Translator: Nox

Chapter 7

As Oscar’s speech became unceremoniously blunt, the Grand Duke shuddered as if having a fit.

“You can’t? Look here, Marquis!”

Despite his anger, Oscar remained indifferent, casually tapping the long stalk of ash from his cigar onto the floor.

“I’m asking. Can you do it, or not?”

The Grand Duke’s mouth hung open as if he had lost his words. Oscar put the cigar back between his lips and muttered, “Right, damn it. If you could have handled it at your level, it would’ve been done already.”

“…….”

Struck by the frost-cold profanity, both the Grand Duke and the woman clinging to him froze in shock. While Oscar took another long drag of his cigar, the Grand Duke finally regained his senses and barked in fury.

“Marquis von Reinhardt! How dare a Marquis of Luxen show such insolence to royalty of another nation? Do you think you’ll be safe if I make this public and send a formal letter of protest to the King of Luxen?”

In that instant, the trace of amusement—whatever its nature—evaporated from Oscar’s face.

The woman, forced to face Oscar because the Grand Duke was holding her from behind like a shield, realized with sinking dread that the man had made a disastrously wrong choice.

Oscar’s quiet, still gaze moved from the Grand Duke to the floor, then to the messy table, before he stood up without warning. He reached for the half-empty bottle of whiskey.

The woman began to tremble like an aspen leaf, though she couldn’t tell if it was her own body shaking or that of the Grand Duke holding her.

Bottle in hand, Oscar slowly turned his head toward the Grand Duke. Desperate, the woman wrenched herself away, prying off the hands that gripped her with all her might. It was an act she would never have dared while sober, but now, she was driven by a singular, frantic desire to flee from Oscar.

“Y-you wench! Get back here!”

The Grand Duke reached out toward the woman as she scrambled into a corner. But he couldn’t catch her. A dark shadow lunged forward, and his reaching hand was crushed into the sofa by a booted foot.

“Agh!”

As if his hands were too good for the task, Oscar used his right foot to pin the Grand Duke’s hand to the sofa and perched himself on the edge of the table. He lifted his left foot onto the sofa as well, blocking the Grand Duke’s right side. As he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the Grand Duke was completely trapped.

Oscar smiled, the cigar still in his mouth.

“I’m curious to hear what that letter of protest will say?”

The tip of the cigar glowed a bright, burning red.

“That you spent billions to entertain me?”

“Y-you…!”

“Don’t stutter like a moron. Speak up. Was there anything else?”

Only then, cornered as he was, did the Grand Duke remember something his brother had once said.

“Oscar—never take that man’s bait. His smiles, his breathing, his gaze… everything about him is a lure.”

That was why it was best never to meet him.

“M-Marquis! I’ll tell you what I know!”

Looking down at the Grand Duke, who was now clinging to him in desperate entreaty, Oscar took a deep pull of his cigar. He nodded, his lips curling into a smirk that invited him to continue. The Grand Duke spoke hurriedly.

“The person who has the vault key is a woman. And, well, she wasn’t the one who opened the vault. She presented identification, but…”

“But it’s impossible to decipher.”

“……!”

“Did you think you were the only one I planted in the bank?”

The trembling Grand Duke widened his eyes in a final, futile show of defiance.

“Even so, I am the President! If you want to open that vault, you shouldn’t treat me like this!”

“I don’t know about that. Pelfe Bank has already recognized the woman who brought the key as the rightful owner, and I heard a report has already been sent to the King.”

Both the Grand Duke and the woman shivering in the corner realized that the only reason Marquis von Reinhardt had been showing restraint until now had just vanished. Goosebumps erupted like mushrooms over their bare skin.

The only movement in the room was the smoke rising from the cigar held between Oscar’s fingers.

As a single second stretched into an eternity, Oscar stared at the bottle in his right hand. He gave the half-full bottle a dangerous shake, the liquid sloshing inside, then bit down on his cigar. Without any hint of haste, he elegantly reached out with his left hand and seized the Grand Duke by the throat.

The Grand Duke flailed, his face turning a deep, mottled purple.

“I think you’re mistaken about something, Your Excellency.”

“Ack, guh…”

“It would be nice to open that vault, but even if I don’t, do you think it would really be such a blow to me? It’s not like I’m losing something I already have; it’s something that hasn’t been opened for twenty-five years anyway, right? You should have understood that it’s just a form of insurance.”

“B-but I could find a way…”

“A way? From a piece of trash like you?”

“…….”

“I got a useless man like you into the Nopuk Royal Union Conference Hall and even made you the President. And instead of spying like you were told to do at the conference, you were busy reporting my movements to the King of Luxen.”

The Grand Duke’s thick neck snapped back helplessly like a broken chicken’s, and his mouth, slick with alcohol, fell wide open.

“Then you should at least have earned your keep as the President of Pelfe Bank.”

Oscar poured the whiskey down his throat.

“Hngh, mmp, mmph!”

The Grand Duke struggled with all his might, but there was no escape. Oscar suppressed him with the effortless ease of an adult handling a child.

He continued in a low voice, pouring the liquor into the man’s mouth as if filling a glass.

“The moment that key appeared, you became worthless. What I expected from you was to open the vault without the key. I was the fool for thinking you were capable of even a bit of thievery.”

The Grand Duke’s robe slipped off, and his bloated body became soaked with the alcohol spilling from his mouth. From her corner, the woman saw the Grand Duke’s eyes finally roll back into his head.

One man was struggling as if his life were ending, while the other was as calm as if nothing were happening. That disparity was more terrifying than any scene of loud, chaotic violence.

Whether he had fainted or died, the Grand Duke’s body slowly went limp.

Only then did Oscar release his grip, discarding the man’s neck like a piece of trash. He stared down at the sprawled figure and tossed the empty bottle onto the sofa beside him.

“Still. I didn’t realize you were quite this much of an idiot.”

He let out a dry, incredulous laugh and ran a hand carelessly through his hair. Then, his cold, piercing eyes shifted from the unconscious Duke to the woman.

“……!”

Holding her gaze, he lowered his legs from the sofa one by one and stood up, stretching his limbs.

Please save me.

As if he had heard the words she was too choked with fear to speak, Oscar looked down at her and said, “The Grand Duke had a bit too much to drink. Didn’t he?”

The woman, her face deathly pale, nodded vigorously.

“He’ll ask what happened. He’s the type whose memory vanishes completely after drinking himself into a stupor.”

“Yes, His Excellency.”

He stood there with his right hand in his pocket and his cigar in his left, his gaze sharp and chilling despite his words. Then, he offered a hollow smile.

“Then, I can trust you?”

Yes, please trust me. Yes, His Excellency.

She repeated the answer over and over, hardly knowing what she was saying.

Oscar listened to her parrot-like responses for a moment before turning away, walking leisurely across the room.

Terrified, the woman watched his retreating back.

He didn’t seem to have the slightest concern whether the Grand Duke of Pelfe lived or died. It was clear that even if the Grand Duke woke up tomorrow and remembered everything, Oscar wouldn’t care. She felt she could bet her entire life on the fact that this man feared not even the King of Pelfe.

Click.

The moment the door closed, she finally threw up everything she had drunk.

Meanwhile, the four men standing outside the door bowed deeply the moment Oscar emerged. Their eyes remained fixed on the floor, seeing only their master’s feet. Only after Oscar’s footsteps began to move away did they straighten up and follow close behind him.

As the powerfully built men strode down the hallway, Katrin, the owner of Amang Rose who had been waiting anxiously, felt as if a canyon were moving past her. She looked back once at the door where the Grand Duke had yet to emerge, then at the retreating Marquis, before finally hurrying after him.

“Y-Your Excellency…!”

She called out piteously, but she could not capture the gaze of the Marquis, who had not spared even Anna a single glance. He seemed to be walking at a leisurely pace, yet she could not catch up. All she could do was follow.