Chapter 69: Destiny Part 3

Amon had returned from his investigation of The White Dawn several months ago.

During that time, The White Dawn was acquired by Reketio Corporation. Other companies, only learning the dungeon’s secrets later, regretted not seizing the opportunity. However, by then, the dungeon had become Reketio’s permanent property.

Cassie had executed the acquisition so flawlessly that no one noticed any signs until the very day the transaction was finalized.

With a triumphant smile, she puffed out her chest in pride.

“This is what kept me pulling all-nighters for months.”

To ensure absolute secrecy, she ran the company like a fortress.

Public officials were bribed, media was tightly controlled, and distractions were orchestrated to divert attention from stock fluctuations that might reveal their intent.

As a result, no other corporations caught wind of The White Dawn being snatched away.

***

Cassie turned to Amon with a smirk.

“Amon, do you even know what you’ve brought back?”

Amon shook his head.

“A dungeon capable of yielding essences on a probabilistic basis—certainly impressive. However, the value of The White Dawn extended beyond just being a dungeon; it was on a megacorp scale. Acquiring a dungeon itself bypassed the Dungeon Special Act, which only regulated the free retrieval of items from within a dungeon.”

“Purchasing the dungeon as an entity meant securing the rights to all its future yields, even if it seemed like scraps left behind by the Three-Dollar Group. Such acquisitions came with a hefty price tag—so much so that Reketio Corporation had to leverage years’ worth of funds and stock to afford it.”

Amon and Sonia couldn’t comprehend why it was worth such a risk.

“You know, you guys were cutting it close.”

Amon pointed out the precarious position Reketio was in during the acquisition.

Mobilizing half the company’s resources meant leaving themselves vulnerable to external attacks.

If anyone had made a move, they’d have been crushed in one blow.

Even now, though the acquisition was successful, the corporation was still recovering.

Cassie, however, had a different perspective.

“First, let’s clear up a misunderstanding—it wasn’t a gamble. It was a calculated decision.”

She explained that they had foreseen no major attacks during the period, which allowed them to take the risk.

Though it was a strain, it wasn’t reckless.

For Cassie, it was a rational judgment, not the gamble it appeared to others.

“Second, the costs we incurred will be recouped within a year. And once we recover, we’ll be operating on an entirely different level.”

She began explaining the value of essences to the still-confused Amon and Sonia.

Essences are powers tied to the manipulation of concepts.

Amon’s Sky Step, which allows him to step on air, applied this principle.

Prices for essences varied by type, but they were always in demand somewhere.

“You remember when I wanted to buy you an essence to go with your new gear, right? But we couldn’t find any listings for what you needed.”

Cassie had tried to acquire essences for Amon’s equipment upgrade but couldn’t find any in the market.

Demand far outpaced supply.

“That’s why essence suppliers have sprung up. But even they can’t meet demand.”

Some companies operated like factories, continuously farming dungeons with high drop rates to extract essences.

Even so, supply remained insufficient.

“The essence market is a blue ocean. Now imagine a company that can reliably supply legendary-grade essences. What do you think happens?”

It would be a game-changer.

The idea of simply setting a high price for their essences was only the beginning.

Legendary-grade essences would allow Reketio to dictate prices for all essences.

Other companies would have no choice but to follow their lead.

And what if a rival essence supplier defied them? Reketio could flood the market with equivalent essences at legendary quality, bankrupting the competitor overnight.

The possibilities were endless.

In summary, Reketio Corporation now held absolute control over the essence market.

***

“Wow.”

Hearing this, Amon and Sonia finally grasped the value of the information they had brought back.

Dominating a market meant wielding immense power—a form of absolute authority.

“Thanks to you, we’ve secured the last key our company needed.”

Though Reketio was unrivaled in financial investments thanks to its future-seeing capabilities, it often lost in power struggles with other megacorps.

Unlike money, the irreplaceable power held by rival corporations couldn’t simply be purchased.

Through scheming, diplomacy, and manipulation, Reketio barely managed to keep up.

However, such tactics were exhausting for everyone involved, from employees to the chairman.

“Once we grow our clout, not only will people pick fewer fights with us, but those that do will be easier to deal with. We’ll also be able to focus our energy on other things, boosting overall efficiency.”

The benefits were endless.

It was no wonder the chairman held Amon in such high regard.

“D—Amon, my father was ecstatic. He said you’ve saved him the headache of dealing with other megacorps.”

Cassie stopped herself from calling him “son-in-law,” feeling it was too soon.

Her father hadn’t expressed his gratitude in such formal terms either.

[Our son-in-law is the best!]

Cassie recalled her father’s exuberance, champagne in hand, and relayed his thanks to Amon.

“He said you can ask for anything. Whatever it is, he’ll make it happen.”

Cassie handed Amon a blank check, but he hesitated.

With the wealth he had accrued from his contract with the Three-Dollar Group and the compensation from Reketio, Amon was already financially secure.

He had moved to an upscale neighborhood and built a house rivaling Cassie’s family’s mansion.

He could even afford to eat real meat regularly.

His gear was top-notch; all that remained was his personal training.

“Ah.”

“Did you think of something?”

Amon asked cautiously.

“Do you have any interest in running an orphanage?”

***

Several months later, the Rose Bird Orphanage was established following Amon’s suggestion.

Modeled after the Perfume Rose Orphanage where Amon grew up, the ten-story building functioned as a welfare center during the day and included various facilities.

With the precedent set by Perfume Rose, operational concerns were minimal.

The key was hiring a competent director.

Amon had someone in mind.

“Amon, do you think I’m unemployed? I still have plenty of work as an exorcist.”

It was the long-lost priest with perpetually squinting eyes.

While Sonia still crossed paths with him at university as a guest lecturer, Amon hadn’t seen or heard from him in over a year.

Then, out of the blue, Amon showed up with a request.

“Please be the orphanage director.”

Naturally, the priest was less than enthusiastic.

“Ugh, fine… When’s dinner? Let’s catch up over a meal.”

Grumbling all the while, he eventually accepted the role.

With the new orphanage in capable hands, Amon returned to his main occupation: mercenary work.

***

For Amon, mercenary work was no longer about survival.

It had become a means of self-fulfillment and growth.

In the process, he rose to Platinum rank and earned the nickname Crusader, though he didn’t care much for it.

Then, a special request came in from Cassie.

“I was getting bored anyway.”

Amon readily accepted.

The assignments he received through the mercenary guild were starting to feel too easy.

The danger and challenge of Cassie’s missions made them the perfect fit.

“Make sure you’re well-prepared for this mission,” Cassie emphasized, unlike her usual demeanor. She underscored the need for caution, a stark contrast to the operation involving The White Dawn.

Amon returned home immediately to check his equipment.

“Spatial coat, twenty-eight daggers, five swords, a pistol, a crossbow…” he murmured, meticulously inspecting each piece.

While he worked, Sonia approached him and rested her chin on his head.

“This time, I can’t come with you.”

Amon gently patted her head as she pouted.

From her perch atop his head, she mumbled, “Just make sure you’re back before my internship starts.”

“You have my word. I’ll be back before then.”

“Alright,” she replied, letting her head roll onto Amon’s shoulder, her chin now resting there.

She turned her face toward his ear and added emphatically, “And don’t get hurt.”

“Of course not.”

Amon turned his head and brushed a kiss against her cheek.

***

The next day, Amon headed to the airport to begin Cassie’s mission.

As his flight landed, his phone buzzed with an incoming call.

It was the squint-eyed priest.

“Amon! Didn’t we say we’d grab a meal together sometime?”

“That’s how it worked out.”

“Worked out? Don’t you dare let another year pass like this, you rascal!”

Before the priest could rant further, Amon hung up.

Chuckling lightly, he stepped into the car waiting for him at the terminal.

Their destination: the headquarters of Lloyd & Life, a company specializing in android manufacturing.

***

On the way there, Amon recalled his earlier conversation with Cassie.

“Lloyd & Life is one of the megacorps we’ve invested in,” Cassie had said.

Though it was easy to forget, Reketio Corporation was primarily an investment firm.

While they occasionally dismantled rivals through short selling, their bread and butter was strategic investments.

Thus, their involvement with a megacorp like Lloyd & Life wasn’t unusual.

What was surprising, however, was the mission briefing.

“For this mission, you’ll be representing our company and verifying that our investment funds are being used properly.”

Amon had been taken aback.

He was a swordsman, not a suit-wearing corporate type.

He wouldn’t know what to look for in financial reports or operations.

Cassie, of course, was well aware of this.

“That’s just the cover mission,” she explained. “Your real task is something else.”

She had pulled out a long box divided into three compartments, each containing a scroll rolled up like a cigarette.

Pointing to each section, she continued, “These scrolls detail your tasks. Open the first when you arrive, the second when the situation is resolved, and the third before you leave.”

The scrolls were treated to self-destruct into ashes within a minute of opening, and she emphasized that they should only be read at the specified times.

Amon raised an eyebrow.

“Why go to such lengths?”

Cassie explained the limitations of her foresight ability.

“My power lets me glimpse threads of connection between people. I can see how others will act toward me, but I can’t fully understand everything about them.”

By weaving together these threads, she could infer certain outcomes, but her predictions were not without gaps.

For instance, during the White Dawn mission, she knew Amon would accept the job, succeed, and report back—but she couldn’t know the exact details of his findings until he shared them.

This limitation meant she couldn’t provide Amon with a comprehensive prophecy, only fragmented advice.

Additionally, there was a practical limitation.

“Foresight only manifests if someone takes action,” she said. “No matter how much I foresee, without someone investigating or acting on it, nothing happens.”

Hearing her explanation, Amon accepted the box.

***

Now, back in the present, Amon opened the box.

Just before arriving at Lloyd & Life, he unrolled the leftmost scroll and read its contents.

“Act as you see fit. You’re always right.”

He read the sentence repeatedly before the paper disintegrated into ashes in his hands.

Dusting off his palms, he noticed the car pulling into the company’s headquarters.

“We’ve arrived,” the driver announced.

A crowd of employees streamed out to greet him, opening the car door and offering a warm welcome.

Amon was assigned a guide, who began explaining the company’s investments and products as they walked.

“This is our latest model, Heritor 3.0. Unlike the previous model, which only replicated the behavioral patterns of the deceased for family interactions, this one incorporates browsing history and environmental factors for more realistic responses.”

“Mm-hmm,” Amon nodded, not comprehending but trying to appear attentive.

When investment-related questions came up, he would reply, “I’ll relay this to headquarters,” and leave it at that.

Despite his outward calm, Amon’s mind was preoccupied with Cassie’s words: “You’re always right.”

‘What does that even mean?’ he wondered, nodding absentmindedly while trying to decipher the message.

The tour progressed smoothly—too smoothly.

The lack of any real incident began to unsettle Amon, heightening his sense of caution.

Then, suddenly, alarms blared throughout the facility.

[Entity escape in Zone 3! Initiating lockdown procedures for the affected area!]

Amon turned to his guide, demanding an explanation.

The guide obliged, stating that, as an investor, Amon had the right to be informed.

“The escaped entity is named The Baker of Happiness. It’s a baker that creates humanoid cookies.”

The guide elaborated.

Depending on its mood, the baker would create cookies resembling specific employees.

These cookies were indistinguishable from their originals in appearance, personality, and mannerisms, though their physical abilities and magical capabilities were limited.

The cookies, classified as humans, had various uses—ranging from behavioral analysis and research to being offerings for entities requiring human sacrifices.

“The data gathered from their actions forms the basis of many of our products,” the guide added.

However, the cookies posed three significant risks when they encountered their originals.

First, they would attempt to kill their original counterparts by any means necessary.

Though not overwhelmingly strong, their abilities were sufficient to eliminate ordinary researchers.

Second, if a cookie succeeded in killing its original, it would gain the original’s abilities.

Finally, the cookies would help each other replace their originals.

This created a dangerous cascade effect, starting with weaker staff and potentially escalating to security teams or higher-level personnel.

As a result, the company’s protocol for The Baker of Happiness involved sealing off the entire affected zone, conducting thorough checks, and systematically isolating the cookies.

The guide concluded, “We’re currently in Zone 5, so you’re safe here. However, I recommend leaving the premises promptly for your own safety.”

Amon nodded at the guide’s advice and followed them toward the exit.

As they approached the building’s main doors, Amon came to an abrupt stop.

Staring at the exit, he muttered, “So that’s what it meant.”

The guide turned to him, puzzled.

“Is something wrong—?”

Shhck!

Before the guide could finish their sentence, Amon’s blade sliced through their neck.

The severed head soared through the air, and bright red liquid spurted from the wound.

“Aaaah!” screamed an employee who witnessed the scene.

Guards scrambled to draw their weapons, but as the red liquid pooled on the floor, everyone froze.

It wasn’t blood.

It was jam—strawberry jam.

The guard closest to Amon, pale with realization, tried to process the situation.

Amon turned to them and asked, “Are you sure only Zone 3 needs to be sealed?”

The guard hastily radioed for updates.

Moments later, the entire building went into lockdown.