How to Become the Boss (13)
After whispers began circulating that the Second Prince might be behind this whole affair, I wrapped up the situation over there exactly as Grandpa instructed.
The first order of business was intimidating the commoners involved.
One word about what happened here leaking outside, and they'd all vanish in an instant — after hearing that, the commoners' faces went pale as corpses.
The one saving grace for me was that Mane was at the center of it all.
Born a merchant through and through, he grasped immediately just how utterly screwed he could be, and cooperated with me proactively.
Thanks to that, handling things on the commoner dormitory side wasn't all that difficult. Mane ran himself ragged, desperate to keep the danger from ever touching him.
Next up was paying Luka a visit.
Because if the Idiot Trio started blabbing about this whole mess all over the place, that would be a problem.
So I had to shut their mouths — but let's be honest, threatening those idiots myself would get me nowhere. They wouldn't listen anyway.
Which brings us to Luka. With his towering reputation among the commoners, there was no doubt he could force those three to keep their lips sealed for life.
"These three? Not a difficult task at all. Within the week, I'll make them guard the secret with their very lives."
That was the response I got when I went to Luka and explained the situation.
Had anyone else said it, I wouldn't have thought twice — but coming from him, I couldn't shake the icy shiver crawling up my spine.
Because this guy would absolutely bury them somewhere and then declare the secret perfectly secure.
'...That's not you asking to kill them, right? You understand that, yes?'
"Pedo Professor, let me make this clear up front: I did not say kill them. Even you can grasp that much, right?"
"Ah. Is that so? I nearly made a mistake."
...He was serious?!
Despite that minor hiccup, I managed to smooth things over, then asked Karia to find out why the Idiot Trio's ringleader had assumed the Second Prince was backing them.
"Sorry, boss. Digging up information? Easy. But cracking the Academy's security is a real pain in the ass."
'There's a secret passage.'
"Don't worry. Thinking of your poor old auntie with her bad joints, I went ahead and found the secret passage."
"Oh? That's new information, even to me."
All of this was part of the plan to handle the incident as quietly as possible.
Pressing an inquiry over something this trivial would earn nothing but hassle, while costing us plenty. That was Grandpa's take.
He explained that lodging a formal complaint up the chain would net us nothing but a single insincere apology — while breeding enemies of every shape and variety.
So for this matter, we learn the broad outline of who did what, then bury it.
'We just sweep it under the rug as an "incident," basically?'
Aye. You have already moved noisily enough. If the other side possesses even a lick of sense, they will stop here.
Grandpa's addendum — that anything beyond that would be thoroughly entertaining — sounded suspiciously like hoping the enemy would act like complete fools.
He didn't elaborate further, so I can't claim to know the details, but one thing was clear.
From now on, any problem like this could simply be outsourced to Grandpa.
Good grief. How is a man of the cloth this fluent in politics? Or wait — is he good at politics because he's a man of the cloth?
Word from Johann last time was that the Church itself was a political snake pit, after all.
After seeing the whole process through, the following evening rolled around.
I dropped by the back alley to hear the results of the previous night's work, and this was the information Karia handed me.
"Congratulations, boss. The Second Prince is absolutely head over heels for you."
...I'm sorry, what? What kind of insane nonsense is that?
At first I assumed she was just screwing with me — but no. Her words were somewhat exaggerated, sure, yet not wrong.
The Second Prince had been interested in me for a while now. Around the time of the midterm exams, he'd even come to me personally and extended his hand.
I'd thought I'd squirmed out of that crisis at the time, but apparently he'd kept watching me the entire while.
Thanks to that, the Second Prince heard about my showdown with the First Prince at the Partran festival faster than anyone. Including, naturally, the part where I showered the First Prince with humiliation in front of a crowd.
"From what I hear, the Second Prince isn't too fond of the First Prince."
"Not fond" was putting it diplomatically.
The Second Prince hates the First Prince.
Because he's his rival in the contest for the throne.
Because the man took the talent that should have been his and made himself the yardstick by which the Second Prince would forever be measured.
Because, on top of that, the First Prince won't even grant him the dignity of treating him as a rival.
The Second Prince I know dreams of planting the First Prince beneath his heel and laughing down at him.
So imagine his delight when news arrived that the First Prince had been humiliated.
And imagine how warmly he'd feel toward the person who planted that humiliation.
"He seems to want to pull you to his side by any means necessary."
The moment I heard this, a cold certainty settled into my gut: there would be no dodging the Second Prince for the rest of my life.
Someday. Somehow. The Second Prince would stand before me — and standing before him, I would inevitably spit out the words "Idiot Prince."
Haah. Nothing to be done about it. As long as I carry the Mesugaki Skill, this is an obstacle I'm destined to cross. No point burning mental energy on the unsolvable — focus on something else instead.
'But why...'
"But why'd they try to mess with me? Is it because the Idiot Prince is a genuine idiot?"
"...Are you talking about the Second Prince?"
'Yeees.'
"Right. So, why?"
"Uh, boss? You're not actually going to call him Idiot Prince to his face, are you?"
I couldn't bring myself to answer that one. I don't want to — but I knew, with absolute certainty, that I would.
"Whoa."
Muttering that she'd better look into the Second Prince's faction too, Karia continued.
"To pick the story back up — the one who orchestrated this wasn't the Second Prince himself. It was someone in his faction."
Nobody understood better than the Second Prince's faction just how much of his favor was aimed at me.
Before, I'd merely been a talented student. Now, things were different.
Having crushed the First Prince head-on — an unprecedented result — I now had the Second Prince's eyes fixed squarely on me. If I were to join his faction, it went without saying he would treasure me.
"So it was a light check against a potential competitor. They wanted to drag your reputation through the mud, by any means."
So, to summarize: they'd decided the existence of Lucy Aln threatened their career prospects, and moved to strangle me in the cradle.
Listening to that, a hollow laugh escaped me.
Well, well. Now I could actually feel my reputation climbing. Back in the day, a check this petty would never have even flown my way. So now I'm officially a threat, am I? Lucy Aln, danger to the realm?
Hmm. If this woman speaks true, an incident like this will not end after only once.
'Tell me about it.'
It was precisely because the Second Prince had taken an interest in me that his people were keeping me in check.
Unless he stopped keeping an eye on me, their sneaky little schemes would keep flying at me from every direction imaginable.
Good grief, they say like attracts like — turns out only idiots gather around an idiot.
...Huh?
In the middle of that thought, a brilliant idea suddenly struck me.
If the checks kept coming because the Second Prince was fond of me — then wouldn't eliminating that idiot's fondness solve every single problem?
'Grandpa. Grandpa.'
What is it now? I was in the middle of thinking.
'What if I just straight-up call him Idiot Prince?'
Vishy had never eaten anything this delicious in her entire life — her eyes sparkled — and then she caught sight of the little girl watching her every move, and let out a soft laugh.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing. Just... aren't you going to eat?"
"I've got my own."
"O-oh. Okay."
Several days had passed since she'd been saddled with Velma at Lucy's command.
At first, Vishy had thought of her as nothing but a bothersome little brat — but as time went on, her opinion had shifted.
There was something about Velma that reminded Vishy of the little sister she'd lost long ago.
The way she seemed naive to the ways of the world. The way she showed her joy with pure, unguarded delight. The clumsy, earnest way she tried to look after others.
So at some point, Vishy had started taking care of Velma in earnest.
Telling herself the excuse — not even much of an excuse — that after everything Lucy had given her, she ought to at least manage this much.
Truthfully, "excuse" was too strong a word. The book Lucy had handed her was, without question, something enormous.
Vishy still remembered it vividly.
A tome written in an ancient language she couldn't even begin to decipher. And the moment she'd passed it to Adri as Lucy instructed — the reaction on her face.
— ...Where in the world did you get this?
The instant the book touched her hands, Adri's pupils had trembled — like someone staring at a treasure she'd believed forever beyond her reach.
'Lady Alrn gave it to me.'
— The young lady.
Blinking rapidly as she turned the name over in her mind, Adri had then burst into wild, hysterical laughter.
Not the laughter of the living savoring a pleasure — but the mad cackle one would expect from one who died nursing a grudge.
Vishy, who had only ever seen Adri's usual polite, childlike demeanor, was utterly overwhelmed by that laugh — but the moment passed quickly enough.
Before long the laughter died away, and Adri was back to her everyday self.
— Please convey my thanks to the Lady later. This is something precious beyond measure — to me, and to you as well.
'...It's really that valuable?'
— Fufu. Of course. Ah, right. Also, tell her that if she ever has a favor to ask of me in the future, I will do anything she requires.
As it turned out, the book contained the secret necromantic arts of a mage who had once led an entire house in ages past.
A priceless relic that would have fetched whatever price she cared to name in the underworld.
The kind of thing every necromancer alive would tear the world apart searching for.
And Lucy had simply handed it over to Vishy without asking for a single thing in return.
In the beginning, Vishy had obeyed Lucy's orders only because her weakness had been seized — but that was no longer the case.
So much had been given to her that gratitude for the debt she'd incurred now outweighed her fear entirely.
To the point that she found herself locked in earnest deliberation over how she could ever possibly repay it.
Then again, honestly — repay it with what? That lady's family was loaded. Her mace, her shield, her armor — nothing but top-shelf gear. She had money. She had brains. And now she had connections coming out of her ears, too.
Was there literally anything I could give back?
No matter how she turned it over, she couldn't think of a single thing.
Chin in hand, brow furrowed, she heaved a sigh at the answerless problem — then took her frustration out on the dessert that had materialized in front of her.
And then, on the walk back to the Academy dormitory, she spotted a crowd packed tight into the plaza.
Had some announcement been posted or something?
Vishy tilted her head, spotted a friend at the outer edge of the throng, and walked over.
"Hey. What's going on?"
"Who — oh! Vishy!"
The moment her friend confirmed Vishy's face, she dropped her voice to a whisper in a heartbeat.
"Hey. Hey. Everything is chaos right now!"
"So what is it?"
"Lady Alrn called the Second Prince an insult to his face!!"