Chapter 278. Shareholders’ Meeting (6)

“The soil is red and light. Even the slightest touch stirs up clouds of dust.”

“This land must have been abandoned, just like us.”

“Even so, I will succeed. I will prove how far a city of the abandoned can rise.”

An abandoned land, abandoned people, and an abandoned city. I thought it would obviously be here...

“It’s here,” Eun-Ho said.

“Huh? The arena?” Ayasa asked.

“No.” Eun-Ho shook his head. “Here. Our office grounds.”

His mind raced.

Steadying his breathing, he calmed his pounding heart. “What color is the soil?”

“What kind of question is that all of a sudden?” Ayasa said. “What do you mean, what color is soil?”

“Soil is soil-colored, obviously! What’s wrong, my friend?” asked the Crow.

Right. Soil is supposed to look like soil.

“Have you ever seen red soil?” Eun-Ho asked.

“Red soil?”

“I haven’t,” he said.

Now he understood why no matter how thoroughly he searched, the chairman’s certificate had never appeared.

That’s because it’s not here.

“I secured my first investment. We won’t go hungry anymore.”

The place where the company had first been built wasn’t here.

“I bought the planet Earth. I then selected employees and established a business district.”

Where they were now was merely the business district, not a zone. It was an entire planet designated for work.

What if that distant planet—the so-called abandoned land where the arena stood—was the true company? What if that was the one that originally attracted the shareholder investment? In that case, everything would make sense.

Ayasa pulled out a cigarette. “So where’s the certificate? Explain it in a way I can understand.”

Eun-Ho flashed a confident smile. “The arena.”

“What?!”

Instead of elaborating further, he gently stroked the Crow. “Hey, my feathered friend.”

The Crow stiffened, its patchy feathers standing on end. “W-what is it?”

“A real warrior wouldn’t get tired from a little flying, right?”

“T-that’s true, but what’s with that look?”

“Now that I look at you again, your feathers seem perfectly fine. And your complexion is nice and dark, very healthy.”

Startled, the Crow flapped its wings in panic, but Eun-Ho grabbed hold of it. “I need you to take me somewhere.”

“C-Crow meat doesn’t taste good! You know that, right?!”

“No, not that,” Eun-Ho said flatly. “I need a ride.”

With his acting chairman authority suspended, he couldn’t use the chairman’s teleportation portal. Even the wings from the Crow had melted away. Traveling on a Razor-Beaked Bird would take too long. Therefore, riding the Crow was the best option.

“Ah! That’s what you meant?” Only then did the bird stop flailing. It had been trembling like a sparrow caught by a predator just moments ago, yet now it puffed up its chest and said proudly, “Of course! If it’s for my friend, I’ll go anywhere!”

Haha ridiculous.

“B-but...” the Crow hesitated, as if something had just occurred to it. “You’re not talking about that arena at the edge of the universe, are you? The place I flew to without sleep for an entire week... surely not that nightmare, right?”

“It is.”

“Kraaak!”

The Crow shot upward in panic, only to slam headfirst into the ceiling. It had merely pretended to be fine, hiding its suffering.

Eun-Ho held out a cigarette. “Want a smoke?”

The Crow recoiled in horror and smacked its head into the ceiling again. “W-what?! How dare you offer something so crude to me?! I don’t need it!”

Ayasa said eagerly, her eyes gleaming, “Yeah, go ahead and try it. Might as well collect some data on how it affects birds.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Eun-extended his hand toward the Crow. “Let’s start somewhere closer first.”

“Closer?”

“The shareholders are gathering, aren’t they?”

If that was the case, they had to move fast.

***

It was 9:00 PM.

Inside a lone castle perched high atop a dark, snow-laden mountain, a fierce blizzard howled outside, rattling the windows of the grand reception hall. Even the nine teacups set upon the antique table quivered softly, their porcelain edges clinking against their saucers.

“The wind is especially fierce tonight,” someone remarked.

The wind howled like the wailing of a grieving woman. Despite the warm air circulating indoors, the room felt bitterly cold.

A woman with water-colored hair, wrapped in several layers of clothing, said softly, “Days like this rarely bring good fortune,”

Seated beside her was a short, stout middle-aged man. “Perhaps that’s why such unfortunate news has arrived.”

“Unfortunate news?”

“You haven’t heard, Director?” he asked.

The former corporate relations director, Mu Byun, turned her gaze toward the Master of the Snowy Mountains.

“I haven’t heard anything at all,” Mu Byun replied calmly. “You never allowed me to step outside, my lord.”

There was a clear edge of accusation in her tone.

The Master of the Snowy Mountains stroked his beard awkwardly. “A notice has arrived.”

Notice of Extraordinary Shareholders’ Meeting

We hereby announce that an extraordinary shareholders’ meeting will be held as follows:

1. Date: Wednesday the 23rd, 9:00 AM

2. Location: Conference Room, 111th Floor, Primordial Skyscraper

3. Agenda: Qualification Review of CEO Candidate(Candidate: Lee Eun-Ho)

Shareholders may attend in person to exercise their voting rights or delegate their rights through a valid proxy.

Acting Chairman, Lee Eun-Ho

“He’s calling a shareholders’ meeting?!” Mu Byun frowned deeply, unable to believe it. Only then did the woman nod in understanding. “So that’s why all of you distinguished individuals have gathered here.”

Excluding Mu Byun, the eight gathered here were all major shareholders, each holding more than one percent of the company.

“He even postponed the inauguration ceremony just to hold this meeting,” someone said.

Then, a man who had been idly folding and unfolding a black fan finally chimed in. “Good heavens... just as we heard. He moves quickly.”

The stout man let out a low sigh, narrowing his eyes. “Do you think he anticipated our strategy?”

“If he did, that’s a problem in itself,” another remarked.

For someone who had only just become acting chairman, this level of responsiveness was beyond expectation. If Eun-Ho had acted with prior knowledge, it spoke to his information network. If not, then it revealed remarkable boldness and judgment.

The Master of the Snowy Mountains, who had gathered the shareholders, stroked his mustache thoughtfully. “I do like how quick he is...”

However, the stout man clicked his tongue in disapproval, saying bluntly, “Like him? His ideology is rotten to the core.”

“That’s true,” another agreed.

Competence and intelligence were important, but ideology mattered most. After all, they had invested vast sums of money into this company. They wanted someone they could trust and would grow their wealth. By that standard, Eun-Ho was unacceptable and practically disqualified.

“Salary renegotiations, overtime pay...” One of them scoffed. “How can he propose such absurd policies?”

The shareholders, each driven by their own interests, said with one unified voice, “He is not suitable.”

Eun-Ho was bad news. The strategy of the major shareholders, formed in unison, was simple but effective.

First was to block Eun-Ho’s authority as acting chairman. Then, while the rebels floundered in confusion, they were to select a new candidate who suited their interests and install them as chairman.

However, Eun-Ho’s response had been direct. Without hesitation, he had chosen to confront them head-on by calling the shareholders’ meeting himself.

“Well, either way, doesn’t this work out in our favor?” Mu Byun said. “Once the shareholders’ meeting is held, he’ll be forced to step down anyway.”

She was right.

The Master of the Snowy Mountains gave a heavy nod. “The eight of us together hold 34.6%. Replacing a chairman with no shares to his name would be effortless.”

There was no exaggeration in his words but only fact.

“Besides, even if all the minor shareholders band together, they only account for about 2%,” someone added.

With the Undying’s 51.9% effectively rendered useless, the eight shareholders gathered here already possessed enough combined influence to pass any resolution at the meeting.

“And the Heavenly King still hasn’t responded?”

“He’s such an unpredictable figure. It’s a bit concerning.”

“He’s always been like that. There’s no need to worry,” another dismissed.

It would have been perfect if the second-largest shareholder, the Ruler of the Western Heavens, had joined them. However, even without him, they had more than enough power. Even if he opposed them by some unlikely chance, his 11.5% alone wouldn’t change anything.

“Whatever his intentions, he’s only dug his own grave,” one of them said.

Calling a shareholders’ meeting meant placing the decision of leadership squarely in their hands. From Eun-Ho’s perspective, it was as if he had willingly handed a leash to a pack of tigers eager to tear him apart.

“Exactly. His actions may be unexpected, but he’s just a fool pushing insane policies.” Another scoffed. “There’s no point trying to understand him.”

“Agreed. Trying to make sense of him might just get us dragged into his nonsense.”

He’s a fool who only pushes ridiculous policies.

At that remark, every shareholder nodded in agreement.

“He’s truly a fool.”

“We can’t entrust the chairman’s position to someone like that. Absolutely not.”

Why give more money to workers who could already be exploited cheaply? Every policy Eun-Ho had proposed was incomprehensible to them.

“At this rate, we’d be lucky if profits don’t collapse, let alone grow,” one muttered.

“Don’t they know? Once you give those people something, they’ll keep asking for more.”

“What could someone who hasn’t even lived a hundred years possibly understand? Just empty, idealistic nonsense.”

As the group collectively clicked their tongues in disdain, a cold gust had slipped in through the slightly open window.

Whoosh—

Then, the stout man grumbled, thumping his chest in frustration. “Employee welfare, of all things... I’ve never heard such absurdity in my life.”

Beside him, Mu Byun pulled her coat tighter. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

A flake of white snow drifted in with the wind, melting quietly into the tea.

Snow?

Mu Byun tilted her head slightly in confusion.

At that moment, someone’s voice came from the corner of the room. “I’ve never seen such a ridiculous company myself.”

“Exactly. That’s why we must never let Eun-Ho—”

A chill cut through the air and silence fell like a blade. Then, the teacup slipped from Mu Byun’s hand.

Clang—!

The sound of shattering porcelain rang out. From the darkened corner, a figure stepped forward, breaking the silence.

“Who are you?” the King of the Underworld finally asked, his voice tight.

The answer came without hesitation.

“You already know.”

It was an answer too brazen and utterly shameless.

With a slight upward tilt of his eyes, the man introduced himself, “I’m Eun-Ho.”

The stout man shot to his feet. “Y-you bastard! Do you even know where you are?!”

Shock rippled through the room like a blizzard.

“Oh, I heard you all were quite interested in me,” Eun-Ho said casually.

The man’s jaw dropped before he snapped it shut again. “What did you say?!”

Eun-Ho paid him no mind. “I came in person despite my busy schedule.”

“Who asked you to come?!”

“No need for thanks,” Eun-Ho replied smoothly.

His expression was infuriatingly calm. He even picked up a servant’s handkerchief, casually brushing snow and a few strange feathers off his clothes.

Then, as if nothing were amiss, he asked, “Is there a seat available?”

“What the hell are you—”

“I’ve come a long way,” Eun-Ho added. “At least offer me a cup of tea.”

What a bastard.