Chapter 23
Chapter 23
But there might be books with the same title.
I shrugged and changed the subject.
"Elluaerd, shall we look at the proposal?"
Elluaerd approached closely, giving me an affectionate smile.
"Yes. But did you just call me by a nickname? Does this mean we're comfortable enough to come and go from each other's rooms now?"
"No. It's just that I've decided to shorten names with more than three syllables for convenience."
His face quickly fell. How is it that demons have more varied expressions than the people in this mansion?
"I see. Well, let's talk about something profitable first."
He handed me a document he was holding.
"Starting with the capital, Londinium, we spread a special epidemic throughout the Revent Empire, then exclusively sell the cure..."
"Rejected."
That's too heinous. I don't think I can bear the guilt.
"Hmm, then let's go with stock manipulation. We spread false information in the stock market, and after the operation is complete, we pull out at the high point."
"Oh, don't say such terrible things. That's the same as drowning innocent people in the Ever River, isn't it?"
"Money and illegality are inseparable. Villains aren't rich for no reason."
But why only bring methods like that! I want to keep at least a minimum of conscience!
In the end, I decided to express my own opinion.
"I want to make money in the realm of legality, using only slight tricks. How about opening the mansion as a tourist attraction? Or, since there are many rooms, we could rent them out or make a profit through hoteling."
"The only people who come to this mansion are assassins, magical beasts, or thieves. And the owner of the mansion would dislike it."
He let out a soft sigh and handed me another document.
"There are good investment opportunities. We can buy war bonds from countries at war or invest in war-related stocks to profit from the war boom."
"Um... I don't know much about investing."
"Just give me the right to manage your assets. I'll take care of it within the bounds of the law."
What if he loses all my assets or embezzles them? I feel untrustworthy, but it doesn't seem like that miraculous being would play around with my small amount of money.
Just looking at the expensive watch he's wearing, it seems like it's worth several times my entire fortune.
"Instead, if you lose it, I'll confiscate the watch."
At my firm tone, Elluaerd covered his mouth with the back of his hand and chuckled. His red eyes curved smoothly as he looked at me.
"You're someone who won't suffer losses. I like it."
I wish he would just lose all my money.
The thought of snatching it away while saying, 'That watch is mine now,' makes my mouth water.
Seeing my greedy eyes, Elluaerd pulled down his shirt sleeve to hide the watch and smiled again.
"Master, let's go have breakfast now. It's all ready."
After breakfast, I stuck to Dante and diligently helped with the dishes.
Actually, it was more like he washed the dishes I rinsed again, so he did it all by himself.
After finishing the dishes, I showed Dante, whose fatigue had slightly increased, an old letter.
"It's a 150-year-old letter. It's not addressed to me, but since both the recipient and sender are no longer in this world and the copyright has expired, I thought it would be okay to read it. Maybe they want this content to be revealed to the world. Can you read it for me?"
It's definitely not because I feel guilty about reading someone else's letter that I'm making such elaborate excuses.
Dante, wearing a white shirt with his sleeves rolled up and an apron, looked down at the letter with his blue eyes.
"It's written in the refined language used by nobles long ago."
I nodded and sat at the table. Dante brought out fragrant black tea and sat across from me.
He opened the letter with a paper knife and unfolded the neatly folded letter paper.
"Honey, why didn't you come last night? I was waiting."
I was so surprised by the low, languid voice that I almost spat out my tea.
"Yes? I accidentally fell asleep yesterday..."
Unlike my flustered self, Dante's blue eyes were calm and fixed on the letter paper without any agitation.
"It's the content of the letter."
He read such embarrassing words in such a seductive and impure voice without any hesitation?
Like a bewitching housekeeper. That's an unforgivable crime.
But I pretended to be nonchalant and cleared my throat.
"Ah, I got too immersed. Please continue reading."
The bewitching fox-like man read the letter in a calm voice.
"You promised to divorce that woman, so why haven't I heard anything? Was everything you said about loving me a lie? Just irresponsible pleasure..."
It was an affair letter?
"I think you can stop reading that. Even the dead have privacy."
"Understood."
He nodded, put down the letter he was reading, and opened another one.
"To the esteemed manager of the mansion."
I, who had been leaning against the back of the chair due to the lingering shock from the previous letter, straightened my back and adjusted my posture.
"Is it addressed to the previous manager?"
In response to my question, Dante's eyelids slowly lifted as he looked down at the letter without a word.
"It seems to be a letter addressed to the master. This number is the date it was sent."
I checked the date written on the envelope.
The 1820s, the early 19th century.
"To me? From the past?"
"It seems so. The first affair letter was from 150 years ago, and this letter is from 100 years ago."
Dante took a sip of tea and began to read the letter in a more serious voice.
Thus, it was revealed that the seductive voice from when he first said 'Honey' was intentional.
"Are you having peaceful days? The you who is reading this letter is probably the third-generation manager after a long time."
[I am the second-generation manager of the mansion, an old man nearing 95 years old.
As the day to complete my lifelong mission is not far off, I leave this letter for you, the chosen one.
There is no difficult content. It is merely to pass on our names and lives, which have lived in different eras, to you.
My name, the second-generation manager, is 'Hector von Brick.'
The name of the first-generation, the first mansion manager, is 'Rilke Teresa de Piasa.'
You only need to remember our existence.
As I write this letter, it is the Ron Kana era, and we are welcoming a bright spring. The long war has passed its peak and is reaching a lull. I hope the world you reside in is beautiful and peaceful.
Wishing happiness to you, the third-generation manager, Hector von Brick.]
The letter, heard in Dante's voice, was warm and lyrical, as if it contained the spring of that era.
Perhaps it was due to the lingering emotions and emotion of resignation. In this situation where Dante is reading the letter, I even feel a sense of longing.
At that moment, Dante handed me a golden four-leaf clover-shaped bookmark from the letter.
"It is the symbol of the second-generation manager. In the postscript, it says to cherish this symbol. Master, you were a chosen person."
Dante, who neatly folded the letter and put it back in the envelope, said.
I fiddled with the four-leaf clover bookmark and stared at the yellowed letter envelope.
"I never thought it would be a handover..."
What exactly is the manager of the mansion that it is chosen generation after generation like this?
I thought about 'Rilke Teresa de Piasa,' who was said to be the first mansion manager. The woman named Rilke depicted in the portrait I saw when I entered the underground rose chapel last time.
She had the same brown hair and green eyes as me.
Although she was much more beautiful than me.
She was definitely the first-generation manager.
"Dante, do you know about a person named Rilke Teresa de Piasa?"
Then, Dante, who had been lost in thought for a moment, parted his lips with difficulty.
"Yes. She is from the imperial family, but she is recorded in history as a 'cruel villain who tortured and killed many people.' Because of that, the word 'Piasa' is currently used to mean 'a bird that eats humans.'"
I've brought in a mastermind as a housekeeper.
