“Sol-Ah,” Min Yeo-Jin called.
“What?” Yoon Sol-Ah replied.
“Were there always this many stars in the sky?”
Sol-Ah, who had been buried in a pile of documents, lifted her head slightly. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never really looked at the sky before, but yeah, there are a lot.”
When she glanced out the window, the sky was filled with glittering stars. She didn’t recognize the constellations, but with so many stars overhead, she felt she could connect them into any shape she wanted.
“Hmm, there are way too many,” Yeo-Jin muttered, tilting her head. Suddenly, she gasped, pointing out the window. “Oh! A shooting star!”
“Wow, a shooting star!”
The voice that chimed in at the same time as Yeo-Jin’s was Choi Min-Young’s.
“Min-Young Unnie!”
“You’re awake?” Yoon Sol-Ah asked.
“Yeah. I got up to use the bathroom and saw the lights on.”
Unlike most of the Labor-Management Cooperation Team members who had settled in the Desert Fortress, the contract workers who had arrived later were staying in the Wailing Castle.
Moreover, Eun-Ho had granted authority to Yeon Bo-Ra, who had overseen multiple expansions. Thanks to that, spare rooms were plenty and the facilities were excellent.
“But wow, that shooting star is really beautiful. I’m glad I came,” Min-Young said.
“Right?” Yeo-Jin replied.
“Yeah. It feels kind of ticklish and calming. I think the baby likes it too.”
“Oh!” Yoon Sol-Ah reacted.
Min-Young carefully sat down on the sofa in front of the warm fireplace. “Are you two working overtime?”
“I couldn’t sleep, so I’m just going over tomorrow’s tasks in advance,” Sol-Ah said.
“Wow, you guys are workaholics.”
“Huh? Absolutely not,” Yeo-Jin protested.
The table was piled high with reports and paperwork of all kinds.
“Isn’t the chairman giving you too much work?” Min-Young asked jokingly.
Both of them waved their hands immediately.
“Well, that mister does give us a lot of work but...” Yeo-Jin admitted.
“But?” Min-Young prompted.
“He only gives us enough to finish before six,” Sol-Ah said.
Min-Young tilted her head in confusion. “Huh?”
Yeo-Jin smiled and explained, “That’s the weird part. We start at nine, and when we finish everything he assigns, it’s always around five-thirty. Not just once but every single day.”
“Huh? Isn’t that just a coincidence?”
“That’s what I thought at first. But it’s not just me. It's the same for everyone on the team. Even though we all have different workloads.”
Did that even make sense? There were forty team members. Could someone really calculate each person’s workload, difficulty level, and capability so precisely when assigning tasks?
“That mister calculated all of it,” Yeo-Jin said.
It sounds absurd, but if it’s him, maybe it’s possible.
She was certain that was the case. Min-Young, whose loyalty had reached its peak, didn’t doubt it for a second. In fact, no matter who heard it, they would probably nod and say, “If it’s Eun-Ho, then yeah, that checks out.”
“But why five-thirty specifically? Why not six?” Min-Young asked.
“He said we need time to grab a cup of coffee in between. That’s what keeps office workers going,” Yeo-Jin replied.
“Ah, he’s very detailed.”
“Well, the good thing is, once you’re done, no one says anything,” Sol-Ah remarked.
“So you’re doing it early so you can relax tomorrow?”
“Yep. We’re going on a picnic tomorrow! The weather’s supposed to be really nice.”
Min-Young couldn’t tell whether their workload was intense or easy. Just as she was about to comment, her gaze drifted toward the window and froze. “Hmm?”
“Unnie, what is it?” Sol-Ah asked.
“Out there...”
A chilling cold crept over her, making her instinctively wrap her arms around herself. The dazzling starry sky had disappeared.
“Is that a snowstorm?”
***
“It’s done.”
“You’ve done well.”
The Master of the Snowy Mountains watched over the blizzard that had swallowed the entire Wailing Forest, clearly satisfied. With a couple of firm claps, he brushed off his thick hands. He had pushed the storm, laden with dark clouds, from the outer edges inward. By now, it would have nearly engulfed even the castle itself.
“Let’s continue,” said the third-largest shareholder.
“Yes.” Mu Byun responded in a composed manner. “There are three key strongholds.”
“Three?” he asked.
“The Wailing Fortress, the Desert Fortress, and the Primordial Skyscraper. If we take those three, the rest will fall easily.” Having spent an immeasurable span of time in the company, she knew this land far better than Eun-Ho’s newly arrived group ever could. “One unit will strike down from the northeast of the desert, and another will advance up from the southwest of the Wailing Forest. That way, they’ll converge.”
“That sounds right,” the man agreed.
“But be careful. The defensive barrier around the Wailing Fortress is formidable. We cannot afford to get stalled there.”
Last time, they had been caught off guard, never expecting those bat-like directors and the center director to have already switched sides. Things were different now.
“Fourth. What about the spell formation?”
“It’s perfect,” came the reply. “Not just any barrier, but even the strongest one imaginable would be shattered in an instant.”
This time, they had prepared thoroughly, grinding their teeth in determination. Eun-Ho, the very core of their enemy’s strength, was also not around.
Word had spread that Eun-Ho had flown away on a black bird a few days earlier. No one knew where he had gone. The uncertainty left a faint unease in its wake, but it changed nothing. All they had to do was finish everything before he returned.
One of them chuckled. “Heh, finally, we’ll have our revenge.”
“What an idiot.” Another scoffed. “How can someone aiming for the chairman’s seat leave it empty for so long?”
“He lacks the basics. The basics,” a third said.
“Speed is everything.” The Master of the Snowy Mountains unleashed a killing intent through the raging blizzard. “We’ll seize all three locations at once and take every employee he values as hostages.”
“Hostages?” someone asked.
“We’ll kill them one by one until Eun-Ho hands over everything he has.”
They had seen how the Undying once fought. Arguing over team leader positions and panicking at the threat of a general strike simply exposed weaknesses. Moreover, they were shareholders.
“What if someone starts talking about strikes again?” one asked.
“We’ll eliminate them,” came the cold reply.
Who cares if the company ground to a halt for a while? They had already suffered immense losses. Compared to that, such sacrifices were trivial or even necessary.
“There are plenty of capable people under me,” one of them said. “We’ll use this chance to wipe everything clean.”
Also, it wasn’t as if only the current employees were competent.
“It’s not like the company was originally built by the Undying alone,” someone pointed out.
“Exactly!” another agreed.
“It makes no sense for one man to take everything just because he defeated him,” a third remarked.
The shareholders were confident. Hadn’t Eun-Ho himself killed the Undying and taken the company? They believed they could simply do the same.
“If the company keeps being run like this, its downfall is inevitable,” one said. “We have to step in and set things right.”
“So, you’re talking about restructuring, then,” another concluded.
Just like how a company would cut off underperforming divisions and sell them off at a profit during restructuring, they thought of doing the same.
Unprofitable departments were expendable. Someone like Eun-Ho, who had misled employees with strange ideals and thrown the company into chaos, was even more so. Removing him would be a far nobler, more valuable act.
“Please consider it as structural reform,” someone corrected.
Of course, it required a bit of force and some outside help. However, that was hardly unusual.
“We’ll reclaim all our buildings, won’t we?” one demanded.
“Of course!” came the reply.
“Absolutely. I poured my entire fortune into this,” another said.
“I’ve already given firm orders to the mercenaries,” someone else remarked.
Though Eun-Ho had already drained them once, they had practically emptied what remained of their wealth to recruit the strongest mercenaries from across the universe for this operation.
In the long run, it would be worth it. Rather than lose their very cash cow to some upstart, they would reclaim it themselves, even if it meant enduring short-term losses. This wasn’t a loss but an investment for the future.
“We’ve all gathered,” the Master of the Snowy Mountains said in a heavy voice.
The fifth-largest shareholder, Crescent Scythe, twitched his hooked nose. “And what of the Heavenly King?”
“He remains still,” replied the Master of the Snowy Mountains.
Though phrased indirectly, no one present failed to grasp its meaning. They had all seen him frozen solid after falling into their trap.
“What a pity,” someone said. “If only he told us where the Undying’s shares were hidden, he wouldn’t have met such a fate.”
“The king has grown old,” another remarked. “He won’t last much longer.”
In the past, such a thing would have been unthinkable. He would have crushed even a surprise assault orchestrated by the craftiest of enemies in the blink of an eye. Yet as the sole remaining one of the Four Heavenly Kings, he had exhausted himself bearing the weight of all four heavens alone.
“He should have stepped down long ago,” someone muttered.
“It can’t be helped. Times change,” another replied.
“Perhaps he should have retired when the old gods were driven out,” a third said.
The shareholders discussed with bitter smiles, their words laced with greed.
Just then, the Master of the Snowy Mountains halted the blizzard he had been spreading. “That’s enough chatter...”
“Hmm?”
“What is it?” they asked.
The Master of the Snowy Mountains frowned, his gaze and voice turning as cold as frost. “The Heavenly King has disappeared.”
An icy chill burst from him unconsciously, wrapping around the major shareholders.
“Is he coming here?” someone asked.
“I don’t sense the king’s presence...” another said.
“If he’s not here, then... Wait.”
That single thought, could it be, dug into their unease.
“Enough!” shouted the Master of the Snowy Mountains
A sharp shout cut through the bone-chilling tension.
“Move it! We’re starting earlier than planned!”
***
“Hear this, traitors under Eun-Ho’s command.”
Yeo-Jin felt a surge of confusion.
“You are surrounded.”
In the middle of the night, a blizzard had suddenly risen. It seeped through cracks in the windows and the chimney, steadily filling the castle interior with frigidness.
“We, the shareholders, are the rightful owners of this company. As such, we intend to defeat all of you rebels.”
As if that weren’t enough, the shareholders even called them rebels.
“If any of you still cling to life, come out immediately.”
“Yeo-Jin! Use that!” Min-Young shouted.
“Y-yeah! I got it! Don’t worry, Unnie!” Yeo-Jin answered quickly.
She was startled, but not terrified. Before leaving, Eun-Ho had shared certain permissions with a few team members.
[Wailing Castle - Activated]
[The defense protocol has been activated!]
Fwoooosh—!
The moment the defense protocol activated, the Wailing Forest burst into light. To be precise, strange patterns etched across the entire forest shot out laser-like beams of red and blue, all converging toward the castle.
“Are you kidding me?! I can’t see a thing!”
The ominous light that struck the castle blinded them. The blizzard, seeping in through impossible gaps, wrapped around them as the cold stiffened them little by little.
Kraaaack— Thud!
Cracks spread across the barrier, followed by the sound of something shattering like glass, and dust poured down.
Yeo-Jin choked. “Keugh!”
It felt like her throat was tearing apart. Even breathing made it seem as though shards of glass were lodged in her windpipe, scraping against her vocal cords. Still, she couldn’t close her eyes.
“There’s one more thing I need to ask of all of you,” Eun-Ho had said.
“Hmm?”
“There is a reason why I gathered everyone here...”
There was a mission their team leader had left behind.
“If you’re ever ambushed while I’m gone, call for them.”
“Who do we call?”
She remembered how he had gathered everyone in the former Personnel Bureau director’s office before leaving, repeating his instructions again and again.
“Emergency... alarm,” she forced out. “Keugh!”
Immediately, blood spilled from her lips at the mere effort of speaking. The rapidly freezing air turned even that blood solid in an instant.
[Emergency mode has been activated.]
Thud—
A distant tremor echoed from far away. Then came a deafening alarm, piercing her ears as if the world itself were ending.
[Warning!]
[Warning!]
[Warning!]
Through her fading vision, she could barely make out the red warning messages flickering.
Bzzzt— Crackle—
Then, finally, an announcement rang out across the entire system.
[An emergency has been declared.]
[This is an announcement. All employees must immediately cease their activities and proceed to a safe location...]
She had heard it countless times before. The same announcement that had always driven them into deadly competition was now guiding them to safety.
“An attack?! Hold on, youngsters!”
“Shadow Clone!”
Her colleagues were waking up, and even the administrators who used to treat them like insects reacted immediately.
“Are they insane? A call at this hour?”
“It’s from the chairman, Lady Harona.”
“What? Eun-Ho is calling for me?”
Employees who once seemed intimidating now rushed to help without hesitation.
“Guk! Something’s ringing here!”
“It’s Team Leader Lee—no, the chairman’s hotline. It looks like an emergency, but I can’t see the caller!”
“What?! I’m heading over right now!”
Moreover, the connections she had made here were also reaching out to her.
“Eun-Ho—no, Yeo-Jin! What’s happening?”
“Mmmmph!”
“You can’t speak? I’ll be there shortly!”
As her consciousness faded, Yeo-Jin realized something. She had always thought that Eun-Ho had won simply because he was strong and smart. However, it wasn’t that simple. Eun-Ho had lived every single day fiercely, helping those around him so that when the critical moment came, he would certainly win.
“Yeo-Jin! Where are you? The Desert Fortress?”
With that realization, Yeo-Jin drew in a sharp, freezing breath.
[You have been healed by Healer Yoon Sol-Ah.]
Regaining some clarity thanks to Sol-Ah’s healing, Yeo-Jin forced out a desperate cry, “It’s an attack! Please help us!”
“Your location?”
“The Wailing Castle!”
At that moment, the fragile barrier that had barely been holding on finally shattered completely.
A raging blizzard, mixed with dark clouds and spiraling winds, surged inward. The sky had long since been swallowed by darkness. Like a predator that had found its prey, the frost-laden darkness consumed the entire castle.
“What is this? I can’t see a thing!”
“Yeo-Jin! Are you there?!”
Yeo-Jin froze solid as the cold pierced her bones and darkness swallowed her vision completely. Overwhelmed by pain and terror, her mind began to slip.
Fwoosh—!
Then, a single beam of light tore through the darkness. A blazing heat melted the horrific ice.
Within the restored sliver of vision, there was light. The falling snow froze midair, as if time itself had stopped. A sacred energy cut across the pitch-black sky. Within it, an impossibly long dragon descended like flowing water.
Seated atop the head of the azure dragon was a black-haird man. Where his gaze fell, the suspended snowflakes gathered. A dark blue aura wrapped around the man, his sword, and the dragon. His upright posture carried an unshakable, commanding presence.
“That’s...” Yeo-Jin murmured.
It was a familiar face, yet somehow, a stranger.
She felt an overwhelming pressure she had never felt before in her life. She had seen the former chairman glare with bloodshot eyes and roar in fury, yet even that paled in comparison to the being descending before her now.
Nevertheless, she had no choice but to call out to him, “Ah... Mister?”
“Yeah.”
Though he seemed like someone from another world, he was also the most reliable person she knew.