Chapter 83
Chapter 83
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: The Mannequin Provocation
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"In the end, it was nothing but the bluff of a greenhorn."
The cocky upstart who had boasted he'd show whether it was bluffing or not ended up spending the weekend in silence, unable to produce anything until it was nearly over.
He might have found the retired old man living quietly laughable, but even that brat must have sensed something was wrong upon seeing the administrative sanctions imposed on the newspaper.
A mere knight with a single title could be tormented plenty within the bounds tolerated by the Emperor.
"Heh heh~ What an idiot."
Thanks to that one-day pup who wasn't even a titled noble yet held his head high and barked away, I'd landed a solid hit on the Emperor, which put me in a great mood.
The Emperor himself wouldn't care much about that deranged whore, but it would serve as ample warning to the upstarts trying to latch onto her.
Just slowing the growth of the Emperor's faction would be a huge help to my son.
"Hm~"
I leaned back in my chair with teacup in hand and gazed out the window.
The sky was as exhilarating as my uplifted spirits.
The clear blue fitting for the weekend doubled my good mood.
- Knock knock
As I savored the azure sky lost in thought, a cheerful knock shattered the silence and filled the room.
- Ting-a-ling~!
"Your Excellency, pardon the intrusion."
I lightly shook the small bell on the desk twice, and the head butler opened the door, bowing his head deeply.
I watched him silently until he raised his head, entered, and closed the door. Only then did I set down my teacup and speak.
"What is it?"
"The heir of Count Hume has finally made his move."
"...The eldest?"
"No, the second son."
My brow furrowed.
I'd wondered if the eldest or Count Hume and his wife might protest, but the upstart who'd been quiet until now?
What could he possibly accomplish by moving at this late hour?
Any action after such hesitation would amount to timid rebellion at best.
"Ha."
Instead of groveling flat, this half-hearted nonsense only drew a hollow laugh.
No matter that he was Count Hume's son, he was still just an inexperienced kid.
I felt ashamed of myself for having worried, even slightly, that he might be different as the son of that son.
"So, what did that brat do?"
"He posted this in Western Square of the Imperial Capital."
When I asked what disgrace the upstart had committed, the head butler placed a small piece of paper from his hand on the desk and slid it toward me.
A photo of a bulletin board in Western Square.
Surely he hadn't posted some manifesto related to our encounter?
All that bluster, and his response was mere tattling?
Pathetic. Disappointing.
The kind of idea an illiterate would have.
"Tch!"
I clicked my tongue sharply and snatched up the photo.
"......"
Then, upon seeing the single image it captured, I couldn't help but widen my eyes.
A sculpture-like female form draped in clothing so thin and skimpy it could be called rags.
Posting such obscene artwork in the capital's square?
"Those bastards...!"
The office that permitted this was a problem, and so was William, the upstart who posted it.
This wasn't advertising or promotion—it was pure provocation, a blatant "fuck you" aimed at me.
"Get rid of this beggar-like trash right now."
"Well... since it's illegal posting, the Knights have already confiscated and disposed of it."
"What...?"
Illegal?
So the brat posted this on his own in the capital's square?
"Madman..."
I genuinely couldn't comprehend it.
To pick a fight with me by committing such insanity?
Everything else aside, I had to admire his nerve.
But that was it.
"His brain doesn't seem to turn very well, though."
Committing such blatant lawbreaking handed the knife to his opponent and bared his neck like a fool.
"Head butler, what was on my schedule for Monday?"
"Nothing except your afternoon meeting with the Duke of Devonshire."
"Perfect."
I smiled and lifted my teacup.
What a thoroughly bland conclusion.
_
As Monday's sun rose and I finished breakfast, I headed straight to the brat's Atelier, where two Imperial Knights still stood guard at the entrance.
"F-Former Duke of Devonshire, you're here again?"
As I stepped down from the carriage and approached the knights, a low-ranking one I'd seen before—looking tense—bowed slightly and subtly blocked my path.
"Is William that brat inside?"
"Yes, but as for a meeting..."
Since the brat was inside, the low-rank knight's opinion didn't matter.
I wanted in, so I would enter.
"P-Please wait a moment..."
I brushed the low-rank knight aside and opened the Atelier door, at which the flustered knight dared lay a hand on my shoulder.
Did he think being the Emperor's knight made him the Emperor?
Ridiculous.
"Do you perhaps find this retired old man laughable too?"
I grabbed the knight's hand, peeled it from my shoulder, infused my voice with mana, and glared at him.
"N-No, sir. Please, go ahead."
The knight bowed deeply and stumbled back.
How dull.
"Be more careful next time. I forgive only once."
"Yes, sir..."
I left the warning and strode past into the Atelier.
Narrow hallway lined with several rooms.
I found the one marked as the workshop.
The brat had definitely emerged from here last time, so high chance he was inside.
"......"
I flung the door open without knocking and slowly scanned the interior.
A filthy room where nobles, commoners, and beastkin mingled like kids playing house.
But among the dozen or so people inside, William was nowhere to be seen.
"Where's William, that brat?"
"What rude company. Shouldn't you introduce yourself before looking for someone?"
As I searched for the brat, a scolding voice came from one corner.
I frowned and located its owner.
"Don't just stand there gawking—what are you doing?"
"......"
What caught my eye was a familiar-looking blonde girl.
But one I'd never met before.
A noble?
I knew every noble, so...
Then a commoner, but her casual movements cutting fabric and her seated poise exuded an elegance commoners couldn't easily mimic.
"I am Nicholas Patrick Alexander Edmund Cavendish, Former Duke of Devonshire—now merely holding an empty count's title after passing the dukedom to my son. And who might you be?"
Rather than bulldozing with arrogance before an uncertain foe, I decided to yield one step, introducing myself politely as she wished and fixing her with a steady gaze.
The girl gently set down her fabric and scissors, met my eyes, and opened her mouth with a soft smile.
"I'm Elizabeth. I don't have a status worth mentioning to you yet."
"......"
Pretty words, but it boiled down to her being a commoner.
A commoner insulting a noble?
Rage surged to the top of my head.
"You..."
"Sir William, whom Lord Cavendish seeks, is in the next room. Surely your business is with him, not me?"
As I opened my mouth to give the commoner a piece of my mind, she indifferently pointed to the wall beyond.
I wanted to tear her apart right then, but as she said, now wasn't the time to bicker with such an ill-mannered wretch.
Deal with the utterly reckless William first—then I could dispose of this commoner too.
"...Thanks."
"You're welcome."
I swallowed my anger, expressed gratitude, and closed the door.
Then I stormed to the next room she'd indicated and roughly yanked the door open.
"Oh~ I've been waiting, Former Duke of Devonshire."
The instant the door opened, the brat waved his hand as if on cue.
I entered, slammed the door shut, and fixed him with a murderous glare. He grinned and added,
"How did you like the gift I prepared?"
"Your guts are commendable, but you've crossed the line this time."
"To what do you refer?"
"What's the point of illegally posting obscene material?"
I curled one lip and approached his chair, tossing the photo of the square poster at him.
He caught it with both hands, glanced at it, smirked, and tossed it onto the table before him.
"I've paid all fines related to this. A whopping 12 silver."
"Ha, you know this won't end with that? Posting obscenity starts with hard labor—don't tell me you didn't know."
"Heh heh~ Your Excellency knows one but not two?"
The brat raised his right index finger, wagged it side to side with a sneer, then spread two fingers.
"There are two crimes for posting obscenity."
"Two?"
News to me.
As I narrowed my eyes in question, he folded one finger and continued.
"One is distributing images of nudity in public places or to unspecified multitudes."
He folded the other.
"The other is distributing images that 'evoke' nudity in public or to multitudes. The former is a serious crime, the latter minor."
"So what? You still distributed obscenity."
"Did you even look at the photo properly?"
His eyes widened in mock surprise as he flung the photo back at me like a boomerang.
"That's a mannequin, not a person. Not nude, but evokes nudity."
"What?"
I hurriedly examined the photo.
The woman in the image had no head, and parts of the body shining through the clothes were crudely rendered in spots.
"So it's a minor crime. Illegal posting: 5 silver. Obscenity posting: 5 silver. Plus 20% surcharge for multiple minor crimes—total 12 silver fine, and I've paid it all."
"Ha... haha..."
Blood pressure rising, nape tingling.
This damned slippery eel exploited legal loopholes to humiliate me?
"You little weasel...!"
I knew whoever strikes first loses, but rage overrode reason—I grabbed his collar and yanked.
Emotions surging, mana leaked from my body and dispersed around us.
"Hmm..."
Yet amid the menacing atmosphere, the brat calmly looked up at me and curled one lip.
"Your Excellency, if you want 'rough talk,' know this: I have no magic power. A light tap from you would kill me outright—I'm that fragile."
The brat provocatively offered one cheek.
Half-lidded eyes as he added,
"But if you still want rough talk, by all means."
"......"
That obnoxious expression, that arrogant demeanor.
He'd inherited Count Hume's rudeness and his wife's composure, birthing an even more irritating creature.
I wanted to slap him senseless, but as he said, he might actually die—trapped rage churned my guts and spiked my blood pressure.
How could two brilliant mages produce such an incompetent?
"Damn it..."
"Phew~ I thought I was dead. As expected of a former Swordmaster—your presence is unmatched."
As I calmed and released his collar, he regretfully rubbed his cheek and leaned back in his chair.
"......"
Glared coldly down at him, but the damned brat lifted his eyes and met my gaze to the end.
What an insolent punk...
Continuing this talk would only hurt me.
Time to show, not tell, with actions.
I pointed at him and murmured lowly,
"Last time, this time—I won't let it slide. You'll regret mocking me."
I issued the ultimatum like a declaration of war and turned to leave the room.
"Looking forward to it."
Just before closing the door, his ever-calm reply reached my back.
"Ha..."
Backtalk to the very end, scraping at my nerves—the brat had awakened a long-dormant boiling in my blood.
Good.
Even retired from active duty, I wasn't dead yet—a chance to proclaim it to the world.
If he wanted war, he'd have it.
This Nicholas would crush your nose flat, one way or another.