Seo Yu-na
The Council was set to begin exactly at twenty-three hundred hours.
We arrived at 22:23, and the Patriarch ordered everyone to take their positions without ceremony.
But before I could follow the family's entourage, he called me aside — to say something quick, yet serious.
Even though I'd prepared myself, standing there for the first time made a cold sweat run down my spine.
— Yu-na, if anything happens — and I mean anything — run. That's a direct order. Even if I'm about to die, you run. Don't put yourself in danger for anyone. Understood? — the Patriarch said, his gaze perhaps the most serious I'd ever seen.
— Yes, sir. But… is there something I should know?
— No. Councils without heir presentations usually have fewer problems — but today, we'll have two.
He paused, his tone shifting slightly.
— I told you earlier that no one is irreplaceable — and that's still true. But heirs these days are harder to come by, especially good ones.
— You are something I've never seen in any family, Yu-na. Who knows when we'll find someone like you again.
He stopped for a moment and stepped closer, lowering his voice to a near whisper as members of another clan walked past.
— Let me ask you something before we go in…
— Do you know what's more important than the family itself?
I'd never thought about it. I'd always been taught that the family stood above everything.
— No, sir.
His eyes locked onto mine — sharp, unblinking.
— The future of the family, — the Patriarch said, resting a hand on my shoulder.
For a moment, it sounded like a farewell.
As if he knew something I didn't.
Families implode for countless reasons — and there are many.
But everything we do, in the end, is to secure its future.
Hearing that from him, right now, raised questions I wouldn't have time to answer.
It was almost eleven.
Whenever I saw someone for the first time, instinct told me to study every detail.
But now, there were dozens of people — from five different families — each with their own intentions, each ready to kill over the slightest misstep, even an accidental one.
A wave of tension ran through me.
It felt like being locked in a cage of lions, waiting for the first move to unleash chaos.
As for the clans…
The Choi Clan had brought one extra member — a mysterious man.
The Kim Clan also had an addition — a woman, seemingly ordinary, but something was off.
The Park Clan presented two — a man and a woman, both appearing common, almost in contrast to the others.
And the Lee Clan… brought their heir.
But just like mine, his face would only be revealed during the formal presentation.
It was custom that, during heir presentations, other new members in distinct positions were also introduced — precisely to avoid confusion about who was who.
Heirs, however, were a different matter entirely.
Their announcement beforehand was mandatory — but only under a pseudonym, never showing their face.
The true revelation happened here, before everyone, with their real name and bare face unveiled.
The Council worked as follows:
Each family would update their current status to maintain transparency among the clans.
That included hierarchy changes, pacts with Unveilers, alliances with corporations, politicians, or human celebrities — and their stated reasons.
Of course, the explanations could be fabricated, omitted, or conveniently polished.
If no one found out, everything was fine — in theory.
But if betrayal ever came to light, there were only two possible paths:
Isolated cases — acts of lower members without involvement from the higher ranks: immediate execution.
Central cases — when the leadership was involved: negotiation, payment, surrender of assets, executions… or war.
The Council was created to preserve order — but in recent years, it had become little more than formality.
The real decisions were made behind the scenes, in the shadows… or through more "exotic" means.
The truth was simple: if any clan ever took full control, the Council would dissolve.
Yet the Seo Clan still believed in tradition — still insisted on patching the cracks with time, rather than abandoning the system entirely.
After all, those with nothing to hide had nothing to fear.
Little by little, everyone took their places.
Silence consumed the hall.
The diplomats gathered at the center to draw lots for the order of presentations.
The sequence was decided: Kim, Choi, Park, Lee, and Seo.
Another draw determined who would conduct the general oratory.
The chosen one: our own diplomat, Seo Min-seok.
With everything ready, the silence turned almost sacred.
The grand hall smelled of old polished wood, and every breath seemed to echo.
— I would like to open the session of the Council of the Great Table, — Min-seok announced, with his usual calm.
— Please wait for each clan's representative to finish their statements before raising any questions, so we can maintain order in the hall.
— Without further delay, the representative of the Kim Clan may take the stand.
The Kim Clan diplomat — young, which was rare for that role — walked to the center.
— Good evening, everyone. I am Kim Min-jun.
— I'll be brief: the Kim Clan has only two announcements.
— First, an update on our political arrangements. Everything remains stable — no apparent human interference.
— Second… an agreement with the Unveiler Min-ji. We believe there are traitors among us, and that is the formal reason for the contract.
The silence shattered.
A low murmur rippled through the hall like a swarm of bees.
An agreement with a Unveiler was never simple — and no one believed it was merely about "traitors".
Unveilers rarely belonged to any clan.
Some had been expelled; others left by choice.
And with one of them present, even the best-kept lies had short lives.
Trusting a Unveiler without knowing their past was dangerous.
They could be seeking revenge against their former family… or selling themselves as a weapon against another.
Either way, no one with secrets felt safe in their presence.
— Order in the hall! — Min-seok's voice rang firm.
The noise faded instantly.
— Do you have any further comments, Mr. Kim Min-jun? — he asked, looking over his glasses.
— No. — the diplomat replied confidently.
— The families have two minutes to decide whether to raise any questions.
The Patriarch remained silent.
In such moments, any question would first pass through the diplomat.
None of us spoke. The other families whispered among themselves.
I watched. Every gesture. Every flicker of expression.
Until I noticed a man from the Lee Clan staring directly at me.
He was handsome — but his gaze… intense, deep, almost unsettling.
Dark eyes. Steady.
Eyes that seemed to pierce right through me.
I stared back. For a moment, it felt like a silent duel.
Whoever blinked first, lost.
Then Jun nudged me, breaking the tension.
— So, what do you think? — he asked, casually.
— I don't. — I replied flatly.
— Always feisty. That's your charm, — he said with a teasing look.
I rolled my eyes and ignored him.
When I looked back — the man was still watching me.
Even as someone beside him whispered something, he only nodded, never looking away.
As if studying me.
A sudden irritation burned beneath my skin.
An unease I couldn't explain.
What the hell does that man really want?