Genius of unique lineage Chapter 191

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Genius of a Unique Lineage

190. I felt out of place.

“It’s unmeasurable,” said Flower.

The Chairman looked at Flower.

“Over Score?”

There were people who scored 105, 110, or 120 out of 100 points.

These were the so-called geniuses.

Listening from the side, the cold knife continued the conversation.

“This friend, he’s concealing his power. The claim that he can’t control his strength is a deception.”

If it were an Over Score, he would have just said so.

But Flower said it was unmeasurable.

The capability assessment of Dan-gun Group was not just about measuring physical conditioning.

There were limits to hardware, after all.

How could one overcome the innate strength, the monstrous power of the purebloods?

“Out of standard, unmeasurable,” reiterated Flower.

The Chairman did not click his tongue or show a smile.

‘Out of standard?’

It means that he cannot be confined within the classes created by the group. It means he’s unmeasurable, out of standard.

‘Huh.’

All emotion disappeared from the Chairman’s face.

When he gets serious, his expressions vanish. It was an old habit of his.

“Chairman.”

In the meantime, another security officer approached.

“It must be urgent if you’re interrupting now.”

“Well, you see, Mr. Kwang-ik…”

“What is it?”

Did he say he was leaving and then come back?

Wondering, the Chairman watched as the guard activated a holographic projection.

In the hologram, Kwang-ik was doing something incomprehensible.

It was the underground parking lot.

Recent security cameras could capture a clear image of someone even without light.

This building was virtually a secondary base for the Dan-gun Group.

Of course, the camera caught every move Kwang-ik made.

The hologram showed Kwang-ik taking off his clothes with abandon.

He simply stood by the car door, took off his top and bottom, placed them in the trunk, and slipped into the car.

“……He’s got a nice body,” Flower commented.

His physical perfection was evident. Having seen the bodies of countless shifters, Flower knew.

She knew the beauty of Kwang-ik’s body.

“It’s beautiful.”

She muttered absentmindedly to that degree.

To her, Kwang-ik’s body was as good as a jewel.

The Chairman, who was watching the hologram, asked.

“……Does anyone know why he’s doing that?”

“Perhaps he’s worried about dirtying the car seat?”

The security officer courageously expressed his opinion.

“Kwang-ik’s assets are close to 10 billion, right?”

Would such a person worry about dirtying a car seat?

Even in a situation where he’s causing chaos in front of his grandfather and then leaving?

“Chairman.”

It was Cold Knife’s voice.

“Do you know Mr. Kwang-ik’s nickname?”

The Chairman turned his head.

Cold Knife spoke upon seeing the gesture that meant to speak.

“Madman of World’s Best, he is called the world’s top lunatic now.”

The nickname had evolved.

From the world’s ‘best’ lunatic to the ‘strongest.’

Of course, such nicknames often started as rumors and weren’t always conveyed accurately.

“Irregular. He’s a genius in battle, but not normal otherwise, is that it?”

The Chairman muttered.

A body out of standard.

A hybrid of immortality and shifting.

The decision-making ability shown in battle.

Not everything could be put in one basket.

Only if the gods did not make mistakes could such talent be given to one person.

The Chairman had seen countless shifters, immortals, super-special species, and magicians.

Instead of born talents, there must be something lost.

A genius in battle, but a lacking child or grandchild, that might be the case.

Whether it was exhibitionism or something else, there might be a mental issue.

The Chairman felt pity.

‘Seul-hye.’

It was his daughter’s son. If he knew, surely his daughter knew too.

Even though he had forced sacrifices for the future, she was still his daughter.

Thinking of his daughter suffering because of her grandson, his mouth felt bitter.

But the Chairman quickly shook off the sentiment.

‘First.’

“Is the collapsed friend Unbi? A friend who is familiar with Kwang-ik?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Unbi and Sojin would be pleased. And you too. Support them.”

He wanted to keep a closer watch.

Not to interfere or play tricks.

He just didn’t want to see such talent rot or break somewhere else.

Of course, the Chairman was also confident that Kwang-ik would come into his embrace.

“Understood.”

Cold Knife nodded and responded to the order.

“And the thing Kwang-ik mentioned earlier, look into it.”

He did seem mentally disturbed when he asked, but he inquired about forcibly opening a black hole.

In the world of special species, anything can happen.

It was a proverb even the Chairman knew.

So, it was only natural to look into it.

“Understood.”

Flower briefly glanced at Kwang-ik’s body displayed in the hologram and answered.

Seeing this, the Chairman chuckled.

“Per her age, is she coveting my grandson?”

“How could that be? It’s just a body I want to see up close.”

What kind of training does it take to have such a body?

Flower was curious. As a scientist committed to research, it was a natural curiosity.

At the same time, another thought crossed her mind.

If she’s at this level.

If the Mad Scientist groups knew, they’d probably go after her with eyes ablaze.

“Let’s slowly look at him later. Let’s go, Sang.”

Her friend and bodyguard approached at the call.

“What’s the grandchild’s shifting form?”

“We’ll have to see him shift to know.”

The Chairman said, standing up from his seat.

It was bitter, yet there was something gained.

The existence of Kwang-ik himself.

‘Give it to him now.’

He’ll give him everything he asks for. Whatever he wants, he’ll place it in his hands.

Those who’ve once grasped it, especially the desire-driven shifters, will only want more. It’s the natural order.

Especially since the Chairman had heard that Kwang-ik was fond of money.

After retiring from the immortal special forces, he heard that Kwang-ik made a fair amount by extorting money here and there.

He even knows that Kwang-ik fleeced Nam Myung-jin, the president of Hwarim.

He laughed so hard when he first heard about it.

‘Thirst for money, huh.’

Not bad at all.

It’s standard for a shifter to burn other desires in order to control themselves.

If he filled it with material desires,

then the Chairman could satisfy those desires.

“My grandchild has grown a lot.”

The Chairman laughed heartily as he left the room.

* * *

“Son, do you want to join mom for volunteer work?”

I blinked at my mother’s suggestion.

“Why volunteer work?”

“What are you going to do with all that money you’ve saved up? Come and help take care of the children, make some donations. You should do some good deeds as a person.”

Sometimes my mother’s actions have a reason behind them.

Climbing mountains to train endurance, training to acquire necessary skills.

Or when she wants me or my father to do something.

Even for not letting us bring home garlic because cutting it pulled preserves its essence – there was always a reason in her knife work.

But sometimes, my mother does things without a reason.

If asked why, she’d say,

“Just because. It lightens my mood. You’d feel good about it too, son.”

Maybe it’s a characteristic of shifters.

The need to act on impulse.

Usually, this impulse is a quirk we use to control other desires, but my mother seems to have directed her impulse towards helping the needy.

“Then let’s do it.”

I answered and got up.

After seating my mother in the passenger seat, we sped off.

Heading towards an orphanage in a corner of Gyeonggi Province.

Mimi Orphanage or something like that.

A place that sounded as beautiful as beautiful could be.

It was a Saturday afternoon.

The roads were pretty congested. It must be past morning; it seemed like a time when many people would be out.

I remembered my dad would get off work in the afternoon.

Thinking about it, why would my mother want to leave without my father?

“We can eat lunch there.”

My mother remarked.

“Do they give a lot of food?”

“You can’t eat too much, but if you tell them you’re donating, won’t they give you plenty?”

Volunteering while unable to secure a meal.

Well, considering shifters’ tendency to loosen their belts and launch into a feast, the volunteers would end up costing more in food than helping out.

Starving the kids to feed the volunteers is quite the paradox. The phrase “the tail wagging the dog” crossed my mind, a idiom I learned from my father.

“Could you also ask dad to make some donations?”

“I did. He’s already doing it.”

“Really?”

“He’s not just doing it here, but he was already secretly contributing to other places.”

“That’s cool.”

I truly mean it, even though I’m not the type to say such things out loud. I’m grateful to be a son of such parents.

Both are generous in helping others.

Of course, I am too.

Driving silently on the congested expressway, the memory of meeting my grandfather came to mind.

Nothing special happened.

I just went to see Panda Brother on the way there.

At that moment, I came to a simple and clear conclusion.

Forcibly open a black hole?

I don’t know about that.

Just delve into what I do know.

That’s the blonde guy.

“Let’s find him.”

Panda Brother reached the same conclusion.

So, he nodded in agreement to my suggestion.

“Right. That’s the answer. Rather than getting a headache over something unknown, dig into what’s known.”

“Yes, let’s catch that guy and sift through him.”

“Tell me what you know about the blonde.”

“Blonde, yeah.”

“……”

“A man.”

“Do you know a Willer?”

“Willer? Is that bastard’s name Willer? Have you figured it out already? Oh.”

“No, never mind. You might not know, it can be like that. ‘Find Willer’ or something.”

“What’s that.”

“If you travel to Europe, blond men are so common you’d trip over them. Even in Itaewon, you’d find dozens in a single night.”

She should have said that sooner. But what more do I really know about that guy?

He was wearing press boots, a discordant outfit?

As I recalled it, I submerged myself in my memories, examining the blond man.

It was a new experience.

It felt like going back to that moment, everything felt distinctly vivid.

Was it due to my immortal lineage or my shifter heritage?

I didn’t care; I just took advantage of the opportunity given to me.

The blond man, height, build, gestures, clothing, mouth shape, facial features.

After putting everything together,

I opened my eyes again.

The scenes that felt like a dream vanished, replaced by the reality of the person in front of me.

My colleague, a team member with dark circles under his eyes.

“Did anything come to mind?”

“Do you have paper and a pen?”

“A montage?”

Panda Brother brought me paper and a pen, and I started sketching a montage.

“……Is this Stickman?”

“What’s that?”

“It exists, similar to Willer. But finding someone with this picture is really difficult. Kwang-ik, I’m serious. No matter how much you pay, this is impossible.”

“I agree.”

Even though I drew it, could this be considered a person?

It looked like it might befit alien number 18 from somewhere out there invading Earth.

Strange, I just followed my memory, but it didn’t work.

Neither the sensation of an immortal nor the physical control of a shifter was of any use here.

Drawing talent was something else entirely.

Just as I was stumped, Hyemin showed up.

“You remember? Then it’s easy.”

Magic solved the problem.

Praise for the spell, praise for the magic.

Holding the enchanted pen, my hand moved on its own, sketching the man from my memory.

The final picture differed from the first sketch.

Instead of alien number 18, the man from my memories was summoned onto a page of the notebook.

“Like this, it’s easy.”

Panda Brother said as he tore the page from the notebook.

“Is this the guy from then?”

Hyemin asked, and I nodded.

“Son, how was your grandfather?”

My mother’s voice brought me back to reality.

“Grandfather?”

I had hesitated to bring it up until now, as if my mother wasn’t keen on the topic.

Was this story also the reason she wanted to come out with me today?

I said what I felt.

“He seemed hale enough to be able to father children, mother.”

“Of course. Son, your grandfather is a pureblood shifter. But he wouldn’t do it for real, so don’t worry. You won’t have a younger uncle.”

“Right, and I guess…”

What should I say?

“He wanted to receive New Year’s bows.”

“New Year’s bows? It’s not even the New Year yet?”

“Yes, it seemed like he wanted to receive all the New Year’s bows he missed all at once.”

“Father hasn’t changed either.”

Mother said calmly.

It was a joke, but it seemed she took it in stride.

“Okay, I should see it for myself. In case grandfather asks for anything, don’t do it. Just grab whatever he gives you, son. I’ll take responsibility, so don’t worry.”

I had never worried.

“Well, um, mother. Do we really need to have this strained relationship?”

This was something I contemplated last night.

The police chief, grandfather, the military… everyone wants me.

I refused them vehemently, but as time passed, I wondered if I really needed to do that.

After contemplating, I discussed it with Panda Brother.

“You’re better than me.”

That was the response I got.

“What are you trying to say?”

I sensed my mother’s gaze.

I pressed the accelerator, looking at the road that was starting to clear.

Vroom.

It was a sports car. It ran well. I felt a sense of release.

“So, what if we just pretend to listen to them a bit?”

“Where’s the benefit in that?”

“If we give them what they want, it would be easy to ask for favors and make demands.”

Precisely, it felt like it would act as a shield for what I was planning to do.

The chief and my grandfather probably had similar thoughts.

Every beast needs a den, as the saying goes.

I suppose they think it’s tough for me to venture into the world of special species alone.

And that’s true.

I need infrastructure.

Whether it’s human or material resources.

That was the reason.

Feign cooperation while subtly using their resources.

It seemed possible.

“Hmm.”

Mother hummed at my suggestion and nodded.

“You have your mother’s brains.”

“Father would have a fit if he heard that.”

“Why?”

She blinked innocently, questioning, and as a son, I was lost for words, mother.

“He would get too excited.”

Mother laughed jovially.

At times like these, she seemed almost girlish.

As I entertained various thoughts, we arrived at Mimi Orphanage.

The car skidded to a halt.

Stepping out, I caught the stares directed at my car – everywhere I went, it automatically became the center of attention.

But mother seemed uncomfortable with it.

“I should’ve brought your father’s car.”

“Mom, let’s go. I’ll show you what flexing is all about today.”

I had in mind to donate at least a thousand dollars generously.

“I’m here.”

Mother moved forward with a bright smile.

I followed behind her.

My mother was leading by three steps.

The steps she took, the smell of grass, the air drying, the harsh autumn sun.

Everything was standard.

Except for…

What’s this feeling of dissonance?

I noticed the expression on the orphanage director’s face as she came out to meet my mother.

The smile was there for the sake of smiling, but it was stiff.

Gestures, steps, all awkward.

“Mom.”

As I called my mother, I stopped in my tracks. My instincts were sending me a warning.

Mother stopped too.

The smell of sweat, the scent of cold perspiration from tension, was stimulating the olfactory senses. Mother must have smelled it too.

“What’s the matter?”

Mother asked, bringing the director’s odd expression to light.

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