Suho put up a large number of what, by his own standards, were S-rank failures and A-rank trash on the global OnTower auction house.
There were hundreds of S-rank items alone, and a slightly smaller number of A-rank ones, though of course he didn’t list them all at once.
After all, high-ranking Admittees with money were limited in number, and if he put up too many, there wouldn’t be enough competition in the auctions.
So what he chose was 20 S-rank items and 30 A-rank items.
As expected, the auction house was turned upside down, and countless Admittees, clans, and corporations flocked in like clouds to participate in the live auction.
Once he actually listed them, however, he realized that just because something was an S-rank item didn’t mean it would automatically bring in a huge amount of money.
Various factors—the recent market atmosphere, the tendencies and preferences of the current buyer groups, the financial situations of the big spenders, the recent patterns of threats appearing in the Tower, and so on—worked together in complex ways, causing item prices to jump all over the place. Because of that, items that had sold for high prices in the past sometimes dropped to relatively cheap prices, while items that had previously been ignored suddenly rose sharply in value.
Suho had only listed things he was going to throw away anyway, and he hadn’t gone through any detailed market analysis beforehand, so the profits from each item varied wildly.
Among the S-rank items, some were disposed of very cheaply, being won for 6 million points—about 60 billion won—while the ones that sold well went for over 300 million points, exceeding 3 trillion won.
Either way, it was pocket change to him now, but tens of billions of points began piling up in Suho’s account at the OnTower auction house.
What drew the world’s attention even more seriously than the item sales was the sale of “Blacksteel.”
He set the price extremely, extremely cheaply at around 1 billion won per kilogram and began selling it, and orders truly came flooding in.
Among the production and support-type Admittees who crafted high-grade equipment, blacksmiths in particular rushed to submit applications ahead of everyone else, while countless clans, combat-type Admittees, ordinary corporations, and even research institutes expressed interest in purchasing it.
Selling Blacksteel was a business that guaranteed around 1 trillion won in profit per ton, and the applications already received alone exceeded hundreds of tons.
“Wow... everyone’s loaded. When you see stuff like this, all that talk about the economy being bad is total nonsense.”
Seongsik clicked his tongue as he looked over the list of thousands of applications.
“Well, it’s good if everyone gets upgraded. Thanks to the spread of Blacksteel, not just Admittee equipment, but the whole world will be upgraded.”
Suho took it positively.
Even if Blacksteel wasn’t the greatest metal in the universe, it was still true that it was harder than any metal that had existed on Earth until now.
The more good things, the better.
The free Blacksteel he could officially sell up to 13.9 billion tons of was earning him 1 trillion won per ton, so it was truly no different from free cash pouring in.
On the other hand, he was also curious about what kind of changes would occur once Blacksteel began entering people’s hands and circulating in large quantities.
He thought he might be able to watch the process: what kinds of people would attach themselves to that enormous amount of material, how many would carry out dismantling work and conduct research, how it would be processed and released, and how it would end up in the hands of clans and individual Admittees, as well as ordinary people through corporations and factories.
That also seemed likely to serve as good teaching material for when Suho eventually circulated the vast resources of Cheonyangwon, so it was an important point.
* * *
“Hyung! Fancy seeing you here!”
“Come on over. Let’s eat together.”
On the 8th floor of Elysium Heights, in a casual dining hall where one could quickly have a meal, Suho was eating something simple when he happened to run into Jiho.
“The house is so huge, the family never gets to run into each other!”
“That’s why we made a family gathering time.”
“I guess so. Hyung, what are you eating?”
“Me? Just soft tofu stew?”
“Oh, I should order that too.”
Jiho trotted off to order, then sat down across from Suho and asked,
“Hyung, did you hear?”
“Hear what?”
“Japan. The 92nd-floor Tower.”
“Yeah, it keeps coming up on the news.”
Just as Jiho said, another Tower had risen recently.
A 92nd-floor Tower that rose in Japan.
The media kept reporting on the 92nd-floor Tower, and people grew increasingly anxious about the reality that the appearance of high-level Towers was gradually becoming normalized.
A 92nd-floor Tower required 18 S-ranks, and Japan currently had 26 S-ranks.
Since it seemed like Japan’s own S-ranks would be enough, Suho wasn’t too worried either. However, the news he heard through Jiho was the exact opposite.
“Over there, they still haven’t formed a team.”
“Huh? Why? Japan has plenty of S-ranks. More than twice as many as us, so why?”
“That’s true, but apparently a lot of S-ranks are already tied up because they’re in the middle of raids, and there are also a lot of Admittees who don’t want to go.”
“Damn... It’s their own country’s Tower. What do they plan to do if they don’t go?”
“Exactly. Since it’s such a high Tower, it must be that dangerous and unsettling. I checked the Japanese sites I visit often and watched some Japanese broadcasts, and the atmosphere over there is no joke.”
Now that he thought about it, that made sense.
A 92nd-floor Tower that required 18 people.
In truth, if even a few of the 26 S-ranks were unavailable, the required raid numbers became precarious.
“The experts say it probably won’t be easy to recruit from overseas.”
“Probably not... We’ve already experienced that ourselves. Hmm...”
Just as the multinational allied S-rank team raiding the domestic 83rd-floor Tower had requested when they temporarily exited last time...
He began to think that perhaps founding a clan really might be necessary.
* * *
The amount of Etherium each country had agreed to purchase from Suho was so vast that, in many cases, it was difficult to deliver it all in a single visit.
Not because there was any limit to what Suho could give, but because the receiving side had failed to secure enough spacious, sufficiently secure storage.
The United States was no exception.
They had said they would buy a total of ten years’ worth, so after signing the contract, Suho visited America once to deliver three years’ worth, then stopped by again to deliver another two years’ worth.
And on his second visit to deliver the E-rank Etherium, he received a dinner invitation from the White House.
He was busy and found it troublesome, but since he had come all this way, he figured he should at least eat dinner before leaving, so he accepted. Besides, he felt it might look bad if he refused for no reason.
Thududududududu───
Marine One, the U.S. president’s official helicopter sent by the White House for protocol, descended precisely onto a temporary landing zone set up not far away.
When the helicopter door opened, Secret Service agents quickly and efficiently stepped out, secured the area, and waited respectfully for Suho.
One agent approached and said politely,
“Admittee Jeong Suho, it is an honor to escort you. We have come to bring you to the White House. The president has specially prepared this helicopter in order to express his gratitude for your heroic achievements.”
“Yes, let’s go.”
Once Suho boarded the helicopter, the door slowly closed, and it rose into the sky again.
Throughout the flight to the White House, the only thing Suho thought about was the inconvenience of helicopters as a means of transportation.
Noisy, vulnerable in terms of defense, poor ride comfort, and slow on top of that...
Wondering why wealthy people still insisted on helicopters, he looked down out the window.
A short while later, the place Suho was guided to was the East Wing of the White House.
It was quite a grand space.
The dinner was attended by U.S. President Derek Monroe, the Secretary of Defense, the Secretary of State, the National Security Advisor, other high-ranking officials, and even the heads of super-large clans.
New England-style lobster salad, Chaldny South Carolina-style crab soup, prime ribeye steak, herb-roasted salmon, roasted duck breast with cherry glaze...
A great many fascinating dishes that were hard to find in Korea were served.
They were surely dishes carefully prepared by the finest chefs using the highest-quality ingredients and culinary techniques... but Suho’s impression was only so-so.
They were interesting, but just because a dish was interesting didn’t mean it would suit his palate.
He liked the familiar dishes made by the chefs at home a hundred times more.
“How is it? Is it to your taste?”
“Yes, well, it’s delicious.”
After giving an insincere impression and finishing the meal, he listened to the hosts’ words of thanks and encouragement and the like.
They took official commemorative photos, and after spending some time in unofficial socializing while listening to musical performances, the sun had set before he knew it.
Around the time all those exhausting procedures had finally passed, U.S. President Derek Monroe requested some time for a more personal conversation.
‘There’s still more to say?!’
Suho was horrified, but with superhuman patience, he lifted the corners of his mouth and agreed.
Derek Monroe led Suho to the White House Rose Garden and lightly suggested they take a walk.
He went on for a while about the history and beauty of the Rose Garden, but in Suho’s eyes, it wasn’t as good as the park surrounding his own Elysium Heights.
‘Still, Westerners really are different.’
Watching the eyebrows that perked up at every opportunity, the rich expressions, and the distinctive gestures, Suho felt as though he himself were a block of wood.
“Let’s sit for a bit.”
Derek Monroe sat first on a long bench in the garden, and Suho sat beside him.
After silently gazing for a moment at the star-filled sky, the U.S. president spoke first.
“What is it like? The life of a transcendent being?”
“Pardon? What do you mean, what is it like?”
“I’m asking whether you are satisfied with a life in which you possess transcendent abilities no one else in the world has, as well as wealth, honor, and power—all of it.”
“Well... It’s all pretty much the same.”
Derek Monroe stared at Suho as if he had expected that, then asked again.
“By any chance... do you feel empty... or anything like that?”
At that moment, Suho was startled.
His abilities, wealth, and fame were already well known, so that much was understandable, but how did he know about the emptiness?
Feeling understood for the first time, Suho briefly told him about the hollow emotions he had been experiencing.
At that, Derek Monroe smiled gently.
“What kind of process do you think I went through... to reach this position as President of the United States?”
“I’m not sure...”
Suho himself had suddenly received Cheonyangwon from the Administrator of the Universe and had his life turned 180 degrees around, but what kind of process did an ordinary person born into the world go through to become President of the United States? It was difficult for Suho even to imagine.
As if to teach him the answer, Derek Monroe slowly began to explain.
“It is complex. Studying and working yourself to death from childhood is the default. That much is the same for everyone, so there is no point in boasting about it. More than anything, you must make good judgments. Because when the time comes to place a bet, you have to know how to make a major decision. You also have to choose the right side. But do you know what is more important than all of that? It is luck. Luck. Above all else, luck has to be on your side. Even if you have everything else, if luck does not follow you, ultimately nothing comes of it.”
Suho pricked up his ears at the story he was telling.
“In the end, you work hard, challenge yourself, struggle, rely on luck... and that is how you come this far. Even so, being President of the United States is, in many ways, one of the highest positions in the world, is it not? They say that after money, what a rich person wants is honor, and after honor, what a person craves next is power.”
Thinking that was true, Suho slowly nodded.
“So, what do you think I feel now, sitting in this position? Do you think I am the most satisfied and happiest man in the world?
Or do you think I feel it is the most meaningful and rewarding thing in the world?”
Whether it was acting or sincere, Derek Monroe wore an expression filled with regret.
“None of the above. Strangely enough, from this position, I ended up facing myself again as nothing more than a fragile human being... and I realized that there is nothing here. It is nothing special. Even after coming this far, it is insignificant. That is what I came to feel.”
The more Suho listened to him, the more he felt his heart opening.
Because Derek Monroe was wrestling with the same concerns Suho had thought only he possessed.
It was undoubtedly the first time. Suho felt that, for the first time, he had met someone who could sympathize with his situation.
He had thought that perhaps, someday, he might be able to reveal to someone the secret of Cheonyangwon and the secret of his awakening as an EX-rank Crafter, and he even found himself thinking, ‘Could today be that day?’ as warmth spread through his heart.
Yes, something more precious than Cheonyangwon.
He realized anew that it was people, relationships, and sincere empathy.
After that, Derek Monroe took his time and went on about the trivial stories of his childhood.
And even the slightly puzzling claim that he had been happier and more satisfied back then. In any case, it was true that Suho had felt drawn to him, glimpsing something genuinely human in the man.
“A pity.”
“What is?”
“If Guardian Admity Suho had been a little closer, we could have met often and shared more of these things.”
He sounded regretful. In fact, up until then, Suho had been sincerely regretful as well.
With his heart wide open and filled with pure curiosity, Suho asked Derek Monroe,
“So, Mr. President, what goals and pleasures are you living for now? How are you managing that sense of emptiness?”
“Hoho, I live by setting goals of my own. Modest goals, in their own way. Without them, I found I couldn’t go on living.”
“That’s true. Goals are incredibly important. If it isn’t rude of me to ask, may I ask what kind of goal you have?”
“Of course. There’s nothing I cannot tell you. The goal I am holding on to now is a mission. A mission to make the United States of America a more stable and more prosperous nation.”
Suho suddenly felt his mood shatter.
Something felt off.
A man who said all things in the world were empty had latched onto patriotism and a sense of mission as his goal.
It felt as though a few steps in the middle had been skipped.
Suho asked again, his voice somewhat stiff now.
“So... if there is one thing you most want to do to make America more prosperous, what would that be?”
The temperature of Suho’s voice had changed, but perhaps believing the deal was already done, Derek Monroe failed to notice.
“I wish to bring many outstanding talents like you, Suho, to this country.”
Suho’s mood went cold.
It had been a show all along. The way this man had seemed to understand Suho had been a mask, a deception.
A ploy to show his human side, draw Suho in, and have him naturalize.
He had never been satisfied with anything. He was still merely desiring, still aiming higher.
He had never come anywhere near true emptiness. And yet he had pretended to understand him. Just thinking about it made Suho angry.
Suho rose from his seat and spoke in a stern voice.
“Unfortunately, that won’t do. I have no intention of leaving the Republic of Korea.”
Only then did Derek Monroe notice the change in Suho’s attitude. A flicker of dismay passed through his eyes, but as befitted a seasoned politician, he recovered his composure in an instant.
Unlike before, Derek Monroe rose after Suho with a faint, fishy smile and asked,
“Is there a reason you insist on that tiny country?”
Suho threw the words right back at him.
“Well, what I’m more curious about is this: why do you keep trying to recruit me when you have absolutely nothing to offer?”
“Ahem...”
The President of the United States sharply furrowed his brow, openly showing his displeasure.
“No matter how strong you are, no matter how much you possess, an individual is still only an individual. Individuals have limits.”
“That depends on the individual.”
Suho replied coldly, but as if he found Suho’s reaction cute, Derek let out a small laugh and spoke in a low voice.
“Every individual has a limit. For example... among the people invited today are many famous clans. Just around this park alone, there are at least five S-rank Admities on standby, and more than twenty A-rank Admities. Not to mention countless special forces and bodyguards. Even if you were an S-rank combat Admity, could you withstand such force? And if something were to happen to you, I wonder what that tiny country you insist on could possibly do for you. File a complaint with the International Court of Justice, perhaps? Or they might make some noise at the UN.”
Ha...
What a pathetic threat.
Feeling the last thread of his patience snap in his head, Suho irritably swept his hair back.
Then he exhaled and spoke quietly.
“How pathetic. Even as the President of the United States, you resort to threats? What can I do, you ask? I can erase America completely from the map in under a second. And then I can leisurely disappear as if I was never here at all.”
At those words, Derek Monroe’s eyes went round, and he burst into loud laughter.
“Hahahaha!! Your spirit, at least, is extraordinary. As expected of the world’s hero. Hahaha!”
“Spirit? I’m not joking.”
“Hahahaha, enough. If you thought those words would make me nervous, you are gravely mistaken.”
“Your arrogance is something else. Where do you think I pull Etherium—those tens of millions of tons of Etherium—from? And Nightfera, that meteorite—what exactly do you think I did with it?”
“Ahem... well, that is...”
“Did it never occur to you that if I can put something away, I can take it back out? Why do you think Kim Jeong-heum’s Yongchang residence suddenly vanished? Why do you think an unprecedented earthquake occurred at the OAE headquarters?”
Only then did something seem to occur to the President of the United States, Derek Monroe, and his pupils trembled.
Suho gestured to the president and pointed at the dark night sky.
“Watch carefully. I’ll give Nightfera back to you.”
At the far end of Derek Monroe’s gaze,
Gooooooo──────
a mass of iron could be seen plummeting fiercely.
“Hah! Th-this... this, this, this...! S-stop!”
It nearly collided with the ground, but vanished again just before impact.
No trace of an arrogant expression or composed tone remained in Derek Monroe.
Looking back at the man breaking out in a cold sweat, Suho said icily,
“It’s a mystery how you made it to that position with such poor instincts, intelligence, and judgment. Did you just get lucky and become president? Don’t get cocky. You people still haven’t apologized for being rude when you sent agents to me before. Do you even remember?”
Derek Monroe’s face grew paler and paler.
“You’d better treat me well, and Korea too. Not just well—bow and scrape, got it? If I get pissed off, I’ll confiscate all the E-rank Etherium and return Nightfera to you instead, falling from the sky.”
There was no longer any reason to remain in this shabby park.
Suho strode past him and said,
“Ah, fuck, you ruined my mood. The food wasn’t great either. What I eat at home tastes better. This is the price for annoying me in various ways. America gets no nuclear waste disposal, so deal with it on your own. And starting from the next third shipment, I’ll be charging double for the E-rank Etherium too, so get the money ready yourselves. If you don’t like it, fuck it, scrap all your ether power generation and go back to running only nuclear plants. Anyway, take care. I’m leaving.”
Ssssst—
Though Suho had clearly arrived by ceremonial helicopter, he simply vanished from the spot without a trace.
The president stood there dumbly, his mouth opening and closing.
“...I’m screwed...”
That was the one thought in his head.