“Tell the Countess that I’m sorry. I won’t touch her again. And you, too.”
Whether it was an apology or a farewell, Cliff left those words behind and was taken away by the police.
Erne was about to answer whether he could mess with anyone, but he just waved his hand in annoyance.
“Did the conversation go well?”
Marquis Mosley came in after Cliff had been dragged out. Erne's head was still complicated.
His body was passed on to the followers, who, Cliff speculates, may have experimented on it.
“Marquis, you said that Roam escaped from prison just before his execution?”
“That’s right.”
“Cliff or his butler might have helped in the escape. They are fellow followers.”
“We will investigate thoroughly.”
Unfortunately, the Marquis's plan went awry from the start. Two of the followers committed suicide along the way, and the third died from the spell of binding.
And the butler did not open his mouth even under harsh interrogation.
The butler only said one thing,
“Our Lord is coming back soon.”
It is said that the butler bit his own tongue after saying these words.
'My body was taken away by the followers.'
Some circumstances suggest some kind of experiment was done. However, it is unknown what kind of experiment was done. Also, why the body was abandoned in the forest.
“They didn’t just throw it away because they thought the experiment was a failure, did they? Sir Henry said so. The forest where the body was found is a deep place that only herbalists would enter.”
I, who heard Erne's story, guessed that they had abandoned Erne while conducting an experiment. It made sense. However, only the followers would know the truth.
Marquis Mosley promised to share information with Erne. It wasn't very appealing, but I couldn't help but trust him.
No matter how outstanding Erne's skills were, he couldn't find followers who were hiding in this vast empire on his own with the help of assistants.
And above all,
“I don’t have money to pay the interest.”
“What about the money I got from Cliff?”
“I paid last month’s interest and used it for our living expenses. Now I don’t have any left.”
Financial difficulties have struck.
Every month Smith received 20 gold pieces in interest alone, which was the amount I had to make and sell over a thousand candles to earn.
Fortunately, I don't know if I should call this fortunate, but thanks to the gold lock, interest has not been a problem.
Meanwhile, my guests often gave me extra money, and the material merchant often lowered the price.
But now that all that luck has disappeared, and competition has arrived, I am in trouble.
“...Now I might really have to adopt Mr. Smith.”
Erne frowned at my sigh-mixed muttering.
“Isn’t that moneylender older than me?”
Erne frowned as if he found it disgusting.
“First, I’ll scrape up all the gold I have and give it to him, and then I’ll explain the situation to him.”
“Will you spare him the situation? I heard he’s a bad guy.”
“We’ve been close for a while now, so wouldn’t he mind letting me off the hook this once?”
“What if I don’t look at it?”
“Well, wouldn’t he let it slide if you put a knife to his throat?”
“Who is holding the knife to that guy’s neck?”
I stared at Erne. If not you, who else? I was saying with a mad look in my eyes.
Erne, who would have joked that he wasn't the type of person to point a knife at just anyone, was serious this time.
At this rate, I'll end up sitting next to Judith and sucking my thumb.
“I’ll try to borrow it. But if Smith still says he’ll sell me out, I’ll be shocked.”
“How many subordinates do he have?”
“Roughly speaking, twenty people?”
Roughly speaking, twenty? Then that means there are actually more than that. And they are all sword-wielding men.
However, there probably weren't many people who had proper sword training, so it seemed like they could run away with Judith if they did well.
Erne thought so until he followed Judith to Smith's office.
“...Twenty people at a glance? How does that number look like twenty, Miss Harrington?”
“There weren’t this many last time.”
I avoided Erne's eyes.
Only four guys were guarding the entrance. The hallway leading to Smith's office was filled with an endless number of grumpy, slovenly guys.
And of all of them, Smith's impression was the worst.
“Welcome, Countess of Rhineland.”
Smith, who greeted me with a bright smile, looked like a moneylender even when seen riding a horse.
He had a very picky and mean face, with a mustache that grew out of him in a vulgar way, and he would chase anyone to hell for money.
“There’s a servant behind you?”
Erne furrowed his brow. Smith's eyesight is not good. Even though Erne covered his face, how can he be a servant?
“Or a lover?”
Smith whispered, his eyes strangely wide.
How disgusting. Erne's eyebrows were furrowed to the point where they almost came together, but Judith smiled as if she wasn't even disgusted.
'How wonderful your stomach is.'
Whether it was an apology or a farewell, Cliff left those words behind and was taken away by the police.
Erne was about to answer whether he could mess with anyone, but he just waved his hand in annoyance.
“Did the conversation go well?”
Marquis Mosley came in after Cliff had been dragged out. Erne's head was still complicated.
His body was passed on to the followers, who, Cliff speculates, may have experimented on it.
“Marquis, you said that Roam escaped from prison just before his execution?”
“That’s right.”
“Cliff or his butler might have helped in the escape. They are fellow followers.”
“We will investigate thoroughly.”
Unfortunately, the Marquis's plan went awry from the start. Two of the followers committed suicide along the way, and the third died from the spell of binding.
And the butler did not open his mouth even under harsh interrogation.
The butler only said one thing,
“Our Lord is coming back soon.”
It is said that the butler bit his own tongue after saying these words.
'My body was taken away by the followers.'
Some circumstances suggest some kind of experiment was done. However, it is unknown what kind of experiment was done. Also, why the body was abandoned in the forest.
***
“They didn’t just throw it away because they thought the experiment was a failure, did they? Sir Henry said so. The forest where the body was found is a deep place that only herbalists would enter.”
I, who heard Erne's story, guessed that they had abandoned Erne while conducting an experiment. It made sense. However, only the followers would know the truth.
Marquis Mosley promised to share information with Erne. It wasn't very appealing, but I couldn't help but trust him.
No matter how outstanding Erne's skills were, he couldn't find followers who were hiding in this vast empire on his own with the help of assistants.
And above all,
“I don’t have money to pay the interest.”
“What about the money I got from Cliff?”
“I paid last month’s interest and used it for our living expenses. Now I don’t have any left.”
Financial difficulties have struck.
***
Every month Smith received 20 gold pieces in interest alone, which was the amount I had to make and sell over a thousand candles to earn.
Fortunately, I don't know if I should call this fortunate, but thanks to the gold lock, interest has not been a problem.
Meanwhile, my guests often gave me extra money, and the material merchant often lowered the price.
But now that all that luck has disappeared, and competition has arrived, I am in trouble.
“...Now I might really have to adopt Mr. Smith.”
Erne frowned at my sigh-mixed muttering.
“Isn’t that moneylender older than me?”
Erne frowned as if he found it disgusting.
“First, I’ll scrape up all the gold I have and give it to him, and then I’ll explain the situation to him.”
“Will you spare him the situation? I heard he’s a bad guy.”
“We’ve been close for a while now, so wouldn’t he mind letting me off the hook this once?”
“What if I don’t look at it?”
“Well, wouldn’t he let it slide if you put a knife to his throat?”
“Who is holding the knife to that guy’s neck?”
I stared at Erne. If not you, who else? I was saying with a mad look in my eyes.
Erne, who would have joked that he wasn't the type of person to point a knife at just anyone, was serious this time.
At this rate, I'll end up sitting next to Judith and sucking my thumb.
“I’ll try to borrow it. But if Smith still says he’ll sell me out, I’ll be shocked.”
“How many subordinates do he have?”
“Roughly speaking, twenty people?”
Roughly speaking, twenty? Then that means there are actually more than that. And they are all sword-wielding men.
However, there probably weren't many people who had proper sword training, so it seemed like they could run away with Judith if they did well.
Erne thought so until he followed Judith to Smith's office.
***
“...Twenty people at a glance? How does that number look like twenty, Miss Harrington?”
“There weren’t this many last time.”
I avoided Erne's eyes.
Only four guys were guarding the entrance. The hallway leading to Smith's office was filled with an endless number of grumpy, slovenly guys.
And of all of them, Smith's impression was the worst.
“Welcome, Countess of Rhineland.”
Smith, who greeted me with a bright smile, looked like a moneylender even when seen riding a horse.
He had a very picky and mean face, with a mustache that grew out of him in a vulgar way, and he would chase anyone to hell for money.
“There’s a servant behind you?”
Erne furrowed his brow. Smith's eyesight is not good. Even though Erne covered his face, how can he be a servant?
“Or a lover?”
Smith whispered, his eyes strangely wide.
How disgusting. Erne's eyebrows were furrowed to the point where they almost came together, but Judith smiled as if she wasn't even disgusted.
'How wonderful your stomach is.'
While Erne was thinking that, Judith spoke in the most humble and pitiful tone possible.
“Here’s this month’s interest. Mr. Smith, I have a favor to ask you...”
“No.”
Before Judith had even finished speaking, Smith firmly declared his refusal.
"No..."
“No, Ma’am. Even if you wring out a dry rag, what’s the use? Water comes out.”
Smith shook his head and made a wringing motion.
“I’m not asking you to defer all of the interest. Can’t you just defer half of next month’s interest to the month after next?”
“What kind of nonsense are you talking about?”
Smith was adamant.
“Business isn’t going well, it seems?”
Judith nodded sullenly. Then Smith tapped the table and opened his mouth.
“How about I show you how to wring out water from a rag?”
“Can you help me find a job?”
Smith pointed at Erne with his fat chin.
“The servant looks strong, ma’am. There are many things he can do if he puts in the effort.”
His eyes, shining with oil, looked Erne up and down.
“Hey, Mr. Smith, you better watch your eyes. With all this money, wouldn’t it be a shame not to see it for yourself?”
Erne, who was quite offended, got angry and sneered, but the answer came from an unexpected place.
“Ah, it’s a shame I can’t see it, it’s a shame.”
“...”
No, why are you answering, Judith? Erne was speechless at Judith's nodding, looking at the gold ring Smith was wearing with envy.
“Whether he’s a servant or a lover, he has a really good personality.”
Smith, who was being ridiculed, smiled as if he was satisfied. Isn't this perverted?
“Looking at his hands, he seems like a guy who fights a lot, and his personality is fiery.”
Be very critical, be critical.
Erne was so shocked by the situation that the moneylender was judging him that he was no longer angry.
“I have a job just for that guy, ma’am. I don’t know if you know it’s called the arena.”
“A stadium? It’s a place where people fight for money.”
“I have a friend who runs a stadium, and he said he’s worried because there aren’t any fresh faces these days. Should I write you a letter of recommendation, ma’am?”
Judith's eyes widened when she heard that she would be given 50 silver coins just for entering the arena as a player.
“Why are you asking such an obvious question, Mr. Smith? Write it down right now.”
...You should ask my opinion too. You’re not going to go out and fight, are you?
“Here’s this month’s interest. Mr. Smith, I have a favor to ask you...”
“No.”
Before Judith had even finished speaking, Smith firmly declared his refusal.
"No..."
“No, Ma’am. Even if you wring out a dry rag, what’s the use? Water comes out.”
Smith shook his head and made a wringing motion.
“I’m not asking you to defer all of the interest. Can’t you just defer half of next month’s interest to the month after next?”
“What kind of nonsense are you talking about?”
Smith was adamant.
“Business isn’t going well, it seems?”
Judith nodded sullenly. Then Smith tapped the table and opened his mouth.
“How about I show you how to wring out water from a rag?”
“Can you help me find a job?”
Smith pointed at Erne with his fat chin.
“The servant looks strong, ma’am. There are many things he can do if he puts in the effort.”
His eyes, shining with oil, looked Erne up and down.
“Hey, Mr. Smith, you better watch your eyes. With all this money, wouldn’t it be a shame not to see it for yourself?”
Erne, who was quite offended, got angry and sneered, but the answer came from an unexpected place.
“Ah, it’s a shame I can’t see it, it’s a shame.”
“...”
No, why are you answering, Judith? Erne was speechless at Judith's nodding, looking at the gold ring Smith was wearing with envy.
“Whether he’s a servant or a lover, he has a really good personality.”
Smith, who was being ridiculed, smiled as if he was satisfied. Isn't this perverted?
“Looking at his hands, he seems like a guy who fights a lot, and his personality is fiery.”
Be very critical, be critical.
Erne was so shocked by the situation that the moneylender was judging him that he was no longer angry.
“I have a job just for that guy, ma’am. I don’t know if you know it’s called the arena.”
“A stadium? It’s a place where people fight for money.”
“I have a friend who runs a stadium, and he said he’s worried because there aren’t any fresh faces these days. Should I write you a letter of recommendation, ma’am?”
Judith's eyes widened when she heard that she would be given 50 silver coins just for entering the arena as a player.
“Why are you asking such an obvious question, Mr. Smith? Write it down right now.”
...You should ask my opinion too. You’re not going to go out and fight, are you?
They say that when someone is too absurd, they become speechless, and Erne was exactly like that.
Judith smiled brightly and received the letter of recommendation from Smith. Then, before Erne could say anything else, she linked arms with him and walked out of the office.
“Arenas are illegal.”
Erne, who was dragged out, had a rather dissatisfied look on his face.
“A person cannot live only by doing legal things.”
No, do I have to live like that?
“You said you were a man who could live without the law.”
“Oh, it’s because I have flexible beliefs.”
Everything is flexible, everything is flexible. Really...
Erne turned his head to the side as if he didn't like it, but Judith grabbed his arm and shook it.
“Sir Ern is good at fighting.”
The structure of making money in the arena is simple.
You bet on which of the two players who enter the field will win. If a match is decided, the winner takes all the money.
Even though the odds are 50-50, it's not easy to pick a winner.
But what if you knew someone really good at fighting? What if you could pick a guy who could just blast away three or four Assassins?
“Would the little guys in the arena be a match for Sir Erne? Absolutely not.”
Sir Erne wins. Judith gave him a thumbs up and flattered him, saying that there is no one as skilled as him.
Judith smiled brightly and received the letter of recommendation from Smith. Then, before Erne could say anything else, she linked arms with him and walked out of the office.
“Arenas are illegal.”
Erne, who was dragged out, had a rather dissatisfied look on his face.
“A person cannot live only by doing legal things.”
No, do I have to live like that?
“You said you were a man who could live without the law.”
“Oh, it’s because I have flexible beliefs.”
Everything is flexible, everything is flexible. Really...
Erne turned his head to the side as if he didn't like it, but Judith grabbed his arm and shook it.
“Sir Ern is good at fighting.”
The structure of making money in the arena is simple.
You bet on which of the two players who enter the field will win. If a match is decided, the winner takes all the money.
Even though the odds are 50-50, it's not easy to pick a winner.
But what if you knew someone really good at fighting? What if you could pick a guy who could just blast away three or four Assassins?
“Would the little guys in the arena be a match for Sir Erne? Absolutely not.”
Sir Erne wins. Judith gave him a thumbs up and flattered him, saying that there is no one as skilled as him.
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The debt would have ended if they just k*lled off Smith. He's so fishy, and with that kind of interest, you won't really be able to pay the debt. Ugh.
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