Chapter 62
Chapter 62
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 62
Chapter Title: Waiting for an Opportunity
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“A bit busier than usual at the mansion today, huh? Something going on?”
The woodcutter who had come to sell firewood glanced around curiously as he asked. The advisor’s subordinate, in the middle of counting out the payment, flicked his eyes up to look at him.
“Nah. Same as always.”
“Is that so? Haha….”
A lie. The woodcutter scratched his nose with an awkward laugh. Ever since the former count had died, the number of servants had plummeted, leaving the mansion perpetually quiet. Even after the advisor and his entourage arrived, there hadn’t been a single night when all the lights were on.
But today was different.
“This one’s a bit damp?”
“Got wet from the morning dew. Stuff like this dries right up once the sun’s out.”
“That’ll be three silver coins.”
“Thank you.”
The subordinate jotted something down like he was writing a receipt, then pulled three silver coins from his pocket and handed them over. As the woodcutter bowed and turned to leave…
“Hold on.”
“Yes?”
“Got some time? We’re tending the garden right now, and there’s this big tree smack in the middle. If it’s old, we’ll leave it be. If not, we’re chopping it down.”
“Ah, sure thing. Leave it to me!”
“Come on.”
At the subordinate’s words, the woodcutter patted his pocket. He’d been planning to head straight down for a drink, but oh well. Might even get extra for the trouble.
‘So that’s why the mansion’s so hectic.’
Sure enough. Servants who were rarely seen were scurrying about everywhere.
The woodcutter followed the subordinate around the side of the mansion. The ground shifted from weeds to grass. He’d lived in Bratz his whole life, but this was his first time crossing that boundary.
“This way.”
‘Gasp!’
The woodcutter sucked in a breath the moment he turned the corner and saw the garden. His expectations of flowers, shrubs, and trees beautifully arranged shattered in an instant.
Rows upon rows of grass planted like a farm.
The woodcutter, who’d made a killing during the gula recruitment, recognized it immediately.
‘…They’re growing gula? Even built a greenhouse for it.’
It was true. The rumors floating around town were real. The subordinate tapped his shoulder with a piece of paper.
“What’re you standing around for?”
“Ah. S-sorry. What kind of tree is it?”
“This one.”
Even as the woodcutter answered the subordinate’s question in detail, his attention was stolen by the gula field in the back. Meanwhile, Ian, looking down from a window in the corridor, asked…
“How many so far?”
“Five merchants bringing in foodstuffs, this is the second woodcutter, the tailor shop, and over there… where was it? Anyway, easily ten or more have seen it.”
“Food supplies?”
“Cut ’em in half, like you said.”
“Good work.”
The supply method Ian had mentioned at lunch consisted of two parts.
Using rumors.
And setting up lax security.
The key was to stimulate human greed for something precious. With even the distributed supplies reduced, the longing for gula would only grow thicker.
“So now we just need to set up some ragtag watch?”
“No. Have Romandro’s subordinates stand guard overnight. Fully armed.”
It was a slight deviation from what he’d said before. Berik, who’d been looking down at the garden, turned his head to stare, but Ian just smiled, sensing the gaze.
“You could use that in other territories or the capital. But this is still an empty territory without an official lord. If theft and pillaging run rampant, it ties straight to public safety and drastically lowers their quality of life. That’s the same as lowering the territory’s quality.”
Once is hard, twice is easy.
Especially if the mansion gets hit, they’ll start thinking theft is a breeze and hit their neighbors’ houses too.
“So what then? Just let ’em gawk for real?”
“Berik. Worry about yourself. You’ll have to get up at dawn for a while.”
“Huh? Me? Why me?”
Ian just smiled and shut his mouth at Berik’s question. Then he tapped the window twice and headed back to the office.
* * *
“This the right way?”
“I said it is!”
“Keep your voice down. Guards’ll hear!”
Two men crept toward the mansion under cover of predawn darkness.
With supplies cut and food running out, rumors swirled that the mansion was a gula paradise. No choice—they had to sneak in under the cover of night to survive.
“Ugh.”
“Damn, it’s heavy.”
“Lift it quicker.”
The thieves barely hauled themselves over the tall mansion wall. Word was the gula field was in the outer garden, not inside the building. Snag a few of those valuables and haul them to the capital, and they could shake off this endless poverty.
“H-here?”
The thieves peeked around the garden. Pitch black everywhere, but the ground was definitely packed with something planted. Dreaming of a rosy future, they began carefully harvesting.
“World’s blind—these are gold mines, and they hand ’em over to the mansion. Tsk tsk.”
“Shut up and dig.”
“Shoulda brought another sack.”
As the thieves whispered and snickered while pulling up gula, Romandro’s subordinates sighed and watched. They’d just caught one, tossed him in the basement cell, and come back to find more?
“Hey—!”
“Eek!”
“Gaaah!”
The subordinate lit his cigarette and shouted, sending the thieves tumbling in panic. They flung gula into the air and bolted across the garden.
“Where you going? You’ll wake everyone.”
“P-please spare us! Mercy!”
“Anyone’d think I was the intruder.”
But what could they do? Soon their collars were grabbed, and they dropped to their knees, begging wildly. As two subordinates tied their arms with rope…
“You’ve all worked hard.”
“Ah. Ian.”
Ian appeared with Berik, both hooded. The thieves gawked up at him, hiccuping. What were those golden eyes that pierced even the dark?
“Came to steal?”
“Uh, w-well…”
“Forgive us! We’re starving! So hungry, we just…”
Ian clicked his tongue softly at the thieves.
“You could’ve waited a bit. Why rush like this?”
“Huh?”
“Lock these guys in the basement cell.”
“Yes, sir. No escort today either, Ian?”
“Nah. Berik’s enough.”
Ian and the mansion subordinates exchanged baffling words. Dragged off in confusion, the thieves were none the wiser as Ian and Berik exited through the mansion’s front gate.
Second night in a row of outings.
“Yawn.”
“Told you to nap.”
Instead of replying, Berik patted the gula sack on his back. A show that he was just as busy as Ian.
Moments later, they arrived at a civilian home on the outskirts.
“That house over there’s got a bunch of kids, they say.”
“Yeah? Let’s hit that one first.”
It was dim enough that the lights were out. Ian stepped into the yard and gently rapped the door handle.
Knock knock.
“Anyone home?”
No response, so once more.
Knock knock.
“Come out for a sec.”
A faint light flickered in the window. Then a hoarse male voice asked.
“Who is it?”
“Ian.”
“…Who?”
“Ian.”
Creak.
Half-asleep, he wasn’t grasping it. The door took forever to open. Blinking at Ian, the man’s eyes widened, and he flinched.
“Ian, sir?”
“Shh. You’ll wake the kids.”
“W-what brings you here?”
He knew Ian, but never dreamed Ian knew him. He was just an ordinary territory resident. For a stranger to mention his kids—how could he not be shocked?
“D-did I do something wrong…?”
So it was natural to feel uneasy. As fear flashed across the man’s face, Ian silently rummaged in Berik’s sack without a word.
Rustle.
“W-what’s that?”
“Gula.”
“Huh?”
A sack of gula seeds.
“Not the miracle drug from the rumors, but true the advisor eats it often, and it’s good for taste and nutrition. Right now, the mansion’s strictly controlling it, but I’ll soon release it freely across the territory. Pushing the advisor on it. Hold out till then, and if neighbors want some, share generously.”
“I-Ian, sir!”
“Giving to you first ’cause of all the kids. Got mountains of houses to hit, so can’t stay. You know to eat the seeds only?”
“O-of course, sir. No one in the territory doesn’t know now.”
“Just taste a bit and plant the rest. One seed yields ten or more gula.”
What midnight gift was this! The man nodded repeatedly in gratitude. As Ian patted his shoulder and left the yard, he followed, bowing deeply.
“Thank you!”
“You’ll wake the neighbors.”
Gasp! The man clamped his mouth shut. Once Ian vanished into the dark, he tiptoed back inside. The dim lamp blazed bright.
“…Ian. You’re a real mystery sometimes.”
“I know you plenty. Face says you’d drop dead to sleep right now.”
Berik rubbed his eyes tiredly. Handing out gula in the dead of night, on foot no less. Ian understood what Berik couldn’t.
“While the imperial palace hounds hoard and cultivate gula, supplies dwindle, and winter’s bite looms. If I hand out gula like this, how’ll it look to them?”
Like a godsend. They’d feel gratitude soon enough, turning to support for Ian.
“Aaaah. So tired.”
“Move it. Next is a house with kids. Rumors spread fastest from them.”
Some were standalone homes like the last, but the brothel district where Ian’s mother Filia had lived was a blurred maze.
“What’s going on? Can’t sleep at night?”
“Mom, Mom! Ian’s here!”
“What? Why’s Ian…?”
“He’s giving out gula! Gula!”
Folks with flipped day-night schedules made it rowdier than elsewhere. Ian distributed gula, whispering stern warnings to the kids.
“Short supply even for Bratz folk, so never give to outsiders. Got it?”
“Yes! Can I eat now?”
“Me too!”
“Yeah. Line up. Got more.”
Ian tousled the heads of the kids grabbing gula and exchanged greetings.
A man trailed Ian and Berik in secret.
Rustle.
As dawn broke, he confirmed they’d returned to the mansion. After a delay, he entered too, heading to the annex where Molin’s group stayed.
Creak.
“You’re back?”
“Yeah.”
It was Drgor. He tossed his hood on the bed with a wry chuckle. Mac, up all night waiting, prodded him.
“What were you doing out at night?”
“Handing out gula. Bold as brass.”
“What?”
Mac sipped his wine at Drgor’s words. Molin, by the window, chuckled too.
“That guy… He’s got some nerve.”
Romandro surely hadn’t omitted Ian’s name in reporting the gula find. He pocketed the palace’s praise and the territory folk’s support without missing a beat.
“Looks like he’ll keep going out alone with just Berik at dawn for a while.”
Molin’s sunken eyes shifted at Drgor’s report. A perfect chance to target Ian’s throat in the dark.