We arrived at a private estate near the outskir Busan—one that my grandfather once used during Cold War negotiations. Its ownership was under a dummy shell company, but it still bore the mark of the Park Family: stone lions by the gate, cameras hidden in shadows, and barbed fencing reinforced with embedded carbon steel.
The convoy entered without a hitch. Every camera went dark the moment we passed through the gate.
Asura, sitting in the front passenger seat, turned toward me.
"The client is already inside. Do you want us to stand by or enter the room with you?"
I adjusted the cufflink on my left wrist and answered without hesitation.
"Stand by. If I can't handle a soft-bellied arms broker, I'm not qualified to lead this family."
He smirked slightly, but nodded. "As you command."
The doors opened, and I stepped out into a cold marble courtyard. Waiting at the grand entrance was another terrifying sight.
Not a summoned being. Not one of mine.
A real man.
Over 190cm tall. Bald. Scarred across the neck. Black gloves, black boots, and a face carved from years of war. He bowed with military precision.
"Young Master Ian. My name is Gunwoo Ryu. I serve your grandfather."
Ah. One of those.
The human monsters of the elder generation. I had only seen them from a distance on the island. Each one carried the air of death itself.
**"Is this your first deployment off-island?" I asked him.
Gunwoo didn't flinch. "It is my first deployment with you. I've been deployed since before you were born."**
I liked him.
We moved through the hall, surrounded by guards—half summoned, half living—and entered the underground conference suite. There, seated with a glass of brandy, was a wiry man in a tan overcoat. Gold chain. Eyes sharp and calculating.
This was Park Hwan. An independent South Korean arms broker connected to several mercenary groups in Asia. He had requested a private meeting with "a representative of the Park Family" after hearing rumors of our weapons resurfacing.
He had no idea he was sitting with the future face of war.
"You're younger than I expected," Hwan said, swirling his glass.
"And you're older than you should be to still be alive in this line of work," I replied calmly, taking a seat opposite him.
He laughed—a hollow, showy bark. Testing me. I didn't blink.
"So, you're the new lion cub. The world's been waiting to see if you bite."
I folded my hands, letting silence stretch between us. In negotiation, the first to speak often loses.
Eventually, he gave in.
"I represent buyers. They want small arms first. Ammo, too. But what caught their eye… were the drones."
I leaned in. "My drones aren't for decoration. They're modeled after predator-class units, but with AI integration from my summons' base coding. They don't miss."
Hwan paused. He realized now—this wasn't secondhand military gear. This was proprietary. Advanced. Illegal in every country.
Exactly what he wanted.
"They're willing to offer cryptocurrency equivalent to 7 billion won… for a monthly supply."
I tilted my head. "Double it. Then we talk delivery schedule."
He blinked. "Double? That's—"
"You're not just buying weapons. You're buying the protection of the Park Family. Do you know what that means?"
He didn't answer. So I continued.
"It means no one touches your shipments. It means airports turn blind. Satellites glitch. It means your enemies go missing."
Gunwoo Ryu stood quietly behind me, his expression unreadable.
Hwan leaned back, defeated but impressed.
"I'll send the revised offer to my clients. Can I at least get a demonstration?"
"You just had one," I said, standing. "You're alive. That's your demo."
I walked out of the room. Gunwoo followed, his presence like a second shadow.
[POV: Gunwoo Ryu]
As I followed the Young Master, I watched the way the guards parted before him. Not because they were ordered to. Because they feared him.
He moved like he'd already inherited the throne—even if no one had crowned him yet.
Back at the Rolls-Royce, he stopped before entering.
"Gunwoo-ssi."
I raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"You served my grandfather for decades. Tell me… how do you think I compare?"
There was silence.
Then I answered with the truth:
"He was a storm. You… you're a black hole. The world won't survive getting too close."
He smirked.
[POV: Jinyoung Park — Age 6]
Back on the island, I was studying sword patterns. Not because I liked them—but because I wanted to be like my hyung.
The servants said he'd left days ago. Mom said he was chasing his dream. But I knew better.
Ian wasn't chasing anything.
He was claiming it.
End of Chapter 9