Chapter 87
Chapter 87
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: Snatching What Others Covet (2)
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"Judging people isn't easy even at my age. Especially someone who carries poison on their tongue."
I kept my smile as I faced him, the one claiming my tongue held poison.
"But I'll admit this one thing."
Because I'd read the deep intrigue lingering at the corners of his eyes.
"That I quite like you."
Mikel smiled faintly and raised his glass.
"I've attended this conference many times, but I don't think I've ever enjoyed it as much as today. It's all thanks to you."
"Is that so?"
"Indeed. But I don't join hands just because something intrigues me. At the very least, we need to be able to watch each other's backs, don't you think?"
It wasn't full trust, but a willingness to believe to some extent. It was also a subtle probe into whether cooperation with him was feasible.
Of course, a man of his stature wouldn't easily assume I was on his side.
'I'll need to put in a bit more effort.'
By tomorrow, Mikel would fully trust me. Because he'd get what he wanted.
"I see."
I let my shoulders droop slightly, as if disappointed.
"Then I'll make my request later."
"Request?"
Mikel stared at me with a surprised expression. His lips had stiffened slightly, as if he hadn't expected me to reveal my true intentions so soon.
"What, are we already at the point of exchanging favors? Isn't it a bit early for that?"
At his sharp reaction, I waved my hand dismissively.
"Oh, no, nothing like that."
I shook my empty whiskey glass as I spoke.
"It's a very minor request. Very minor. No political intentions whatsoever."
"Hmm."
"You could probably grant it quite readily, Lord Mikel."
Only then did Mikel relax his lips and ask.
"What kind of request?"
"I'll tell you after tomorrow."
"Hmm."
"By then, you'll probably be willing to grant it."
Mikel eyed me carefully before nodding.
"Very well. Now I'm quite curious what it could be."
His reaction had softened compared to before. But the curiosity in his eyes had grown stronger.
'His face says, "Why the suspense?"'
That's how human psychology works. Lay the groundwork like this, and by tomorrow, he'll be itching to hear it and urge me to spill.
"The bottle's empty already. Let's drink some more."
Mikel drained his glass and gestured to the attendant again. By the time the attendant had come and gone two or three times, the surrounding lords were starting to drop off one by one.
"Heh, you drink quite a bit."
"You're one to talk, Lord Mikel."
This was no longer drinking. It was a merciless duel, glasses clashing in place of swords.
"......Hoo."
"Oof......"
"I can't watch anymore."
The watching lords clicked their tongues. Mikel and I had already polished off more than four bottles of whiskey.
Even the attendant bringing the drinks now looked queasy.
"Young Lord Abel, you're something else. I'm liking you more and more."
Mikel's words slurred slightly. His face was flushed from the alcohol.
"That's music to my ears."
Of course, my face showed no change whatsoever.
All the whiskey I poured into my stomach was sliding straight into Requiem. There was no room for intoxication.
The champagne I'd drunk before had tasted like fine water. This whiskey now tasted just like......
'A tasty beverage?'
Exactly.
A bit bitter, with a spicy aroma that scorched my stomach before vanishing without a trace.
"This, well. The Coldezte folk should count themselves lucky you didn't participate."
Mikel burst into a hearty laugh and grabbed the next bottle. He poured into our two empty glasses.
"If you'd joined, the win that year would've been yours for the taking."
"Probably so."
"And you're the first to drink with me this long."
His face was a bit red, but Mikel's eyes were clear as ever.
I took the glass he offered and replied.
"An honor."
As our heated duel continued, Mikel glanced behind me and chuckled.
"Guess it's time for this old man to step aside."
"Hmm."
I brought the glass he'd handed me to my lips.
'No need to go.'
I already knew who he was talking to. I'd sensed the presences approaching from behind.
"Young Lord Abel."
A familiar voice called from behind.
'I wondered when you'd show up.'
I swallowed the whiskey and turned slowly. A sharp smile curled my lips.
"Young Lord Cain."
Leading three young men stood Cain Ardante.
"Youngsters gathering means the old man should make way."
Mikel gave a good-natured smile and stepped back.
"Why say such disappointing things?"
Cain bowed to Mikel. His posture was textbook perfect.
"Your time is a precious treasure all young men covet, Lord Mikel. Please stay a bit longer."
"Heh, spare the empty words. You're at the age to enjoy time with your peers."
Mikel delivered a perfectly polite refusal worthy of an etiquette manual and withdrew.
"Have a good time."
Then he was gone before anyone could stop him.
Regret tinged Cain's gaze as he watched Mikel's back.
'Cain admires his swordsmanship, according to the setting.'
No, was there any young man in the empire who didn't admire Mikel Nod Conchellare or Diego Ovest Kindriel?
Especially those on the path of the sword.
'Forget it. Pipe dream.'
Mikel would never give his place to Cain, Carlo's son. Having read the original, I was certain of that.
"What is it?"
At my question, Cain exchanged glances with the young men. Then he looked at me and spoke.
"We're acquainted, so skip that. Introductions first."
At Cain's cue, a young man standing right beside him stepped forward. He had warm golden hair and green eyes.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Bennett Seymour, eldest son of the Seymour family."
His bright, lively voice matched his sunny smile. He'd score high on first impressions.
The young man next to him, with ash-gray hair and blue eyes, stepped forward.
"I'm Carlisle Failden, likewise the eldest son of the Failden family."
His intellectual eyes framed stubborn lips pressed tight.
His delicate, bard-like yet knight-sharp features were handsome enough to stir women's hearts.
Of course, I felt nothing. Just a brief thought: *It's flowing just as in the original.*
'Finally, they appear.'
I already knew their names and identities, and had foreseen their arrival.
So as soon as the two finished introducing themselves, I tilted my head crookedly.
"No real need for introductions."
Bennett and Carlisle. The original's Cain trio.
Their friendship with Cain, forged since childhood, was ironclad. They each claimed to be his right and left arms.
"......What?"
But my words seemed to land differently for them. Anger flickered on Bennett's face.
"We introduce ourselves first, and that's all you have to say?"
Bennett snapped, but
"Enough, Bennett."
Cain stopped him. Bennett huffed and turned his sulky face away.
"Fine, I'll hold back."
Carlisle showed his displeasure more quietly.
"......"
By glaring with cold blue eyes. A sign my attitude irked him.
Whatever they did, I shrugged indifferently.
"So, what's the point? You called me over—speak."
I could guess their business, actually.
'Giovene Club, was it?'
A club Cain founded, with those two as executives. Only eldest sons of top imperial families could join.
They met regularly to share prime information. The quality was high, and so were the attendees.
'The club head is Cain Ardante.'
That alone made its wealth unmatched.
Plus, Bennett's Seymour family preserved pure bloodlines with deep roots in the capital.
Not to mention Carlisle, academy top graduate, from a Failden family that had long held imperial core positions.
So it was natural this was the capital's most注目, highest-caliber club.
'Joining procedures are strict, though.'
Cain vetted family power and value meticulously before inviting. Still, people clamored to join.
In the original, Abel never got the offer.
But.
'Things seem different this time.'
I waited leisurely for Cain's response.
"......"
Conflict briefly crossed Cain's eyes. Doubting if this was right.
It passed quickly.
"Abel Kindriel."
Cain composed himself and spoke calmly.
"I have a proposal."
His slow, settling voice carried a weight hard to believe from a man just into his twenties.
He was sharp, no doubt.
Unlike his two companions openly showing disdain, Cain's face was serene. As if he'd adjusted to my attitude.
Indeed, he had the ability to lead rationally without emotion—fitting for a club head.
'That's why he's the protagonist.'
Hiding my twisted jealousy, I tilted my head.
"What proposal?"
"There's a club I lead as president. It's called the Giovene Club."
"You've heard of it?"
Bennett jumped in from beside Cain.
True to the original, the type who stuck to the protagonist, chattering away.
"Honestly, not knowing our club in the capital Impero marks you as a spy."
"I haven't?"
I casually scratched my ear.
"First time hearing it."
"What?!"
Bennett flared his nostrils in disbelief. Carlisle interjected from beside him.
"Enough, Bennett. He just arrived in the capital—he wouldn't know."
Pretending gentlemanly, but Carlisle was the type to jab insults while pretending to rein Bennett in.
"Anyway, our Giovene Club holds regular meetings for positive exchanges."
Cain began earnestly.
"So, I was thinking of inviting Young Lord Abel to join our club."
"To the Giovene Club?"
"Yes. Joining would bring you quite a few benefits."
Confidence in the club shone on Cain's face as he continued.
"Valuable things hard to get anywhere else—I guarantee it."
"I wasn't in favor of recruiting you, Young Lord Abel."
Carlisle scanned me with evident distaste.
"You're aware your reputation isn't great, right?"