035. Wa…… Fuck. The Scale is Different.
Wa…… fuck. The scale was on another level. Was this the dignity of a capitalist big sis? While Iris Professor was bragging about handing over a single lab, this lady just casually drops an entire mansion. My brain felt like it was melting in real time. I wanted to ditch school and everything else right then and there and bolt straight to it.
Most of all. 'Even if Dad marks me for death, I've got a place to run to now!' A breathing hole. Emergency escape route secured!
"If you wish, we'll handle the mansion's management free of charge during your time studying at the academy. Gardeners, caretakers—the works."
"Good lord."
"Of course, if you visit during breaks or holidays in that period, we'll prepare everything."
I couldn't help but grin ear to ear. The rage and injustice I'd felt moments ago had vanished. I'd killed it off inside me. Capitalist therapy was terrifyingly effective.
"Professor……."
I nearly blurted out, I love you.
"Oh? A confession? To a married woman?"
What the—?
"You read minds too?"
"No. Kasian just wears his emotions so honestly on his face."
Damn. Had to cover quick.
"S-Self…… no, it's love for the almighty power of gold. Don't misunderstand."
Almost said capitalist love. Would've gotten my head chopped for treason.
"Hahaha! I like your honesty!"
That's when Muller noona let out her signature hearty laugh. From far off, carried on the wind, came a familiar giggle.
"……Pfft, ahaha."
A clear, bright laugh. '……What?' Sounded familiar. Who was it?
'People keep calling me a homewrecker lately—am I hallucinating?'
But my eyes couldn't tear away from the deed. Whatever. Didn't care. I had the 'Southern Mansion' right in my hands.
As I buried my nose in the papers, sniffing like a dog, Muller Viscountess pulled out a second item from under the table.
"Now, this."
Click.
A small wooden box the size of her palm. Antique patterns carved in—clearly expensive at a glance.
"No, this is enough. I'm already stuffed. Any more and I'll go bald. My conscience won't allow it."
I waved her off. The deed was already too much—what else?
Was she gonna pierce my nose and lead me around for real?
But Muller Viscountess slid the box toward me.
"You'll regret it if you don't."
"……."
My ears perked up. Regret? My least favorite word.
"……What's that?"
"Hear me out first. This isn't an unconditional gift—it's a sort of 'business proposal.'"
"Proposal?"
"I want to borrow a bit of your talent."
A deal proposed by someone rich enough to just hand over a mansion deed. This had to be at least a whole building's worth.
I swallowed hard.
"W-Well…… I'll at least hear the explanation. Gotta, right?"
"Then open the lid."
"Yessir."
Click.
Cautiously lifting the lid revealed a single gold coin nestled on red velvet cushioning. It gleamed impressively, but……
'Huh? Just this?'
One lousy coin. After the massive nuke of a mansion deed, this looked like cute pocket change. Disappointment rising, I went to close it—then spotted the intricate design on the surface. A stack of ten gold bars. Below it, a unique serial number and the imperial seal.
As I fiddled with the coin in confusion, Muller Viscountess set down her teacup and asked,
"You don't know what that is?"
"No clue. Some commemorative coin? What's it mean?"
"Note that this one's gold-plated, not solid. It's currency, after all."
Plated? Fake, then? I was still puzzled. This world was designed reader-friendly for Koreans like me—paper bills dominated commerce, units borrowed from won as "imperial hwan." Gold and silver coins were ancient relics for museums.
But plated currency?
Muller Viscountess propped her chin and asked,
"How many gold bars in the picture?"
"Ten."
"Right."
She grinned mischievously, dropping a hint.
"Worth way more than that villa I gave you. Take it to a bank, and the branch manager will roll out the red carpet."
A wild guess flashed through my mind.
"No way…… you mean what I think?"
"Bingo. Bring that coin to the imperial vault, and they'll swap it—no questions asked—for ten real gold bars. Imperial-guaranteed payment voucher."
"……!"
Whoa. Fuck. It was real.
The coin in my hand suddenly felt heavy. This was the legendary high-denomination check equivalent.
My hands started shaking.
I swallowed hard. Pride? Who gave a shit right now.
"I know I'll look like total trash for asking…… but how many kilos per gold bar?"
"Ask away. Want it in imperial hwan?"
Classic savvy, no-BS Muller Viscountess. Her finger tapped the table lightly.
Tap, tap.
The casual rhythm belied a heavy answer.
"Imperial-standard bars are 12.5kg each."
12.5 kilos. 'Insane— heavier than a pack of 2L water bottles?' And that was gold? Ten of them?!
"Current market value? About 3 billion imperial hwan per bar."
"……3 billion?"
Imperial hwan tracked one-to-one with Korean won. For reference, the coffee in front of me was 12,000 hwan—Seoul hot spot single-origin hand-drip price with a ripoff markup. Yeah, spot on.
3 billion times ten.
"30 billion……."
Whoa, fuck. Goosebumps for days. My jaw wouldn't shut.
30 billion. You'd need twenty straight lotto jackpots to touch that.
Muller Viscountess smirked at my slack-jawed face.
"Peanuts compared to the Palace Count's wealth, but that's why I like you. Buyable with money."
"……."
"An heir couldn't be bought with this. They don't own the family assets outright either, but they end up thinking it's theirs anyway."
Spot on. Hit like a truck. Family wealth was under the family name—corporate capital. Even the patriarch couldn't treat it as personal pocket money.
What that meant? Not a single 10-hwan bill coming my way.
Fate of a disowned noble son.
Dad's personal stash? Our old man wasn't cosplaying integrity—he was a genuine cheapskate with next to none. Raid his private vault top to bottom? Maybe this one coin's worth—30 billion hwan, tops.
Though Dad was oddly progressive for the era. Other families dumped everything on the heir; he'd probably leave me 30-40% of his personal stash.
30%? 9 billion hwan. 40%? 12 billion.
But 30 or 40, either way…… I was staring at roughly three times the inheritance I'd wait a lifetime for—in cash.
How long would Dad live? Hmm. At least forty more years.
That meant kissing ass, playing nice…… maybe inherit at sixty if lucky.
But this—three times that. Not even two—three. Ah, hands shaking.
"You're smart, so you get it. Compared to slaving for the family till death, stressing over decorum as recompense for control over 3 trillion in family assets."
Muller Viscountess drove it home.
"30 billion in personal cash you can blow freely, no eyes on you till you drop. Not lesser value."
"……."
Understatement. For a lazy fuck like me dreaming FIRE life? 30 billion was way bigger!
Fuck, yeah. Obviously.
Power? Honor? Fuck 'em. Look at Dad. Top empire power player, yet aging out buried in work.
Probably studied all day in that pose pre-me, work and ledgers after, head-banging for the emperor.
And? More work ahead. Till when? 'Coffin, probably.'
If I'd been born noble, used to it, maybe I'd have that drive. Problem: second-life cheat.
Achievement lust thrives on climbing. Dirt spoon to silver, silver to gold. Normal dream: chaebol heir—but I hacked rebirth for day-one.
Why work? Gonna chill, fuck it.
One coin: lifetime leisure. Farm and fish at the southern mansion, sell a 3-billion bar when bored, live lavish.
"……."
I gripped the coin tight. Its hard texture against my palm—pure love.
"Now you're definitely interested in the condition for accepting it?"
Muller Viscountess asked leisurely.
I deeply regretted my earlier cocky "I'll hear it out." No manners before 30 billion? Sin. Blasphemy.
I untwisted my legs primly, clasped hands under the table, bowed politely.
"Please, speak. Moneybags—er, Guildmaster."
"Ahahahaha!"
Muller Viscountess beamed like that's the stuff. Her booming laugh echoed across the terrace.
"Condition's simple."
"What is it?"
Anything but hit contract. I'm in.
"Till academy graduation. Take responsibility for Lily."
"……Pardon?"
……Fuck me.
Swore aloud almost. 30 billion blinded me—I forgot why I was tangled with this woman: the pink-headed saintess, bottom-rung beef-jerky raid squad.
Then another realization hit.
"So you shoved her into my lab first as part of the plan?"
"Quick on the uptake—love it."
Meaning……
"Refuse if you want. She'll leave the lab. But."
Muller Viscountess grinned delightedly.
"Accept, and till graduation, Lily gets a second guardian besides me."
Ex-peasant me, guardian to pink-headed saintess?
Iris noona's Thursday line flashed: 'Tried to block it…… but the offer was impossible to refuse.'
After a 30-billion wad to the face? Yeah.
'Impossible for real.'
Crown Prince scary. 30 billion lovely.
'Fuck, going insane.'
Thought nothing trumped life. But if money fails, you're just broke.
Suddenly realized I was weighing my own neck on the scale.
Flinch!
The married woman before my eyes looked utterly dangerous. Shit. Fox spirit. Definitely a sly vixen.