I Became a Scoundrel of a Chaebol Family-Chapter 511: 48. Demon-Realm Incheon 2078

Whoom—!

A gloved fist sliced the air, cracking it with a sonic pop as it drove in mean.

“Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee”—not just said but done; a shot that, if it landed, would blank a person’s mind in an instant.

But the opponent—a woman with sun-browned, healthy skin and a close-cropped cut—was no pushover.

She leaned her head back from a straight you could barely track with your eyes and snapped a jab in reply.

Pang—!

“!”

Blocked.

“Tch. At this level, you shouldn’t be on Protocol—”

She recoiled the stuffed jab and fired another.

Tap, tap. Simple, tapping motions—yet the weight behind them was anything but.

“—you should be on the Security Team!”

When every jab got stoned at the guard, she bit off the line and turned her hip through a straight.

Knife-edged knuckles that could cut—worthy of a chief of security. Seo Aram slid it easy and sank a glove into Security Chief Kwon Dambi’s gut.

“Gkkeuk?!”

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With a dull thunk, Kwon Dambi’s lower body popped up as if spring-launched and she flopped face-first to the canvas.

“Kh...!”

She wore a long, lean frame, but under that it was wall-to-wall muscle—heavy. Taking a shot that popped a body like that? The damage wouldn’t be small.

Even so, Kwon Dambi was tough—fitting for Go Muyeol’s security chief.

She spun on the floor and set her stance in one motion, then scythed a leg along the mat for Aram’s ankle.

Tak—, blocked.

A sudden, rule-breaking shot—yet Seo Aram stuffed it like it had been called out ahead of time.

Like she knew the future.

“...Another foul.”

Fouls earn punishment.

With the boxing rule set already broken, Seo Aram didn’t insist.

She crashed in, coiling like a snake and cinching joints.

“Kkyeeek...?!”

Sweat-sheened bronze went red in a blink as pain flared; hands and feet drummed the canvas until, finally, a tap.

“Phew— I said stop changing the rules mid-fight.”

Seo Aram shook out her sweat-wet gi and sighed.

She looked down at the cheat with sheer contempt, but Dambi was brazen as ever.

“No, seriously, this makes no sense. You’ve barely trained and this is where you are? You shouldn’t be chief of Protocol— you belong on Security.”

“Isn’t your place Protocol?”

“Excuse me?”

Seo Aram took a bottle from a teammate, gulped, and went on.

“Honestly? What do we need a secretary-corps Security Team for, when Master has a dedicated knight corps.”

“Mm, when you put it like that, I can’t argue.”

“My take: ditch Security and the rest and unify under Protocol.”

She squatted in front of Kwon Dambi, who was still sprawled on the mat.

“Of course, everyone comes in under me.”

With a mischievous grin she never showed in front of Go Muyeol, she splashed water onto Dambi’s face.

“Gah?! You little—!!”

Round two broke out at once.

Winner, again: Seo Aram.

When she entered as Go Muyeol’s secretary, she wasn’t strong. Then she soaked everything up like a sponge—at an absurd speed—and took the No. 1 spot for secretary combat power in a blink.

Even the former No. 1, Security Chief Kwon Dambi, reached a point where she couldn’t so much as graze Aram’s hair, much less win. No more need be said.

“Ugh, a few months ago you were a little creep muttering on the sidelines!”

“...How long ago is that to you.”

“Your ego’s out of control.”

Thanks to that, the gloomy, timid, withdrawn Seo Aram was gone.

She’d practically become a different person—unrecognizable to anyone who’d known her.

If Go Muyeol—who knows the “true face” of the Seo Aram, the original heroine—had been here, he might have marveled, Finally showing your real self. But to him—her savior and the one she serves with absolute loyalty—Seo Aram kept up the perfect act.

“There’s a rumor: Chief Ra’s being dispatched as president of Finance. You hear?”

“Yes.”

What she treasures most is time at Master’s side.

As Protocol chief she spends a lot of her day near him, but she’s not satisfied. The role makes it hard to rack flashy results, and his side is always anchored by Chief of the Secretariat Ra Seunghee and Snow White—Baekseol—the CEO and commander of the Knights of Muyeol.

“Given her profile, Finance is a natural fit.”

“Hah— once we were both team chiefs, and in a blink she flew off. Chief of Secretariat ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) and now president. I mean, she’s that capable, but still.”

“Isn’t it ultimately a demotion? She’s away from Master.”

“How is that a demotion? On paper it’s a promotion, and Finance is huge right now.”

“But still...”

She thought of Im Soo-ah, who’d been “sent down” earlier.

Now president of Koryo Entertainment and fast-tracking through Prestige’s crash course, which meant far less time to serve Go Muyeol.

On paper, promotion. To Seo Aram’s eye, a clear demotion.

How is it a promotion if you can’t be at Master’s side??

“Ahh~ I want to be president soon too. How long will it take? I’ll probably enter under Snow White’s chain, right? By then he’ll have built something insane.”

“...”

Kwon Dambi clearly thought otherwise.

Is her loyalty a little thin? For a security chief?

Seo Aram’s eyes narrowed a fraction.

It was nothing overt, but Dambi felt a chill.

“...? What was that.”

“Anyway, that means the Chief of Secretariat’s chair opens again. I wonder whom Master has in mind to succeed Chief Ra.”

“Hmm~ shock pick: me?”

“Not a chance. A role like that fits Ji-hye... or me.”

“...Unbelievable. Did you just slide yourself in? And you’re underrating me. For your information, I even published a book on Master’s order. My humanities chops are solid.”

“Ah~, that cheesy art book?”

“Cheesy? Master himself called it excellent. Honestly, your ego’s the one out of control.”

“...”

Kwon Dambi kept yammering, but Seo Aram never—not once—believed Dambi would be chief.

Privately, she painted a pink daydream: Master would pick her.

Honestly—

I’m the most capable, aren’t I?

Even if not yet, at this rate I’ll be soon, and if any role fits a Chief of Secretariat, it’s me, isn’t it?

Days passed with that sly thought keeping her company.

Then a rumor started threading through the secretary corps.

Busy with Koryo Entertainment’s world tour, Im Soo-ah was suddenly returning to Incheon.

“Looks like Chief Im is coming back.”

“Not just popping in for a report?”

“Idiot. Can’t you tell the difference? That’s a return.”

“True. Honestly, it always felt like she’d been sent out just to pad the résumé.”

“Soo-ah’s got no origin. Crash-course training, crash-course results. Basically a concubine.”

“What happens to Chief Ra?”

“What do you think. She handled all the muck jobs, so she’ll strap on ‘president’ and fly. Finance chair, tucked away.”

“Right. She’s such an elite it’s hard to even feel jealous.”

“Must be nice~.”

“...”

Im Soo-ah is coming back?

And she’s taking Chief of the Secretariat again?

...Why?

For Seo Aram, it was a bolt from the blue.

Fine.

Not becoming chief? That’s possible.

Like Im Soo-ah, Seo Aram has “no origin.”

The other secretaries burned more than a decade of their lives to finally win Prestige status. Aram did a few months of crash training. That’s it.

Even so, she not only entered the owner-family Secretariat but wears a team-chief badge.

From the outside, it’s a promotion that beggars belief.

If not for being hand-picked by the absolute—Go Muyeol—there would have been an uproar.

So taking a few beats, letting the tempo breathe—she could accept that.

She knows she’ll be inner circle one day.

The problem is Im Soo-ah.

If a woman who went out as president comes back, successful, to head the Secretariat again, then Master is acknowledging that the chief of the Secretariat is the inner circle.

How long does that mean Im Soo-ah will sit there?

Surely not... for life?

“That... won’t do.”

She bit her lip, jittery for no good reason.

No hard feelings toward Im Soo-ah, but to reach her dream she has to outshine her.

Isn’t there... some way to stand out more?

Being merely Protocol chief won’t cut it. To be closer—closer to him—

++++

Year-end to New Year was at the door.

Normally we’d already be prepping for Pyongyang, but, for better or worse, this year’s turn-of-the-year event was effectively canceled.

We cut it down to a family meal, light and private.

There are plenty of reasons. The biggest: the atmosphere wasn’t right for a grand show.

Just recently Incheon and the Republic clashed hard and lives were lost on a massive scale. In that wake, Incheon declared independence.

Across the continent, suspected Abyss bases blew sky-high in multiple locations, and Wuhan got hit by a magnitude 9.1 megaquake.

Mourning ran not just through Korea but the world. No call to draw heat with a glittering gala now.

— “And with that, the 2077 Korea Go League champion is—”

— “Cho Gihan 9-dan, at 32 wins and 8 losses!!”

— “Congratulations!!”

— “Ah~ the momentum from special-entry pro Go Youngman 1-dan was incredible! But with a loss to Cho Gihan 9-dan in Round 40, he finishes 31-9 in second place!”

— “Still unbelievable! For a layman with no ties to go to place second in his first league— it’s unreal, you know?”

— “Unreal? Start with him beating Cho Gihan 9-dan even to earn special entry. That alone was unreal, wasn’t it?”

— “Ah~ that shocking game still gives me chills. He wobbled from the opening today and lost, but that time he pressed Cho Gihan 9-dan start to finish.”

— “It was monstrous.”

Mm...

It probably wasn’t because of Round 40—the de facto final.

Probably.

Anyway, with the year-end event canceled, my schedule opened more than expected— and an unlooked-for proposal came up from the Secretariat.

“...Team consolidation?”

“Yes. A proposal from Protocol Chief Seo Aram. Functionally, the Security Team has lost much of its meaning, and the distinction between the Execution Team and Strategy Team is blurry. She suggests another reorg.”