Chapter 13: One Step The twilight of the Empire. A dark, decadent secret chamber.
Sssssss...
Expensive incense and mysterious drugs mingled in the smoke, drifting heavily through the air. Alcohol spilled between a tangle of naked bodies. Giggling faces gasped for air, tossing out lewd jokes. In every corner of the space draped in red velvet, forbidden pleasures burned hot.
Through that sticky, nauseating air, Rodriguez stepped forward.
The master of the chamber at the time, he offered a goblet encrusted with amethysts, wearing a sycophantic smile. The cup held a drug of a peculiar hue.
'Young Master of the great Ebenholtz family. Just one sip of this, and all the world's worries will vanish.'
Young Master. That word echoed as clearly as if it were spoken only last night.
This was my past.
Just one day out of the countless, meaningless days I had squandered before my regression.
The pathetic version of myself.
"…"
I opened my eyes and sat up abruptly.
I'd had a foul dream.
Back then, Rodriguez had been there. No, it wasn't just him. Countless bastards from the Imperial Guard, who claimed to be the Emperor's dogs, had been in that room.
The corruption and depravity of the ruling class. It was one of the many reasons the Empire fell.
I brushed back my hair.
"Refreshing."
The dream was unpleasant, but my body felt amazingly light. A mere thirty-minute nap had completely restored my vitality.
Was this also thanks to the Mana Core?
I stood up and changed into civilian clothes, throwing on whatever was within reach.
It was time to find a new place to live.
* * *
A mansion on Klein-Schmidt Street, a wealthy district in the 3rd Imperial Sector.
The place was crowded. Two members of the Imperial Guard under Rodriguez's command sat on the living room sofa with their legs crossed. The homeowner, Arman, was practically squeezed between them, while seven or eight subordinates lined up behind them.
"…Mr. Arman. Why the long face?"
One of the subordinates asked, crossing his legs. A forced smile flickered across Arman's lips like a convulsion.
"Just finish this with a few words. You see this, right?"
They tapped the Imperial Guard insignia on their chests.
In the capital these days, belonging to the Emperor's Imperial Guard carried more power than mere status or lineage. At least, that's what they believed.
"But—"
"But my ass. Do you really want your head to go flying, old man?"
"To pay the amount you've requested, I would have to—"
"Shut your mouth."
The 'nominal tax' the Imperial Guard had levied on Arman—the amount he was expected to cough up—was more than he would get even if he sold all his remaining assets at full price. Yet, Rodriguez was even preventing him from selling this mansion.
"You still don't get it. Do you think we're here to negotiate a sale? Just think of it as the price for your life."
Knock, knock.
A knock sounded at just the right moment. Arman flinched. The Imperial Guard member smirked.
"Behave. Open the door."
"Yes, sir."
The youngest of the group stepped forward and opened the door. A man stood on the other side. He was dressed in a neat uniform, but his swept-back hair and the lingering baby fat on his face gave him a youthful air.
Step. Step.
The man walked straight in and took a seat in the drawing room.
"A pleasure."
He greeted only the homeowner. He didn't even spare a glance for the Imperial Guard members beside him. He didn't even bother to introduce himself.
"…Yes. A pleasure."
"As I mentioned before, I like this house. It's a bit dilapidated here and there, but that actually suits me better. I can remodel it to my taste."
"Pfft."
One of the Imperial Guard members laughed at the young man talking nonsense. The homeowner's face grew pale.
The homeowner, glancing nervously at the guards, spoke up.
"Actually… I'm sorry to say this, but I already have a prior engagement with someone else."
"Yes, I heard. I'll pay you double what they offered."
The Imperial Guard member cut in.
"Hey. I told you there's a prior commitment."
The man stared intently at the guard. Then he turned back to Arman.
"Who is this person?"
"Ah, well…"
"Whatever, it doesn't matter. I'll pay the compensation to that person with the prior commitment as well."
"No. Does this kid not understand plain speech?"
Thud. One of the men stomped his combat boot on the floor, his face twisting into a menacing scowl.
"You should learn to read the room."
"It's not about reading the room. I've heard the news. If I don't buy it, this property will end up at auction anyway, won't it? That's why I'm offering to pay double. We can't have some random nobody occupying such a prime location."
"Random nobody? This brat is a real comedian, isn't he?"
Just as the atmosphere threatened to turn violent, the scripted play proceeded.
"—Stop."
The front door opened, and Rodriguez made his late entrance. At that moment, his subordinates stood up in unison, lining up to salute. It was a sequence designed to intimidate the opponent.
Rodriguez sat down next to the homeowner and spoke.
"My apologies. It seems my men have been disrespectful to a young knight."
"Yes. They were quite rude."
Rodriguez gave a small laugh.
"A pleasure. I am Major Rodriguez of the Imperial Guard."
The man stared at him in silence. He was likely flustered by the rank.
Satisfied, Rodriguez continued.
"As a Major of the Imperial Guard, I have already negotiated with Mr. Arman, the owner of this mansion. There are various complicated matters involved that I cannot disclose in detail, so I've come here to ask for your understanding."
"…Is that true, Mr. Arman?"
The man asked Arman. Rodriguez's eyes briefly flicked toward the homeowner.
"…Yes."
Arman answered in a crawling voice.
"It is true."
Rodriguez lowered his head, stifling a laugh. Instead, he pulled a cigar from his breast pocket and put it to his lips.
"Well. I'm sorry for making you come all this way for nothing. Would you like a smoke?"
"…"
The man looked at the homeowner. Then his gaze drifted back to Rodriguez. It was as if he were scrutinizing every detail of his face. Not just that, but his shoes, his clothes, and even his accessories.
"…He looks like the type who wouldn't even have the money to pay the gift tax if I handed this to him for free."
Rodriguez's brow furrowed instantly.
"You'd better watch your tongue."
The man didn't bother to reply, merely letting out a short laugh. It was a blatant sneer.
"Is this bastard insane?"
The subordinates behind Rodriguez reacted first. Rodriguez raised a hand to restrain them, and the man pulled out a checkbook. He scribbled a signature and handed it to the homeowner.
"I don't care what kind of agreement you made. I'm buying this house."
"Ha…"
A vein throbbed in Rodriguez's temple. A hollow laugh escaped his lips. Rodriguez struggled to suppress his rage, while Arman, the homeowner, looked at the young man's check.
"What is your reason? There's no benefit in picking a fight with the Imperial Guard like this."
The moment Rodriguez asked the question like a threat, Arman's eyes slowly widened.
He had read a certain 'name' inscribed on the check.
"Because I liked it."
In truth, I hadn't even looked at the interior in detail.
I just hated it. I just hated what these bastards were doing.
"I don't care what kind of promise you made to the owner. I don't give a damn."
Men like Rodriguez swarmed during the Empire's final days. A country like that deserved to fall.
Edmond blamed himself for the world's destruction, but it was the Empire itself that destroyed the world. The culprits were these pieces of trash who ate away at the Empire from the inside.
"My, my."
Rodriguez set down his cigar, still trying to act composed.
"A young man like you, what a pitiable—"
"…Maximilian Albrecht von Ebenholtz?"
A voice calling out a name cut through the room. It was the homeowner. He stared at the check with trembling eyes, and Rodriguez's face froze.
The man, Maximilian, looked back into his opponent's eyes.
"I'm buying this house. So."
Tap. Tap.
He tapped the table twice with his finger, as if shooing away a dog.
"Know your place and get lost."
Rodriguez's face flushed with rage and humiliation. He bit his trembling lip hard. But that was all. He couldn't utter a single word.
Because he had already heard the name Ebenholtz.
* * *
The mansion was empty now that the men with swords had all left.
I looked at the homeowner.
"You've taken good care of the house."
Arman's shoulders flinched. I understood. The person he had to deal with had changed from Rodriguez to an Ebenholtz. At the very least, it wasn't a better situation for him.
"Yes. It's a house I've lived in for a long time, since my father's time…"
"It's far too good a place to be filled with filth."
"Ah…"
I leaned forward. Looking into his eyes, I said,
"Take this money and leave the capital tonight."
I placed a finger on the check on the table.
"Nothing good will come of staying here. The south, with its pleasant climate, would be good. Somewhere like Marang should be fine."
The south was a region that suffered relatively less from both the clouds of revolution and the Empire's tyranny.
"That is…"
"Right now."
I urged the homeowner. Swallowing hard, he stood up, bowed deeply, and went to pack his things.
"…"
I watched his retreating back and quietly picked up my terminal. I dialed a familiar number. The call was answered before it could even ring a few times.
—Yes, Sir Knight.
"Hey, Engie."
Engie is the best butler.
He's also the best adjutant I know.
"I have a favor to ask."
—What kind of favor?
Engie's tone turned serious.
"You know a guy named Rodriguez, right?"
—Yes. An Imperial Guard member who came up from the East last quarter.
Engie was always well-versed in this kind of information.
"I had a run-in with him. He was trying to squat on the house I'm buying."
—Oh dear. Were you able to complete the purchase successfully?
"Yeah. I bought it. I offered the original owner double the market price."
—I see. The Head of the Family will be pleased as well.
A faint hint of amusement colored Engie's voice.
Zebestian wouldn't consider this a waste. Rather, he would be satisfied, seeing it as a sign of my spirit.
'If you want it, take it. Don't mind who the opponent is. You don't yet know the weight of the name you carry. No one in this Empire is more entitled than you.'
Take what you want. Break what you want to break.
That is the other side of the Ebenholtz family.
"But the thing is, it's pretty obvious what those guys will try to do."
—Yes. I suppose so.
"Even if the homeowner isn't a pure Imperial citizen, my reputation would suffer if someone I did business with came to a bad end, wouldn't it?"
—Of course.
Rodriguez. He's the man who becomes a high-ranking officer in the Imperial Guard before the regression. A pathetic fool who gets executed by the revolutionary army for selling drugs and alcohol.
"Engie, you know too, right?"
He is stupid, weak, evil, dull, and above all else.
"The Imperial Guard bastards have been overstepping their bounds lately."
Overstepping their bounds.
"I can't stand that."
Live and let live.
Before the regression, I had lived under that delusion. There were even times I hung out with the Imperial Guard because the knights looked down on me.
…I should have crushed them.
"Help me out just this once."
I won't ask for favors like this in the future. Engie is, after all, my father's man.
Since I've decided to live a new life anyway, I need people of my own.
—Yes. Understood.
"Right."
I hung up the phone.
Engie is Zebestian's confidant and the first commoner to reach the heart of the Ebenholtz family. He is also a monster who carries out orders by any means necessary.
All I have to do is wait.
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