Compared to the cultists’ frenzied feast called [Masquerade], this party Mun Gyeongha arranged for Yeonam Group is nothing less than a painstaking reconstruction of a lavish upper-class gala.
Or—more precisely—the media-varnished version of that lavishness?
I don’t actually know what kind of parties real-world rich people enjoy.
Either way, it’s convincing enough that I don’t have major complaints.
Lighting pours down bright enough to make you forget, for a moment, that we live in a world where surreal monsters coexist with us and threaten survival every day.
Thanks to that lighting, the distinguished guests glitter even more.
Beautiful dresses and suits.
Jewels so extravagant they feel unreal. Luxury labels that exist solely to flaunt their owner’s means. Delicacies prepared purely to make this gathering shine.
Background pieces flow softly so as not to intrude on picky VIPs’ conversations.
Applause and welcoming cries cut through the music.
“Chairman, welcome!”
“Chairman! Oh, Chairman!”
“It’s a joy to see you in good health!”
“Chairman!” “Chairman!” “Chairman!”
He has merely appeared, but he is bathed in everyone’s attention and blessings—the man himself, Chairman Mun Taeik of Yeonam Group.
“Why drag a corpse in he—mmph?”
Baukalak clapped a hand over Curtain Call’s mouth in a panic.
Ah, good work. Bau! Excellent, Bau!
I wondered how Curtain Call, whose social skills hover around wild-animal level, ever managed team activities—turns out it was thanks to Baukalak’s tear-soaked sacrifices.
Even now Baukalak paid a small price for her.
“Ghhhhh... C-Colly... don’t bite my hand...”
He couldn’t even scream, just groaned.
It’s a full moon tonight, so he’ll regenerate quickly, but that doesn’t erase pain. And most of Curtain Call’s teeth are razor fangs. It must hurt like hell... namu amitabha...
“But Colly. Not wrong. Sick person. Should be lying?”
Awkward Korean.
Eric, one of Curtain Call’s teammates, said it with a frown.
Roughly: “Curtain Call’s right. If he’s that sick, shouldn’t he be lying down?”
I agree.
Honestly, saying “Chairman Mun Taeik attended the party” isn’t accurate.
“More like they somehow kept him alive long enough to wheel him here.”
[whoof—hiss]
The noise each time he breathed.
[whoof—hiss]
A body so withered that even existence felt miraculous, let alone attending a gala.
[whoof—hiss]
Transparent tubes and wires tangled around Mun Taeik like spaghetti.
[whoof—hiss]
An oxygen mask hooked to his nose, as if he couldn’t even breathe on his own.
[whoof—hiss]
A state-of-the-art powered wheelchair and a staggering array of life-support devices—an anthology of everything [Cthulhu World] can implement—propping up a corpse doing a passable impression of life.
Chairman Mun Taeik of Yeonam Group was exactly that.
Twelve handsome and beautiful heirs moved toward him as they spoke.
“Chairman, I’ve longed to see you.”
“Now that you’re here, it’s as if a precious light has bloomed in this hall.”
Plausible flattery sliding from perfectly shaped lips.
But the expressions on their faces were slick with greed and a dark delight.
A monstrous old man. Why cling that hard? Well, he’s almost dead. My era begins now. Time to prune the others. And so on—
No one’s mouth said it, but anyone could hear the thoughts.
“Ugh... mm...”
A thin groan slipped from Mun Taeik.
A few fingers barely twitched.
A silver-haired woman in a blue dress—one of the escorts—raised a ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) hand and stepped forward.
“The Chairman will speak with one party at a time. And please keep your voices down from here on.”
By “one party,” she meant one heir unit at a time.
There are thirteen heirs present including Mun Seunghee—line up and approach in order.
Mun Gyeongi came forward to Mun Taeik’s side, pinching a handful of blackish-red velvet as she moved.
Poised and beautiful, every inch the first in the succession rank.
Many here are guests by Gyeongi’s invitation, but she picked out a few special ones even among those:
The ruling-party leader-designate, Seo Seungje the vice director of Paju Central Hospital, Do Cheol (饕餮), president of the Hunter Mutual Aid Association, and Gye Juwon, head of the Foreigners Administration.
A dream team a mere “Mr. Kim Sinhwa, currently a hot villain,” couldn’t hope to stack up to.
The hospital’s director isn’t human, so this is the ceiling of who Gyeongi can summon.
The others weren’t at that level, but they gathered here and there to await their turn.
Gyeongha is eighth in line, so he has a while.
I slipped away from the odd ritual unspooling in the ballroom and went to the window.
“Let’s see...”
Through front glass thinly gilded with gold, the gaudy night view of Sejong City spread out.
A decrepit sky, grayed out under the city’s glare.
A massive airship flying that sky.
“If the airship’s still up there, tonight isn’t the ramming route.”
And Baek Beomjin came and left, Gye Juwon accepted the invite, four cult leaders are here but Dokgo Gyeom didn’t show...
Mun Taeik granting the heirs the right to speak.
That means the coming event will be one of two—
“Either way, my counter is the same.”
I turned my head toward Mun Seunghee.
Her dress tonight was worlds apart from usual, but her bearing and posture hadn’t changed at all.
She stood straight with a sculpted, emotionless face. Her stance was confident as always—yet somehow, she looked forlorn.
Only a small security detail stood with her.
Since the party began, no one but me had spoken to her.
What poured on her instead were looks full of contempt or anger.
Why did you even come? You killed Mun Gyeongnam—happy to take his place? This isn’t a seat you can sit in. Been making the rounds lately and trying hard, huh? How cute. You think you’ll get anything? Keep showing off—I’ll kill you. And so on—
Those silent messages kept pelting Seunghee.
“Kim Sinhwa, what on earth is happening tonight?”
Baukalak sidled up without my noticing.
“Ah, perfect timing. It’s about time to work.”
“So something is happening after all?”
“Yeah. How many did you bring?”
Please don’t tell me the ones I see are all of them.
“Colly and me. Hyunggeun and Eric. Four total.”
Huh? That’s actually it?
“Why only that? Don’t tell me you ran short on fabric and could only tailor four suits?”
Eric is the dreadlocked Irish butcher (class: warrior), and Baukalak is a Belarusian werewolf (a different breed from Kid the Gunman).
And Gu Hyunggeun is the only full Korean of the four, but looks so hulking you wouldn’t think so—a brawler (Black King’s Hell Arena champion, grappling-specialized).
If you used the fabric for the three besides Curtain Call on someone else, you could’ve dressed nine.
“What are you babbling about? Mun Gyeong... Mun Gyeong... whoever. One of those insanely handsome siblings blocked us, so we only got five tickets.”
I burned one on Gyeongha’s invitation.
I’ve been short on “time” for fine-tuning here, busy getting dragged into other things.
“Fine—then all of you form up in full combat posture around Ms. Mun Seunghee.”
“Combat posture? Now? Isn’t that too obvious?”
“Obvious is good.”
While all eyes fix on Mun Taeik and Mun Gyeongha, Curtain Call’s crew snapped into a perfect protective formation.
I slipped in with them and told Mun Seunghee:
“The Chairman won’t call you, Director Mun.”
“I see.”
She answered clipped and calm, as if it were nothing.
“Yes. That—what do you call it—audience? It ends at number eight.”
“It will end at Director Mun Gyeongha?”
Yes—right when I happen to be at his side.
“Yes. Not that it ends because of me—but anyway, at that moment the Chairman will say something to Mun Gyeongha, and then an assassin will strike at you, Director.”
“...What?”
Seunghee echoed, incredulous.
“What?” “Hm?” “What?” “Oh.”
Came the chorus from the four by her side.
“Vector and Gyeom, and Lorik will charge.”
“Who are those?”
Curtain Call’s question.
I pointed to a few fixers stationed around the room.
“That one, that one, and that one. If you block them, a handful of pointless things will follow—ignore all of it. When the smoke bombs pop, grab Director Mun Seunghee and bolt for the stairs. Not the elevators.”
“Hold on, Kim Sinhwa! Why are you telling us this now?”
“Keep your voice down. I just found out myself.”
Strictly speaking, the story, settings, and progression were finalized just now. That’s [Cthulhu World]’s problem in a nutshell.
“A dynamic real-time active quest system where your choices trigger different events!”
Even just at this party, there are six major event lines.
The worst are [Ilshin Hotel Collapse] and [Airship Collision], but we rolled the easier branch.
And if you factor in NPCs acting outside the range the game set for them, even I can’t know what will happen until the last moment.
That’s why I usually cut quests off before they start—or delete the trigger conditions.
Even so, I accepted tonight’s event for two big reasons—
“One was to meet Baek Beomjin.”
And the other...
“Ha, unbelievable. Mr. Kim Sinhwa, you again?”
Mun Gyeongha approached, face creased.
But why that tone?
“Unless you want to watch me cling to you, please keep away. Stay at my side.”
Why is he talking like that?
“Let’s go.”
“Very well. Come with me.”
I had to approach Mun Taeik with Gyeongha and two lackeys he’d prepped.
“Chairman, I’m Mun Gyeongha, host of tonight’s party. Are you comfortable? We took great pains once we heard you would honor us, but there must still be many shortcomings—”
With a plausible voice he unspooled plausible lines.
But Mun Taeik gave no response. Only that mechanical [whoof—hiss] of his breath continued.
It wasn’t much different from preaching at a sculpture made by smearing brown clay over a rotten stump; he’d reacted much the same to the heirs who met him earlier.
Ah—there is one difference this time.
Right now, Mun Taeik was looking not at Gyeongha, but at me.
“...”
Unpleasant—but in a way different from Baek Beomjin.
Two eyes, tied to a brain so rotten you couldn’t guess what thoughts or memories were in there, stared at me.
Then—at some point—
“Ghh... uhh...”
Mun Taeik made a sound and moved a finger.
It begins.
The woman in the blue dress bent to bring her ear close to his mouth.
She listened, nodded.
“Yes, understood.”
She straightened and lifted her head, speaking loud enough for all to hear.
“Everyone in the ballroom, please listen.”
Gyeongha edged nearer to me, expectation brightening his face at the odd turn in his turn.
Sorry, but what you’re imagining won’t happen.
When an heir approaches with a player in tow, Mun Taeik delivers this announcement:
“The Chairman has chosen who will succeed Yeonam Group.”
A declaration that dropped out of nowhere.
“What?”
“Huh?”
A stir.
Then—another declaration that allowed no stir at all.
And this was the second reason I bothered to wait for this event.
“The heir who will succeed Yeonam—Director Mun Seunghee of Yeonam Construction.”
A grotesque silence followed.
Why?
Why Mun Seunghee, out of nowhere?
What?
What just happened?
Awe. Panic. Confusion.
The reason for such a ridiculous declaration, so suddenly—
“Bau, transform!”
Curtain Call’s roar detonated.
A shout of “Kill!” A battle cry of “Hyaaah!” A clattering crash. A long, drawn-out howl—awooooo. A concussive bang.
A flash.
Screams.
Legally speaking, Mun Taeik’s words had no force.
Even so, there was only one reason he pointed to Seunghee before even receiving her.
He probably knew some heirs had brought assassins to kill her.
“From here on—kill each other.”
As if an order like that had fallen, the heirs began to attack one another.
