Chapter 3
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 3
With Oscar's help, the Grand Duke had become the president of the Pelfe Bank and gained entry into the Norfolk Royal Union Conference Hall. The nobles of Pelfe who had once ignored him finally began to treat him as a true Grand Duke. It seemed as if he would have it all.
Yes. It had seemed that way.
Until the man before him became an unnerving presence.
“Marquis Reinhardt. What is the meaning of this insolence?”
“Insolence?”
His piercing blue eyes, visible through the haze of smoke, were menacing.
“Go on, finish what you were doing. Didn’t I say I would wait?”
“Marquis!”
“If you’re referring to my tardiness, I do apologize,” Oscar said, a cigarette held between his lips, his voice laced with amusement. “I thought this was a secret rendezvous, but it seems the location was leaked. I had some uninvited guests.”
The Grand Duke, who had helped summon those very guests, felt his heart plummet. Oscar looked as if he already knew everything.
“But by the way…”
Oscar trailed off, then gave a languid smile.
“I’m curious… what interesting news did you have for me?”
Perhaps it was the way his hair fell across his forehead, but he looked perfectly at home amidst the decadent, smoke-filled air. He was a man who had inherited the blood of a great and storied noble family, yet he carried the air of a ruffian who roamed the back alleys.
And as a rule, such things were closer to instinct.
The arousal that had gripped the Grand Duke moments before evaporated. His sweat vanished, replaced by a sudden chill, and the fine hairs on his skin stood on end.
His instincts were screaming.
They told him that the man before him was furious to his core and that he had to find a way to appease that anger, and fast.
The Grand Duke’s eyes darted back and forth.
About three years ago.
When Oscar had first come to him.
The man had promised to make him a proper Grand Duke and had demanded just two things.
One, that he take the person Oscar assigned to him when entering the Norfolk Royal Union Conference Hall.
And the other…
“The vault you’ve had your eye on.”
“…”
“What was the number again? In the four-thousands? No…”
The Grand Duke’s wavering gaze locked with Oscar’s. There wasn’t a trace of humor in those chillingly piercing blue eyes.
He swallowed hard, the sound loud in the tense silence. A voice as cold as the eyes of the man sitting across from him soon followed.
“Number 5555.”
Vault No. 5555, the secret vault of the Pelfe Bank.
The vault Oscar von Reinhardt wanted to open.
The Grand Duke clutched at his trembling heart and wet his dry lips.
“That vault key… you still haven’t found it?”
* * *
About two hours earlier.
Around the time Oscar and his Wolves were dealing with their uninvited guests.
The door to the Pelfe Bank’s VIP lounge opened stealthily. Through the crack, a pair of light brown eyes sparkled.
Reddish, heavy wooden walls, gilded decorations, a carpet that looked exceptionally plush, and an employee on duty despite the late hour.
Is this the place?
Only after a quick survey of the room did Seo-ah step inside. The carpet was just as plush as it looked, completely swallowing the sound of her footsteps and erasing her already faint presence. Perhaps that was why the employee, who was reading a newspaper, didn’t notice her enter at all.
Even as she walked to a table and placed her luggage on a sofa, the employee remained oblivious.
After a moment’s hesitation, Seo-ah cautiously reached out and tapped the table.
Tap, tap.
Though she had tapped lightly, the sound felt as loud as thunder in the quiet room. She held her breath, focusing all her senses on the man.
Rustle.
The sound of a page turning. Seo-ah slowly raised her eyes.
“…”
The employee was still engrossed in his newspaper. She took a deep breath and tapped the table again.
Tap, tap.
“Um… hello.”
The employee, who had been flipping through the evening paper with a bored expression, finally snapped his gaze up. He shot to his feet reflexively, and just as reflexively, Seo-ah lowered her eyes.
“Welcome. Please come in…”
His greeting trailed off, and a brief silence followed.
Her face tingled. Seo-ah fought the urge to let her head droop. When she slowly lifted her gaze, she met a pair of very clear green eyes.
The moment their eyes met, she looked down again.
“How did you get in here?” the employee asked abruptly.
With her eyes still lowered, Seo-ah mulled over his words for a moment before gesturing vaguely behind her.
“…Through the door.”
“…”
The employee blinked, at a loss for words, then pressed for more detail.
“You mean you came in alone? Without an escort?”
Seo-ah considered his question before asking quietly, “Is that a problem?”
“No, that’s not what I meant…”
The employee was confused. He glanced around, wondering if he was dreaming with his eyes wide open. This was, without a doubt, the Pelfe Bank’s VIP lounge.
Then who in the world is this woman?
The Pelfe Bank did not discriminate. Even if a client was a commoner, as long as they had the means to open an account, they were treated with the utmost respect. The problem was the substantial minimum deposit required—a condition that even many nobles failed to meet. Therefore, those who could cross the threshold of the Pelfe Bank were typically owners of well-known corporations, high-ranking nobles, or royalty.
Guards and customer service staff were stationed at the bank’s main entrance. Non-customers couldn’t even loiter nearby, and it was standard procedure for an assigned employee to personally escort any visiting client. That was why he had been able to relax and read his newspaper; he would have been notified in advance of any arrival.
But this woman was already suspicious for arriving alone, and her appearance was even more so.
Though a chill had begun to creep into the morning and evening air, it was still summer. Yet she was wearing a woolen coat fit for the dead of winter. It was visibly unkempt, as if it had been neglected for a long time, and it hung on her strangely, like she was wearing someone else’s clothes.
Furthermore, like a person guilty of some crime, she kept her head slightly bowed and refused to meet his eyes. And above all, there was something strange about her—a feeling he’d gotten in that fleeting moment that he couldn’t quite put into words.
Just then, the woman suddenly spoke.
“I came because I want to open a vault. Is this not the right place?”
“A vault?”
“Yes.”
The word made the employee pause. He asked with a doubtful expression, “Did you bring the key?”
At his question, Seo-ah let out a small sigh of relief. It seemed she had come to the right place.
“Yes, I brought it.”
A vault and a key.
The employee, who had been on the verge of calling a guard, gestured politely to a chair instead.
“Please, have a seat.”
Seo-ah placed her luggage on the floor and perched on the very edge of the sofa. The employee cleared away his newspaper, sat down across from her, and pushed a black velvet tray in her direction.
“May I see the key?”
Seo-ah slipped a hand inside the lapel of her thick coat.
The employee watched her carefully. From inside the old coat, she pulled out a small pouch attached to a string that seemed sewn into the lining. The mouth of the pouch was tied shut again and again with another string, a clear sign of her determination not to lose its contents.
But that part wasn’t suspicious. It was standard for only a single key to be issued for a vault, as it was the only way to open it. Many people went so far as to wear it on a necklace day and night.
His gaze, which had been fixed on the pouch, traveled up her slender white fingers to her face.
Her dark brown hair was tied back, revealing a face so pale it was almost translucent. Judging by her complexion alone, she could have been a nun who had spent her entire life within a convent, never once seeing the sun. A round forehead was framed by a halo of baby hairs, below which were neat eyebrows. The eyes he had briefly met were a light, clear brown.
A pale face, dark brown hair, and light brown eyes.
All exceedingly common colors. Though she was unusually pale, a fair complexion was typical for Norfolkians, and her hair and eye color were nothing remarkable.
So why does she draw the eye?
Just then, the woman, having finally untied the pouch, took out the key and placed it on the tray. Her face, which had been tilted down, was revealed like the moon rising from beneath the surface of dark water. As he saw her head-on, the employee could finally put into words the strange atmosphere he had sensed.
Like a single white lily blooming among red roses, or a sudden chill mixed into a midsummer breeze… she was utterly foreign and unfamiliar.
It was obvious she wasn’t from Pelfe, and she didn’t seem to be from the Norfolk Continent, either—despite her fluent use of the common tongue.
Just then, the woman, who had been staring intently at the key, pushed the tray a little closer to him. At the urging gesture, the employee retrieved it. His gaze, which had been nailed to her face, finally broke away.
The shape of the key, at least, was correct.
“Please state the number of the vault you wish to open.”
“Number 5555.”
5555.
The employee, who had been writing the number on his notepad as he heard it, froze. He looked down at the number he had written, then at the key, and then slowly raised his head.
“You mean number… 5555?”
Seo-ah glanced at him and nodded.
“…Yes.”
In that instant, all the suspicion that had grown while he scrutinized her appearance faded into the background.
Vault No. 5555. The number changed the employee’s attitude as if it were a magic spell. He asked several times to confirm that this was indeed the key, and each time, Seo-ah answered dutifully.
“Yes, that’s right. …Yes, number 5555.”
“…”
“Is there a problem?”
Only when the woman, who had been avoiding his gaze the entire time, stared directly at him as if to ask what was wrong, did the employee have no choice but to believe it. The Outsider before him had not made a mistake.