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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: What's My Price Tag?
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"Alright, we're here."
"We get out here...?"
"Yeah, get out. I'm not planning to sell you kids off, so quit making those funeral faces."
There are plenty of hotels with long histories.
And plenty of expensive, high-class ones too.
But when it came to the absolute pinnacle, the name that always came up was one place.
Hotel Leviathan.
The oldest hotel with an ancient history, and at the same time, the greatest one that had never once stepped down from the top spot.
Many had eyed that position.
But not a single hotel had ever threatened Leviathan.
That was how Hotel Leviathan had earned its reputation as the best of the best.
"Take it slow, nice and easy. Don't go jumping out and hurting yourselves..."
Thud thud crash!
"Waaah!"
"I told you to take it slow! Hey, anyone got any medicine? Medicine? Put some red stuff on this kid."
And Leviathan was just as selective about its guests as its towering reputation demanded.
New money got turned away at the door as standard procedure.
Even major power brokers in politics and business, A-list actors, or renowned scholars had to wait years for a reservation. That was common knowledge.
Heck, just managing to book a stay was seen as proof of elite status.
Patronizing Leviathan was that difficult.
"Everyone out now? Let's see, twenty, twenty-one... Huh? Where'd those two go?"
"..."
"What are you two doing hiding behind the seats? Come on out already."
"N-No! You're gonna sell us!"
"I'm not selling you."
"Liar! The director said human traffickers are all liars!"
"Just where do I look like a human trafficker?"
"Um... everywhere?"
Thwack!
"Ow!"
"Is mouthing off a Hanbit Orphanage special trait or something? Geez, these kids and their gaps in judgment..."
In that sense, the scene unfolding right now...
In the VIP underground parking lot was unprecedented in the entire history of Hotel Leviathan.
Whining about being hungry was tame by comparison.
A kid crying over a scraped knee.
A little one rolling on the ground after a flick to the forehead.
A girl with the dead eyes of someone already sold into slavery.
And a newborn stinking up the place from a dirty diaper, to boot.
The sight of around twenty kids swarming in front of a yellow school bus was utterly out of place for Leviathan.
But he didn't flinch.
He simply bowed politely at the waist.
"Welcome to Hotel Leviathan."
"Hm?"
The white-haired man who had been dragging the kids out of the school bus one by one.
Rimon turned his head slightly.
And upon seeing the elderly man in a crisp suit greeting him, he made a surprised face.
"That voice sounds familiar."
"If you're asking whether I'm the one you spoke with earlier on the phone, then yes, I am."
"Ho?"
Rimon's expression grew even stranger.
Because he could guess the old man's identity.
"Didn't expect the general manager to come out personally to greet us."
That was no small thing.
True to its supreme reputation, the position of general manager at Hotel Leviathan was far from lowly.
Even if a prime minister from some country visited, the manager would only issue orders from behind the scenes—personally greeting guests was exceedingly rare.
But the old man replied calmly.
"When it's the Sword Duke himself, it's only right that I handle it personally."
A polite response and impeccable demeanor.
But Rimon caught the implication hidden within, and a sly smile crept onto his face.
"That's funny. Last time I was here, seeing the general manager's face was like pulling teeth."
"Last time, you weren't here as a guest."
"So, I look like a guest this time?"
"Don't I?"
It happened in an instant.
The old man, polite in manner but cold in the eyes. Rimon, smiling but gripping his sword hilt.
The moment their gazes crossed, the air around them turned frigid.
Like a powder keg with a dropped match.
Or a dam on the verge of collapse.
The eerie tension that sent chills down the spine just watching it...
Melted away as Rimon let out a chuckle.
"You already know, so why ask?"
Rimon glanced back at the kids.
Understanding the meaning, the old man bowed politely once more.
"...My apologies for the rudeness."
"No need for apologies. You're just doing your job."
Rimon smirked.
Truth be told, not drawing a blade the moment he arrived was already more hospitality than expected.
And that was only possible because he'd brought the kids along.
If Rimon had come alone, the old man would've fought tooth and nail to keep him from setting foot here.
Of course, that included the standing order to treat Rimon with maximum courtesy.
Knowing that better than anyone, Rimon didn't fault the old man's sharp reception.
He simply confirmed his purpose in coming.
"Where is she?"
"Waiting on the top floor."
"Hmm? Can I head up right away? No pat-down or anything?"
"What kind of search would mean anything to the Sword Duke?"
"Well, fair point."
As if letting the world's most horrific human weapon waltz in made any security check worthwhile.
Rimon nodded in agreement at the old man's retort, which held no sarcasm—just pure sincerity.
Then he asked casually.
"Can you watch the kids until I'm done talking?"
"This is Hotel Leviathan."
The moment the old man replied steadily...
Maids in elegant uniforms.
A doctor carrying a medical bag.
Suit-clad men armed with swords.
Twenty-three hotel staff appeared behind the children.
Only after seeing them skillfully soothe, treat, and escort the frightened kids did Rimon nod in satisfaction and saunter off.
"Take good care of them. They're probably hungry, so feed them something tasty. Oh, and I can't pay?"
Rimon didn't ask.
Whether he could trust them with the kids.
Leviathan wasn't petty enough to hold kids hostage.
"No need to worry. Meals for your group are already prepared, and all services are complimentary."
The old man didn't confirm either.
Whether it was safe to let Rimon in.
Rimon wasn't the type to bring kids to a place where he'd draw his sword.
They weren't close by any means.
But precisely because of that, despite being strangers, they trusted each other more than friends. Together, Rimon and the old man boarded the elevator straight to the top floor.
As it ascended, Rimon asked as if it had just occurred to him.
"By the way, I don't think I've caught your name yet."
"...I've been remiss in introductions."
Even though he'd deliberately held off.
The old man pulled a straight face and opened his mouth with utmost courtesy.
"Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Youin of the Black Heaven Dark Soul Style."
"Youin, huh... I'll remember that."
Ding.
Rimon repeated the name to himself as he stepped slowly out of the elevator.
And in the dazzlingly opulent penthouse that occupied the entire top floor of Hotel Leviathan, he greeted the person waiting for him.
"Welcome, Sword Duke."
"Yeah, good to see you again."
Before the Seven Dragon Society surfaced.
Back when they lurked in the shadows, plotting to overthrow the world.
Youin—one of the few survivors at Rimon's hands and inheritor of one of the Seventy-Two Martial Forms, the Seven Dragon Society's supreme arts.
The only one who could order him to receive Rimon as a guest.
The owner of Hotel Leviathan—one of the seven pillars of the Seven Dragon Group, said to possess all the world's wealth.
Rimon grinned at the girl in Eastern-style dress.
"Princess of the Black Dragon Clan."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Mm, before we get to the main topic, one thing I'm curious about."
"What might that be?"
"Where'd you get the school bus? We don't have those in this country."
Li Chingwei's answer was simple.
"I had it airlifted from the United States."
"...But it got here in less than an hour?"
"We used space movement."
"So that 'airlift' meant space movement, not air transport..."
Rimon clicked his tongue.
With the rise of Players, space movement had become far more common than in the old days.
But that was relative.
In absolute terms, it was still a rare ability, especially long-distance jumps—and Players who could do that were exceptionally scarce.
Yet she'd crossed the Pacific with it. A whole school bus, no less?
The shipping fee alone could've bought hundreds of buses.
'Fitting for the Seven Dragon Society's princess, I suppose?'
But Rimon also understood.
The Seven Dragon Society had always been drowning in cash.
Even after the seven dragons died and the Bronze Age ended, they'd held their power for centuries thanks to that wealth.
And legitimizing under the Seven Dragon Group name had only multiplied it.
For Li Chingwei, princess of the Black Dragon Clan, throwing around that kind of money was hardly a waste.
'But look at me...'
Hundreds of years old, and his net worth was 37,000 won in his pocket.
Feeling a pang of regret for his life choices, Rimon grumbled inwardly.
"Before we get to the main topic, can I ask something too?"
"Hm? What?"
"You told me to pass on that you'd been fired from your government job. Was that in the sense I'm thinking?"
She must have been really hopeful.
Her eyes sparkled with joy and anxiety as she asked.
Rimon answered Li Chingwei flatly.
"No."
"...Pardon?"
"I can't say if it's the meaning you're thinking until you tell me what that is. You think I'm some psychic who can read minds like you?"
"Ah... right."
Li Chingwei looked relieved.
She straightened her posture, her face far more composed now, and asked again.
"Then let me rephrase. Did you come here meaning to accept the proposal I made before?"
Just a few days ago.
Li Chingwei's proposal when she'd come to him.
A bold-to-the-point-of-absurd marriage proposal he'd shot down without a second thought. Shrugging, Rimon replied.
"Well, for starters."
"'For starters' means you might still turn me down."
"Yeah."
"May I ask why?"
Li Chingwei wasn't disappointed.
She simply asked out of pure curiosity.
Why Rimon would come all this way just to give such a vague answer.
"If the goods change, the price has to change too. That's basic trade."
"Price... of the goods?"
"Yeah. I've been living too modestly all this time, so I figured I'd get a little greedy."
"...?"
"With that in mind, let me ask..."
Li Chingwei's face grew more confused, as if she understood less now than before.
Rimon smirked at her.
He draped his arms over the sofa back, striking a haughty pose, and asked.
"How much can you pay for me?"
Stunned by the unexpected question for a moment...
Li Chingwei glanced at Rimon's face cautiously and asked to confirm.
"Um... so you're asking how much dowry I can offer?"
"Something like that."
"I see."
As if it finally clicked.
Li Chingwei nodded.
She pondered as if calculating something, then smiled brightly.
"Then how about 49% of the Hotel Leviathan shares?"