I'm Not That Kind of Person (1)
The Alcarte Duchy held no small weight in the original story.
A family that ruled the underworld where all manner of things—legal and illegal—changed hands. A true power broker capable of shaking even the empire’s economy. Of course the original work had no choice but to give them heavy focus.
He was the final boss of Act 3, right? Probably.
One of the most popular bosses, packing both cool factor and sheer difficulty. The power behind the underworld—
the Drug King, Cabaro Alcarte.
That was his epithet and his name.
Flutter!
Cabaro’s cloak billowed as he rode the black horse that pulled the carriage. Golden embroidery was stitched across the crimson fabric—a symbol of the dignity he carried by sheer presence alone. Hair as black as the steed beneath him, and the same cold golden eyes he had passed down to Evan. No matter how shabby his attire, the innate nobility and grace could never be erased.
A born ruler. Destined from birth to command and govern others, and fully aware of that destiny, he wielded it without hesitation.
Neighhh!
The black horse let out a powerful cry and began to slow; the carriage gradually lost speed as well.
The mansion’s main gate. The Duchess was already waiting to greet him—the formal wife who had borne the current Leonardo and Theodore.
Her expression is completely stiff.
Evan had never seen her look like that before. He rested his chin on his hand by the window.
Natalya Alcarte. An Upper Expert who had reached the peak with nothing but a rapier. Her features recalled a black panther, and her body was so finely honed it was hard to believe she had borne two children. Even a woman like that was tense at the Duke’s return.
Neighhh!
Thud.
The black horse halted right in front of the Duchess. A bundle rested on the saddle, the cloth soaked red.
Don’t tell me…
Thump! Roll-roll-roll.
The Duke tossed the bundle down. What tumbled out was an enemy’s severed head, the face still frozen in shock.
Clack, clack!
The moment the black horse stopped, the knights following behind halted as one. Their movements were drilled to perfection—not a single error as they dropped to one knee and planted their swords.
Thud! Thud-thud!
The knights who had come out from the ducal mansion did the same. At the front, Feroc—true to his title as First Knight Order Commander—spoke first.
“We sincerely congratulate our lord, His Grace the Duke, on his safe return.”
“Congratulations!”
“Mm.”
Cheers and loyalty so thick it was almost oppressive. The Duke merely gave a light nod, as if long accustomed to it.
“You have all worked hard. Rise.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Yes, sir!”
Clack! Clack!
The knights realigned in an instant. The Duke vaulted lightly down from the black horse. When his eyes found the Duchess waiting for him, his expression softened by the barest fraction. It was a smile.
Really doesn’t suit him.
“My lady. It has been some time.”
“I am glad you returned unharmed, Your Grace.”
As naturally as an escort, the Duke offered his hand and the Duchess took it. A couple so perfectly matched it was almost sickening.
I heard he got along just as well with Evan’s mother.
The Duke was the rare case who had married for genuine love rather than politics. In the cutthroat world of nobility, that was almost unheard of. A love marriage! He really was the ultimate alpha male, the complete man’s man. Even with the terrifying title of Drug King who ruled the underworld, he walked around looking perfectly fine.
“What is that head?”
“The second-in-command’s.”
The Duke’s voice was flat.
“He was aiming for my seat.”
“Well done.”
“It is still my own lack of virtue. I failed to properly win over even one of my subordinates. I must strive harder.”
“You are magnificent.”
Even the self-critique was clean. There was no further sign of self-reproach. It felt exactly like checking answers against a solution key. Could a person really be this dry?
“The children?”
“They are all in their rooms.”
“We will dine together this evening.”
Outwardly he might look like a blunt but caring father, yet Evan knew better. Or rather, this body did.
—Be quiet, Evan Alcarte.
Evan had been clutching his mother’s cold body and wailing. Standing behind him without showing his face, the Duke had spoken in a voice like ice.
—Conduct yourself with the dignity befitting a second son.
Hmm.
After that, Evan had grown distant from his father. Abandoned was the more accurate word. Evan preferred to call it independence—not abandonment, but independence from his father. That had not led to any spiritual “maturity.” The ordinary wastrel Evan had begun dreaming of the taboo known as Dead Resurrection.
I have no intention of doing it now, though.
Dead Resurrection, the ultimate taboo among taboos. The price it demanded was on an entirely different level from gold transmutation. Naturally, a coward—no, a safety-first man like Evan—would never even glance at that option. It wasn’t as if his real parents had died.
Dinner, huh… I’ll pretend to be asleep.
He was just about to pull his head back inside when—
“Evan Alcarte.”
A chilly voice stabbed into his ear. Creak. He forced his stiff neck to turn. Right at the window. The Duke was staring straight into Evan’s eyes. Those cold golden irises flashed.
“Do not be late for dinner. Attend.”
“……Yes.”
Damn it, I don’t want to.
Regardless, the answer slipped out of his mouth. It wasn’t fear. It was purely the instinct left in this body. He was absolutely not scared.
“Understood.”
Whoosh.
Having heard the reply, the Duke turned and vanished without a backward glance. The front of the mansion fell silent in an instant. Evan let out a thin sigh and collapsed into the chair.
Ugh, damn! That startled me.
Why is he talking to me all of a sudden when he never does?
There had only been two times before. Once right after Evan possessed the body, when he was groaning in pain. The other when the Duke had forcibly shoved him into the underworld.
This makes three.
He really did not want to meet him. Evan shuddered. Yet an unavoidable fate was already approaching……
The dinner table.
In an ordinary household one might picture lively chatter. Here it was different. Bleak and quiet. Clink, clink. The sound of dishes being set down and cleared. No one even made noise while eating. That was proper etiquette. The only person allowed to speak first was the head of the house, the master of this table.
If Lapis were here she would’ve suffocated to death.
Lately her attention seemed fixed on playing with Super, so even the vegetables she usually loved were being eaten a little less. Where she once polished off two baskets, these days it was more like one and a half. She had been noisy, but it had been fun.
While eating, he briefly yearned for a past that wasn’t really the past.
Clack—
The Duke set down his utensils, finished the meal, and dabbed his mouth with a handkerchief in a gesture of perfect elegance. Without a single flaw showing, he fixed his gaze on Evan.
“Evan.”
“……Yes, Your Grace.”
His body went rigid. He felt like a herbivore standing before a carnivore. At least his face was frozen solid—that was a relief. Seeing a more mature version of the face he saw in the mirror every day standing right there was a little awkward, though.
“Rumors have been circulating quite a bit lately.”
“I was unlucky.”
“Not ‘lucky,’ but ‘unlucky.’ Does that mean your notoriety is still insufficient?”
Excuse me?
“The Bluebeard Count was never a vessel large enough to satisfy you. Strive harder.”
Excuse me??
“However, the Saintess and the Holy Knight—those two match your caliber. Excellent.”
Excuse me???
“I hear you invited a beggar this time. Did you obtain something worthwhile?”
“……It was not a bad connection.”
“Not bad, is it.”
Did he figure out it was the Dark King?
“A beggar is certainly lowly, yet what matters is discovering what brilliant days he once lived. It seems there was something only you could read.”
Leo shot him a murderous look that said, So that’s what it was?
Well…… he wasn’t wrong. It had just been pure coincidence. He had never intended any of it. Saying “no” would be embarrassing, though. Incitement only needs one line; an explanation requires several times more words.
“……Yes.”
So he simply nodded.
“It seems you are still not satisfied.”
Apparently that reaction had been interpreted strangely. Evan doubted his ears at the Duke’s nonsense.
……Excuse me? What exactly is lacking?
This notoriety right now?
If this still wasn’t enough, wasn’t that just pure psychopath territory?
“I am satisfied.”
“There is no need to pretend otherwise. Moderate humility can be beneficial, but excessive humility only makes you weak.”
The Duke freely reinterpreted Evan’s meaning.
“Always take care not to overdo it.”
“……Yes.”
Leo and Theodore glared at Evan with burning eyes. They clearly resented him monopolizing the Duke’s attention at the dinner table.
If you’re jealous, you do it. You do it. I don’t need it.
While Evan was cursing them inwardly—
Slightly.
Very faintly, a smile touched the corner of the Duke’s mouth and vanished in an instant. So brief he wondered if he had imagined it.
Nah, must be my imagination.
Even when Evan met a pathetic death in the game, this man had only ever given the textbook response. A smile? Yeah, right.
“I shall personally assign you your next task. An opportunity to spread your renown.”
“I’m fi—”
“Attend the ball, Evan.”
No. Listen to me for once.
“This time you will attend as the representative of the family.”
Blaze!
The two brothers’ gazes grew even more intense.
Ah, I don’t want to!
But a true man’s man never runs. Run now? That would make him a complete coward. Evan forced out a single sentence.
“……I will… consider it.”
The stares that said What kind of lunatic is this? only intensified.
And so the evening passed. Deep into the night, a single letter arrived. Its destination was the Full Moon Church. A letter from Arthur.
I have decided to infiltrate high society undercover in order to root out the heretics this time.
Would it be possible to receive the potion then?
— Arthur
……It seemed he now had a reason to attend high society after all.
One day before the letter reached Evan.
Full Moon Church.
A silver bird with a red ribbon tied to its leg flew in, clutching a scroll.
Flutter!
“Mm.”
The scroll was not a letter but a kind of newspaper that delivered continental sentiment and news. Adrianna, who had stopped by the Full Moon Church for a short while today, cast an intrigued look from behind him.
“Mm.”
Arthur swallowed a low hum.
“What is it…… mm.”
Adrianna also swallowed a hum. The scroll contained content of considerable impact.
Heretic group annihilated.
All members currently missing.
Presumed to have been wiped out by “Evan Alcarte.”
“……Mmm.”
Drip, drip.
The hum stretched longer and cold sweat beaded lightly. He had annihilated the remaining heretic remnants? This suddenly? Had he truly been angry?
“Is he telling us to handle matters more cleanly?”
“Haa. That’s not it.”
“Then what?”
While Arthur was still gauging the intent, Adrianna—true to her nature as an outstanding strategist and mastermind—discerned it at once.
“This means the production was insufficient.”
“Production?”
“He went to the trouble of restoring your Aura Hole, yet information about himself never spread, did it?”
“……I see. He was dissatisfied that his own notoriety had not become known.”
“Exactly.”
Evan Alcarte. This was the method of a true mastermind who toyed even with the Saintess of the Sun and the Knight of the Full Moon. To think he would issue a warning in this fashion.
I heard he even met that cunning old man, the Dark King.
How had he come to meet that old man? Coincidence? No. This was destiny. Intentionally arranged.
To think he would set the board like this.
And all the while he had never stopped improving his own strength. He would not have sought out an alchemist who had lived for over a hundred years for no reason. He must have gone to obtain something.
So this is how he intends to play with us?
She had no intention of being played. A monkey placed upon the Buddha’s palm. She had not lived this long only to end up in such a position. She would absolutely discern his intent and reverse it, placing Evan upon her own palm instead. And through that, achieve the descent of the Sun. That was the Saintess’s goal.
“Arthur. How is your younger sister these days?”
“She is still holding on.”
Arthur’s younger sister, Lyla. The Full Moon Church’s sole shaman, who suffered from Divine Illness every day because of the destiny and vessel she had been born with.
“Who knows? He might possess a potion that can cure your sister.”
“……Can you take responsibility for those words?”
Arthur’s gaze turned icy in an instant. Adrianna merely smiled with leisurely ease.
“That is something we can confirm. I have obtained a rather useful piece of information.”
Adrianna drew an invitation from her robes. An invitation to high society that only nobles or important figures could attend.
“I hear Evan Alcarte will be making his debut in high society this time.”
That would be the opportunity. A chance to approach him directly and extract information—or his true intent.
I’m looking forward to it.
Just what kind of wicked scheme was he plotting?
“This is your chance to meet him in person.”
A deep smile curved Adrianna’s lips, completely unaware that Evan was simply thinking, Let’s just get this after-sales service over with quickly.