Chapter 6
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 6
* * *
“The vault key. You still haven’t found it?”
Oscar offered no reply. He simply smoked his cigarette, and just as the exhaled smoke vanished into the air, he casually posed a question of his own.
“Is there any news from Pelfe Bank?”
Just as I thought.
The Grand Duke rejoiced inwardly. How fortunate that he held news that would pique this unsettling man’s interest. And what a stroke of luck that it had arrived at this very moment.
Instead of answering, the Grand Duke took a drag from his own cigarette. As their gazes tangled in the murky smoke, a sound broke the silence.
Knock, knock, knock, knock.
A strangely chilling knock echoed from the door.
The Grand Duke glanced toward it, but Oscar simply asked the same question again.
“Is there any news from Pelfe Bank?”
The Grand Duke’s gaze shifted from the door back to Oscar. The cigarette between his fingers let out a thin, hollow stream of smoke.
“…”
“…”
After a few seconds of silence, Oscar nodded twice as if he had made a decision, then smoothly rose to his feet. As his shadow fell over the Grand Duke, it felt as if the world had gone dark.
“Marquis?”
Was it because he was the only one fully dressed? The only one standing? Or was it because he was being consumed by the shadow Oscar cast?
A crushing pressure descended like darkness.
The man’s handsome, flawless features curved into another gentle smile. That smile made the Grand Duke feel as if a noose were tightening around his neck.
“You said it was amusing. I’m curious.”
“N-No, well, that is…”
The Grand Duke stammered, and Oscar had no intention of tolerating such pathetic dithering. A dry chuckle escaped his lips, silencing the Grand Duke completely. Oscar nodded.
“If you’ll excuse me for a moment.”
The instant Simon saw Oscar step out of the room, he sensed his master’s patience had run out. He quickly relayed the news that had just arrived. Oscar, who had been standing there like a looming shadow, turned and re-entered the room without a word.
When Oscar, who had left only to return immediately, sat back down, the Grand Duke’s mouth went bone dry. Oscar, still wearing that same smile, put a cigarette to his lips and was soon shrouded in a hazy cloud of smoke. The smile vanished, leaving only his piercing blue eyes visible through the haze.
“Your Highness, Grand Duke Baden.”
The chilling voice that cut through the smoke caused a cold sweat to bead on the Grand Duke’s forehead. Every time his naked body flinched, his shrunken genitals dangled pathetically. The sight was so amusing that Oscar couldn’t suppress a low chuckle.
The deep, low laugh seemed to rise from the bottom of a mine, colder than a draft whistling up its shaft.
The Grand Duke pulled the woman beside him into a tight embrace, using her as a shield as he faced Oscar.
“Ack! Your… Your Highness…!”
Dogs bark. Wolves do not.
They simply lie low in the silent, waiting forest, biding their time. Only when the lurking wolf finally revealed its true nature did the Grand Duke realize he had been standing alone in the heart of a forest brimming with killing intent.
“Pelfe Bank. Is there anything?”
Exactly the third time.
A gut feeling that there wouldn’t be a fourth washed over him. The Grand Duke shifted uncomfortably and spoke in a rush.
“The person with the key to Vault No. 5555—the one you’re looking for—has appeared!”
“Is that so?”
“It’s a woman, and, uh, well…”
“Then when can I open the vault?”
“…”
“You can’t?”
As Oscar’s words grew curt, the Grand Duke’s body trembled as if he were having a seizure.
“You can’t? Now, look here, Marquis!”
Even as he raged, Oscar’s expression remained impassive. He merely flicked the long ash from his cigarette onto the floor.
“So. Can you do it, or not?”
As the Grand Duke’s mouth gaped like a man struck dumb, Oscar took another drag from his cigarette and muttered, “Then again, fuck. If someone at your level could have done it, it would’ve been done already.”
“…”
The sharp curse struck him like a slap, leaving not only the Grand Duke but also the woman in his arms frozen in a daze. As Oscar took another long drag of his cigarette, the Grand Duke came to his senses and erupted.
“Marquis Reinhardt! How dare a Marquis from Luxen show such disrespect to the royalty of another nation? If I make this an official issue and send a formal letter of protest to the King of Luxen, do you think even you can escape unscathed?”
In that instant, any trace of amusement vanished from Oscar’s face.
The woman, forced to face Oscar as the Grand Duke clutched her from behind, realized with chilling certainty that he had just made a terrible, terrible mistake.
Oscar looked at the Grand Duke with eyes steeped in stillness, then at the floor, then at the messy table, before rising from his seat without warning. He picked up the half-empty bottle of whiskey.
A tremor ran through her body, but she couldn’t tell if it was her own or the Grand Duke’s, who was holding her from behind.
Whiskey bottle in hand, Oscar slowly turned his head toward the Grand Duke. The woman desperately twisted, prying the Duke’s hands off her with all her might. It was something she would never have dared to do in her right mind, but now, she was filled with a single, overwhelming desire: to get away from Oscar.
“You… you wench! Get back here!”
The Grand Duke reached for the woman as she fled to a corner, but he couldn’t catch her. A dark shadow lunged forward, and a dress shoe stomped his outstretched hand into the sofa.
“Aargh!”
As if he didn’t even need his hands, Oscar pinned the Grand Duke’s hand to the sofa with his right foot and perched on the edge of the table. He placed his left foot on the sofa as well, blocking the Grand Duke’s right side. With his elbows resting on his knees, he had the man completely trapped.
In that position, Oscar smiled and lit a cigarette.
“I’m curious what your letter of protest will say.”
The tip of the cigarette glowed red.
“That I spent billions to entertain you?”
“You… you…!”
“Stop stuttering and speak. Was there something else?”
Only now, cornered, did the Grand Duke recall something his eldest brother had once said.
“Oscar… you must never take his bait. His smile, his breath, his gaze. Everything about that man is bait.”
It’s better not to meet him at all.
“Marquis! I-I’ll tell you what I know!” the Grand Duke begged desperately.
Looking down at him, Oscar took a deep drag from his cigarette. The corner of his mouth lifted as if to say, ‘Go on.’ With a nod, the Grand Duke hurried to speak.
“The one with the vault key is a woman, and, uh, she’s not the one who opened the account. She presented identification papers, but…”
“They’re indecipherable.”
“…!”
“Did you think you were the only one I planted in the bank?”
The trembling Grand Duke’s eyes flew open wide, as if in a final act of defiance.
“E-Even so, I’m the president! If you want to open that vault, you can’t do this to me!”
“I wonder. Pelfe Bank has already recognized the woman as the rightful key holder, and a report has been sent to the King.”
Both the Grand Duke and the woman cowering in the corner felt it—the one and only reason Marquis Reinhardt had been patient until now had just been shattered. Goosebumps rose on their naked skin.
The only movement in the room was the smoke curling from the cigarette between Oscar’s fingers.
In that moment, when a second felt like an eternity, Oscar glanced at the whiskey bottle in his right hand. He swirled the remaining liquor, the sound a dangerous slosh, and put the cigarette back to his lips. Then, as if there were no need to rush, he elegantly raised his left hand and seized the Grand Duke’s throat.
The Grand Duke’s face turned crimson as he struggled in the grip.
“You seem to be mistaken about something, Your Highness.”
“Gack, gh…”
“It would be nice to open that vault, but what great loss is it to me if I can’t? It’s not like I’m losing something I already had. It’s been sealed for twenty-five years. You should understand it’s just a form of insurance.”
“B-But I can find a way…”
“A way? A piece of shit like you?”
“…”
“I got you, a man who can’t even live up to his title, into the Norfolk Royal Union Conference Hall and even made you a bank president. But instead of spying on the Royal Union as you were supposed to, you were busy reporting my movements to the King of Luxen.”
The Grand Duke’s thick neck bent back limply like a broken chicken’s, his liquor-slicked mouth falling open.
“At the very least, you should have earned your keep as president of Pelfe Bank.”
Oscar tilted the bottle and poured the whiskey into the man’s mouth.
“Hngh, glug, glug.”
The Grand Duke struggled with all his might, but there was no escape. Oscar subdued him with the ease of an adult handling a child. He poured the liquor into the Grand Duke’s mouth as if filling a glass, his voice a low growl.
“The moment that key appeared, you became worthless as a bank president. What I expected from you was to open the vault without the key. I was the idiot for thinking you were at least capable of a little thievery.”
The robe he wore slipped off, and the liquor spilling from his mouth soaked his corpulent body. From the corner, the woman clearly saw the Grand Duke’s eyes roll back into his head.
One man was struggling for his life, while the other was as calm as if nothing were happening. The chasm between them was more terrifying than any scene of overt violence.
Whether he had fainted or died, the Grand Duke’s body slowly went limp.
Oscar dropped his neck as if tossing aside a piece of trash. He stared down at the sprawled-out man and tossed the empty bottle onto the sofa.
“Still, I had no idea you were this incompetent.”