can be quite lucrative and serves as a perfect stepping stone. I’ll connect you with some decent friends over there. Ah, by ‘decent,’ I mean those who don’t dabble in drugs or crime. I’m not concerned with their filthy personalities or messy private lives.”
Names of individuals from the entertainment industry began getting written down.
“I heard you’ve used incredible fire-related magic? Flame magic? Seems that’s the case… I can connect you with people in the steel business. They deal with fire, and they’re near water. And they’re superstitious, given their links to ships. You should be able to do good business. Ah, of course, I’m not incredibly close to the big names in the chimney business, so I can’t guarantee you an introduction to anyone monumental… but it shouldn’t be bad for sales.”
Names of executives from major steel companies were listed as well.
“And… hmm. By the way, if you want to get into funds, just say it. I can help you out.”
And then it wrapped up with a sales-like remark.
That completed the explanation.
“What do you think? Doesn’t seem like a bad compensation. Will you accept?”
Jinseong smiled in response to Lucas’s question.
“Indeed. It’s not a bad compensation.”
“Really?”
Lucas took out his smartphone and brought it to his Crystal Arm. A downloading symbol appeared on the smartphone, and the contents of the contract saved successfully. The contract transferred to the smartphone and disappeared like a mirage, as if it had simply finished its task.
“Then off to contract. One that’s legally binding.”
*
The contract was successfully concluded.
After moving to a new location, Jinseong and Lucas drafted a legally binding contract, shaking hands to solidify their trust in one another.
Then, just as they finished shaking hands and stepped out of the building side by side…
“By the way,”
Lucas asked with a strange expression.
“Don’t you have any questions?”
It was a query filled with conviction.
“Aren’t you curious?”
Why he had entrusted him with the request.
Why he knew information about him.
Why he was offering such high compensation to someone just turned adult.
Why…
Why…
…
…
…
A multitude of questions and doubts should normally arise.
And he should be asking those questions.
So why wasn’t this young shaman asking?
Lucas questioned him on that matter.
Thus, the young shaman answered.
“Even if I asked, it would be meaningless, and what is significant is something I can understand without asking.”
It was a vague answer, as if touching a shadow with his hand.
