Chapter 97
Chapter 97
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 97
Chapter Title: Chapter 19: Interest Compounds (7)
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“Contact came in?”
“Yes, the item’s arrived. They want you to come pick it up.”
Bellego, who had been stroking his round, protruding belly over a meal, abruptly shot up from his seat.
‘Finally!’
It had been a full fortnight since he placed the commission, and now it was bearing fruit.
“What do you want to do? I could go alone…”
“No, I’ll handle it myself.”
Bellego hurriedly prepared to head out and soon boarded the carriage.
With his servant and knight in tow, he swiftly departed the mansion.
As the carriage picked up speed, the servant who had followed him aboard was at his side.
In the servant’s hands was a wooden box about the size of a man’s head. Bellego snatched it away and flipped open the lid.
What emerged from within was a lump of metal.
Not just any metal, but magical restraints: one for the neck, one each for the wrists.
“Heh heh heh heh.”
With this, success for his grand scheme was only a matter of time.
‘They definitely said they’d grant me a priest position if I brought them that outsider.’
Once he became a priest, he’d never have to worry about his remaining years.
The glory laid out before him had laughter bubbling up uncontrollably.
Of course, it didn’t last long.
He recalled the culprit who had driven him to this.
‘That bastard chased me out, but I can’t just let it end like this.’
Bellego scowled and slammed the box lid shut with a sharp crack before tossing it back to the servant.
By the time the servant fumbled and barely caught it, Bellego leaned back against the carriage seat and placed a hand on his swollen belly once more.
Bellego had been born the eldest son of Protoraam, dubbed a titan of the supply trade, and had grown up wealthier than anyone.
Even amid the continental chaos of war, his generously padded frame on both sides was proof of the affluence passed down through generations.
Within Perel, he was a member of one of the few families that had amassed colossal fortunes—and the firstborn, no less.
But he had realized early on that family business wasn’t for him.
‘Playing with numbers? It’s just boring and headache-inducing.’
Knowing his own impatient nature, sitting still to pore over figures and ledgers didn’t suit his temperament.
As such, he harbored no strong attachment to the family trade.
He wasn’t particularly gifted at scheming or calculating profits anyway.
His late father had sighed over him often, lamenting how he was dim-witted yet hot-tempered.
It was probably the old man’s way of expressing regret and cutting down a son who fell short of expectations.
As a child, such words had troubled him, but now he barely cared.
However, once his younger sibling seized the trading company and family fortunes, the money dried up—and that was a problem in every way.
He still had a decent personal fortune left, but over a lifetime, it wasn’t anything impressive.
He, who had lived without want, was now forced to scramble for a way to make ends meet.
That was when he thought of the temple.
‘With divine power, multiplying my wealth would be a breeze.’
He could secure backing from the realm’s most influential figures.
On top of that, he’d wield power spanning the entire continent.
Social status and influence unattainable through mere riches.
‘With that, even that bastard won’t be able to look down on me anymore.’
Bellego ground his teeth at the thought of his sibling, who had cut off all support after claiming the family and company.
Wasn’t he suffering needless hardship because of that punk?
The more he dwelled on it, the more indignant he felt, bordering on rage.
Separate from acknowledging his own limitations in talent, he couldn’t accept being stripped of his privileges.
For that reason alone, this venture had to succeed.
Hand over the outsider to Agnotia’s side, and he’d be ordained a priest next year.
As Bellego gritted his teeth in hostility toward his sibling while steeling his resolve for the future, the carriage arrived at its destination.
The location, pre-notified by the guild, lay on the outskirts of Havon Castle.
Bellego, hooded, entered the rundown building with his servant and knight.
There, after verifying his identity with the agreed passphrase, a staff member inside grabbed the floor and pulled.
“This way down.”
“Tch.”
Bellego wrinkled his nose briefly at the musty air rising up.
He covered his mouth and nose with a handkerchief and descended the steep stairs.
Even after reaching the basement, he had to traverse a passage leading beyond the castle walls.
How far did they walk along the damp underground tunnel filled with moist air?
A faint light appeared in the distance.
Bellego halted before a door crudely fitted with wooden planks.
At his glance, the servant stepped forward and knocked.
As if they’d been waiting, the door swung open.
“Oh, we’ve been expecting you. Come on in.”
The man who appeared wore a grin plastered across his face.
His yellowed teeth gleamed with the smile, and Bellego’s face twisted in disgust.
‘Filthy.’
This was why dealing with lowborn scum always soured his mood.
Just sharing the same space made him queasy.
“Where’s the goods?”
Bellego pressed the hand over his mouth and nose harder, stepping back half a pace. The man’s eyebrow twitched faintly.
But Bellego didn’t notice. The man quickly schooled his expression.
“Right here, all prepped and ready for easy transport.”
Re-donning his sales-pitch smile, the man stepped back and turned.
This revealed the interior he’d been blocking: the slumped figure of a man bound in ropes.
Bellego’s lips twitched upward.
The distinctive attire, the subtly different skin tone, and the bizarre sigils floating above his head.
Outsiders with two sigils were still rare.
And among that scant few, only one confirmed bearer of the Palao sigil.
Pushing the man aside, Bellego rushed to the outsider.
“This the one I described? If you’ve grabbed the wrong guy, you’d better brace yourself.”
To be safe, he double-checked, and a confident reply came.
“You bet. We confirmed him coming and going from the Bennett estate multiple times.”
Bellego lowered himself as he heard the answer.
Grabbing the outsider’s hair and yanking his head up, his lips curled involuntarily.
It matched the face from the viewing crystal.
“Huh-huh.”
With this guy, he could really become a priest.
“This the item you were after?”
“Yeah, ugh.”
Standing back up, Bellego turned with a sour look.
‘If I’d known it’d go this smoothly, I would’ve lowballed the price.’
But the commission fee talk was already done.
Refuse payment, and he’d be blacklisted from the guild forever.
Bellego reluctantly rummaged in his pocket.
Understanding the gesture, the man rubbed his hands and approached.
“Here.”
Bellego drew a hand from under his hood and handed over a slip of paper.
A check issued by the Kerman Bank.
Ten thousand Her, the agreed commission fee minus the deposit.
Even as he passed it, Bellego shot lingering, regretful glances before clicking his tongue and turning away.
The man who received the check, meanwhile, inwardly cheered.
‘We sent some half-assed mercs on a whim, and it succeeds on the first try?’
He’d only pay the mercenaries a thousand Her and pocket the remaining nine thousand.
Stroking the check now in his grasp, the man beamed, unable to hide his delight.
Bellego’s face, by contrast, remained pinched.
“Bring the restraints!”
Was it the pain of the big payout? He bellowed at the servant by the door.
The servant scrambled over with the box and popped it open.
The restraints had already been inscribed with mana.
All that remained was fitting them on the outsider.
Bellego snatched them up without hesitation and reached for the outsider again.
“Hah?”
The man who’d pocketed the check suddenly made an odd noise.
Bellego whipped around at the abrupt sound. A bead dangling from the man’s belt was glowing.
‘That’s…’
A portable telegraph.
Full-sized telegraphs transmitted text precisely, but compact portables like this one were limited to light signals.
A light on it meant someone had activated its paired counterpart.
Blink, blink, blink.
Staring at the relentless flashing, Bellego inexplicably felt his heart race.
Unable to bear the mystery and unease, he demanded,
“What the hell’s going on?”
“Oh.”
The man, scowling as he headed for the door, turned to Bellego.
“Nothing major. I’ll step out—finish up.”
Still polite, but oddly businesslike unlike before receiving the check, he moved with a hint of urgency.
Moments after the man shut the door behind him, a distant thud echoed.
The knight who had descended with them gripped his sword hilt and approached the door.
“Young master, we should head back as soon as possible.”
Sensing something amiss, he urged Bellego.
Bellego had caught on that something was off, too.
“Tch, doing business like this…”
This was why you shouldn’t mix with the rabble.
Muttering lowly, Bellego tried once more to lock the restraints around the outsider’s neck.
Another thud shook the surroundings, and the unconscious, limp outsider twitched.
Bellego’s hand slipped as a result.
Irritated, he whipped around.
This time, the vibration was unmistakable.
Faint commotion sounds reached them, too.
Bellego finally lost it and bellowed,
“Garon, go see what’s happening!”
“Yes, young master.”
No sooner had Knight Garon flung the door open than Bellego grumbled in dissatisfaction.
“Ugh, what the hell’s going on…”
“What do you think?”
A stranger’s voice replied.
“My surprise gift in return for yours.”
A shadow surged right up to his face, coiling around his throat.
“Gahk!”
The outsider, eyes now open, had looped his arm around Bellego’s neck and was squeezing hard.
Clear shouts followed.
“Round them all up!”
“These scum defiled the Church!”
“Kill any who surrender!”
“Seize them!”
Amid the uproar, the unfamiliar voice rang out again.
“Your gift was so impressive, I put some thought into mine. Like it?”
The outsider who’d been out cold moments ago.
“You’ll enjoy it whether you like it or not—rejection’s still acceptance. Got it, you caught-red-handed bastard?”
Bellego felt his blood run cold at the low voice rumbling above his head.
Damn System