MCRP 114

Chapter 114 Hardline Measures (3)

One week later.

A conference room located in Jongno.

The door to the spacious waiting room opened.

Standing inside with an attendant was a man so round and massive that he instantly brought to mind a giant balloon.

“Please wait here, Branch Director,” the attendant said.

“Hmph, not even a single snack in the waiting room,” the Branch Director muttered.

“Shall I prepare some?”

“No need. It’s not like we’ll be here long.”

The Korean Branch Director of the Foundation, Ham Hyung-tae, sat down and lazily adjusted his clothing.

“Anyway… to think that merely poking at them would provoke such a fast response.”

He knew full well that he was executing a hardline policy. Resistance was something he had expected.

“You were right, Congressman.”

“Eh? What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

Ham Hyung-tae smirked.

At least one of our people should be in headquarters. Director Ham… your role is going to become even bigger from now on.
Congressman…!

Hail Hwan, a political heavyweight who could practically dominate the National Assembly, was backing him.

How long would I stay confined to this narrow Korean land?

If he could reach the executive level at headquarters, he would do whatever it took.

If he could control the chaotic Korean branch, the main office would surely take notice.

If Hail Hwan—the Korean government—was behind him, negotiating with the reactionaries wouldn’t be so difficult.

If they don’t listen, just cut them off.

Trimming rotten branches causes little loss. In fact, removing them allows the other branches to grow stronger.

“Director, it’s time to go,” the attendant said, handing over an overcoat.

Just as Ham Hyung-tae reached for it—

Thud—!

“Gah…?!”

A blade pierced the attendant’s neck, splattering red blood across the Director’s face.

“What… what is this?!”

In an instant, a crimson aura-like curtain spread around, swallowing all sound and leaving a heavy, muffled silence.

Shashashak—

Assassins clad in black, their faces masked, surrounded him.

“Target secured. Eliminate.”

Sleeng—

The black figures gripped their swords tightly.

Ham Hyung-tae wiped the blood off his face, wearing a look of amusement.

“Only seven? Did you really think you could take me down with so few? You must have seriously underestimated me.”

Thud—!

His body stiffened, radiating an overwhelming weight. Even though he had stepped back from the frontlines, his position as branch director wasn’t due to mere luck.

He lowered his head and took a massive step forward.

[Geumgang Bulkwae (Indestructible Diamond)]

Bang—!!

The floor shook violently as an immense shockwave slammed into the assassins.

Those who barely dodged the attack left deep cracks on the ground.

“Ugh…”

Assassins who failed to evade were thrown against the walls, moaning in pain as if their bones had shattered, unable to move.

A massive frame with rock-hard skin and incredible strength. The sheer presence of Ham Hyung-tae even seemed to disturb the air around him.

He bent his body again, pushing off the floor as he charged.

Kwaaaaa—!!!!

Using his enormous weight and strength, he barreled through the assassins, unleashing a powerful shockwave.

“Overwhelm them!!!”

Pababat—!!

The assassins charged simultaneously, raising their swords.

But—

Kaang—!

“The swords…?!”

Even without armor, the blades couldn’t pierce his skin. The swords themselves suffered chips instead.

“Hold your formation! Don’t falter!”

Shashak—

The assassins took a step back, reforming a circle around Ham Hyung-tae. They kept their distance, seemingly waiting for something.

Soon—

Pajijijik—!

A red current surged over Ham Hyung-tae’s body as he broke through a wall. The red barrier thickened, the space around him felt distorted and heavy, slowing his movements.

“What… is this…?”

“Finally, the Silent Array has taken effect.”

He realized. The barrier wasn’t just blocking sound—it was suppressing and absorbing his astral energy.

“Using such pathetic tricks…!”

He stomped and moved, but his motions were severely slowed.

Thud—!

“Kugh!!”

His once-impervious skin now allowed the strikes. Blood flowed as Ham Hyung-tae collapsed, just like the attendant before him.

“Now! Drive everything in!”

Thud—!

Poo-boo-buk—!

Even his last resistance failed.

“It’s useless.”

One of the assassins produced an object from within their clothing: an octagonal bronze mirror.

Its ominous aura seemed to siphon every last bit of Ham Hyung-tae’s astral energy.

“Ugh… I…”

“Don’t blame yourself. You were only in that position because you shouldn’t have been.”

Kwa-deuk—!

The assassins twisted the blade lodged in him. Ham Hyung-tae’s breath finally ceased.

“I didn’t think it would actually work…”

The assassin smiled, pocketing the bronze mirror.

“Exactly as Congressman Dah did say.”

Conference Room, Main Hall

The room was long, tables arranged in a semi-circle resembling the National Assembly hall. Dozens of people were seated.

“That’s a lot. These people usually don’t gather like this.”

“Of course, since they’re directly affected.”

Se-hyun hung his ID badge around his neck and sat with Seong-cheol.

Chatter filled the room, but most were on edge.

“Have we ever gathered like this before?”

“Considering recent events, it’s not surprising.”

“Strengthening management, reviewing… what exactly are they planning?”

Voices of discontent emerged from all corners. Some nervously bit their nails, others scribbled furiously.

Se-hyun shook his head, observing the scene.

“Pointless.”

“Pointless? What do you mean?”

“This meeting is probably just for show.”

A few shared Se-hyun’s sentiment. People appeared relaxed at first glance, but it was closer to resignation.

“This isn’t a place to share opinions, it’s more like a declaration of war.”

The Foundation didn’t seem likely to back down easily. If it were that simple, they wouldn’t have even started.

“Maybe they don’t care about Korea at all.”

The new branch director had bigger political ambitions. Complaining wouldn’t reach them.

“Then why are we here? If it’s just a waste of time…”

“I said I wanted to see what they would say.”

Even if they couldn’t communicate, at least one could gauge their thoughts and intentions.

Hardline measures and this meeting—these hadn’t existed in the previous life.

If it weren’t for my involvement, I’d ignore it—but leaving it alone would be too damaging.

He had just started operations. The funds for soul stones alone were enormous; building the distribution lines had consumed all investment. The factory in Atlantis would face astronomical losses if not operated immediately.

“How do they plan to handle these complaints?”

Se-hyun sighed, scanning the community representatives.

“Hmm?”

Then, one person caught his eye.

“Why is he here…?”

Someone he never expected, a player, was seated nearby.

Se-hyun approached him.

“Master Jukjang… is that you?”

“Hmm? Se-hyun! What are you doing here?”

“And you, Master, are a player?”

“Ha… fate is cruel. How did we end up on this thorny path?”

Han Seok-jung, Jukjang—the bamboo arrow artisan. One of the masters at the workshop village where Se-hyun and Inha lived.

“Your grandfather was the previous leader of Baekwoon?”

“Maybe even the one before that. It’s been 30 years.”

Thirty years ago, he led the Baekwoon community in Jeolla Province. Now seventy, he retired and moved to Seoul to train apprentices.

Se-hyun recalled the skill with which he handled bamboo at the village—arrows perfectly aligned, a product of mastery. Not just a craftsman, but a player’s skill.

“But that’s past. I’m only here to take a request, listen, and report back. By the way…”

He glanced around, worry on his face.

“What do you think of the current situation?”

“Me?”

“I’m just an old man in the back, don’t know much.”

“Master, really… what are you saying?”

It felt awkward to hear this from the old man who once handed them snacks as children.

“Perhaps it’s time to unite.”

“Eh? What do you mean?”

“You know communities have mostly gone their own way. Cooperation has been rare. It’s in their nature.”

Players were rightly compared to stars: each with their own world, isolated.

“Stars form galaxies… the communities, but that alone won’t suffice anymore.”

He didn’t coin the metaphor—Hail Hwan used it to gather reluctant communities during the Apocalypse. Se-hyun had adopted it.

Ugh, stop thinking about it.

The old man nodded slowly.

“I agree. Baekwoon thinks the same.”

“Baekwoon?”

“They participated actively, even though Hallasan hosted this meeting.”

Baekwoon, a mostly secluded community in Baekwoon Mountain, had moved only this once.

Until now, communities under the Foundation maintained independent coexistence.

“Back in my active days, I initiated the diplomacy of the Three Provinces, creating the Three Provinces Command Network.”

“You made it, Master?”

“Made is too strong a word… I just set the stage.”

Even though the Three Provinces Command was symbolic, this was the first time it actively led something.

“You’re right—they realized they can’t just stay in their own regions.”

Now, the previously isolated groups had joined hands against an external enemy.

Yes. Unintended, but such unity is necessary.

To confront Hail Hwan, they had to unite. Perhaps this ordeal was a blessing in disguise.

Time passed as they spoke.

“I’ll head back now, Master. I’ll visit later.”

“Do. Make sure Inha comes with you.”

“Yes.”

Se-hyun bowed and returned.

The chatter grew as the meeting showed no sign of starting.

Then—

Ku-gu-gu—

The building trembled, dust falling from the ceiling.

“What? What’s that sound?”

“An earthquake?”

Experienced community leaders immediately became alert.

Just then, a broadcast came:

[Attention all community representatives: preparation for the meeting is delayed. The session will begin in 30 minutes. Please remain seated and wait.]

“What? Wait longer?”

“We came all this way! This is ridiculous!”

Voices of complaint erupted, reflecting distrust toward the Foundation since the “12/3 Emergency Assembly” incident.

“Tch. I was foolish to listen to them.”

“Wait! That doesn’t mean we should leave…”

“It’s a waste of time! Better handle the aftermath instead.”

A few representatives rose, heading toward the door.

Se-hyun sensed something odd—more like déjà vu.

The moment one representative touched the door handle—

Pajijijik—!

A red current electrocuted him. He fell without a scream.

A nearby person frantically checked his pulse.