CondVonjo hesitated. His throat was dry. He swallowed and gave a small nod.
"You and the others have received an order from the House of Sutterfouse," said the other.
Vonjo's breath caught the air.
"Sutterfouse…?" he repeated.
His heart thudded harder. A name he hadn't heard in years. A name he hated.
After reincarnating in the novel, Vonjo was born into a family of powerful sorcerers. His training was rigorous and demanding, but when he failed to awaken any of their bloodline abilities, he was treated as an average outsider sorcerer and was kicked out.
Now, he's here, renting from one place to another.
"An… order?" he echoed.
He hadn't thought they'd even remember he existed. After all, in their eyes, he was as useful as a blind archer in a hurricane.
But now they are here?
Why?
The two men stood straighter. The taller one inhaled slowly and began to speak:
"The House of Sutterfouse has faced an unfortunate decline. As you may have heard—or perhaps not—the protective walls of the dome weaken. The angels' magic frays like threads on an old robe. Demons claw at the boundaries. Hell seeps closer with every nightfall. The balance must be maintained."
He took a step closer.
"Thus, the High Council of Elders has ordered a grand search. We are gathering the lost bloodlines. The abandoned seeds. The lesser kin. The strays."
The other continued without missing a beat:
"All descendants of the Great House, no matter their strength, are to be summoned. All of them are being given… a mission. Complete the mission, and not only will your name be honored, but the House will accept you back into its arms."
Vonjo stared.
"What kind of mission?"
They ignored the question.
The taller one continued, his voice as crisp as winter wind:
"Those who succeed will be rewarded. Generously. Not merely with thanks, but elevation."
"You will be welcomed into the inner court."
"You will receive a private domain."
"Gold. Artifact scrolls. Beast contracts. Everything you were denied as a child will be returned tenfold."
"You will be dressed in battle silk woven from phoenix plume."
"Granted weapons forged from fallen stars."
"You will be allowed to take noble brides from the House's lesser central bloodline."
"Given a soulbound mount."
"Baptized in the Celestial Flame."
"Rewritten into the family registry—your disgrace erased."
"Your past forgiven. Your humiliation inverted. You will be reborn."
Vonjo's eyes widened.
The room suddenly felt hotter.
"Wait… you're serious?"
The man went on:
"You will live within the floating tower above the crater cities."
"You will be granted protective spirits who never sleep."
"You will be one of us again."
Vonjo's mouth opened, but no words came out of it.
His mind was reeling.
What… the actual hell?
His thoughts crashed in chaos.
They can't be this generous. Not the Sutterfouse. Never.
Then, at that moment, it hit his head.
Back in Vonjo's previous life. This thing sounds the same as that common thing upon the higher level family where old, powerful, and cruel families made false promises to fetch back 'lost trash' relatives, only to send them to die in mission or parts of hell that they haven't ventured.
They'd use them as bait. Or test subjects. Or worse—as bait for something worse.
And if they survived?
The family would kill them anyway. To keep secrets buried. A lose lose situation. No matter if they stand or not. A cannon fodder with a sure end.
Vonjo's stomach turned cold at one central point.
These rewards—this kindness—were too much. Too exactly what someone like him would want to hear.
Too convenient.
And soon, Vonjo's hair flared in fear.
The two men stood silently after their long, flowery speech, their eyes calm, but their presence felt suffocating.
The smell of smoke from the flickering ceiling light mixed with something faintly metallic in the air—blood? Old rust? Or maybe just the heavy stench of fate settling around him like a noose.
Vonjo finally found his voice. "What if I refuse?"
The taller one nodded solemnly. "You can."
The other added, "We are not here to force you."
They sounded sincere.
But Vonjo stared harder at them. Looked deeper through. And he saw it—the faint tension in their shoulders, the slight twitch in the left man's eye. He'd seen this before. Back when his father smiled when failed to awaken any kind of abilities from House of Sutterfouse.
He let out a hollow chuckle.
"If I refuse… you'll kill me right here, won't you?" he asked.
The two men tilted their heads at the same time, mock confusion spreading across their faces.
"Of course not," the one on the left said.
"No need for violence," the other agreed.
"You don't have to lie," Vonjo muttered. "It's in your eyes."
That made them stop pretending.
They both smiled—slow, thin-lipped, predator smiles.
"Well," said the taller one, "you're a little smart ass."
"Smart enough to stay alive this long," said the other. "Surprising, really."
Vonjo sighed deeply, shoulders slumping as he rubbed his eyes with a weary hand. "Alright. It seems I don't have a choice."
He wasn't strong. Not right now. Not without breaking the Vow he swore under celestial contract. That meant death if he tried. And these two? He didn't doubt for a second that they'd make his death as slow as his family always promised.
He's sure that the death in their hands would be slow and painful!
So… if he had to walk, he'd walk forward. Until he found a wall. Or a crack to slip through to escape or survive.
The two men grinned and turned to the door. "Come with us."
Vonjo followed quietly.
The door creaked open again.
The hallway beyond hadn't changed. The smell of something burnt still lingered, thick in the air like old grease.
There—right in front of the door—lay the landlady's headless corpse, still slightly steaming.
The two stepped over it without hesitation, their boots thumping lightly on the dusty floorboards.
Vonjo hesitated, then stepped too—careful not to look too long.
"What… what about the body?" he asked.
The shorter man snapped his fingers.
From the air, space itself rippled. A tear in the world peeled open like paper—and something stepped out.
A hound.
Or something like a hound.
Black, slick fur. Skin that glistened like tar. Its eyes burned a dim ember red. Horns curved back from its skull, and fangs peeked from its drooling maw. It sniffed once, and then growled low.
Vonjo braced himself—but the creature didn't release a wave of cursed energy like most hell beasts did.
It was… weak?
No, young. Juvenile.
Suddenly, the other man raised his hand. "Burn it."
The hellhound obeyed.
FWWWWOOOM.
A burst of deep orange flame erupted from its throat. The fire hit the corpse and—
SCREEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAA—
Vonjo jumped.
He saw it. The soul.
It was screaming. Burning.
The shape of the landlady—translucent and writhing—emerged from the fire, clawing at the air, her arms stretching in agony. Her mouth opened wide, the same unnatural smile twisted into a scream of horror. She reached for the door. Reached for him.
"No! Please! I'm not ready—I didn't even—!"
The flames engulfed her. Black fire swirled upward like a vortex, and her cries were sucked in, devoured, silenced.
Ash.
Everything is gone.
Vonjo stood frozen, heart pounding.
"Ugh," muttered one of the men, brushing his coat sleeve. "That thing was far uglier than most hell creatures. A mercy, honestly."
"Seriously," said the other. "Someone should've torched her sooner."
Vonjo's mouth opened, but no words came out.
"How's it feel?" one of them asked as they walked. "Going back to the family?"
Vonjo forced his jaw to move. "I… I'm not sure what to feel."
The men chuckled.
"That's fair," one said.
"Let's see if we can help," the other added.
And then they began.
"Do you still wet the bed?" asked the short one.
"No," Vonjo replied dryly.
"Are you still the disgrace who blew up a training doll in front of your entire third-branch elders?"
"…Yes."
"Have you stopped crying when someone uses their true form around you?"
Vonjo would be taken back, what are these weirdos asking him?
"What the fuck are these questions, you think I am toddler?"
"Do you still need a spirit talisman to cast basic light magic?"
"Fuck! No!"
"You're still weak, right?"
"Yes."
"You still can't use cursed flame?"
"No."
"You ever get a girl?"
"No."
"You ever talk to a girl?"
"…Once."
"Did she run away?"
"…She slipped on a puddle."
"Sounds like she was trying to escape."
"…Possibly."
The two exchanged grins, like school bullies toying with a bug under glass.
Vonjo realized that they were messing with him, and he couldn't help but comment on how weird this trip was. They were like dad jokes, but too out of pocket.
"And your father is?"
Vonjo didn't even blink.
"Vance Leonard Sutterfouse."
Everything stopped.
The air tightened.
Both men stiffened.
"Wait… what?" the tall one asked.
"You… your father is Vance Leonard?" the short one said, blinking rapidly.
Vonjo nodded.
The men stared at each other. They looked as if they were no longer trying too hard to joke at something that was never funny, and their expressions this time were genuine.
"Holy shit."
"How are you not dead?"
Then, there was a beat of silence.
Then both of them closed their eyes. Their expressions shifted. Grim. Pale.
Vonjo could guess their thoughts. He'd seen it before. Lived it.
Vance Leonard Sutterfouse.
A man who stood one step away from inheriting the main branch. His power was legendary. His cruelty, more so. A man obsessed with purity of bloodline and power. The moment he learned his own son didn't inherit the Sutterfouse talent?
It was as if he'd been betrayed by the universe itself.
Vonjo had been lucky. Or smart. Or both.
He had memories of another life—memories that screamed get out, vanish, never look back.
And he did.
He escaped before his father could do what every instinct in that monster surely wanted: erase the stain of weakness he'd created.
Soon, they reached a dark van parked outside the complex.
One of the men opened the back.
"Get in," he said.
Vonjo stepped inside.
There was someone already sitting there.
A teenage kid.
Calm. Composed. Sitting comfortably like this was his living room.
Vonjo stared at him.
The boy didn't look dangerous. Pale skin, smooth face, jet-black hair tucked behind his ears. He wore glasses, tilted down as he stared at something on his phone.
Something about him… felt off.
Vonjo narrowed his eyes.
"Who's this kid?" he asked.
No one answered.
But the boy
looked up.
And then—
DING!
Condition met.
Strongest Side Character System Activated!
Vonjo froze.
He didn't know who this kid was.
Didn't care.
Because in that moment, all his thoughts narrowed down to one thing.
A system?