The virtual chamber, usually a vibrant hub of global communication, felt suffocatingly still. The digital avatars of Elias Thorne, CEO of the World Hunter Association, his high-ranking officials, the branch heads from across the globe, and the nine heads of the great families, hung suspended in the digital space. Their expressions were a carefully curated mix of anticipation, apprehension, and, in some cases, barely concealed boredom. Centuries of accumulated power and privilege allowed them to mask their true feelings with an almost supernatural ease.
They waited.
The connection to the Kang estate flickered, pixelating the intricate details of the virtual backdrop, before stabilizing. Kang Dae-hyun's face, a mask of stoic resolve carved from granite, filled the screen. The lines etched around his eyes spoke of countless battles, both physical and political. His hair, though still largely dark, was threaded with silver, a testament to the immense burdens he carried.
"Greetings," he said, his voice deep and resonant, a simple greeting that carried the weight of his formidable presence. It was a voice that commanded respect, a voice that had silenced battlefields and swayed global summits.
"Kang Dae-hyun," Thorne began, his voice measured, his tone carefully calibrated to avoid triggering the legendary hunter's notoriously short temper. "We have convened this meeting to discuss a matter of utmost importance, a situation that concerns the future of your family and, potentially, the stability of our world."
He proceeded to outline the World Hunter Association's concerns. He carefully reiterated the perceived damage to the Kang family's reputation, emphasizing the clandestine whispers that were beginning to circulate amongst the Hunter community. The whispers spoke of instability within the family, of questionable alliances, and of a potential erosion of the Kang's established dominance. He detailed the potential for this negativity to spread, undermining the fragile trust that held the global network of Hunters together. Finally, he presented the Korean branch's modified proposal, subtly emphasizing the S-rank orphan's exceptional potential, while delicately skirting around the core of the issue: Kang Min-ah.
"The Korean Branch has assured us that this orphan, carefully nurtured, could restore the Kang family's reputation, serving as a powerful symbol of your commitment to the future of the Hunter community." Thorne paused, allowing his words to sink in.
Kang Dae-hyun listened, his expression unwavering, his eyes fixed on Thorne with an unnerving intensity. He did not interrupt, he did not react, he simply absorbed the information, his silence a formidable barrier against any form of persuasion. It was a technique he had honed over decades of negotiating with powerful entities, a way of forcing his opponents to reveal their hand while concealing his own.
Thorne, sensing the need to emphasize the gravity of the situation, continued. He elaborated on the benefits of the proposed solution, the potential for the Kang family to reclaim their position of strength, the assurance of their continued legacy. He painted a picture of a future where the Kang family remained at the forefront of humanity's defense, their reputation restored, their power unchallenged.
"This is not merely a matter of familial pride, Kang Dae-hyun," Thorne pressed, knowing he was walking a tightrope. "This is about preserving the Kang legacy, about ensuring the continued effectiveness of the global Hunter network. Min-ah's existence, as you know, is… problematic."
Still, Kang Dae-hyun remained silent. The tension in the virtual chamber grew palpable. Even the usually unflappable family heads shifted uncomfortably in their virtual seats.
The Venturi patriarch, a man whose face was perpetually etched with a cynical smirk, finally broke the silence. "With all due respect, Thorne," he drawled, his voice dripping with condescension, "aren't you being a tad dramatic? A child, even one with… unusual circumstances, hardly threatens the stability of the world."
Thorne glared at the Venturi patriarch. "The potential consequences, if left unchecked, are far-reaching," he countered, his voice hardening. "We cannot afford to take this lightly."
The Valerius patriarch, usually a picture of serene composure, cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should hear from Kang Dae-hyun himself," he suggested, his voice measured. "He is, after all, the head of his family. His opinion is paramount."
Finally, after a prolonged and almost unbearable pause, Thorne asked, his voice strained with a mixture of frustration and apprehension, "Kang Dae-hyun, what is your opinion on this matter?"
Kang Dae-hyun's gaze remained fixed on Thorne, his expression unchanged, unreadable. He seemed to be staring directly into Thorne's soul, weighing his intentions, assessing his weaknesses. It was a disconcerting experience, even for someone as seasoned as Thorne.
"I will tell you my decision," he said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion, "when I'm ready, not when coerced."
And then, before anyone could react, he terminated the connection, the screen going black, plunging the virtual chamber into a stunned and bewildered silence. It was a blatant display of disrespect, a calculated power play that left the assembled leaders reeling.
A murmur of disapproval rippled through the virtual chamber. The Venturi patriarch chuckled softly, clearly amused by the situation. The Valerius patriarch frowned, his usually placid face creased with concern.
"Well," Thorne said, his voice tight with suppressed anger, "that was… illuminating."
He turned to his Chief of Staff, a woman named Anya Petrova, whose cool efficiency was legendary within the Association. "Anya, re-establish the connection. This is unacceptable."
Anya nodded curtly and began working her console, her fingers flying across the keyboard. After a few moments, she looked up, her expression grim. "I'm sorry, sir. He's blocked us. We can't reach him."
The silence in the virtual chamber deepened, becoming heavy and oppressive. Thorne felt a surge of anger, but he quickly suppressed it. Losing his temper would accomplish nothing.
"Very well," he said, his voice regaining its composure. "We'll give him time to cool down. But this is not over. We cannot allow this situation to fester."
He dismissed the meeting, leaving the family heads to their silent contemplations and the association officials to their frantic strategizing. He knew that Kang Dae-hyun's defiance was a challenge to the authority of the World Hunter Association, a challenge that could not be ignored.
Back at the Kang estate, Kang Dae-hyun sat in the grand living room, his posture rigid, his gaze fixed on the intricate carvings of the antique fireplace. The fire was unlit, casting long, dancing shadows across the room. Kang Min-seo sat beside him, her expression as composed as his, her hand resting lightly on his arm, offering silent support. He didn't need to look at her to know she was worried.
The room itself exuded power and history. Ancestral portraits lined the walls, their eyes seeming to follow him, judging him. Each piece of furniture was an antique, a testament to the Kang family's enduring legacy.