When Callieter, the Ancient Dragon whose territory encompassed the North Sea and Germany, requested a private audience, Jenkinson was surprised. It wasn't just that they barely knew each other—it was the fact that she had personally traveled all the way to Hong Kong.
Callieter's child was still classified as a Hatchling. Dragons lacked a uniform coming-of-age standard, shedding the Hatchling label the moment their parents agreed to their independence, but her child was much slower than most. Regardless, as the guardian of a Hatchling, Callieter was exempt from attending the Balaur Council. Her child had no blood relation to the Lord, so she had no obligation to attend the funeral either.
Yet she had flown to Hong Kong at this late hour, leaving her Hatchling behind in her Lair.
‘What's the rush?’
Only one reason came to mind.
‘Is a mother with a Hatchling really planning to run for the Lord's seat? ...Does she covet the Dragon Heart that much?’
Future events would proceed according to the will. The next Balaur Council was scheduled to be held again in Hong Kong in 99 days, where the next Dragon Lord would be elected and the aftermath of the will handled.
The direct heirs were already moving fast.
‘Given our age, there's no chance that my brothers or I will be elected as the next Lord anyway.’
Meanwhile, the Princess of Endelion had sealed the Lord underground in the Kai Tak Terminal owned by the Committee.
=Physical contact is forbidden, but I have arranged it so that any Dragon who wishes may see him.=
The sealed site was like a morgue where the flow of time had been artificially stopped.
=If anyone harbors doubts about the condition of the remains, you are welcome to verify it yourself at any time.=
She left the area after delivering those words, but no Dragon was brazen enough to dare tamper with her barrier.
Most of the Dragons, aside from the direct heirs, decided to stay in Hong Kong instead of returning to their Lairs. They were all busy, but they judged that nothing was more important than the current situation. The majority of them thought this way:
‘The Dragon Heart is going to pass to the next Lord anyway!’
Whoever inherited the oldest Dragon's heart whole, without dividing it, would overturn Earth's power structure and become an overwhelming authority. The power-sensitive Dragons wanted to closely observe the process or become a part of it entirely.
As a result, a fierce battle among candidates vying for the Lord's seat was set to unfold in Hong Kong. Even Dragons who would have shown no interest in the past jumped into the fray.
‘Blair, we will also stay in Hong Kong for a while.’
Jenkinson also decided to remain in Hong Kong along with his subordinate and the ‘witnesses’.
After deep consideration, he had decided to carry on the Lord's dying wish.
He was entering the competition.
He judged that Callieter, who had requested an audience, also intended to participate. Today's private meeting would likely end with her offering various conditions to urge him to withdraw. From what he knew of her personality, she was more than capable of doing so.
In the worst-case scenario, she might even pick a fight.
Having steeled himself for that, Jenkinson was inevitably flustered when she opened his Hotel door and walked in fully Polymorphed. Callieter hadn't brought a memorandum of withdrawal as he'd expected. Instead, she held a bottle of fine wine and two glasses.
“...”
Jenkinson asked instead of greeting her, wearing a suspicious look.
“Why did you bring that?”
Callieter answered without a single twitch of her eyebrow. She had maintained an expressionless face since the moment she appeared.
“Why else? To drink.”
Callieter set the glasses on the table. Without even touching the bottle, just by giving it a glance—pop!—the cork was extracted. She calmly poured the wine and offered a glass.
“Drink.”
If he had been human, he might have suspected a poisoning attempt, but Jenkinson didn't worry about that, even if he worried about other things.
Dragons are invulnerable to all poisons. And when a Dragon Polymorphed, they cherry-picked the strengths of their true body alongside the strengths of their transformed species. Thus, the two were currently immune to any poison while simultaneously being able to fully savor the aroma and taste of the wine—something they couldn't properly experience in their Dragon forms.
Jenkinson took a sip as offered, and his eyes widened slightly. He let out a breath of admiration.
“...It's good.”
“It's a masterpiece born from decades of harassing the dwarf slaves working in my winery. Money is effective for binding them and slapping on shackles, but fear is much more effective for extracting better results.”
She could have at least put on a social smile while saying such a thing, but Callieter remained expressionless. She finally brought up her real business only when both of them had silently emptied about half the bottle.
“Are you running as a candidate?”
Jenkinson answered without hesitation.
“Yes.”
He had made the decision long ago.
Now that the Lord had mentioned his name in the will, he wasn't completely without a chance of winning. While some Dragons considered the deceased an unapproachable eccentric, he was surprisingly popular among certain circles. Therefore, there would be those who would support Jenkinson in accordance with the Lord's dying wish.
Callieter then pointed out,
“It won't be easy. Some of the Ancient Dragons are forming alliances. If they all run, they won't be able to avoid mutual destruction, so they plan to back one person for now and share the spoils later.”
How would they divide the results later? Plans varied. The Lord had left a will instructing them not to divide the Dragon Heart, but many among the Ancient Dragons considered that merely a recommendation.
Alternatively, some Ancient Dragons believed the winner could simply absorb it whole instead of splitting it. For a Dragon who relied on mana as their source of life, completely absorbing it would extend their lifespan and allow them to be reborn as a much more powerful entity. The plan was to then provide appropriate compensation to the Dragons who had cooperated.
However, no Ancient Dragon had yet approached Jenkinson to form an alliance. Knowing this, Callieter looked deeply into his eyes and asked,
“If you become the Lord and get your hands on the Dragon Heart, what will you do with it? Will you ignore the will, carve it up, and sell it off? Or swallow it whole? Or maybe... offer it to the Committee as collateral to take out a massive loan of Talents?”
The options she listed were topics actively being discussed among the Ancient Dragons, and knowing this, Jenkinson displayed an even stronger sense of disgust.
“No, I'll think about what to do with it after I become the next Lord.”
That didn't mean he was being indecisive and delaying the choice.
“I believe the Lord had a reason for leaving this kind of will. You know how it is. He did a lot of bizarre things while he was alive, but looking back, none of them were useless.”
“...”
Callieter waited silently for his next words without commenting on that statement.
“The instruction not to divide the Dragon Heart must mean there's an absolute reason not to. Swallow it whole without splitting it? That's an overly convenient idea. In my opinion, ‘do not divide it’ translates to ‘do not damage it’ as well.”
To Jenkinson, who expressed his opinion like this, Callieter spoke as if testing him. Her gaze was unwavering.
“Then why would the Lord say not to damage it?”
“The Dragon Heart, as a resource, wouldn't lose its absolute value per unit of area even if it were split into thousands of pieces. Just like gold or Mana Crystals. But that must mean the heart we're talking about now isn't like that. In that case, it feels less like a resource valuable just for existing and more like an artifact possessing a specific function.”
“A function?”
“To me, the Lord's Dragon Heart seems like a tool arranged for a specific task. If it's damaged, its value as a tool will disappear. I agree with the opinion that he never intended to pass it on to his children in the first place. This will seems to have been written with the intent of handing the heart over to the next Dragon Lord and hoping they would do something with it on his behalf. This hypothesis is the most like the Lord. Many Ancient Dragons dismissed him as a bizarre fellow during his life and didn't interact deeply with him in private, so they don't really know what kind of Dragon he was. But I'm different.”
The Lord had a similar disposition to Jenkinson, and the two usually saw eye to eye. As Minjun had already witnessed, Jenkinson grieved over the Lord's death just as much as the Dragons bound to him by blood.
The Ancient Dragon of the North Sea asked in a nonchalant voice.
“What does he want the next Lord to do with that Dragon Heart?”
“Who knows? I suppose we'll find out the moment we get our hands on the Dragon Heart. That's the Lord's way. He always loved riddles, and he figured that there was no need for too many Dragons to know this kind of secret together. He knows our temperaments well.”
“And you intend to follow the Lord's dying wishes?”
“Can't you tell after hearing all this? The Dragon Heart will probably be in a state where I can't arbitrarily dispose of it anyway. It's true that I want to become the next Lord, but the Dragon Heart is merely a byproduct that comes with the position. It's probably closer to a chore than a treasure. I plan to run for the seat fully prepared for that.”
It was the exact opposite of what the other Ancient Dragons thought.
They considered the Dragon Heart the primary goal, and the Lord position merely an accompanying fringe benefit.
“...”
Callieter spoke after a brief silence.
“I share that sentiment.”
As if having made a decision, an intense light flashed in her eyes for a moment.
And unexpected words followed.
“I'll make you an offer. If you agree to one condition, the Dragons in the European region under my influence and I will support you as the next Dragon Lord.”
“...?!”
It was a reaction Jenkinson could never have imagined.
“What, weren't you planning to run for the Lord position?”
“Are you crazy? My child is still a Hatchling.”
“Then why...”
None of the other Ancient Dragons had yet tried to form an alliance with Jenkinson. They knew from the start that his way of thinking was too different.
Callieter answered his question.
“Because I believe that among the Dragons making a fuss about running right now, you are the only one who properly understands the Lord's dying wish.”
Jenkinson asked himself. Were she and the Lord that close?
He rummaged through his memories, but nothing clearly came to mind.
Callieter averted her gaze slightly.
“Honestly, his ideology didn't mesh well with mine. Because he obsessed over trivial things that other Dragons ignored. Should I say his emotional antennae were overly long and wide? His meddlesome nature of trying to look out for other races besides Dragons is a prime example. I couldn't understand why he'd put so much effort into parts subjugated for a few pennies in wages. For those inferior to us.”
Jenkinson frowned slightly. But before he could speak, Callieter spoke first, still maintaining her callous tone.
“So I didn't like him. But...”
She hesitated for a moment before speaking.
“Looking at the contents of the will this time, it seems ‘we’ also received help because of those excessive antennae, so it kept bothering me.”
Jenkinson recalled the fact that she had also been mentioned in the will despite not being a direct heir. The content was definitely...
—To the Sea Dragon genus, Sapphire Dragon Callieter, I leave the private art museum in Amsterdam. Hoping it brings joy to her child.
Come to think of it, it was strange. Why would he specifically mention her child, who had no blood ties to the Lord?
“Anyway, this is the condition.”
Jenkinson's reverie was shattered by the following words.
“Among the agenda items to be discussed at this Balaur Council, there's that mutant dragon, right? The one mixed with a spider and a Dragon.”
“Rather than a mutant, you should consider it a hybrid.”
“I want you to hand over all the research results on that monster you've gathered so far. Beyond what you've compiled to reveal to the Balaur Council, I want everything you've found out.”
He asked why she wanted it, but Callieter didn't answer.
The raw data contained intellectual property like unique formulas developed independently by Jenkinson, so he had no intention of disclosing it to other Dragons. But after agonizing over it, he accepted the deal with her.
As a result, Jenkinson secured the votes of Callieter and the Dragons in Europe who followed her. It was a small but certain first step toward becoming the next Dragon Lord.
*
Minjun hid his inner thoughts and asked the Dragon.
“What brings you all the way here?”
“I'm here to propose a deal.”
The Lord's eldest son, Kentius, said so with a displeased expression. Minjun could see clearly into his head.
He didn't like it. The reality where a great Dragon had to propose a deal to a mere prisoner instead of commanding or instructing him.
But he must have concluded that there was no other way. With his skills, he wasn't confident in kidnapping or torturing a prisoner without the Committee finding out. It wasn't that he feared Minjun; he was afraid of the Committee.
As if to prove that, the arrogance in the eyes looking at Minjun never vanished. He was absolutely sure that his counterpart couldn't refuse this offer. Because one must never provoke the temper of a Dragon, the absolute ruler of this world.
‘That's the problem with young dragons. They haven't achieved or accumulated anything so far, and their greatest accomplishment is merely being born as a Dragon, so they obsess over it and entrust their ego to their species to fill their pride. Idiots who still can't view their own position objectively.’
In front of the young dragon who mistook a sense of belonging for self-esteem, Minjun played dumb and said,
“A deal, you say. What could I possibly offer you?”
“You probably thought I came to seize my father's legacy, didn't you? That private vault, I mean. But I'm not that desperate a Dragon. Of course... there are some among my half-brothers who have a different stance.”
It was a hint that among those keeping an eye on Minjun in this city, there were those aiming for the Cube he had taken out of the private vault.
But as if claiming he was different, Kentius smiled casually and said,
“You can just keep that.”
It was a tone that sounded like he was bestowing a great favor.
Minjun didn't bother pointing out that he had rightfully acquired it according to the Lord's will. It would just be like talking to a brick wall.
“Instead, what I want is this.”
A flame flickered in his eyes.
“As you already know, the heirs—including myself—have to find the culprit who killed the Lord. We have to compete with each other. I want you to help me.”
His self-contradictory rambling continued.
“I've heard rumors. You're quite skilled at miscellaneous tricks, aren't you? The trivial skills that the Dragon Race doesn't pay much attention to or bother learning. I heard there's no one like you when it comes to searching for evidence or tracking down criminals. So help me. You don't need to worry about crossing the Committee. I'll wipe the evidence clean. And my guess is... the culprit is someone unrelated to the Committee in the first place.”
“...?”
“I'll talk more about this part after we join hands.”
Feeling curious, Minjun decided to listen a bit more for now.
“What do I get in exchange for helping you?”
Kentius smiled, baring his teeth.
“Freedom.”
“...?”
Minjun quietly crossed his arms. He stood there leaning against the sink, and then asked in an aloof tone,
“Are you saying you'll pay my retirement severance for me?”
“Why not? I'm going to inherit a divided portion of the Lord's wealth anyway. If I get the Dragon Heart on top of that, I'll become the richest man on Earth. I don't know how much your retirement fee is, but it's enough to pay it off. By the way, how much is it? Around 300,000 Talents?”
Minjun suppressed his annoyance once more and said,
“Um, I don't know if you're aware of this, but...”
“I know, the special gift tax.”
“...?!”
“Of course, I have no intention of throwing that massive tax into the Committee's pockets. I have a plan. A way to avoid the Committee's surveillance.”
Minjun thought quietly.
This proposal wasn't an idea that could come out of that soft head of his.
Not only did he know about the special gift tax, but he even mentioned a way to bypass it. Leaving aside whether such a thing really existed or not, the concept itself should be in a realm outside Kentius's narrow worldview.
Minjun changed his mind. He wasn't doing this alone. It was clear that someone was backing him up from behind.
Probably another Dragon much older than Kentius.
Minjun replied in a calm voice.
“It sounds like this will be a long conversation. Have you eaten?”
“...?”
“If you haven't yet, should we have lunch together and hash out the details?”
Taking it as positive feedback, Kentius's expression brightened.
Minjun looked at his transformed body. A body that took only the strengths from the characteristics of dragons and humans.
The Dragon answered readily.
“Good. Since I Polymorphed into a human body anyway, a human-style restaurant would be nice. There's a place I know around here...”
“Since it's a sensitive topic anyway, I don't think we need to go out. It would be different on a normal day, but there are too many eyes around here right now.”
Before he knew it, Minjun was holding the Black Frying Pan he had pulled out.
“As you said, I've learned quite a few miscellaneous tricks... but among them, there is one particularly outstanding talent.”
The dragon asked with a puzzled look.
“What is it? ...No way?”
Minjun spoke with a calm face, without changing a single expression. It was a heavy voice.
Eyes filled with confidence.
“Truth be told, I'm much better at cooking than searching for evidence or tracking down criminals.”
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