I Became a Scoundrel of a Chaebol Family
Chapter 256

“Breaking news. At approximately 8 a.m. this morning, the AV carrying Kim Doo-sang, the head of Yeonsu District, was attacked by an unidentified assailant and exploded. Mr. Kim was on his way to work when the incident occurred. The wreckage from the exploded AV scattered across the road, causing secondary casualties and increasing the chaos.”

“A shocking report. At 7:58 a.m. today, Kang Kyung-seok, the head of Michuhol District, was killed in an explosion while commuting in his AV. The vehicle suddenly detonated midair...” (abridged)

“An unbelievable event has unfolded. This morning, district heads across all of Incheon were assassinated in an unprecedented act. Secondary damage was also severe — over 50 civilian casualties have been confirmed, and total casualties are nearing 200. The Military Security Agency announced that they are increasing protection for acting officials and are devoting all efforts to uncovering the truth.”

Go Muyeol’s sudden rampage sent shockwaves beyond Incheon — it stunned the entire country.

Fifteen district heads murdered in a single moment. An event without precedent in national history.

Maybe he hadn’t even meant to go that far, but it wasn’t something that could possibly be covered up. Within moments, every news outlet and online community was saturated with reports.

Conspiracy theories and wild speculation ran rampant. People stopped whatever they were doing to refresh news sites and Mityube obsessively.

Before long, the headlines spread beyond Korea to the rest of Asia, and eventually the entire world.

Fifteen officials, each with authority on par with regional governors, killed simultaneously — the sheer impact of it was staggering.

Even Incheon politicians who had brushed off Go Muyeol’s banquet invitation were in utter shock.

Those who heard the news were left speechless for a long time.

Most canceled their schedules immediately and scrambled to assess the situation.

Even Mayor Choi Cheol-kyu of Incheon, who had never once considered such a scenario, was visibly shaken.

“Wh-What the hell is going on?!”

“According to the report... it seems knights were involved.”

“Knights?”

“Yes. The analysis suggests at least a dozen knights equipped with exclusive ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) armaments were mobilized.”

Choi Cheol-kyu took the report handed to him and let out a long sigh.

There wasn’t any footage or photographic evidence — but the signs were unmistakable.

Knights were ultra-elite personnel that even national agencies couldn’t deploy lightly. Their nickname alone: “Strategic National Weapons.”

That’s how devastating their combat power was. And now, more than a dozen of them had been mobilized?

“If someone in Incheon was able to mobilize that many knights...”

There was only one possible answer.

Go Muyeol.

Knights were, in essence, a product of the Koryo Group, embedded throughout society under various roles.

To move them, one had to possess legitimate authority.

Knights dispatched to national agencies and military bases would never act on a personal order — only a formal consensus from the agency could direct them.

But what if the person giving the order was the eldest grandson of the Koryo Group?

It wasn’t exactly a secret that the Koryo Group’s ruling family had, over time, semi-privatized the knights.

So if it were the grandson issuing commands, it was plausible that some degree of control existed.

The real question was: how far did that control go?

Even if he was the Koryo Group’s heir, until just recently he’d been a washed-up druggie. Could someone like that possibly wield enough influence to mobilize over a dozen knights?

That part didn’t quite add up.

“Still... no matter how I look at it, he’s the most likely suspect.”

The timing was too perfect.

And Go Muyeol had a clear motive for political retaliation.

“Not that I’d ever consider that a legitimate excuse.”

It probably all stemmed from the banquet.

But it wasn’t as if anyone refused the invitation without reason. No one openly insulted him or declared hostility either.

They simply said they might not be able to attend for personal reasons.

Sure, taken as a group the number of absentees was high, which might’ve made things look a little bad — but the reasons themselves weren’t outrageous.

And this is how he responds?

Does something like this even deserve to be called a “reason”?

Even if it were a valid grievance, who the hell reacts like this unless they have serious anger issues?

Normally, there’d be talks, negotiations, some back-and-forth to settle the matter.

But Go Muyeol? He slammed the gas pedal to the floor and massacred every single district head.

Almost as if he were amplifying the excuse the politicians gave him.

Busy, huh? That so? Then die busy.

That’s exactly what this feels like.

“The guy’s completely insane.”

Of course, all of this only holds true if Go Muyeol is the actual culprit — but Choi Cheol-kyu was already halfway convinced.

Because if it wasn’t him, the whole situation didn’t make any damn sense.

“...What were the knights guarding the district heads doing during all this?”

“That... we don’t know yet. Koryo Militaris has retrieved all the escort knights for investigation and is currently conducting mind scans.”

“Hah... So the most likely suspect is the spoiled punk of the Koryo Group, and the ones leading the investigation are the Koryo Militaris — who just so happen to be retrieving all the witnesses for mind scanning? What a well-oiled machine.”

Choi Cheol-kyu wasn’t exactly a saint himself.

He’d benefitted plenty from Korea’s infamous “no money, guilty / got money, innocent” system.

But even he couldn’t help but scoff at the audacity of the Koryo Group’s actions.

There’s hiding your tracks, and then there’s doing it so blatantly that no one even bothers to complain.

“Has that punk said anything? Any message? Something found at the scene, maybe?”

“Nothing so far.”

Choi Cheol-kyu shook his head and pulled out a cigarette.

Three of them.

He lit them all and stuck them in his mouth.

“Declare a mourning period. Cancel everything for the next week. Let’s start with damage control.”

“Understood.”

After the chief of staff bowed and exited, Choi Cheol-kyu pressed a button on the table, activating a video call.

“Connect me to the party leader.”

++++

With my little “greeting” (?) out of the way, the banquet officially began — though you wouldn’t know it by the atmosphere.

It wasn’t entirely dead, but calling it a “banquet” felt like a stretch.

The mood was heavy, hushed, and uncomfortably stiff.

This wasn’t what I’d wanted.

And it was all because of those self-important politicians trying to one-up each other with stupid power games.

“Th-The yacht is amazing... I’m seriously jealous. Sir—uh, I mean, Director.”

“My aunt gave it to me as a gift. Honestly, it feels like a bit much for me. But I’m glad you like it.”

Still, personal feelings aside, work is work.

I moved around the venue, making the rounds and showing my face.

It was different from earlier this morning when I greeted people at the port. That was just a formality — this time I was actually holding short but proper conversations.

But everyone treated me like I was radioactive.

Some people flinched the moment they saw me.

Well, it’s only natural. After all, every district head had just been wiped out.

They probably thought I was a full-blown psychopath.

Even Minji called me a “socio.”

She’d sent me a news clip over text and laughed her ass off.

Called me a psychopath, a lunatic — spouted all kinds of shit.

Which is rich, coming from Go Minji, the actual top-tier, born-and-bred psycho royal.

At least I don’t sail into the middle of the Pacific with an aircraft carrier and play pirate.