Without You, the Duke's Family Falls!
After learning that somewhat disconcerting fact—that if one of the illegitimate children I'd met before became the family head, the duke's family would collapse—I entered the room prepared for me in the Nebula Duke Family Estate, guided by Mist.
"Impressive."
Stepping inside with a cigar clenched in one hand, I was greeted by an old-world style room.
I doubted I'd ever sleep in a place like this in my lifetime; it was decked out like some royal's bedchamber.
Glancing casually at the chandelier looming dead center in the room, I turned to her—she'd been silently watching me ever since I walked in.
"There are cigars in the car, right? Bring those over."
I usually carried five on me as basics.
But I'd burned through nearly all of them in the fight with the duke.
Only the one in my hand remained—my last.
I wasn't planning any more scraps today, but still, having zero felt kinda empty.
At my request, she dipped her head slightly.
"Yes, understood."
"Ah, and one more thing."
I pointed at the bare table in the otherwise empty room.
"Drinks. I'm gonna mix some cocktails, so if you can, grab a variety. Payment here's good."
With that, I pulled a pretty hefty sum from my pocket and handed it over.
All money from commissions back in the underworld days, or from turning the tables on outfits that tried to off me.
No way they'd send a guy out empty-handed.
"...You can make cocktails too?"
"Eh, one of my few hobbies."
Just something that came naturally with collecting cigars.
I dropped into one of the room's chairs and waved her off.
"Tools for mixing are in the car too—grab 'em later at your leisure. Now go."
"Yes, understood."
Once she left the room, I coated my throat and lungs with mana, then sucked down the remaining half of my cigar in one deep pull.
The cigar blazed fast. When just the stub was left, I whipped out my portable ashtray and exhaled a massive cloud.
Huuuuh.
The smoke swiftly claimed the space around me. Starting low near the floor, it crept up the walls, filled the ceiling, and soon dominated the entire room.
"Hmm? Unexpected. Figured there'd be surveillance."
I set the stub in the ashtray and scanned the room's status through the dispersed smoke. Surprisingly airtight.
A perfect sealed chamber, not a single gap.
No secret passages, and no telltale mana from listening devices.
'Ah, one thing though.'
Closing my eyes and focusing, I sensed a single magic circle, hidden with exquisite subtlety.
Tucked behind the room's flashiest chandelier.
I carefully extended tendrils of smoke to probe it.
'Alarm magic?'
Alarm Magic Circle
Staring at it, the pattern was all too familiar—I froze for a second.
It matched the alarm trap I'd accidentally triggered back when I raided that wizard's workshop to kill the bastard trying to kill me.
'What can I say about these guys...'
They showed zero excessive interest in us bastards.
Just handing over a room with a single alarm etched in? Done?
The way they'd gathered us, and handled us after—it all felt sloppier than necessary.
"This can't be right?"
The perfectly reasonable doubt hit me, but I let it go just as quick.
These bastards had only been rounded up today, after all.
"The duke's condition looks worse than they let on, but..."
Critically ill, they'd said. But seeing him up close, it wasn't that bad.
Sure, to a normal person, he'd be a goner any day now.
But with that massive mana pool? Easily three years, minimum.
"..."
Thinking of the duke brought the fight right back to mind.
Once I clocked his hallucination ability, mana had gushed out like a waterfall.
He wielded hallucinations and materialized ones at will—a real monster.
Luckily, I knew his solid attacks got blocked by my defenses, so I endured a hallucinatory death to land that one strike.
End of fight.
"Didn't use constraint enhancement, though."
My power grows by revealing info—a trump card in itself.
Why skip it against the duke? Simple: he wasn't at full strength, and the fight was manageable without.
Those materialized attacks? Surprisingly weak offensively.
Defense solid enough to tank my hits, but offense inversely puny.
Still, I knew damn well it was reckless.
"...Even now, that was insane."
No matter how pissed I was, head spinning or not—that was reckless as hell.
If I hadn't died once already thanks to reincarnation,
Or if my pain threshold wasn't jacked from past-life torture resistance training,
I couldn't have pulled it off.
"Sigh, whatever."
I wasn't here to prove I was the strongest or anything. Just fulfilling the contract Mist offered.
No need to sweat the details.
Normally, I wouldn't give a damn if the bastards scrapped it out or the duke's house pulled weird shit.
That dust-up with the family head? Just me pissed they came at me.
I'd planned to lay low like a dead rat otherwise.
"..."
Leaning back in the chair, I habitually started sifting known info.
A hobby-slash-habit from my past life.
Flick.
The smoke danced to my hand, morphing into letters.
Crocus Academy
Next to those letters, another smoky phrase appeared.
Rofan?
The genre of this world's so-called "original novel."
Three possibilities came to mind.
Pure rofan worldview from the original.
Just an academy world.
Or a mashup of both.
"Third one."
Just a hunch, but Crocus Academy + rofan fused.
Never read the rofan original, but the academy game I'd played? Vague story beats stuck with me.
Too old a memory for details, though.
So for now, it was all deduction from what I knew.
Flick.
I waved my hand again, and the scattering smoke reformed into new words.
Underworld
What's an academy story? Constant raids, students fixing city-busting scandals like defense corruption scandals.
Game name slipped my mind, but the plot outline? Burned in.
"Early on, definitely..."
Started with some drug crisis, I recalled.
Another wave, adding keywords to the smoke.
Underworld + Drugs
Alright, question time.
The underworld—illegals handled by the Nebla family, right?
Mist spilled that on the way here, so probably solid intel.
Why would underworld groups they control hit the academy?
Real talk: ignore the continent's top academy, Crocus Academy? The Neblas?
Nah. Considering the underworld pull I saw in the capital, no shot.
But in the story I remembered, the academy got steamrolled helplessly by those thugs.
Throw in one premise, and it clicks with real logic.
What if the Neblas never fully locked down the underworld?
Then loose underworld crews target the academy?
Sure, some shadowy puppetmaster pulled strings, but core plot was that.
"...What kinda causality is this..."
Thread got there, and suddenly this whole mess traced back to the duke's house.
If he'd picked a normal heir, none of this happens, right?
But I shook my head quick.
"Nah. What do you expect from a psycho?"
Guy tests heirs by straight-up killing them with hallucinations on sight.
No "normal" or "rational" applies here.
That was my read on the duke. Rational choice from him? Yeah, no.
"..."
My head started getting cluttered from all angles.
What to call it? Felt like fate yelling, "You, or the duke's house crumbles!"
Under Abel's orders, Mist moved with brisk efficiency.
Drove the car to a nearby city, stocked up on cocktail ingredients and simple snacks.
Back at the estate, arms loaded with bottles for mixing and boxes of cigars, she pressed on.
Weight that'd have most women—or even guys—grunting, but she didn't bat an eye.
Why would she? Top elite in the duke's assassin squad.
Arriving at Abel's room, she carefully stacked her haul outside the door, checked her disheveled outfit, then knocked politely.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Master Abel, I've brought the items you requested."
...
"Master Abel?"
No response. She rapped the door two or three more times.
"Master Abel, if there's no answer, I'll assume you're in danger and enter."
Still nothing. Without hesitation, she hiked up the hem of her maid dress.
Swish.
Legs like flawless porcelain emerged, skirt rising to reveal her thigh.
Shing.
With fluid grace, she drew the dagger hidden in her garter belt, unlocked the door silently, and slipped inside.
"..."
What she saw: Abel slumped in the chair, staring blankly, overwhelmed by too much info.
Like an office drone unsure where to start amid chaos.
"Alright, decided."
"Master Abel?"
"Screw it, too annoying. Ignoring it all."