SFRW-Chapter 148

Ch. 148 Sword God From The Ruined World

“Where did you say?”  

“T Group.”  

Park Sung-wook’s voice remained characteristically businesslike, devoid of personal emotion—delivering only precise facts.  

Some guild members found his tone distant, but despite his usual cadence, the subtle tremor in his eyes betrayed him. He knew exactly what T Group meant to Seo Do-jun.  

“And that was the only option?”  

Though Seo Do-jun’s tone was neutral, the sticky undercurrent of displeasure coiled around Sung-wook tighter than expected.  

“Two other parties expressed interest in selling,” Sung-wook replied, meeting Seo Do-jun’s gaze head-on. “But their asking prices were over three times the market rate. T Group offered the exact market value—with room for negotiation.”  

Three times the market rate.  

Seo Do-jun’s lips twisted.  

Even in a speculative real estate boom, demanding triple the current value was outright theft. The market price had already skyrocketed twentyfold in a year—now they wanted to inflate it further?  

‘Should I just crash the land values?’  

The solution was simple: move out.  

While prices wouldn’t plummet immediately—given the heavy investments—the decline over time would be inevitable. The land’s twentyfold surge had been fueled by Seo Do-jun’s presence; his departure would reset it to fair value.  

‘Maybe I should’ve settled on the outskirts from the start.’  

Regret flickered as he recalled the circumstances that had led him here.  

“What’s their real motive?”  

Selling at market rate made no long-term sense for T Group. They weren’t cash-strapped, and holding the land guaranteed appreciation. Their offer reeked of ulterior motives.  

“There was a condition,” Park Sung-wook admitted.  

Of course.  

Seo Do-jun waited, arms crossed.  

“The land T Group acquired borders yours directly and is the largest parcel,” Sung-wook explained. Seo Do-jun already knew this—T Group had been the most aggressive buyer during the initial frenzy, amassing nearly double his holdings.  

Rumors swirled about luxury apartments, villas for the elite, or even a private compound for the T Group ownership family. But the land sat idle, and Seo Do-jun had grown wary. Apartments meant noise—something he refused to tolerate.  

“This makes their land the most ideal for your needs,” Park Sung-wook added cautiously before revealing the catch: “They requested space to build a single residence—even a small one—on the edge.”  

“For the owner’s family?”  

“Likely.”  

Seo Do-jun’s smirk turned icy. “Find land on Seoul’s outskirts instead.”  

Park Sung-wook exhaled softly, unsurprised. But relocating now was no simple feat. Seo Do-jun’s current home was a masterpiece—Park Sung-wook’s magnum opus—barely lived in for a year. And what of the Casserian Guild’s headquarters?  

Yet Park Sung-wook knew this outburst was emotional. Calmly, he persuaded Seo Do-jun to at least meet with T Group’s chairman, Seo Kyung-chul, before deciding.  

“Schedule it for tonight,” Seo Do-jun said. Delaying served no purpose.  

Despite the abrupt demand, Chairman Seo Kyung-chul agreed immediately. The venue? His private residence—the very house where Seo Do-jun’s childhood had unraveled.  

***

“Welcome. The chairman is expecting you.”  

A bowing secretary ushered Seo Do-jun through the grandiose gates. His expression stayed blank as he walked the manicured lawn.  

‘Seo Do-jun. What face would you have made?’  

The last time the real Seo Do-jun had taken this path, he’d been cast out in disgrace. Seven years later, the tables had turned.  

The original might’ve been drowning in emotions, but the current Seo Do-jun felt nothing.  

Inside, the household awaited:  

– Seo Min-chae, the spitting image of her vile mother, Hong Hee-joo.  

– Seo Min-hee, who resembled her father.  

– Seo Min-yul, the child whose birth had sealed Seo Do-jun’s exile.  

Seo Min-chae opened her mouth to greet him. Seo Do-jun ignored her.  

Seo Min-hee froze, while Seo Min-yul—just a toddler when Seo Do-jun was expelled—starred with starry-eyed curiosity.  

‘A year younger than Eun-young. I feel nothing for you, but…’  

This wasn’t the time for pleasantries. He strode past him.  

“You’re here. Let’s have dinner—”  

“Do you think I came to socialize?” Seo Do-jun cut in, already turning to leave. “If you’re hungry, I’ll return in an hour.”  

Chairman Seo Kyung-chul emerged, waving off the formality. “Dinner can wait.”  

Their eyes met. The chairman clicked his tongue.  

‘Why did I discard such a man?’  

Regret—an emotion he’d never anticipated—gnawed at him. His stubbornness had forged this reality. There was no one to blame but himself.  

In the parlor, the chairman settled onto a sofa. Seo Do-jun sat opposite.  

“It’s been years since you left—”  

“Are we discussing land or nostalgia?” Seo Do-jun interrupted. “One more off-topic word, and I walk.”  

Seo Min-chae and Seo Min-hee gaped. No one had ever spoken to the chairman this way. More shocking was his meek nod of acquiescence.  

“My apologies,” Chairman Seo said.  

Face-to-face, he finally understood Seo Jung-jin’s warnings. He’d assumed blood would prevail—that after paying for his mistakes, Seo Do-jun would relent.  

He’d been wrong.  

‘You’ve changed completely.’  

This wasn’t the weak boy he remembered. The familiar face belonged to a stranger.  

‘This won’t be easy. But the responsibility is mine.’  

For the next hour, the chairman treated Seo Do-jun strictly as the Casserian Guild Master—no familial pretense. A statesman’s demeanor.  

Seo Jung-jin remained silent on the sidelines. Seo Min-chae and the others stood like statues.  

Finally, they reached an agreement: Seo Do-jun would purchase T Group’s land.  

“Thank you for accepting my terms,” the chairman said, smiling.  

The condition? A 495 square meter plot reserved for a residence—far smaller than Seo Do-jun’s current home. Yet the chairman seemed satisfied.  

“Let me be clear: there will be no relationship between us,” Seo Do-jun stated.  

The chairman nodded, his expression unreadable. Seo Do-jun knew his game: proximity would soften resentment over time.  

Disgusting—but the deal was too advantageous to refuse. T Group offered the land at half market rate and would construct facilities for the Black Tigers. No sentimental past could justify rejecting such terms.  

“Director Park Sung-wook will finalize details tomorrow.”  

As Seo Do-jun stood to leave, the chairman extended his hand.  

“A handshake, at least?”  

“…Fine.”  

Their hands met. No warmth.  

***  

 Outside, Seo Min-hee and Seo Min-yul followed.  

Unlike Seo Min-chae—Hong Hee-ju’s carbon copy—Seo Min-hee had always been quiet.  

“Brother,” she said. “I’m sorry. Back then, if I’d—”  

“The past is past,” Seo Do-jun cut in. “We were never family. Let’s keep ignoring each other.”  

Had Seo Min-hee secretly supported Seo Do-jun, his life might’ve been less bleak. But that history meant nothing to the current Seo Do-jun.  

Seo Min-yul, oblivious to the past, piped up: “Can I call you brother?”  

His resemblance to the chairman was uncanny. This child—the reason for Seo Do-jun’s exile—would likely spend his life in his shadow.  

Seo Do-jun knew the weight of a life dictated by others’ choices.  

“Don’t call me anything.”  

He walked away without looking back.  

From a second-floor window, Chairman Seo Kyung-chul watched, aged a decade in an instant. Seo  Min-hee and Seo Min-yul had been his last hope—a bridge to Seo Do-jun’s emotions.  

But the icy rejection only underscored how much the boy had inherited his own stubbornness.  

“That child… I was the one who abandoned him,” he murmured to the empty room. “This is all my fault.”  

***  

The land deal proceeded swiftly. With Casserian Guild funds, purchasing was effortless. T Construction even handled building the tiger enclosures.  

Rumors of reconciliation between Seo Do-jun and Chairman Seo Kyung-chul spread. The P Group panicked—their chairman’s repeated missteps had already sent their standing plummeting. If T Group allied with Casserian, P’s top position was doomed.  

But investigations revealed no connection. Still, the business and Hero worlds remained wary.  

Meanwhile, Seo Do-jun focused inward.  

At Boramae Park—a site damaged during a rift incident eight years prior—95 Black Tigers were temporarily housed behind barricades and custom containers. Three shifts of guild members stood guard.  

Though no one dared approach, drones buzzed incessantly.  

Crash!  

Kang Cheon-wuk scowled at the drone he’d just downed with a rock. “Don’t they get bored? What’s so interesting?”  

“Come on, you’re curious too,” Park Seung-ho laughed, eyeing the wreckage. “How much do these cost? We’ve smashed a hundred today alone.”  

“Worried they’ll run out of money?”  

Corporations, high-rank Heroes, foreign agents—they could launch a thousand drones daily if they wished. These timid attempts were just to avoid provoking Casserian’s wrath.  

“Pointless. Satellites are watching anyway,” Park Seung-ho said, pointing skyward.  

Kang Cheon-wuk grumbled about privacy violations.  

Then—  

“Guild Master’s here!”  

Seo Do-jun arrived unannounced, followed by Choi Cheol-gwan.  

“Sir!”  

“At ease,” Seo Do-jun said.  

“What brings you here?” Park Seung-ho asked.  

Choi Cheol-gwan smiled. “You’ll see.”