章 13: Chapter 11: Successor
The funeral of the powerful and wealthy Master Zu was held in utmost secrecy, with only a select few aware of the event. Among the attendees were Manager Kim and his group, their presence immediately drawing attention as they entered the solemn venue.
They were greeted by Executive Director Xujin Qian, who carried himself with the burden of responsibility in these turbulent times.
"I am Director Xujin Qian, in charge of the overall operations of Tian Wai Tian Group," he introduced himself, his tone calm but laced with urgency.
Tom Lee, ever the one to break tension, casually eyed him. "I see... so you're kind of the boss. Let's guess—probably fifth in the hierarchy?" His words were laced with an amused smirk, but the underlying sharpness was unmistakable.
Xujin Qian maintained his composure. "I'm sorry, but we don't have much time. The Tian Wai Tian Group is in crisis after the death of Master Zu. Though we're holding this funeral in Korean style, the situation remains unfavorable."
With a gesture toward the hall, he added, "Without further ado, let's head in—"
Before he could finish, the air shifted abruptly. Everyone's attention was drawn to two men approaching from the distance, their presence sending an unspoken ripple through the crowd.
The first man was a towering figure, standing at an imposing 6'7". Dressed in a sharp, dark suit that concealed hidden weapons, his lean, muscular build was evident beneath the tailored fabric. His sharp features—high cheekbones, a chiseled jawline shadowed by faint stubble—exuded danger. His tousled dark hair framed intense, almond-shaped eyes that seemed to take in everything around him with a calculated calm.
However, it was the second man who commanded all the attention. Standing slightly shorter at 6'5", he carried an aura of quiet authority that was impossible to ignore. Handsome with an athletic build, his slicked-back hair and sharp black eyes gave him a polished yet intimidating presence. Dressed in a black coat over a grey suit, his cold, calm gaze seemed to pierce through the atmosphere, making everyone's focus shift to him instinctively.
As they approached, Michael was the first to speak, breaking the silence. "It's been a while, hasn't it, everyone?"
Tom Lee grinned as he stepped forward, his hulking frame towering over most of the people present. But before he could close the distance, Oliver—though shorter than Tom—calmly stepped in front of him, his cold eyes locking onto the larger man with a silent warning.
"It's okay," Michael said smoothly, waving his hand. Oliver stepped aside without a word, and Tom Lee moved forward, his smile widening.
"It's been a while. I haven't seen you since that fight," Tom said, his grin stretching even wider, a hint of challenge lingering in his words.
Michael smiled faintly in response. "Yes, it's been a long time, you gorilla."
Tom let out a low laugh, clearly amused. His size and brute force were often compared to that of a beast, but the comment only seemed to amuse him further.
Executive Director Xujin Qian, watching the exchange, seized the moment and bowed deeply to Michael. "Thank you for coming, Mr. Kang."
Michael, his demeanor shifting back to business, gave a slight nod. "No problem. Zu was someone I was indebted to."
With that, the group moved forward, entering the funeral hall to pay their respects. The atmosphere was thick with solemnity as they approached the altar where Master Zu's portrait stood, illuminated by the soft glow of candles. Michael paused in front of the portrait, his eyes lingering on the man's image, reflecting on the history they shared.
He turned slightly to Oliver. "The drink Master Zu loved."
Oliver, always prepared, handed him a bottle of Baijiu. Michael uncapped it, took a small sip in a quiet, personal toast, and placed the bottle beside the portrait. He then bowed deeply, his thoughts heavy as he paid his final respects.
Thank you for everything, Master Zu, he thought solemnly. May you rest in peace.
As he straightened up, the gravity of the moment settled in the room. There was unfinished business, tensions to be resolved, but for now, in this quiet moment, Michael let his respect for the man who had once been a significant figure in his life shine through in his silent farewell.
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As Director Xujin hastily urges Manager Kim, saying, "Let's get moving right away. From management to subsidiaries, the successor has a lot to commit to," the gravity of the situation is palpable. But Manager Kim, ever the strategist, cuts through the surface-level urgency with a serious tone, grabbing Xujin's shoulder firmly.
"Alright, I understand my duty as a successor, but let me ask you one thing: where is the original successor?" Manager Kim's words hang in the air, cutting through Xujin's attempt at control. His grip tightens, demanding the truth.
Director Xujin stammers, caught off guard. "Wh-what do you mean? It was clearly stated in the will that—"
Before he can finish, Manager Kim's voice hardens. "It should be written in the will that I am not the first successor." His eyes narrow, locking onto Xujin's.
"Where is the first successor?" Manager Kim presses, his intent sharp.
Xujin, now visibly shaken, stutters, "That's—" but the words die in his throat as a bullet rips through the air, striking him straight in the head. His body slumps to the ground lifelessly, leaving Manager Kim momentarily stunned.
A shout comes from outside, "He figured it out! Kill him!" Chaos erupts as gunfire rains into the room, bullets tearing through the air aimed directly at Kim and his group.
"Alright, everything's coming together," Tom Lee says calmly as he pulls out his phone, calling his subordinate. He seems unfazed by the pandemonium, as if expecting this very outcome. His nonchalant grin hints at the calculated precision behind every move.
Meanwhile, Michael turns to Oliver, his voice low and direct, "Did you find out where the second son is?"
"Yes," Oliver replies smoothly, "He works as a teacher at Songdo International School in Incheon."
Michael takes a slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke with an eerie calm that contrasts sharply with the violence around them. "Make preparations for the private jet. We'll fly to Korea. And kill the rest of the people outside."
Oliver nods, his face an unreadable mask of professionalism as he turns and steps out of the funeral room. The silence in Michael's wake is thick, but outside, Oliver efficiently dispatches the attackers. He moves through the carnage like a ghost, unseen and untouched, leaving behind only bodies and pools of blood.
By the time Michael finishes his cigarette and steps outside, the scene is one of cold efficiency—corpses strewn across the ground, yet Oliver stands beside the car, his clothes immaculate.
"Let's go," Michael says, walking through the blood-soaked aftermath without a second glance.
The car pulls away from the chaos, heading straight for the airport, their next destination set. The game had only just begun.
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The moment Michael and Oliver stepped through the hotel doors, the scene inside was pure chaos. The air was thick with tension, and the remnants of a brutal fight lay scattered across the room.
The Japanese ninjas who had entered the fray were quickly killed, their bodies strewn across the wreckage. Amid the destruction, Hansu stood tall, his chest heaving with barely contained rage, his eyes burning with fury. His usual calm and calculated demeanor had shattered, replaced by raw, untamed anger.
After Hansu's relentless assault, Manager Kim and Jincheol were left sprawled on the floor, breathless and battered. As Hansu strode purposefully toward Shin Sera and the successor, Cho Gwi-gwan, a palpable aura of fury surrounded him. His eyes glinted with an unsettling intensity, a mix of anger and desperation.
Just then, the door swung open with a loud creak, and the group turned in unison. Michael stepped into the room, flanked by Oliver, exuding a calm confidence amidst the chaos.
Michael's gaze landed on Hansu, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "Wow," he said, feigning surprise, "you've been poisoned, haven't you? You look really pissed off." His smirk deepened as he took in Hansoo's tense posture and the barely contained rage radiating from him.
With his personality patch hovering at a volatile 34%, Hansu's breathing was ragged, each inhale laced with fury. The tension in the room thickened as the two men faced off, a storm brewing in Hansu's eyes as Michael's casual demeanor cut through the chaos like a knife.
The moment Seong Hansu moved, it was as if the air itself split around him—his speed at the brink of breaking the sound barrier. His first attack came swift and powerful, a high-speed kick aimed straight at Michael's side.
But with one arm raised, Michael blocked it with an ease that defied the force behind it. The shockwave rippled through the room, sending papers and debris scattering.
Hansu's eyes flashed, and with incredible agility, he switched legs mid-air, twisting with an insane level of flexibility. His other leg whipped toward Michael's head, the sheer speed of the movement leaving no room for error.
This time, his foot connected, sending Michael crashing into a nearby wall with a loud thud. The impact shook the room, cracks spreading across the wall as Michael slumped slightly.
Hansu stood, breathing heavily, thinking for a brief moment he had the upper hand. But then Michael straightened up, his lips curling into a slight, almost bored smile. His voice was low, but it resonated through the room with chilling finality.
"Enough."
The atmosphere shifted instantly. Michael's aura, which had been calm, now became something else—something predatory, oppressive, cold. The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.
Manager Kim and Jincheol, who had just regained their composure and were about to jump back into the fray, froze mid-motion. It was as if the very air had been sucked out of the room, making it hard to breathe.
Jincheol and Kim, men who had been in countless battles, were suddenly paralyzed, their bodies betraying them as they felt an overwhelming fear. It was like being prey caught in the gaze of a predator far beyond their comprehension. The sheer weight of Michael's killing intent was suffocating, and even Hansu, still burning with rage, faltered for a split second.
And that second was all Michael needed.
In a blur, Michael moved. His speed was unmatched, crossing the room in the blink of an eye. One moment he stood still, the next he was right in front of Hansoo, his hand gripping the man's head like a vice.
Before Hansu could react, Michael slammed him into the ground with earth-shattering force. The impact caused the entire hotel to shudder violently. The windows shattered from the sheer pressure, sending glass raining down like shards of ice.
The ground cracked beneath Hansu's skull, leaving a deep crater in the floor as he fell unconscious from the sheer brutality of the blow.
The room fell silent, the once fierce battle now over in an instant. Michael stood over Hansoo's limp body, unbothered, as if the fight hadn't even begun. His gaze shifted to the others, his voice calm but commanding.
"Oliver, go with Kim and protect the successor. Jincheol and I will take care of the rest." His eyes flicked to the assassins now pouring into the room.
Without a word, Oliver nodded and moved swiftly toward Manager Kim, gathering Sera, the successor, and the children. They all followed, knowing full well that Michael's presence alone was more than enough to handle what was about to come next.
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