The next afternoon.
'We've finally arrived!'
A man with his hat pulled down low stood in front of the fence with a pale face. He was wearing a black bowler hat, a shirt, a vest, and well-tailored trousers that looked nice. It was Mr. White. He was so excited to have reached the turning point of his long carriage journey that he wanted to jump up and down. But Mr. White, thinking of his appearance, expressed his joy by coughing in vain.
“What is it?”
Aaron, who had been awake when he heard the sound of a carriage outside the window, was already standing in front of the entrance. With a frown on his face. With bright blond hair and blue eyes, Biscov had no difficulty identifying the face as he had been looking at the portraits in the mansion for so long.
Mr. White opened the fence and went in with a kind smile on his face.
“Mr. Claude Biscov? I am from Eastern Rocks.”
“There is no such person.”
He responded coolly. Mr. White hesitated, but did not stop approaching.
“Who told you to come in without permission?”
“But if you want to stand outside and talk, you have to shout. Isn’t that rude? Let’s just shake hands with each other.”
Aaron stared blankly at the hand the man offered him. Eastern Rocks. It was the name of his home beyond the border, a world that had once been splendid with wealth, false fame, and real gold from the exploitation he had led, but which meant nothing to him.
Aaron sighed openly and crossed his arms. He didn't say anything for a while. Mr. White continued speaking awkwardly.
“You’re not surprised.”
“There is no reason to be surprised.”
He thought it would come sooner or later. It just came sooner than he thought.
The first person to come to Dublin from Eastern Rocks was about three months ago. He thinks it was because of Nick Hamilton's big deal. Even if he lives under the name Aaron Jenner, he never knows where the other ears might be. That's the world they live in.
The visitor from Eastern Rocks seemed very uncomfortable, probably because if Claude Biscov, who was living as Aaron, returned, the inheritance of the Biscov family would be in tatters. The Biscovian who was currently in power was Flann Biscov, Aaron's cousin. Aaron had no desire to return to Dublin, so he sent him back, saying, "Consider him dead." However, their sect risks its life on suspicion and the possibility of the future.
“So that’s right, Mr. Claude Biscov? Oh, I’m late in introducing myself. I’m White...”
“Please call me Aaron.”
“Ah, yes, yes. I am the lawyer handling the estate of Mr. Flann Biscov, the cousin of Mr. Claude Biscov. Mr. Flann Biscov was trying to speak to Mr. Claude Biscov about the inheritance of Mr. Everard Biscov, but when Mr. Ringman came to see you last time, you told him to consider him dead...”
Aaron cut him off.
“Yes, he is already dead. You have come to the wrong place, so please go back. My wife is still sleeping...”
While he was talking, Aaron noticed that Mr. White, who had come to visit him as a lawyer, was making a very uncomfortable expression. He turned around to see his wife, whom he had said was asleep, peeking out from behind a pillar with sparkling olive eyes. Since he already knew about Aaron, it was not strange for him to know about her, so Aaron looked back at Mr. White.
Mr. White smiled kindly. He was seriously contemplating whether he should hand this over or not. No matter what, he thought it was a bit inhumane to ask a living person to write a death certificate. However, since he had come all this way to get Aaron to sign this document, he had to show it to him.
“Are you sure you’re not going to come back to Dublin?”
“If you keep telling a dead person to get up from his grave, will he get up?”
Mr. White's brow furrowed at the openly spoken slander. As expected, the Biscov family is so shameless. Mr. White took out the documents in his arms and handed them over, with a conscience as strong as that of Aaron's cold treatment.
“Then, could you please sign it? Mr. Flann Biscov, please make sure that this matter is...”
[Death Confirmation Statement]
“Me too.”
The only people who would make a dead person write a statement saying they are dead would be his relatives. Aaron laughed for a long time in disbelief.
Mr. White's tension grew as Aaron's laughter continued. If Aaron had said, "I won't sign this," and come out with his stomach full, Mr. White would have to fight Aaron in this empty backwater.
“I see you’re still doing well.”
But Aaron, who had decorated the end of the laughter refreshingly, gently turned his head and asked Leila.
“Excuse me, Leila, but can you come in and get me a pen and ink?”
Mr. White grumbled inwardly at the completely different temperature compared to when he had met him. Thinking about it, he was a rude servant who didn't even give him a glass of water, even though he knew he had come a long way. However, when Leila came out with a glass of water along with a writing utensil, his heart melted like spring snow.
“Oh my, thank you.”
“Drink slowly.”
What a gentle and pretty girl. As he was giggling, he heard the cold voice of Aaron, who was slowly shaking the nib of his pen while dipping it in ink.
“Don’t glare at her carelessly. And don’t speak to the greenhorns.”
“It doesn’t matter. Anyway, Mr. Flann Biscov is pretty much a rag in that mess right now... Ah, that’s pointless.”
Aaron chuckled and looked at the documents thoughtfully before muttering something.
“It’s difficult.”
When the nib of the pen that touched the signature line did not move, Mr. White felt a little frustrated. Why on earth did that man not give it to me when he was about to?
“Why, why are you doing that?”
“What was Claude Biscov’s signature?”
Mr. White's face instantly turned dark. Flann Biskov was a very suspicious man, and if Claude Biskov were to scribble down a new signature, there would be another long period of trouble over the authenticity of it. But it was a joke, and Aaron smiled faintly and filled in the signature with a cool handwriting.
Mr. White had no hesitation in expressing his surprise.
“Are you really going to do this? Really?”
“Isn’t this why you came all this way?”
With a renewed sense, Mr. White looked at the old and shabby country house. It was really bad for someone who had been born and raised as the heir to one of Dublin's most prestigious political families. If the houses in Eastern Rocks were just houses, this house was a little more than a ruin. Claude Biscov must have been mad.
“Do you know what that signature means now?”
“That means Claude Biscov is dead.”
“It means you’re officially giving up everything about Biscov. It’s a shame... Don’t you think it’s a shame?”
Aaron, who had been staring blankly at him, reached out and took the jewel brooch pinned on Mr. White's chest.
“Huh? That’s expensive...”
“I guess you could give a flower to the grave of the deceased.”
“...That’s not a flower, it’s my jewel...”
“Bill it to the Biscov family. It’s not a big deal, but the medicine is a bit pricey.”
Mr. White was speechless at Aaron's firm words and just touched his empty chest. Aaron lightly threw and caught the red jewel brooch to tease him. Mr. White just puckered his lips. They really are like the shameless Biscovs!
Then, hearing Aaron's words, he stopped his internal condemnation and looked at him.
“But in the end, I’m happier than they are now.”
This is something that the vulgar lawyer who believes that money equals happiness simply cannot understand.
“What is that?”
Leila poked her head out and her eyes widened at the words on the top of the document that read, “Death Confirmation Statement.” Mr. White quickly snatched the document and rolled it up, fearing that the woman might suddenly turn vulgar and say, “Hey! Bring me the Biscov family fortune!” Then he shoved it into his chest as if stabbing it.
But Leila just tilts her head.
“It’s nothing.”
Aaron stroked Leila's hair with affectionate eyes. Fortunately, the woman didn't say anything, and the man who had died a moment ago seemed happier than ever.
'We've finally arrived!'
A man with his hat pulled down low stood in front of the fence with a pale face. He was wearing a black bowler hat, a shirt, a vest, and well-tailored trousers that looked nice. It was Mr. White. He was so excited to have reached the turning point of his long carriage journey that he wanted to jump up and down. But Mr. White, thinking of his appearance, expressed his joy by coughing in vain.
“What is it?”
Aaron, who had been awake when he heard the sound of a carriage outside the window, was already standing in front of the entrance. With a frown on his face. With bright blond hair and blue eyes, Biscov had no difficulty identifying the face as he had been looking at the portraits in the mansion for so long.
Mr. White opened the fence and went in with a kind smile on his face.
“Mr. Claude Biscov? I am from Eastern Rocks.”
“There is no such person.”
He responded coolly. Mr. White hesitated, but did not stop approaching.
“Who told you to come in without permission?”
“But if you want to stand outside and talk, you have to shout. Isn’t that rude? Let’s just shake hands with each other.”
Aaron stared blankly at the hand the man offered him. Eastern Rocks. It was the name of his home beyond the border, a world that had once been splendid with wealth, false fame, and real gold from the exploitation he had led, but which meant nothing to him.
Aaron sighed openly and crossed his arms. He didn't say anything for a while. Mr. White continued speaking awkwardly.
“You’re not surprised.”
“There is no reason to be surprised.”
He thought it would come sooner or later. It just came sooner than he thought.
The first person to come to Dublin from Eastern Rocks was about three months ago. He thinks it was because of Nick Hamilton's big deal. Even if he lives under the name Aaron Jenner, he never knows where the other ears might be. That's the world they live in.
The visitor from Eastern Rocks seemed very uncomfortable, probably because if Claude Biscov, who was living as Aaron, returned, the inheritance of the Biscov family would be in tatters. The Biscovian who was currently in power was Flann Biscov, Aaron's cousin. Aaron had no desire to return to Dublin, so he sent him back, saying, "Consider him dead." However, their sect risks its life on suspicion and the possibility of the future.
“So that’s right, Mr. Claude Biscov? Oh, I’m late in introducing myself. I’m White...”
“Please call me Aaron.”
“Ah, yes, yes. I am the lawyer handling the estate of Mr. Flann Biscov, the cousin of Mr. Claude Biscov. Mr. Flann Biscov was trying to speak to Mr. Claude Biscov about the inheritance of Mr. Everard Biscov, but when Mr. Ringman came to see you last time, you told him to consider him dead...”
Aaron cut him off.
“Yes, he is already dead. You have come to the wrong place, so please go back. My wife is still sleeping...”
While he was talking, Aaron noticed that Mr. White, who had come to visit him as a lawyer, was making a very uncomfortable expression. He turned around to see his wife, whom he had said was asleep, peeking out from behind a pillar with sparkling olive eyes. Since he already knew about Aaron, it was not strange for him to know about her, so Aaron looked back at Mr. White.
Mr. White smiled kindly. He was seriously contemplating whether he should hand this over or not. No matter what, he thought it was a bit inhumane to ask a living person to write a death certificate. However, since he had come all this way to get Aaron to sign this document, he had to show it to him.
“Are you sure you’re not going to come back to Dublin?”
“If you keep telling a dead person to get up from his grave, will he get up?”
Mr. White's brow furrowed at the openly spoken slander. As expected, the Biscov family is so shameless. Mr. White took out the documents in his arms and handed them over, with a conscience as strong as that of Aaron's cold treatment.
“Then, could you please sign it? Mr. Flann Biscov, please make sure that this matter is...”
[Death Confirmation Statement]
“Me too.”
The only people who would make a dead person write a statement saying they are dead would be his relatives. Aaron laughed for a long time in disbelief.
Mr. White's tension grew as Aaron's laughter continued. If Aaron had said, "I won't sign this," and come out with his stomach full, Mr. White would have to fight Aaron in this empty backwater.
“I see you’re still doing well.”
But Aaron, who had decorated the end of the laughter refreshingly, gently turned his head and asked Leila.
“Excuse me, Leila, but can you come in and get me a pen and ink?”
Mr. White grumbled inwardly at the completely different temperature compared to when he had met him. Thinking about it, he was a rude servant who didn't even give him a glass of water, even though he knew he had come a long way. However, when Leila came out with a glass of water along with a writing utensil, his heart melted like spring snow.
“Oh my, thank you.”
“Drink slowly.”
What a gentle and pretty girl. As he was giggling, he heard the cold voice of Aaron, who was slowly shaking the nib of his pen while dipping it in ink.
“Don’t glare at her carelessly. And don’t speak to the greenhorns.”
“It doesn’t matter. Anyway, Mr. Flann Biscov is pretty much a rag in that mess right now... Ah, that’s pointless.”
Aaron chuckled and looked at the documents thoughtfully before muttering something.
“It’s difficult.”
When the nib of the pen that touched the signature line did not move, Mr. White felt a little frustrated. Why on earth did that man not give it to me when he was about to?
“Why, why are you doing that?”
“What was Claude Biscov’s signature?”
Mr. White's face instantly turned dark. Flann Biskov was a very suspicious man, and if Claude Biskov were to scribble down a new signature, there would be another long period of trouble over the authenticity of it. But it was a joke, and Aaron smiled faintly and filled in the signature with a cool handwriting.
Mr. White had no hesitation in expressing his surprise.
“Are you really going to do this? Really?”
“Isn’t this why you came all this way?”
With a renewed sense, Mr. White looked at the old and shabby country house. It was really bad for someone who had been born and raised as the heir to one of Dublin's most prestigious political families. If the houses in Eastern Rocks were just houses, this house was a little more than a ruin. Claude Biscov must have been mad.
“Do you know what that signature means now?”
“That means Claude Biscov is dead.”
“It means you’re officially giving up everything about Biscov. It’s a shame... Don’t you think it’s a shame?”
Aaron, who had been staring blankly at him, reached out and took the jewel brooch pinned on Mr. White's chest.
“Huh? That’s expensive...”
“I guess you could give a flower to the grave of the deceased.”
“...That’s not a flower, it’s my jewel...”
“Bill it to the Biscov family. It’s not a big deal, but the medicine is a bit pricey.”
Mr. White was speechless at Aaron's firm words and just touched his empty chest. Aaron lightly threw and caught the red jewel brooch to tease him. Mr. White just puckered his lips. They really are like the shameless Biscovs!
Then, hearing Aaron's words, he stopped his internal condemnation and looked at him.
“But in the end, I’m happier than they are now.”
This is something that the vulgar lawyer who believes that money equals happiness simply cannot understand.
“What is that?”
Leila poked her head out and her eyes widened at the words on the top of the document that read, “Death Confirmation Statement.” Mr. White quickly snatched the document and rolled it up, fearing that the woman might suddenly turn vulgar and say, “Hey! Bring me the Biscov family fortune!” Then he shoved it into his chest as if stabbing it.
But Leila just tilts her head.
“It’s nothing.”
Aaron stroked Leila's hair with affectionate eyes. Fortunately, the woman didn't say anything, and the man who had died a moment ago seemed happier than ever.
He felt a lump in his throat as he fiddled with the documents in his arms. As he was doing that, Aaron turned around and glared at him with a displeased look.
“Aren’t you going?”
Mr. White laughed, pretending to readjust his hat.
“I’m going. I’m going.”
“Aaron, even so, since he's a guest from far away, I think he should at least have a meal before he goes... I’d also like to hear about what Aaron is like in his hometown.”
“Those seeds over there shouldn’t be treated like human beings, Leila.”
“Oh my god, to say something like that...”
Aaron cut Leila off with a light kiss and smiled. 'Trust me.'
Mr. White, who was suddenly treated as something less than human, wanted to secretly gossip about the Biscov family. 'You'll hate it if you hear it! They're rotten to the core! Claude Biscov is also rumored to be very dirty!' However, he didn't have time to show his dissatisfaction. The eyes that were glaring at him coldly were indeed Biscov's bloodline. He flinched at the eyes that were exactly like his employee, Flann Biscov. However, when Leila lightly pinched him, he soon closed his eyes sadly and smiled.
“I admit it’s a bit too much to call it human treatment. Mr. White, that was a slip of the tongue. Please be lenient.”
Biscov indeed! He had the habit of upper-class people not saying sorry.
“Aren’t you going?”
Mr. White laughed, pretending to readjust his hat.
“I’m going. I’m going.”
“Aaron, even so, since he's a guest from far away, I think he should at least have a meal before he goes... I’d also like to hear about what Aaron is like in his hometown.”
“Those seeds over there shouldn’t be treated like human beings, Leila.”
“Oh my god, to say something like that...”
Aaron cut Leila off with a light kiss and smiled. 'Trust me.'
Mr. White, who was suddenly treated as something less than human, wanted to secretly gossip about the Biscov family. 'You'll hate it if you hear it! They're rotten to the core! Claude Biscov is also rumored to be very dirty!' However, he didn't have time to show his dissatisfaction. The eyes that were glaring at him coldly were indeed Biscov's bloodline. He flinched at the eyes that were exactly like his employee, Flann Biscov. However, when Leila lightly pinched him, he soon closed his eyes sadly and smiled.
“I admit it’s a bit too much to call it human treatment. Mr. White, that was a slip of the tongue. Please be lenient.”
Biscov indeed! He had the habit of upper-class people not saying sorry.
Nevertheless, Mr. White laughed because he was surprised at Aaron smiling as if he was asking for a compliment while looking back at the country girl.
'Wow, this is truly something special.'
'Wow, this is truly something special.'
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