Chapter 279: Noisy Emergency Meeting (2)

Kang Geom-Ma took off running. Behind him, Director Sung and Media followed, panting, trying to stop him.

“Mr. Heavenly Sword!”

Director Sung shouted.

Kang Geom-Ma ignored the call and ran up the spiral stairs.

‘Did he run all the way to the 12th floor just because the elevator was slow…?’

He was so fast that even Media couldn’t keep up. He was literally as fast as lightning.

“You can’t just leave like this!”

Sung yelled desperately, hoping his plea would stop him. But it was useless. Kang Geom-Ma sped up even more.

‘I shouldn’t have said anything.’

Twenty minutes earlier, Kang Geom-Ma had arrived at the Hero Association headquarters in Seoul.

He asked Director Sung about the status of the meeting. Sung, who was monitoring the situation, sighed deeply and explained things were going badly.

Of course, Kang Geom-Ma asked why. Sung didn’t hesitate to say the culprit was the President of the United States, Ronald—an imperialist who looked down on the Association and believed all power should revolve around the U.S. Sung didn’t hold back in criticizing him.

He trusted Kang Geom-Ma enough to share that and felt he had every right to know the meeting’s details. Also, he’d been dying to vent about Ronald.

‘That pig dared to openly humiliate the vice president…?’

That’s how it started. After hearing the account, Kang Geom-Ma hardened his expression and headed straight for the meeting room. Media, surprised, followed but couldn’t catch up.

“Pant… pant… Since when is Mr. Heavenly Sword so fast?”

Everyone knew about his speed, but only when wielding his sashimi. Now, just running, he was so fast sparks trailed in his wake.

Still, Sung and Media chased him the best they could. Finally, when they reached the meeting room one after another, the first thing that greeted them was a dense, heavy air. It was the lingering trace of the murderous aura Kang Geom-Ma had unleashed upon entering.

Sung didn’t faint only thanks to prior experience. Humans are creatures of habit, after all.

As he caught his ragged breath, he looked up… and froze.

“……!”

The first thing he saw was President Ronald, with his temple and cheek pressed against the table, tongue hanging from his mouth. A grotesque sight.

Wait… Is he dead? Or just unconscious? Right? Please, just unconscious.

Media rushed forward and approached Ronald. She tapped his shin with the tip of her shoe. No response. She leaned in to listen. No breathing. No signs of life.

She stepped back and shook her head silently, like a doctor declaring a death.

“We’re screwed.”

Director Sung muttered. A cheap Korean curse echoed in the minds of all the leaders present. Korean was a universal language—everyone understood it.

Sung looked at Changseong, sitting calmly in the distance. Seeing his shocked expression, he sighed.

“Is he dead?”

“I don’t know, but his heart stopped.”

Media replied, biting her lip.

“H-his heart stopped doesn’t that mean he’s dead?”

Sung’s face turned pale. The same happened to the others.

“It’s not the same as clinical death. A cardiac arrest can be reversed if treated within the golden hour with a defibrillator. The problem is, that device is on the first floor, and we’re on the twelfth. It won’t get here in time.”

“That’s a problem.”

Changseong scratched his beard uncomfortably, though he didn’t seem too concerned.

“If a head of state dies in the middle of a summit, we’re in for a major mess. Even if it was just a heart attack, the public impression won’t change. Also, that Yankee pig—I mean, President Ronald—is a major shareholder in Lancelot Company. Without him, getting support from hero agencies could become difficult.”

That’s why Changseong had been restraining himself. But now it didn’t matter.

Step.

Until then, Kang Geom-Ma had remained silent.

Suddenly, he stepped forward toward Ronald. Before touching him, he looked at Changseong.

“You said saving this Yankee would be most beneficial, right?”

“It’s not very ethical to weigh a person’s life, but yes, it is.”

As he spoke, Changseong glanced at Ronald. His pupils, pointing in different directions, showed signs of decomposition.

“But seeing those eyes, it’s too late to save him.”

“We won’t know until we try.”

“Huh? What do you mean…?”

Changseong blinked, then his eyes widened. The others reacted similarly.

The meeting room, which until then had only dim lighting, suddenly lit up. Blue electric sparks jumped across the floor and walls.

Crackle!

Everyone stared at Kang Geom-Ma in stunned silence. For a moment, no one could speak. Then, they shielded their eyes.

It was blinding. His right hand emitted a light so intense it burned into their retinas.

Is that a blessing…? Isn’t that magic?

Kang Geom-Ma grabbed Ronald by the neck. An even more powerful bolt of lightning erupted. Beyond blinding, the light seemed capable of rendering one blind. Everyone shut their eyes.

Flash!

The room, tinted white for an instant, slowly regained its color. Then, a groan was heard.

Everyone opened their eyes wide. Through their still-blurred vision, they saw Ronald groaning, holding his forehead.

“…What… what is this?”

Ronald was disoriented. As if someone had snipped and randomly pasted his consciousness, past and present events were completely jumbled. When he raised his head, he flinched.

Heavenly Sword was staring straight at him. In the dark shadow cast by the emergency lights, his black eyes shone intensely.

“What’s it like, dying and coming back?”

Heavenly Sword spoke in a low voice. No formality. No trace of respect for the President of the United States.

“That’s what heroes feel every second they charge into battle. While garbage like you cut steak at fancy restaurants and drown in wine.”

His eyes scanned the wine glasses lined up on the round table.

At that moment, all of them shattered at once, shards flying through the air.

While he was at it, he also directed his killing aura toward the bottled mineral water. The plastic crumpled like dry rags.

“If you come to Korea, drink Yeongchangsu. Haven’t you heard? ‘Ours is the best.’”

Ronald’s face went pale as a corpse. Even more than when he was near death moments ago.

Heavenly Sword spoke again.

“Still, out of respect for the people who chose you as president, I’ll spare your life.”

“…”

“Am I talking to myself?”

“T-thank you for your mercy, Lord Heavenly Sword.”

“By the way, all that nonsense you spouted earlier was recorded. I’ll release it everywhere once the war ends, just so you know.”

“That’s a bit…”

Heavenly Sword fiercely furrowed his brow.

“What? Missing the afterlife already? Speak. Killing is easier than saving for me. But choose your words carefully. They might be your last.”

“I’m sorry…”

Heavenly Sword kicked a chair leg and nodded toward a corner of the room.

“Then go over there, raise your hand, and stay standing.”

“Yes, sir…”

Ronald walked away with his head hung low. Everyone watched him go, no one daring to stop or comfort him.

He knelt down, raised one hand in the air, and lowered his head like a criminal. His suit wrinkled horribly. Tears as large as raindrops streamed down his cheeks, consumed by shame.

Heavenly Sword reclined in the chair Ronald had occupied, crossing his legs with arrogance.

After the storm, the room fell silent.

Heavenly Sword had silenced the foreign press with force, and with his overwhelming presence, had dominated the leaders of every nation. It all happened in the blink of an eye, as if time had flowed naturally.

By extension, his silent pressure caused the heads of state to swallow their saliva instead of sipping luxury water. These greedy adults, seasoned by age, were cowed—by a mere eighteen-year-old boy.

“Let’s begin the real meeting.”

In this room, Heavenly Sword was practically a tyrant. But under certain circumstances, a tyrant is exactly what’s needed. And this was one of those times.

“As I said earlier, if anyone has objections, raise your hand.”

Until the meeting ended, no one raised a hand.

Thus, the meeting originally scheduled for five hours was wrapped up in just three.

***

“One moment, Kojima.”

Changseong called out to Kojima, who was about to leave the room.

“…What is it?”

He answered without turning around. Changseong smiled with mild awkwardness.

“Well, I just wanted to thank you for today. If it hadn’t been for you, everything would’ve tilted toward that damned Yankee.”

“I only spoke up because what he was saying was so absurd. I didn’t expect any thanks from the senior.”

Changseong’s smile deepened. What an ungracious guy.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You want to know why I changed my attitude so suddenly?”

“You’re sharp.”

“Obviously, it was for me and for Japan. Even if others don’t get it, I know what it means to go up against a Corps Commander. ‘Every man for himself’? If we go that route, humanity won’t last half a day.”

“What I want to know is if that was the only reason. That’s the real question.”

“Do I have to answer that too?”

Changseong shrugged lightly.

“It’s your call, but when else would we get a chance to talk like this? If war breaks out, one of us—maybe both—might die.”

“…”

Kojima stood still, staring upward. His snow-white crown was clearly visible.

“While I was in the hospital after Heavenly Sword stabbed me, I had a lot of time. It was the first time I ever wasted time like a slacker. Since my wife Alice died, I buried myself blindly in work.”

As he gazed at the ceiling, Kojima confessed.

“During that time, I reflected on myself and on Alice. I asked myself why I’d clung to her so much. That was the first doubt. Then, suddenly, I understood. The reason I loved her.”

He lowered his gaze and looked slowly at Changseong. His sky-blue irises shone with the same vitality they had in his cadet days.

“…It was her conviction. ‘To shoulder the burdens of others.’ I always admired that principle. Because I could never be like that. Maybe that’s why I obsessed over her so much. An obsession disguised as love. Pathetic, isn’t it?”

Saki Kojima said this with difficulty.

“I’m over sixty, but I’m still a pitiful human being. Alice, on the other hand, died in her early twenties, and yet she was far more mature than I ever was.”

“…”

“So now that the great war is about to begin, even if it’s late, I want to try becoming an adult. Only then will I feel I’ve earned the right to see her again.”

Kojima let out a dry laugh halfway through his story, then shook his head.

“I must be senile. Me, telling all this to an old geezer like Mura, who I used to argue with non-stop? Getting old is scary.”

“We’re both stubborn old men, aren’t we?”

Changseong grinned widely.

“I turn seventy the day after tomorrow. I probably won’t even remember this chat by tomorrow. Don’t worry.”

“Looks like you’ve aged too. In your younger days, you were completely reckless. Look at you now.”

And despite his words, Kojima softly lifted one corner of his lips.