Chapter 48: Here for the Free Food
A-Ji was behind the wheel while Ji-Ga sat in the front passenger seat. Donape sat in the back of the limousine, sitting as straight as a schoolboy taking his first ride in a luxury car.
"Sir, you look very dapper tonight. That is an impressive suit," Ji-Ga complimented politely, glancing back.
"Thank you," Donape replied with a gentle smile. "Though it’s just a cheap set that cost 400 BC. I hope it won’t be seen as an insult to the Patriarch’s lavish birthday banquet."
Although it was cheap by high-society standards, to Donape, it was the most expensive piece of clothing he had ever owned.
He knew expensive clothes offered better quality, but he held a strict principle: there was a logical cap where price actually matched quality.
To him, a suit costing a few hundred BC hit the sweet spot for comfort, durability, and style. Anything costing thousands or tens of thousands of Blue Star Credits was just an absurd mark-up for brand recognition. After all, the material was basically the same—and it wasn’t like a 50,000 BC jacket could stop a bullet or a knife.
Of course, if people bought them for personal satisfaction or prestige, he wouldn’t argue. To each their own.
In the front seat, Ji-Ga glanced over at A-Ji, genuinely impressed by Donape’s effort to buy a proper suit for the occasion.
To men who had spent their lives serving the elite circles of mega-corporations and ancient martial arts families, a 400 BC suit wasn’t just cheap—it was practically bottom-of-the-barrel. Their young master, Ji-Hong, easily dropped 25,000 to 50,000 BC on a casual outfit without blinking, while high-ranking family heads wore bespoke suits valued in the hundreds of thousands.
What neither of them realized, however, was that Donape was secretly bleeding inside, still grieving the loss of 400 BC on an outfit he had no idea when he’d ever wear again.
The rest of the drive passed in comfortable silence.
Soon, the limousine pulled up to the sprawling gates of the Baek Family Mountain Compound.
Before they stepped out, A-Ji and Ji-Ga gave Donape a quick briefing on the venue’s layout and the basic etiquette expected of a guest. Donape nodded in understanding. Their advice aligned perfectly with his own master plan: stay invisible, complete the System quest peacefully, and go home.
Stepping out of the car, the first thing that struck him was the sheer scale of the security. The perimeter was crawling with elite private contractors, heavily backed by official S City police escorts.
It was crazy, but that was the reality of top-tier elite families—they could mobilize government resources for their own private parties with just the flick of a finger.
Was it disgusting? Not particularly.
To Donape, this was simply normal. Sure, it was inherently wrong for public facilities and tax-funded police to be used so carelessly by the rich. But he wasn’t a philosopher or a hero. He wasn’t blind to the rotten reality deeply ingrained in the government system, but he also had no interest in trying to fix it.
He was just a shop owner trying to survive a mandatory System quest.
Guided by A-Ji and Ji-Ga, Donape stepped through the main security checkpoint. Even with two of Ji-Hong’s personal subordinates leading him, the guards still demanded his digital invitation pass.
Every detail was meticulously logged—arrival times, attire, accompanying guests, and security clearance levels.
Once past the checkpoint, Donape was met with an astounding sight.
The main hall was nearly the size of half a football field, illuminated so brightly that the night outside felt like broad daylight. People drifted through the pristine venue wearing aristocratic authority like a fine cloak. Endless banquet tables were stacked with exquisite gourmet dishes and rare wines, while right in the center of the hall stood a sleek, slightly elevated oval arena for martial arts demonstrations.
As Donape was quietly admiring the atmosphere—and silently planning to sit near the food tables—he spotted Ji-Hong and Butler Lee approaching.
"Haha! Thank you for coming, Boss Don!" Ji-Hong greeted him loudly.
Before Donape could even react, the young master threw his arms around him in an enthusiastic hug.
A few nearby guests turned at the sudden, loud greeting, but upon seeing Ji-Hong, their expressions quickly melted into mild disdain or brief amusement before they looked away indifferently.
Butler Lee immediately stepped forward, wincing as he pulled Ji-Hong back, his voice a harsh whisper. "Young Master, maintain your demeanor! There are far too many eyes here—you cannot act as you wish!"
To the high-society elites and the younger martial prodigies from the Nam and Jin families, Baek Ji-Hong was a non-entity. He was merely the crippled, martial-less grandson—a forgotten black sheep who held no power, no future, and zero threat. His lack of manners was expected from someone so thoroughly discarded by fate.
As for Donape, standing beside the useless young master, he was casually written off as just another obscure, unimportant follower Ji-Hong had dragged along.
However, among the third generation of the Baek Family, Baek Si-Yeon stared at Donape with a sharp, hawk-like gaze.
’So, that shopkeeper came on behalf of that wastrel? Does that idiot plan to let that young man participate in the friendly sparring exchange?’ she thought.
To her, Ji-Hong was indeed a wastrel—but Donape was an entirely different story. Even if she referred to him as a "shopkeeper," she secretly considered him an expert after witnessing the ridiculous demonstration he had shown weeks ago alongside her grandfather, Baek Si-Jin.
Curious about what kind of hidden relationship the family’s wastrel could have with such a figure, she watched them with quiet intrigue.
From Si-Yeon’s perspective, however, nothing particularly special stood out about Ji-Hong and Donape’s relationship.
As the two of them settled down at a table to eat, she overheard another cousin snort in contempt.
"Hah! That wastrel drags in random nobody friends and gets away with it. The Patriarch really spoils that useless brat way too much," he scoffed.
The speaker was Ji-Hong’s eldest cousin, Baek Su-Hong. At twenty-eight years old—eight years Ji-Hong’s senior—he possessed the ideal, muscular physique of a seasoned martial artist.
Despite his martial talent, Su-Hong had a garbage personality and loved picking on the weak. With gold earrings and intricate tattoos covering his right arm, he looked more like a street thug than a high-society heir.
As a third-generation descendant from the eldest branch—the grandson of Elder Baek Su-Su, the Patriarch’s older sister—Su-Hong acted with absolute impunity within the family.
"Watch your language, Big Brother. There are too many ears around," another voice chimed in. "Try not to embarrass us in front of the guests."
The speaker was Baek Li-Jae, the twenty-two-year-old grandson of the fourth sibling, Elder Baek Li-Si. Highly intelligent and exceptionally skilled in martial arts, Li-Jae maintained a polite demeanor on the surface, though his speech was notoriously sharp and blunt.
"Younger Li-Jae is right, Big Brother. We ought to watch our words," added Baek Su-Jae, Su-Hong’s twenty-five-year-old younger brother. "After all, our youngest, Si-Yeon, is sitting right here. None of us have the right to act presumptuously in front of the strongest among us."
Despite being full brothers, Su-Jae and Su-Hong shared a notoriously icy relationship. Unlike his brute force elder brother, Su-Jae was a viper—polite, calculated, and deadly with his tongue.
In total, the third generation of the Baek Family consisted of thirteen grandchildren. They ranged from twenty-eight-year-old Baek Su-Hong down to nineteen-year-old Baek Si-Yeon—the undisputed prodigy who won almost every annual sparring exchange, with only Su-Hong and Li-Jae occasionally managing to steal a victory.
Historically, the winner of the annual friendly exchange was granted a single wish by Patriarch Baek Ji-Sung.
However, that grand tradition came to a sudden halt seven years ago after Su-Hong won and used his wish for something far too ambitious: he demanded the immediate start of the Third-Generation Succession Selection.
Since the second-generation heir had already been decided—Ji-Hong’s father, Baek Ji-Gal—the cousins were now fiercely competing to become the designated candidate for the generation after him.
And because Ji-Hong was a crippled wastrel unable to cultivate, the other cousins smelled blood in the water. They viewed Ji-Hong’s branch as vulnerable, eager to crush his standing and strip away any political advantage his father held.
Su-Hong smirked, leaning forward over the table and resting his forearm heavily on the cloth. "The strongest, my ass. Right, dear youngest? This time, I’m going to beat you mercilessly and make you prostrate before me. After that, I’ll force the Patriarch to launch the Succession Selection once and for all!"
Si-Yeon didn’t flinch, her expression remaining entirely flat. But behind her calm eyes, her mind raced.
’So this is what Grandfather meant when he said tonight’s exchange would be different. With this much momentum behind forcing the Succession Selection, the Patriarch won’t be able to ignore it no matter who wins.’
She glanced subtly around the table, realizing her other cousins likely shared the same ambition. Whether they won the sparring match or not, they intended to push the issue together. Backed by their connections to the high-ranking government officials attending the banquet, the collective political pressure wouldn’t be so easily dismissed this time.
But as the cousins silently measured one another, a voice suddenly piped up from right behind them.
"What are you guys talking about? Sounds like fun! Why wasn’t I invited?"
The voice was light, but it carried a deep, serene resonance.
The cousins froze, shock washing over their faces as they spun around. Ji-Hong was standing right beside them—having approached completely undetected, his presence suppressed so flawlessly through his mastery of Heavenly Martial Arts that not a single one of them had felt him move.
He offered them a bright, innocent smile.