Red Label Luck
“Hey, hey. Hold up. Twenty-four tickets, right?”
“I told you, it is. I counted three more times just to be sure.”
Yan shook the thick bundle of labels in his hand with a triumphant grin.
“This actually works, though? It’s not a scam?”
“What scam? Why would His Highness the Grand Duke scam anyone?” Yan smacked Kal on the back. “Let’s go, man! The line’s only gonna get longer if we’re late!”
The two men stepped out of Kal’s shabby house. A sharp autumn wind brushed their cheeks. Kal instinctively pulled his collar tighter.
The road to the square was far more crowded than usual. Voices from every direction carried a strange mix of excitement and anticipation.
“Oi, you two heading there too?” An old factory worker walking toward them spotted the bundle of labels in their hands and called out.
“Yeah, well. Nothing to lose, right?” Kal answered curtly.
“Heh, you young folks. Better to live steady than chase luck like that.” The old man spoke like he was giving a lecture, but the Mikhail bottle in his own hand made the advice completely unconvincing.
“Come on, come on.” Yan tugged Kal’s arm.
The square had already turned into a massive festival ground. A huge tent bearing the red ‘Mikhail’ logo stood at the center, and a long, serpentine line of people stretched in front of it. Couples with children, groups of chattering youths, men and women of all ages—everyone was there.
“Damn. There’s a shit ton of people.” A sigh slipped out of Kal before he could stop it.
“See? I told you we should’ve come earlier!” Yan grumbled as they took their place at the very end of the line.
The wait was tedious, but the noise around them kept it from feeling completely dull.
“Daddy! I want that! I want that one!” A small child tugged at his father’s pant leg, pointing at the prizes displayed in front of the tent. The shelves held everything from crude wooden coasters to crystal glasses that shimmered with light, and even liquor bottles with dazzling blue labels. All sorts of trinkets stirred people’s desires.
“Aigoo, that brat. What’s so special about a piece of wood?” The father grumbled, yet a fond smile lingered on his face.
Up ahead, a man’s triumphant shout rang out—he had apparently reached his turn.
“Whoa! Fourth place! It’s fourth place!”
Applause and envious cheers erupted around him. The man accepted his free bottle of liquor and turned away like a victorious general returning from war.
“See? What did I tell you? It works!” Yan elbowed Kal in the side. Kal swallowed dryly instead of answering.
Maybe…
Just maybe, it really did.
After what felt like an eternity, their turn finally arrived.
Inside the tent, it was surprisingly calm compared to the chaos outside. A young employee with a bored expression sat behind a table. Beside him rested a strangely shaped hexagonal wooden box.
So that’s the thing. Kal stared at the unfamiliar object with curiosity.
“Please hand over the labels.”
The employee spoke in a mechanical voice. Yan proudly thrust out the bundle. The employee took them and counted with practiced ease.
“Twenty-four. Correct?”
“Yes!”
“One draw per label. You may draw a total of twenty-four times. Who would like to spin first?”
“Me!”
“I’m going first.” Kal shoved Yan aside and stepped forward. Yan grumbled, but Kal paid him no mind. He grabbed the worn handle attached to the wooden box. Cold metal met his palm.
Please.
Kal took a deep breath and gave the handle several turns.
Click-click-click—
The box began to spin with a loud rattle. Then—
Clack.
With a light sound, a single marble rolled out from the small opening at the bottom. It was black.
“Fifth place.”
The employee’s voice was flat. He picked up a wooden coaster from the display and tossed it onto the table.
“Oh! Dude, you won on the first try!” Yan exclaimed.
“Is this just good luck or what?”
Maybe? Kal picked up the coaster with a dazed expression. The craftsmanship was excellent—solid wood with the Mikhail logo burned into it by a branding iron. Not a bad start.
“Next!”
But luck stopped there.
The second marble was white. A miss.
The third was also a miss. So were the fourth and fifth. Only white marbles kept rolling out.
“Ah, shit. What the hell.” Kal’s brows furrowed.
“It’s fine, it’s fine! This is normal!” Yan tried to cheer him on from the side, but even his voice was starting to sound anxious.
By the fourteenth attempt, nothing had changed. White. White. White.
“Move over. Let me try.” Yan pushed Kal aside and grabbed the handle. “Watch this, you unlucky bastard! I’ll hit the jackpot for you!”
Click-click-click, clack!
The marble that rolled out was red.
“!”
“Fourth place.”
For a moment, their eyes met.
“Whoa.”
“Holy shit!”
The two men grabbed each other’s shoulders and cheered without thinking. The employee placed a bottle of Mikhail Red Label on the table—the very same liquor they drank every day. But right now, it wasn’t just liquor. It was a gift from Lady Luck herself.
“What did I say! I told you I’d do it!” Yan shouted triumphantly.
“Yeah, yeah. Knock yourself out.” Kal grumbled, but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips.
Carried by the momentum, Yan confidently spun the handle again. Two misses. Then, on the eighteenth try—
Clack!
Another red marble rolled out.
“Waaaaah!”
This time the cheer was even louder. Another free bottle.
“This is insane! We’re having a drinking party tonight!” Yan looked ready to dance.
After that, only one more black marble appeared on the twenty-second draw. Everything else was a miss. But neither of them felt disappointed.
“Man, this is awesome.” Kal hugged the two bottles and two coasters to his chest, wearing a satisfied grin. This was a huge success.
“Let’s go. Drinks are on me tonight.” Yan slung an arm around Kal’s shoulder.
The two men, drunk on victory, headed back to Kal’s house. The lively noise of the square faded behind them.
“Kuh, nothing beats free booze.” Yan emptied his glass and smiled in pure satisfaction. Kal nodded instead of answering. He wasn’t wrong. Even though it was the same Red Label, it somehow tasted sweeter and smoother tonight.
“Hey, but the snacks are kinda lacking, don’t you think?” Yan smacked his lips and stared at the empty dried-meat plate.
“I’m in a great mood today! I’ll go buy more snacks!” He shot up from his seat.
“It’s fine, man. Your money’s my money anyway.”
“No, no. I should still pay for this. You’re the one who collected the labels and won the booze.” Yan was stubborn. “Wait here. I’ll be right back. Should I get more dried meat?”
“No.” Kal shook his head. Spicy liquor went well with salty dried meat or fish, but tonight he was craving something different.
“I feel like having something warm and soupy.”
***
Mikhail lounged on the sofa, flipping through the regular report Laura had sent. The numbers listed on the paper traced an exponential curve so steep it felt unreal. Sales. Net profit. Market share. All skyrocketing at a terrifying pace.
“This is it.”
He couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from rising. As expected, 21st-century capitalism performed flawlessly. Or rather, the marketing tactics born from that capitalist system were the real performers.
We haven’t even started yet.
He hadn’t introduced anything truly vicious like cube gacha or complete gacha. He’d only used classic methods—limited editions, freebie draws—and this was the result. The world might have advanced enough for transcontinental railways and mass factory production, but it was still an innocent place where the romance of knights and ladies lingered. Naturally, 21st-century marketing worked like a charm here.
“Good. Very good.”
Mikhail smiled in satisfaction and tossed the report aside. What should he do next? Just thinking about it made his lips curl upward.
First, I should crack the whip on those artist types.
Shower them with money and make them churn out comics and novels that matched his tastes.
And gather a bunch of chefs too.
Sampling delicacies from around the world had been one of life’s greatest pleasures even back in 21st-century Korea. He couldn’t leave that out. And occasionally dropping by the casino to gamble or watch people walk the tightrope between hope and despair like in Kaiji would be pretty entertaining as well.
Reincarnating as Mikhail had been the greatest stroke of luck imaginable. If he’d been born as some nameless farmer or laborer in this world… just the thought was horrifying. He probably would’ve thrown himself into a river or the sea without hesitation. This romance-fantasy world was that cruel and primitive to ordinary people.
But he was a prince. Reincarnated as a prince. A good-for-nothing, alcoholic, mad prince—but still an imperial prince. That was why this primitiveness actually felt comfortable and pleasant.
How leisurely.
He’d never worried about money to begin with, but now even his mind felt at ease. People’s goodwill usually came from that kind of leisure. A sudden good idea occurred to him.
Ding.
Mikhail lightly rang the bell on the side table. Moments later, familiar footsteps echoed down the hallway.
“You called, Your Highness.”
It was Boris. As always, he bowed with impeccable posture.
“Boris.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“All this time, the officials, the Valeriano Trading Company employees, and even you… everyone’s worked hard.”
“You flatter me. It is all thanks to Your Highness’s wise leadership.”
Boris answered mechanically.
“So, about that.” Mikhail grinned. “I should give out some bonuses.”
“…Pardon?”
A look Boris had never worn before appeared on his face—pure chaos and bewilderment, as if he’d heard an alien language.
“Bonuses. You know, extra pay. Special reward for doing a good job.” Mikhail explained kindly.
“N-no, what do you mean by bonuses!” Boris’s voice rose without him realizing it. His eyes widened in shock. “As subjects of the Empire, it is only natural to pledge our loyalty to Your Highness! How could we possibly—!”
“What, you don’t want it?” Mikhail asked playfully, his eyes narrowing with amusement. Boris’s reaction was exactly what he’d hoped for.
“N-no! That’s not what I meant! It’s just… far too great an honor, and also…” Boris waved his hands in a fluster. The usually composed and seasoned butler was nowhere to be seen. Whether it was because the sight was so amusing or because he was genuinely in a good mood, Mikhail felt oddly proud.