Why He Is Called The King

Miss Julian, back at her home, gazed at the card Young Master Richard had handed her earlier. Although she was curious, she hesitated before she finally dialed the number printed on it. The phone rang, for a few moments.

Meanwhile, in the headquarters of Basther LTD in Country Z, CEO Izawa was working late into the night. When his phone rang, he picked it up, his tone one of authority. "Izawa speaking. Who is this?"

On the other end, Miss Julian hesitated before speaking. "Um, Young Master Richard gave me this number, and I... I'd like to talk to him, please."

Izawa fell silent for a moment, a furrow forming on his brow. Young Master Richard rarely gave out his direct contact information. He made a quick decision. "Hold on for a moment."

Izawa dialed the mansion's number, and after a few rings, Randolf, the head butler, answered. "Mansion Blackthorn. How may I assist you?"

Izawa got straight to the point. "Is Young Master Richard at home?"

Randolf replied calmly, "I regret to inform you that Young Master Richard is not at the mansion at the moment."

Izawa was shocked and raised his voice. "Not at home yet? He should have been back hours ago. Did he go out?"

Randolf, maintaining his composure, responded, "Yes, Young Master Richard and his companions left the mansion earlier in the afternoon. He mentioned going out for some entertainment."

Izawa's anger was palpable. "And did Luna and the others follow him?"

Randolf, ever the professional, answered, "Well, it's their duty to accompany him. They've been doing so since they were young."

Izawa, irritated by the history lesson, snapped, "I didn't ask for a history lesson, Randolf. I asked a simple question. Did they follow him?"

Randolf remained unruffled and replied, "Yes, they did."

Frustrated and concerned, Izawa ended the call with Randolf and dialed another number. Luna's phone rang within the limousine, and she picked up, her voice calm and collected. "Yes, Izawa?"

Izawa wasted no time. His voice was urgent. "Luna, where are you right now?"

Luna's voice remained steady as she replied to Izawa's questions. "I'm in a limousine with Young Master Richard, Luella, and Jarmin."

Izawa's concern deepened as he asked, "So, are you all coming home now?"

Luna, however, pointed out, "No, I remember the Young Master mentioning something about going to an auction."

Izawa was slightly taken by surprise, his confusion could be heard in his tone. "Auction? Where exactly are you now, Luna?"

Luna answered, "Well, we flew in on a private jet, and right now, we're in Country R."

Izawa, now surprised and concerned, urgently requested, "Put Richard on the phone, Luna."

As Luna handed the phone to Richard, he couldn't help but smile, anticipating Izawa's reaction. He greeted Izawa in his usual nonchalant manner, "Hello, Mr. Izawa. What is it?"

Izawa's voice carried both concern and a hint of over-protectiveness as he replied, "Young Master, what is this I'm hearing about going to an auction in Country R? You should have at least informed me first. What would I have to tell the Master if something happened to you out there?"

Though his tone was similar to that of a protective parent, Izawa's concern was sincere, a reflection of the close bond between him and Richard.

Richard, ever the picture of confidence, reassured Izawa in his typically composed manner. "Calm down, Mr Izawa. I have my professionally trained bodyguards, Luna and Luella, with me. My trusty sidekick, Jarmin, is here too. Even the driver is not inferior to them in any way. And, you know, even if I somehow found myself alone, you're aware I'm no slouch either. After all, they do call me 'The King.'"

His tone held an air of playful pride, confident that he was more than capable of handling any situation.

The title "The King" wasn't given to Richard because of the extravagant life he led. No, it was a proof to his exceptional proficiency in almost everything he touched. Richard, at just 19, had earned countless titles and shattered records across many fields.

Was it his intellect? He outshone seasoned professors, his knowledge reaching heights unmatched by his peers. Was it his strength? A martial arts prodigy, he mastered judo, kempo, karate, boxing, and left behind a trail of broken records. Speed? He'd once been an Olympic champion, leaving spectators awestruck. It was true that family connections had paved the way for his participation in these events, but it wasn't his family's wealth that secured his victories.

Opponents, upon discovering they were facing a young prodigy rather than a seasoned veteran, felt their pride stung and gave their all. They fought harder, pushed themselves further, yet in the end, they faltered. It was as though Richard possessed some divine touch, an absolute knack for success. And so, the world hailed him as "The King," not just for his family's name, but for the undeniable greatness he brought to every challenge he faced.

Richard, hearing the genuine concern in Mr. Izawa's voice, quickly reassured him, "Izawa, trust me, we've got this under control. We're not taking any unnecessary risks. It's just a small detour for something important."

Mr. Izawa, though still reluctant, finally gave up and sighed, "Fine, young master, but you better come back as soon as you're done there. You know how precious you are to us."

As Richard handed the phone back to Luna, she could hear Mr. Izawa's voice erupting like a volcano. He yelled about the importance of Richard's safety, emphasizing that under no circumstance should anything happen to him.

Luna listened intently, her expression serious as she nodded toMr. Izawa's serious instructions. She knew she had a heavy responsibility, one that she took very seriously. Protecting Richard wasn't just her duty; it was her commitment.

Finally arriving at The Saldenburg auction house, the place was a masterpiece of futuristic design. Its sleek, glass exterior seemed to meld seamlessly with the night sky, reflecting the stars like a shimmering crystal. The entrance was adorned with a luminescent archway that cast an ethereal glow, guiding guests inside.

As Richard and his trio stepped out of the limousine, they joined a stream of other elegantly dressed attendees, each making their way toward the entrance. The polished floors beneath their feet seemed to have a gentle, radiant pulse.

Richard's keen eyes scanned the crowd, taking in the opulent attire and sparkling jewelry. However, his attention was abruptly captured by a particular individual. His cerulean eyes widened with surprise, and he thought, "No way... What is he doing here?"