Novel: All My Alter Egos Are Tycoons

Apostles (2)

In the southern central region of the Ion Continent lies the Free City Dracal.

This city, established as the stronghold of the Mercenary Guild, could easily be described as a small nation for mercenaries.

Every economic and social system revolves around the mercenary industry, with even the city’s mayor elected according to the will of the guild. Diplomatic relations with other nations similarly focus on mercenaries.

At the pinnacle of these mercenaries stands the Mercenary King.

In Dracal, the power and authority of the Mercenary King were irreplaceable, and the position of Secretary-General, who carried out the day-to-day operations underneath him, was no exception.

Patrick, the Secretary-General of the Mercenary Guild, akin to the prime minister of this small nation, reported to work as usual, performing a solemn ceremony to mark the beginning of the day.

Despite having done this for over a year, the tension never ceased to spike each time.

“… Damn, why on earth are there no hair loss treatments in this world?”

With each passing day, his reflection in the mirror showed his hair worsening significantly.

It was beyond the point of just being a feeling.

Isn’t that what magic is for? What the hell are those cursed alchemists doing?!

Even venting his accumulated rage wouldn’t change anything.

All he could do was realize his own powerlessness and accept the harshness of reality.

And when you think about it, the true target for his anger shouldn’t be his weak hair roots or those negligent alchemists.

Wasn’t the source of the stress causing his hair loss something else entirely?

“Where, where! What the hell happened to that damned Mercenary King—!”

The newly appointed Mercenary King Harley had a tendency for wanderlust, and him suddenly going off the radar wasn’t a recent occurrence. Still, every time, Patrick had to shoulder all the responsibility, leaving him little choice but to carry stomach-soothing medication.

No matter how symbolic the Mercenary King was and how much authority he held, there were limitations.

In this brutal mercenary world where force was paramount, ensuring compliance with his orders, given that he maintained his position through connections, would require considerable effort.

In such circumstances, nothing ever went according to plan, leaving Patrick to face the aftermath.

“Damn it, they’ll just cower before him when he returns, but why do they pour all their issues on me?”

While ruffling his brown hair, Patrick paused and lowered his hands cautiously.

He couldn’t afford to push his already weakened subordinates any further.

“… Should I just head back now?”

With his eyes closed, he exhaled softly.

Truth be told, he had long since gathered the karma necessary for a return, so he could leave whenever he wanted.

“But it feels too wasteful. The impending war with the Undead King will be an incredible opportunity for someone in my position as the Secretary-General of the Mercenary Guild.”

After all, the true worth of a mercenary lay in the battlefield.

If they were to actually take down the real Undead King… No, even if Mercenary King Harley were to perish in battle, it wouldn’t harm him.

He would just grab everything he needed and dash off when things turned dire.

‘Has it been over fifteen years since I came here? I’m starting to think a lot.’

Patrick Brown, the Earthling from Ireland.

His unique skill was “Parallel Thinking,” allowing him to split his thoughts into multiple threads.

If used well, it could unleash advanced spells simultaneously, making it a formidable ability, but…

“Hoo, if only I had a bit more talent.”

Unfortunately, he had about as much aptitude for magic as an ant’s speck.

It was pitiful enough to make one wonder if a person could be this utterly hopeless.

In the first place, magic was a complicated field that required extensive learning and was particularly demanding in terms of talent, making it one of the most challenging among the mysterious arts.

Even if his status was enhanced and system corrections were applied, there were still limitations.

And he certainly wasn’t confident in combat either, leaving only his administrative skills, which he had honed since Earth.

The reason why he had been acknowledged for his abilities and ascended so quickly to this position was entirely thanks to the extraordinary work speed offered by “Parallel Thinking.”

‘… Yeah, let’s just hang in there a little longer. Compared to the adversities I’ve faced until now, this is nothing.’

Though he may be stressed, plenty of gains came alongside it.

In that moment of deep thought, reminiscing about the past…

Boom—!

With a loud sound, the Secretary-General’s office door burst open.

As if somebody had kicked it in.

“Kwahaha! Long time no see, Patrick!”

“… King Harley?”

There was only one person in the mercenary guild capable of such antics.

The current Mercenary King, Harley, had finally returned after a lengthy absence.

“Ah, great, the door is wrecked again! I only nudged it lightly! This is supposed to be the Secretary-General’s office; should we upgrade to something sturdier? What would people think if they saw this?”

“We replaced it with a full alloy last time, but…”

Because of that, both Patrick and those who frequently entered his office found their arms growing thicker by the day.

Maybe this could be considered a form of physical training?

Those too weak to even open this metal door wouldn’t dare report to him.

“Anyway, what’s the deal?”

“… I’ll look into finding a craftsman. There must be a way to make it sturdier.”

The Free City Dracal had plenty of skilled craftsmen since there were many mercenaries.

If they properly fused the techniques used to create weapons and armor, maybe they could create a door that would satisfy Harley?

… Why they needed to go this far was still a mystery to him.

“By the way, where have you been that I haven’t heard from you…” Hoo, never mind.

It was pointless to pry; Harley never provided answers when asked.

Having understood him enough by now, Patrick settled on simply being delighted that he had returned.

“… What?”

Before he could pass that thought successfully…

“Ah, I’m the Mercenary King, remember?”

“Sure, that’s true.”

“But lately, I’ve been feeling like we’re missing something, you know? That Hubert Association is doing something grand with the name of its association leader, so I thought we should do something like that too.”

“Uh, why would the Mercenary Guild…”

“Listen up, honestly, our Mercenary Guild doesn’t lag behind in influence throughout the continent, right? It’d be great to show something off and seize the initiative! Don’t you think?”

Patrick squeezed his eyes shut at this illogical assertion.

Then he swallowed a dreadful scream that he couldn’t voice out loud.

‘Why the heck does the Mercenary Guild have to compete with the association that’s our primary customer!’

In the end, it sounded like he was being asked to mobilize the guild’s entire power for the sake of spreading his own fame.

Moreover, it had been Harley himself who suggested to keep the Mercenary King’s inauguration ceremony simple.

Now, with him talking like this…

“… Alright then, I’ll start planning right away.”

“Kwahaha! That’s our Patrick, I knew I could count on you from the start! So do it as fast as you can!”

But as the absolute subordinate, the words he could say were already determined.

Suppressing the urge for a resignation letter while watching Harley leave with a carefree laugh, Patrick thought,

‘Just wait. I’ll set him up before I quit.’

Patrick had no idea.

That from the moment he was appointed as a capable talent, he had already fallen into a pit from which he could never escape.

‘He’s definitely a pretty impressive guy. I should scout him as soon as I return to Earth.’

Immediately after his return, fully delegating tasks to his subordinates, Harley headed over to the Mercenary Guild’s dining area for a stormy meal.

‘Trust comes in many forms and doesn’t have to be about faith. Since Diana provided a good example, I should make use of every possible avenue.’

Since Hubert’s work was smoothly progressing, he couldn’t afford to just let this great advantage go to waste.

The more diverse the routes for acquiring the Holy Power, the better.

“Oh! King Harley! There you are!”

Just as he was fully devastating the Mercenary Guild’s dining area and about to step outside,

Harley encountered an unexpected figure.

A woman who had flown in like a butterfly wrapped her arms around him.

With the healthy, sun-kissed skin typical of southern women, brown hair intricately braided, and obsidian-like shining black eyes, she was a beauty.

“Ah— this perfect muscle… Eehihi!”

“Huh? Misty?”

“… Ha! Ah! King Harley! I’ve missed you so much!”

The Great Mage of the Calcos Tribal Alliance and the daughter of the former leader, Misty.

She had come all the way from the south to this mercenary guild in Dracal.

“What brings you here, young lady?”

“Oh, come on. What could be more important than serving the King of Warriors personally? I traveled a long way to report the status of the tasks you assigned!”

“Assigned tasks?”

For a moment, Harley blinked, then nodded in realization.

Indeed, he had tasked her with stabilizing the chaos in the south after the former Chief’s Pantheon uprising.

Having been away for so long, he had almost forgotten.

‘Wait, doesn’t this present an opportunity?’

As he stroked his chin, Harley tilted his head.

There was a branch of the Hubert Association in the tribal alliance too, but due to the region’s closed nature, its effectiveness didn’t match other locations.

However, with the authority of the King of Warriors behind him…

“Uwahhaha! Great! Then I should visit the south again soon!”

“Ah! Really? I’m sure everyone will be thrilled! They all worked hard, without resting, just so as not to be a burden on you!”

“Really? How surprising. Usually, these things are always filled with troublemakers. I’ve they must’ve gone missing?”

“Ah… those who disobeyed and acted on their own?”

At those words, Misty’s gaze suddenly turned chilly.

Yet the tension vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a bright smile as she stuck close to Harley.

“At first, there were a few disturbances, but it’s okay now! We had a serious ‘conversation’ one day, and everyone understood our intentions!”

“Oh? I thought we would have to deal with some petty squabbles, but this is unexpected?”

“Hehe! I couldn’t trouble you for no reason.”

Harley beamed at her words, quite pleased.

If the traffic issues were all resolved, it shouldn’t take too long.

“Kwahaha! I really like this! I should reward you for this!”

“R-Reward?”

Misty’s face flushed under the large hand that patted her head.

She unwittingly swallowed hard, while Harley was already deep in contemplation about future plans.

‘Right, as long as I have the mercenary guild and the south, that’s not bad. While it may not compare to the Hubert Association in scale, the purity of trust here is bound to be higher.’

Unlike Hubert, where trust was based on monetary gain, the faith tied to the names of the Mercenary King and the King of Warriors was much deeper.

That was the asset Harley had built up to this point.

“Ah, what a feeling! Today is a meat party all day long! Hey, Misty, gather the companions who came from the south! I’ll treat everyone! Uwahahaha!”

“Ah! Yes, yes!”

In a good mood, Harley continued his spree, turning five restaurants upside down before calling it a day.

It was the most certain way to announce the King’s return, louder than any publicity could manage.

*

“An unusual phenomenon?”

“Yes, just to be safe, I verified this through various channels, and I think we can consider it confirmed.”

In a building owned by Heterosis right in the heart of Seoul.

In a space shaded by blackout curtains meant to block sunlight, two individuals were deep in conversation.

“Recently, the number of reported Awakenings in the country has surged to more than three times the usual. The Supernatural Control Bureau’s transfer investigation department has also deemed the situation serious. However, this doesn’t seem to be just a problem confined to our country.”

“A phenomenon occurring worldwide?”

“Yes, and that’s only counting the reported cases, so in actuality, it should be even more significant.”

Hmm.

Hearing Jin So-Ran’s report, Heinz II stroked his chin with a stern expression.

He had just returned from Auterica without any specific plans but found himself faced with an unexpectedly complex report during his visit.

‘I intended to focus solely on increasing Apostles for a while. What on earth is happening?’

Of course, creating Apostles wasn’t particularly challenging for Heinz II.

In fact, to be precise, he didn’t even need to do anything; everything was already wrapped up.

‘After all, Heinz II, the Pureblood standing atop all vampires.’

The world of vampires was a strict class society.

However, being a Pureblood not only did not exist as the founder of a bloodline but was a vampire towering above—

It was beyond regulation; he was the very definition of a deity (神).

‘The Undead King Hans had a similar situation.’

Along with him, there were others like the Holy God’s angel and Saint Heinrich, the World Tree’s spokesperson High Elf Harris, and the 16th Demon King Hela, who also didn’t need much effort for anything.

‘Hold on, wasn’t there a timing when this fluctuation started…’

In that moment, a hypothesis flickered across his mind.

The timing around when he began to sprout divinity, come in contact with the world’s secrets, and observe ‘that existence’ perfectly aligned with the onset of this unusual phenomenon.

Could this really be a coincidence?

‘No way.’

Something was happening.

However, there were limits to what he could do.

In this situation, his best bet was to focus on rapidly increasing divinity in anticipation of the future.

“Hmm?”

But just then, Heinz’s eyebrows twitched in response to a sudden sensation.

“My Lord? Is something wrong?”

Jin So-Ran, who was nearby, asked cautiously, but Heinz was already lost in concentration, offering no reply.

He merely gazed at a distant point with a cold, unfocused expression.

‘This signal is…’

Among the tightly intertwined strands of divinity, a particularly thick strand was responding.

It was a crisis detection signal conveyed from Kang Tae-san, who had recently departed for another world.

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