After Valko fell into the sea on that stormy night, the news reported an unexpected catastrophe: a violent storm had suddenly formed—something even the experts failed to predict—right above the cargo container dock. It destroyed multiple lobster farms and caused over 1.5 trillion VND in damages. The storm came out of nowhere and disappeared just as abruptly, leaving authorities completely baffled.
But amidst all the chaos, the police found something that should never have been at the container dock: Valko's will. It suggested he might have taken his own life there.
Because he was still wanted for first-degree murder, the police were skeptical about how authentic the document was. But every local witness claimed they really did see him that night.
A full-scale search and investigation began—heavily backed by the Kamakiri family. But days went by, and nothing turned up.
On the fourth day, they finally found the hoodie he had been wearing—half of it eaten away by some bizarre, unknown acid.
Had Valko really died?
There was still no official conclusion, but the police were clearly hitting a dead end. Meanwhile, the Kamakiri family—especially Mina—held a press conference announcing Valko's death. Standing beside her was Valko's half-sister, Jou Liu Yu.
At that time, Eri was living in the coastal city of Nha Trang, still completely unaware of everything. She had recently started working part-time as an English teacher there. All she'd heard were rumors that Starfall City had been struck by a strange storm. She had no idea Valko had fallen into the sea.
The moment she saw the news on the convenience store TV, Eri nearly shattered. Her body froze, trembling… and then she collapsed on the spot. The store employees had to rush her to the hospital…
On the tenth day, Valko's funeral was held. It was a funeral without even a coffin—organized by the Kamakiri family with support from the Jou clan. Because both clans were powerful, representatives from many major Asian factions attended: the Dragon Society, the Tri-Clear Heavens, the Five-Headed Worm, and the Wang family.
The head of the Wang family was a large, broad-shouldered man in a black suit. His skin was sun-darkened, his hair silver, his face covered in war scars. His name was Wang HongLi.
Walking behind him was his daughter, Wang Yi Dao, a platinum-haired beauty and a rising model—though very few knew she was from the Wang clan.
Mr. Wang and Dao stepped into the memorial hall where Mina and Aunt Tomi, both dressed in black kimono, knelt respectfully to greet the guests. Mr. Wang bowed and sat with them.
"My deepest condolences to both families," he said.
Mina bowed in return. When she lifted her head slightly, her eyes grazed over Dao—intentionally. But Dao avoided her gaze, turning away.
A cold, silent weight passed through both of them—thousands of unsaid words, and all the history between them. They had once been close friends…
After greeting the high-ranking guests, Mina returned to kneel before Valko's portrait and the sea of funeral flowers. She sat motionless, her face drained of all emotion. Outside, the guests chatted noisily, but Mina just sat there—quiet, alone, lost in thoughts no one could read.
The only thing surrounding her was silence and coldness.
Soft footsteps crossed the tatami floor. It was Yu—the tall, pale woman with long, loose white hair, dressed in a black suit that made her entire appearance even more striking.
Yu knelt beside Mina. Mina didn't react at all.
After a long stretch of silence, Yu whispered, her voice low enough for only the two of them to hear:
"Everything has gone exactly the way you wanted. But you don't look very happy."
Mina heard her clearly, but said nothing. Only after a moment did she speak:
"No. I'm very happy."
Her eyes lifted toward Valko's portrait. Yet despite her words, her face showed no triumph. No grief. Only an eerie emptiness.
A kind of emptiness only Yu could understand in that moment.
Valko was dead. Truly dead. Dead as nothing more than a disposable pawn to the both of them. A cruel, bitter truth.
Mina should have felt satisfied. But she kept remembering Duyen's heart-rending sobs at the container dock, crying in Shana's arms. Mina had wanted to run to her too—to hold her, to ease the pain she herself had caused. But she didn't.
She couldn't.
She… was a coward. Again.
Mina squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back the burning behind them. Duyen's screams, her tears, and Dao's refusal to look at her—
All of it churned inside Mina, shaking the "absolute faith" she had clung to so desperately.
Yu spoke again, her voice cold and emotionless.
"Valko is dead."
Mina glanced at her and nodded. Something inside her steadied again.
There was no turning back. Only moving forward.
I'm sorry, Duyen… I'm sorry, Dao… I hope someday… both of you can forgive me.
---
That night, at the enormous Kamakiri estate, Mina sat quietly in the outer garden, sipping her tea and listening to the gentle sound of the koto under the moonlight. In just a moment, she would have to enter the Shrine. That was why she needed to clear her mind from everything that had happened.
So Mina remained composed, sitting there enjoying her tea as if nothing had happened—despite the fact that her late husband's funeral had taken place that very morning.
She silently watched the swirling tea in her cup when she heard the soft clacking of geta approaching. She glanced to the side, trying to see who it was, and murmured,
"Mother…?"
Kamakiri Miko—her mother—stood there in a dark purple kimono, a middle-aged woman still astonishingly beautiful. Mina and Miko looked strikingly similar, almost like sisters rather than mother and daughter.
Lady Miko hadn't shown up at her son-in-law's funeral, nor had she taken part in any of Kamakiri's leadership affairs. It sounded strange, but everyone knew Lady Miko lived in deep seclusion, refusing to step outside the estate no matter the reason. She had always defended her son-in-law in the past, yet recently she hadn't said a single word. Until now.
Mina bowed calmly. She hadn't expected her mother to come to her on her own. If Miko approached her, it was usually only to scold or humiliate her. They had never once had a proper conversation.
When Mina was young, Miko had been brutally strict with her. No one ever understood why she despised Mina so much. Was it because Mina resembled Miko when she was young? Or because Mina's father hadn't been by Miko's side when she gave birth? But none of those reasons felt convincing.
All Mina remembered were the beatings, the harsh lectures telling her she would never become Kamakiri's heir, that she should simply fulfill the duties of a political wife—nothing more.
Mina hated her. Bitterly. And yet she silently admired her too—the way she had once been reckless in love, daring enough to chase Mina's father to the ends of the earth. Love could make people do anything.
But that was the Miko of the past. The Miko before her now was a broken woman.
Even so, Miko simply looked at Mina—no scowls, no grimaces, no harsh words. She quietly sat down in front of her. Mina was surprised, though she kept her face emotionless.
Then Miko spoke softly, almost in a whisper.
"…Valko's death… was your doing, wasn't it?"
Mina stiffened. She hadn't expected her mother to know. But Valko was now nothing more than a drifting corpse lost somewhere in the ocean. There was no reason to hide.
She nodded slightly.
"Yes… I killed him."
Miko closed her eyes. She had suspected this. She had hoped she was wrong. But what had happened could no longer be undone. Perhaps this was fate. Perhaps it had always been meant to happen.
She opened her eyes, staring directly at Mina—her voice gentle, but with a sharp undertone.
"…Stop this, Mina. I already told you. You are not fit to lead the Kamakiri family."
Mina stared back. That same sentence—the same thing she had heard for twenty-six years. And now that the position was unquestionably hers, Miko still dared to say it?
A maid approached, bowed, and said,
"Lady Mina, it is time for you to enter the Shrine."
Mina glanced at the maid, then at her mother. Miko's eyes remained firm, as if desperately trying to make her reconsider. But Mina simply stood, bowed politely, and was ready to leave.
Until Miko's voice rose again.
"That is a path you cannot return from!"
Mina paused.
"You will lose yourself! And… the one you love! Do you understand that!?"
Mina's heart tightened for a moment. She knew the path of Kamakiri's head was paved with sacrifice, cruelty, and the loss of one's humanity. But something inside her—some strange resolve—refused to bend.
"I won't be like you," she said softly. "I won't be a coward. And I can protect the one I love."
Miko shot to her feet and shouted, "Don't speak nonsense, Mina! You cannot do it!"
But Mina simply turned to the maid. "Let's go."
She walked away, leaving Miko standing there helplessly.
"…That's why I never wanted you to walk this path…" Miko whispered.
Mina had been bathed, purified, and dressed in a pristine white kimono with orange-red silk accents and the Kamakiri crest. She stood before the Shrine gates—the most sacred place of the Kamakiri family, where her grandmother, Kamakiri Nyoko, resided as a priestess.
The massive doors finally opened.
The inner hall had been decorated more lavishly than ever. The Sun emblem glowed brilliantly on the ceiling, and floating wooden boxes hovered above Nyoko—who knelt with her back toward Mina, appearing as a frail 78-year-old priestess.
Mina hesitated for a second, then stepped forward.
The air was strange… sweet yet heavy, with drifting mist covering the ground as though she were stepping into another world. Nyoko didn't move, didn't even react to Mina's respectful bow.
Then a voice—clear, young, impossibly youthful—came from Nyoko.
"…Many years ago, Miko's husband drowned at sea. A search team was sent out, but not even a piece of his corpse was ever found…"
Mina blinked. She had never heard this version of the story. But what unsettled her more was how young Nyoko's voice sounded.
Before she could speak, Nyoko turned around.
Standing before Mina was not an elderly woman—but a breathtaking young beauty.
Nyoko smiled gently while Mina stared, stunned but composed enough not to show it.
"…Grandmother?" Mina said quietly.
Nyoko chuckled. "Did I scare you?"
"No…" Mina shook her head.
Despite the youthful appearance, the tone and presence were unmistakably Nyoko. How she maintained such a form was beyond Mina's understanding, but the Kamakiri family had countless secrets she had yet to learn.
Instead of questioning, she chose to accept it. Her calmness made Nyoko raise an impressed eyebrow.
"Good. I see that resolve in you," Nyoko said.
She gestured, and a veiled maid glided forward, kneeling beside Mina. The maid presented a ring—intricate, carved with a Sun motif and set with three gems: green, red, and purple.
The Kamakiri Command Ring—Iron Sovereign. Mina had heard stories about it her whole life, yet never seen it.
Mina looked confused. "Grandmother… this is…?"
Nyoko smiled knowingly.
"It's early, isn't it? The ring ceremony is still a month away. You must be wondering why."
Mina nodded slightly.
"The ceremony is just tradition. Whether it's given then or now doesn't matter," Nyoko said. "What matters is that I trust you—completely, without hesitation—as the rightful successor. So wear it."
Mina still didn't fully understand her intentions, but as the junior, she obeyed. She lifted the ring and slid it onto the middle finger of her right hand.
Nothing happened. It simply felt a bit heavier than an ordinary ring.
Yet she couldn't shake the weight in her chest—a pressure, a sense of hidden danger. This ring meant something. Something enormous.
Nyoko smiled in satisfaction, though she clearly noticed Mina's uncertainty.
"Anyone who sees that ring sees the head of the Kamakiri family," Nyoko said. "Your word becomes law. The entire family must obey—without exception."
Mina froze in surprise. Such absolute power… from a simple ring?
"Truly, Grandmother? You mean… you grant me full authority over Kamakiri from this moment on?"
Nyoko smirked. "Did I stutter? I've said all that needs to be said, Mina."
Mina swallowed hard and looked at the ring. A rush of fear—and exhilaration—burned in her chest.
She hadn't expected to receive it so soon.
From this moment on, she could do anything.
Control everything…
Shape Kamakiri however she wished. And she would use it well.