---
Chapter 17: Hidden Pieces (Continued)
After calming himself, Ansh took a deep breath and folded his arms.
"Alright," he said, glancing at the old man. "Since you've already gone this far… you might as well explain everything properly."
The old man gave a slight nod and stepped forward.
"As you wish, young master."
He gestured toward the three standing in front.
"Let me introduce them."
Ansh's eyes narrowed slightly as his attention returned to the trio.
"The first—" the old man pointed toward the bodyguard, "—is the one assigned to you."
Ansh rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, I figured that much."
The old man continued calmly,
"He is also… my son."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Ansh blinked once.
Then twice.
"…Your what?"
"My son."
Ansh stared at him in disbelief.
"…Since when did you even have a son?!"
That question slipped out instantly.
His mind was already racing.
Wait… what? When did this happen? Who is the mother? How did I not know this? This old man was hiding a whole family DLC?!
The old man, however, remained completely calm.
"That is not important."
"NOT IMPORTANT?!"
Ansh rubbed his forehead.
"Of course it's important! You've been around since my grandfather's time and suddenly—boom—you have a grown-up son standing here like a final boss character?!"
No reaction.
The old man continued as if nothing had happened.
"He is highly talented. He has already reached the Sixth Trigram."
That immediately caught Ansh's attention.
"…Sixth?"
He looked at the bodyguard again, this time more seriously.
The old man nodded.
"Yes. And at his current pace, he will reach the Seventh Trigram within three to four months."
Ansh's expression shifted slightly.
That was… impressive.
Very impressive.
The old man then pointed toward Alina.
"Next—her."
Ansh's gaze moved toward her again.
"She has also reached the Sixth Trigram," the old man said.
Ansh raised an eyebrow.
"…Seriously?"
Alina nodded slightly, still avoiding eye contact.
"She possesses good talent," the old man continued, "though slightly inferior compared to my son."
Ansh smirked faintly.
Of course you'd say that.
"But," the old man added, "her true strength lies elsewhere."
Ansh crossed his arms.
"Oh?"
"She has exceptional intelligence, learning ability, and adaptability in management and analysis."
Ansh paused.
That… actually made sense.
"That is why I placed her as your secretary," the old man continued. "It allows her to manage company operations efficiently…"
A brief pause.
"…while also keeping an eye on you and ensuring your safety when required."
Ansh slowly turned his head.
"…You just can't help yourself, can you?"
The old man ignored that completely.
"Finally—"
He pointed toward the man standing in the middle.
"This one…"
His tone changed slightly.
"…is the most exceptional among them."
Ansh's gaze sharpened.
The man stood silently, his presence calm—but heavy.
"There is a high possibility that his talent equals—or even surpasses—my son's," the old man said.
Now that—
was saying something.
"His combat ability is extraordinary," he continued. "He can adapt and learn fighting techniques in an extremely short time."
Ansh's interest grew.
"And more importantly…"
The old man's eyes narrowed slightly.
"He can hold his ground against me… for a few minutes."
Ansh's eyes widened slightly.
"…Against you?"
That was no small feat.
Not after what he had personally experienced.
The old man gave a slight nod.
After that, he turned toward the rest of the group.
"As for the others—"
He spoke more briefly now.
"All of them possess at least one exceptional trait."
"Out of the twenty-one…"
"Four have reached the Fifth Trigram."
"Six are at the Fourth."
"And the remaining are between the Second and Third."
Ansh carefully observed them.
Each one stood firm.
Silent.
Disciplined.
"They all share one common trait," the old man added.
"They are orphans."
Ansh didn't react.
But he understood.
"That is why they are loyal," the old man continued. "And that is why I was able to train them without interference."
A slight pause.
"I personally trained all of them."
That explained everything.
Combat.
Assassination.
Discipline.
It all made sense now.
The room fell silent again.
Then—
Ansh stepped forward.
His expression changed.
Completely.
No more irritation.
No more sarcasm.
Only focus.
Only ambition.
"I see…"
He looked at all twenty-one members.
Then spoke—
slowly.
Clearly.
"I have a plan."
Everyone's attention sharpened instantly.
Even the old man frowned slightly.
Because this—
he didn't know.
Ansh continued,
"We are going to build something."
A pause.
"An organization."
The old man's eyes narrowed.
Ansh's voice turned colder.
"One that operates in the shadows."
"One that no one can see…"
"…but everyone will fear."
Silence.
Heavy silence.
"An assassination organization."
The words landed like a bomb.
The old man's expression finally changed.
For the first time—
he was genuinely shocked.
"…Young master…"
Even he hadn't expected this.
But Ansh didn't stop.
"These twenty-one…"
He gestured toward them.
"Will be the foundation."
"The first members."
His eyes gleamed.
"They will be the ones who carve our name into the darkness."
The old man stared at him.
Carefully.
Analyzing.
Trying to understand.
Because this wasn't a simple decision.
This wasn't business.
This was war—
from the shadows.
Meanwhile—
Ansh stood there calmly.
But inside—
his thoughts were clear.
I never wanted to dominate the world from the front…
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
But that doesn't mean I won't do it from the shadows.
His gaze swept across the members again.
With power like this…
It would be a crime not to use it.
And this—
was only the beginning.
Because deep down—
Ansh already knew.
He had far more plans ahead.
---
Chapter 7: Hidden Pieces (Continued)
Ansh stood silently for a moment after declaring his plan.
Then, slowly, he spoke again—
his tone colder… sharper… far more deliberate.
"This organization…"
He glanced at the twenty-one members standing before him.
"…is not meant for the common people."
A brief pause.
"I have no interest in spreading fear among the weak."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"We aim higher."
The atmosphere grew heavy.
"Much higher."
He turned his gaze toward the old man.
"This organization will exist to instill fear…"
"…in those at the top."
"In powerful individuals."
"In influential organizations."
"In those who believe they control everything."
The old man's expression remained calm—but inside, even he could feel the weight behind those words.
Ansh continued,
"And we won't take years to establish our name."
A faint smirk appeared.
"We'll do it within a month."
That statement alone was enough to shock anyone present.
Even the old man couldn't ignore it this time.
"…A month?" he repeated slowly.
Ansh nodded.
"Yes."
His voice was firm.
"For that, we need a target."
"Not just any target…"
He stepped forward slightly.
"But one that holds weight."
"One that is just below the top three organizations in the nation."
The old man's eyes sharpened.
"I see…"
Ansh continued,
"And more importantly…"
"That organization must have an enemy."
"A powerful one."
"One that stands on equal footing."
"One that is already at each other's throats."
A brief silence followed.
The old man understood immediately.
"You intend to use their conflict…"
"…to announce our presence."
Ansh smiled faintly.
"Exactly."
He folded his arms.
"So tell me, old man…"
"Which organization fits that description?"
The old man closed his eyes for a moment.
Thinking.
Analyzing.
Sorting through countless connections, hidden networks, and pieces of information he had gathered over the years.
A few seconds later—
he opened his eyes.
"I have a few in mind."
Ansh nodded.
"Good."
"Select one."
The old man looked at him.
"You're leaving the choice to me?"
Yes.
Ansh replied without hesitation.
"You know this world better than I do."
"You know which conflict is the most intense…"
"…and which one will give us the biggest impact."
A pause.
"And most importantly…"
"…which one won't backfire on us immediately."
The old man gave a slight nod.
"Understood."
Ansh then added,
"Once you've selected the organization…"
"Contact them."
"Propose a deal."
The old man raised an eyebrow.
"What kind of deal?"
Ansh's expression turned completely cold.
"Assassination."
A brief silence filled the room.
"We will eliminate their rival."
"And in return…"
He paused slightly.
"…we won't take gold."
That caught the old man's attention.
"…Then what?"
Ansh's lips curved slightly.
"Weapons."
"High-grade weapons."
"In large quantities."
Another silence.
Now even the old man was fully focused.
"…You're planning ahead."
Ansh didn't deny it.
"I always do."
The old man thought for a moment, then asked,
"And the amount?"
Ansh waved his hand casually.
"That…"
"I'll leave to you."
"You decide how much we take."
"You know their limits better than I do."
The old man nodded slowly.
"Understood."
Then Ansh added one final thing—
his tone calm, but commanding.
"And from this point onward…"
"You will act as the head of this organization."
The old man's eyes widened slightly.
"…Me?"
Ansh nodded.
"Yes."
"You will be the face."
"The one who deals with other organizations."
"The one they see…"
"…and fear."
A brief silence followed.
The old man looked at him carefully.
"And you?"
Ansh turned slightly, his gaze drifting toward the shadows of the underground base.
"I'll remain behind the scenes."
His voice lowered.
"Unknown."
"Unseen."
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
"Because the one in the shadows…"
"…is always the most dangerous."
The old man stared at him for a few seconds.
Then—
slowly—
he smiled.
A rare expression.
"…Very well, young master."
"I will handle it."
Ansh nodded.
"Good."
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