The Second Coming of Gluttony - Chapter 137

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 137. One Who Would Wear the Crown

His business was done. His provisions gathered.
[Outside! Outside!]
“…….”
Seol Jihoo turned his steps back toward the exit, his mood complex and subtle over the unexpected companion he now had to carry along.
The journey back proved largely uneventful, save for one harrowing brush with danger that had nearly ended badly. In truth, as a notoriously unstable southern frontier zone, the land should have been perilous by nature.
A lone traveler bold enough to venture alone made an easy target for any predator—and Other Species with an appetite for flesh would never willingly let slip such a delicacy if fortune smiled upon their discovery.
Thus a pack of seven Other Species set upon him, swallowing saliva eagerly as the hunt began. Only when half their numbers lay crumpled from the Ice Spear and Cold Compress did they finally grasp the situation, and they fled in panic, desperate for their lives.
The problem lay in what happened next: the one who escaped delivered a full account of his kin’s slaughter back to the settlement.
Had they remained docile, all would have been well. But the alpha, maddened by the deaths of his pack, declared the traveler a sworn enemy and swore a blood oath of vengeance.
Even if the traveler was strong, he was still just one. If the entire tribe waited until night when he slept, they could not fail to kill him.
The alpha, convinced by his own reasoning that he had devised a truly flawless stratagem, brimmed with confidence.
Until the moment he was struck down.
The Other Species’ first mistake was not realizing their opponent was not alone. Their second was disturbing Floné’s private entertainment.
While she was savoring the face of the man sleeping peacefully beside her, her quiet laughter interrupted, a sudden killing intent crashed down. Seol Jihoo’s eyes snapped open without warning.
When their eyes met unexpectedly at a distance where their noses almost touched, Floné felt a surge of shame so acute it was nearly unbearable—and shame, in an instant, twisted into inexplicable fury.
In the end, the Other Species pack responsible for this entire catastrophe rushed forward at full speed only to have Floné’s wrath descend upon them in full force.
She did not merely kill every warrior among them—she tore apart the mothers and young clinging to one another, trembling in terror, and Seol Jihoo found himself speechless at the sight.
With the tribe annihilated entirely, several Paradise residents and Earthians who had been kept like livestock in the settlement were finally released, though neither Seol Jihoo nor Floné bothered to notice.
In any case, thanks to this convenient conclusion, Seol Jihoo returned safely to Haramag and made straight for the Carpe Diem Office.
All three were out; the building stood empty.
[This is your room?]
Upon entering the quarters, the Pendant emerged and began swinging back and forth.
[Can I look around?]
“Of course.”
Grayish smoke curled from the jewel like steam, drifting through the room in a slow circle. For reference, Seol Jihoo had classified this gaseous state as Floné’s Stage One.
[A bed!]
Soon the smoke hanging in the air flickered and blazed, coalescing into a translucent form of Floné. Visible only to Seol Jihoo’s eyes, this spectral state corresponded to Stage Two.
And when even that translucency vanished, allowing anyone to see her, that was Stage Three—her materialized form.
[Wow!]
Seol Jihoo watched Floné tumble across the bed with a wry smile.
‘I was hasty again.’
He had thought that releasing the barrier and binding spell would grant her liberation, and that prediction had proven correct. Floné was now, at least, free.
The problem lay in Seol Jihoo’s assumption that freedom meant Ascension.
More precisely, from the moment resentment had twisted her into a malevolent spirit, Floné had become something akin to an Earth-bound Spirit. In simple terms, her refusal to let go of her vengeance meant she had voluntarily rejected Ascension.
‘I played both the drum and the song myself.’
What her repeated “What should I do?” questions had really meant was a plea for him to take her with him. Her requests for him to place the necklace around her neck carried the same message. And he had answered with cheerful farewells, all the while missing the point entirely.
So when the barriers and seals that had bound her in layer upon layer finally dissolved, the displaced Earth-bound Spirit claimed her former pendant as her new dwelling. Now she rested around Seol Jihoo’s neck, reveling in freedom to her heart’s content.
[Can I go out and play?]
Seol Jihoo smiled faintly. With the necklace, there was nothing to forbid.
Floné, seeing her homeland for the first time in centuries, was brimming with childlike curiosity. She would disappear at will, only to return dutifully to the Pendant to sleep.
“Where are you planning to go?”
[Sightseeing. I want to see the city.]
“You know you cannot be seen by people, yes?”
[Right.]
Floné, translucent once more, fluttered like a butterfly and passed through the window.
“And please do not kill anyone at random.”
[Got it!]
Seol Jihoo watched her fade into a speck in the distance, then sighed. “Well.” He sat on the bed, then fell backward to stare at the ceiling.
“…….”
He was still somewhat dazed. He had not expected this outcome. For someone who had only ever witnessed Ascension, this was unexpected—yet he could not bring himself to think it a bad turn of events.
Beyond other reasons, he was genuinely pleased that Floné wished, of her own will, to remain in Paradise a while longer.
‘Never thought I’d gain a ghost friend.’
Life held strange surprises, he mused, and closed his eyes gently.

Documenting findings in a journal after expeditions and explorations was something one ‘absolutely must’ do. One need only recall how Alex had warned the Temple of a Mole’s appearance upon arriving in Haramag, posting notice on the Plaza, or how the Lionel pack had fled to the Forest of Negation to escape Parasites.
Paradise’s ecosystem fell into disarray with alarming frequency, making the continuous updating and sharing of local information a matter of such importance that it could reasonably be called an unwritten law. Knowing simply that “Monster B has appeared in Region A” could increase survival rates exponentially.
Seol Jihoo had received the invitation from the Haramag Royal Family’s court mage for similar reasons. Ian had asked for his help recording the fifth banquet.
He’d heard talk of it once at a tavern over drinks, but there was a world of difference between half-listening over alcohol and carefully documenting precise information.
The court mage’s private study was lined with bookshelves on all sides, reminiscent of a small library.
Ian sat among the books wearing spectacles, his fountain pen moving quietly—a sight so different from his usual composed demeanor that Seol Jihoo found it refreshing. He’d agreed readily enough, partly to see the princess after so long and partly to bring a gift, but Teresa was away on business.
According to Ian, she was off making rounds with the village chief of Raman Village in Aden Gorge.
Still, learning that the chief’s knowledge had given momentum to the plans for fortifying Aden Gorge filled him with quiet satisfaction.
Seol Jihoo helped review the records section by section and explained why the ghost saint had been angry, but when Ian remarked, “You could’ve just told her you weren’t coming. That saint’s got such a narrow mind,” he nearly panicked. He spent considerable effort quietly restraining Floné, who howled that she’d pluck every whisker from the old man’s beard.
He soothed the spirited Floné by praising how beautiful the Central Lake of the Royal Capital was, coaxed her out, and had just finished most of the record review when
Ian, who had been silently absorbed in the documentation, suddenly spoke.
“Feeling any better?”
“I’m sorry?”
“When you first arrived, your face looked clouded with worry.”
Seol Jihoo laughed weakly.
“There’s always something to worry about.”
“Ah, the old saying—a tree with many branches catches every wind. What’s troubling you now?”
“Well… I’m not entirely sure.”
Seol Jihoo clasped his hands behind his head, fingers scratching at the nape of his neck.
“I suppose it’s that I don’t know what to do, or where to start….”
“Hmm.”
Ian asked without lifting his eyes from the record.
“By the way—you’re Level 3 now, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Since you’ve cleared Stage 3, you could probably reach Level 4 if you set your mind to it.”
“Possibly.”
“Heh, I’m only Level 4 myself, and already we’re at the same rank….”
Ian shook his head slowly.
“Couldn’t you rise to an upper rank if you wanted to, Ian?”
“I haven’t yet grasped the truth. And even if I had, it wouldn’t change the fact that your rate of growth is remarkable. Well, you’ve been accomplishing impossible feats since the start, so I can’t complain.”
After all, from Level 1 onward, he’d been pulling off missions that defied belief, one after another, so his growth curve had no choice but to be steep.
“In any case, Level 4… it seems the time to begin preparing in earnest is approaching.”
Ian drew a long breath and nodded quietly. After remaining silent and focused on the records for some time,
“There’s a saying,”
he suddenly spoke.
“He who would wear the crown must bear its weight.”
The word “crown” struck Seol Jihoo like a blow.
Kazuki said things like that, and Ian too. Was it really that obvious?
“It seems to me you want to take on the role of leader of Team Carpe Diem. Is that correct?”
When Ian asked to confirm, Seol Jihoo nodded in affirmation.
“Then do you know the difference between a leader and a team member? What’s the most important quality a leader must have?”
“The ability to read the situation, perhaps?”
“If I wanted to hear something that obvious, I wouldn’t have bothered asking.”
Seol Jihoo paused to think before answering.
“Strength, I believe.”
“Strength? You don’t mean martial prowess?”
“Not so much individual combat ability… I suppose I mean the strength of the group.”
Ian tilted his head and stroked his beard slowly.
“That’s far too broad. If I had to pin it down, I’d say a leader needs diplomatic ability.”
“Diplomatic ability?”
“That’s right. It’s been more than ten years since Paradise opened and this world entered its current flow. And now, depending on their aims, countless interest groups and organizations coexist in this landscape.”
……
“To survive in such a cramped space, diplomacy is absolutely essential, wouldn’t you say?”
Though he posed the question, Seol Jihoo looked uncertain. Ian clicked his tongue.
“Mm… What is the purpose of the team you’re trying to create?”
As Seol Jihoo began to speak, Ian asked again.
“And how exactly will you build it? How many members are you thinking? What are your selection criteria? What’s your primary recruitment strategy?”
Seol Jihoo’s face grew increasingly pale as he listened.
“You haven’t thought it through in detail, have you. You probably haven’t even spoken of it yet.”
Ian sighed heavily.
“Purpose is certainly important, as it determines the nature and character of a team. But thinking alone won’t suffice. You must speak it aloud and act on it directly—only then does your scent begin to imprint itself, and flesh begin to cling to the bones of your vision.”
“I suppose so.”
“Take Dylan, for instance. He’s lived up to the name Carpe Diem perfectly—seize the day, as it were. A small elite team would’ve been more than sufficient for that philosophy. But your purpose isn’t Carpe Diem, is it?”
Seol Jihoo nodded, rubbing his face.
“I understand your meaning. The greater the ambition, the heavier the burden. I’d have hesitated too, in your shoes.”
Ian clicked his tongue.
“All the same, since your purpose approaches something closer to an ideal, you’ll inevitably need to grow beyond a team into an organization. And as you scale up, you’ll find yourself tested in diplomacy more often than not.”
“You mean diplomacy isn’t just between groups…”
“Of course it includes individuals too. Put it plainly—if some stranger walks up and says, ‘I say! Let’s save the Paradise in crisis together!’—are you going to answer, ‘Why, yes! Absolutely!’?”
“…No.”
“Precisely. You might find one or two people who share your vision, but most won’t move for ideals alone. No matter how noble or compelling the cause.”
“The Haramag Royal Family isn’t generous with rewards because they’re fools,” he added, his tone tinged with bitterness.
“So what should I do?”
“Simple enough. Gold, silver, jewels, reputation, and…”
Ian paused, then let out a low chuckle.
“Wit.”
“Wit?”
“The ingenuity you’ve shown—appeasing restless spirits with rites, devising clever stratagems, producing rescue plans for research facilities out of nowhere. That kind of resourcefulness sets you apart from mere material gain. It’s your unique charm, if you ask me.”
“That’s too much.”
“Don’t say that. I’m one of the people who’s become utterly captivated by it.”
Seol Jihoo felt his cheeks prickle. He scratched at them absently.
“A great deal will change, I suspect.”
Ian exhaled a long breath.
“Your name may need to change, your base of operations might have to relocate, alliances could be redrawn, your entire roster might turn over…”
“Even Cho Hong and Hugo?”
The pen stilled. Ian glanced sideways, his voice dropping low.
“Those two are Dylan’s team members in Carpe Diem.”
“……”
“Whether they align with your vision is uncertain.”
“And if they don’t?”
“Then one option remains.”
Ian spoke plainly.
“Either you leave, or they do.”
Seol Jihoo sank back in his chair, tilting his head toward the ceiling. The high expanse above suddenly seemed to spin.
“This is difficult.”
At his sigh, Ian—who’d been watching quietly—broke into a grin.
“So, are you backing out?”
Seol Jihoo let out a small laugh and didn’t forget his thanks.
“Thank you. Every time we meet, you offer advice worth its weight in gold.”
“You’re calling a few scraps of talk precious metal? I’m in fine spirits now.”
Ian laughed heartily and set down his pen. Then his eyes fell on the equipment lying on the desk, and they lit up.
“Ah, perfect. How about I give you a homework assignment, future leader?”
“?”
“This, right here.”
Ian picked up the longsword and shield—grave goods brought from the Tomb, imperial artifacts whose value was beyond measure.
“Magnificent. You did ask me to pass them along for you.”
Ian, admiring them, held the sword and shield back out.
“You’ll give them next time. But attach a condition.”
“A condition… are you saying I should conduct an exchange?”
“Exactly. Equivalent exchange. I’ve always thought giving these away without compensation would be excessive. Whether you’re doing it for yourself or someone else doesn’t matter—just try your hand at this thing called diplomacy.”
“But— no, I understand.”
Seol Jihoo swallowed the objection rising in his throat and accepted the terms quietly. He carried some sense of debt toward Teresa, but there had to be a reason behind Ian’s assignment.
“Good. Ah, you can go now. I’ve finished all the reviews.”
“Understood.”
Seol Jihoo stood from his chair.
“Seol.”
Ian called out just as he reached the door.
“A leader isn’t made because someone tells them to be one. They become leader because they choose to. That’s the kind of role it is.”
Seol Jihoo nodded at the counsel. Ian chuckled.
“What I’m saying is, stop worrying that boy so much. By now, I’d wager he’s anxious as hell, practically steaming from the ears.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you for everything.”
With a respectful bow, Seol Jihoo left the room.
The moment the door closed, Ian took the pipe back between his teeth and picked up the fountain pen again. Smoke curled from his lips as he stared at the record with unwavering intensity.
So many lives might hang on whether someone reading this information lived or died—review could never be thorough enough.

—And thus, just as everyone had feared, the catastrophe that had occurred during the fourth banquet was on the verge of repeating itself when a young man stepped forward.
The protagonist who had brought the troubled fifth banquet back to order was none other than Seol Jihoo, a member of Carpe Diem.

Reading through Stage 2, Ian smiled softly.
Soon enough, he gripped the fountain pen firmly and, without a moment’s hesitation, struck through the phrase “a member of Carpe Diem” with decisive strokes.

Seol Jihoo’s footsteps were heavy as he walked with his gaze fixed downward. He had left the palace and passed through its main gate, yet was so lost in thought he scarcely noticed.
Even though he had expected it, confronting the reality of becoming a leader proved vastly more complicated and difficult than he had imagined.
More than anything, as Ian had said, the larger the purpose grew, the more considerations multiplied exponentially—and that burden, swelling alongside his own stature, seemed to press dull and heavy on his shoulders.
He had come to admire Dylan, of all people.
‘Money….’
All manner of thoughts churned through his mind, yet they all converged on one conclusion: money. If he had an enormous sum at his disposal, the choices available to him would expand infinitely.
Then, unexpectedly, Stage 3 surfaced in his thoughts,
‘I should have taken them.’
His mind turned to the twisted desires those who had died had possessed.
He could have collected gold coins from each one—but late regrets were useless now.
‘I can’t afford to sit idle.’
Simply having orchestrated a grand event wasn’t reason to rest and let his mind wander. Work piled before him like mountains.
Once he had steeled his resolve, his pace quickened naturally, and he soon arrived at the Carpe Diem Office.
One of Seol Jihoo’s habits was to tackle the most difficult and time-consuming tasks first when work accumulated. The moment he arrived, he entered the quarters and withdrew a crystal, channeling his mana into it.
—Huh? It’s been a while?
Kim Hanna’s familiar voice accompanied her image in the crystal.
—You’re only calling now that the banquet’s over?
“I had matters to handle. Sorry for the delay.”
—Mm, fine. But you really did something impressive this time, didn’t you?
“I suppose I did. Anyway, let’s talk about the banquet later.”
—…Huh?
Kim Hanna’s eyes, which had been crinkling with amusement, blinked in surprise.
“I need to ask you for something.”
—A favor? Did you run out of money? Want me to send some over?
“That would be nice if you could. But what I’m asking for is something different.”
Sensing the shift in his tone, Kim Hanna straightened the chair she’d been leaning back in and sat up properly.
—Why’s our boy getting all serious? It’s weird. Anyway, what is it?
“I need you to find someone for me.”
One corner of Kim Hanna’s mouth lifted slightly.
—Someone?
“Can you do it?”
—There’s nothing I can’t do. Finding and observing people is my specialty.
As a woman who had risen to the upper ranks through broker work alone, pride colored her businesslike tone.
—I want to ask why, but….
Kim Hanna trailed off as if testing the waters, then tapped her desk with her index finger.
—So who are they?
“Two people.”
Seol Jihoo’s expression had grown grave, his voice low.
“They’re blood siblings, and their names are….”

(To be continued in the next installment)

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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