Newman (1)
So because I showed interest, they decided to strike first?
I furrowed my brow at Alsaetin's words.
Alsaetin. What you're saying is...
"An information broker. I had no idea the trade could be this utterly pathetic. You had exactly one talent, and you can't even manage to do that properly?"
No matter how deeply the Newman family was entangled with the underworld, think about it. This was the only place the necklace had been mentioned — so how on earth did they connect the necklace to me?
Hm?
It would be impossible unless the leak came from your side.
Is this a confession?
Or did you deliberately do something insane because you wanted to get yelled at?
"My apologies, Lady Arln. I will gladly accept any reproach regarding this matter. However, as the situation is urgent, might you hear me out first?"
Go ahead.
"Useless peddler of gossip. Talk. Not that it will prove anything beyond what a pathetic hack you are."
Beneath my snickering mockery, Alsaetin began his explanation in a calm tone.
"The first matter I must convey is that the Newman family's interest in you, Lady Arln, is not a recent development. From what we pieced together belatedly, they have been keeping an eye on you for at least four to five months."
Roughly half a year ago from now — wasn't that right around when I had first possessed Lucy's body?
The only thing I'd done back then was train like a maniac inside the Alrn household.
If anything happened outside, it would be the trip into the medium-sized dungeon in Evans to obtain Grandpa.
But that was just our family's knights heading out for training.
There was no reason for the Newmans to take an interest in that.
What else did I do back then?
Ah. The reputation-building quest.
The one where I cured the Curse of Agra with a potion I happened to have.
The moment I recalled it, the mystery unraveled.
As I explained before, the Newman family was a noble house deeply tied to the underworld.
A family that had amassed wealth and status through every manner of filthy, corrupt dealing, they played a substantial role in the game's side stories.
Mostly on the ugly side of things, granted.
But not every one of them was rotten.
At the end of the day, the Newmans were still human, and there were a handful of perfectly ordinary quests involving them too.
One of those centered on the Newman family's eldest son.
The firstborn heir of House Newman was under threat from the Curse of Agra.
The head of the family was pouring his fortune into keeping that thread of life from snapping, but the curse was a vicious one.
Without a true cure, every other action was nothing more than a death rattle.
It wasn't as if the head of House Newman was ignorant of this.
He was desperately scouring every avenue for a way to break the curse and save his son.
So what was the problem?
The moment you lifted the Curse of Agra, you were designated as Agra's enemy and marked for his wrath.
Just as I had skirted death at that bastard's hands more times than I could count.
I could bear it because I knew everything that happened because of that son of a bitch Agra — but the ordinary people of this world were a different story.
To the people of the continent, Agra was regarded as the utterly wicked Evil God who had nearly destroyed the world.
Who, anywhere on this earth, would willingly accept being hunted by such a being?
No matter how handsome the reward, what good was it if it cost me my life?
That was why most capable people shied away from curing the Curse of Agra.
There were a rare few who didn't fear the sacrifice, but those were usually saintly clergy of unimpeachable virtue.
And what would such people think of the Newmans, big shots of the underworld?
Obviously, they wouldn't lift a finger to help.
And could the Newmans force a cure out of these people?
As if.
Anyone with the standing to cure the Curse of Agra was, by definition, a being you could call a walking calamity.
If the Newmans had the power to threaten someone like that, wouldn't they have solved the problem themselves already?
If there's no one to cure it, why not just use an item?
A fair point.
If those items weren't such a nightmare to acquire.
An object with enough weight to suppress a god like Agra wasn't something that just floated onto the market.
No matter how vast your connections or how deep your coffers, if the item never surfaced for sale, it meant nothing.
Trapped in a situation where nothing worked, staring at his dying son — how desperate must the head of House Newman have been?
He was ready to do absolutely anything to keep his boy alive.
And into that situation drifted rumors of someone who had performed a miracle.
Of course he'd set his greedy eyes on them, thinking they might just save his son.
But here's what fascinates me.
If this quest triggered while your reputation and strength were low, you got abducted.
So how did a walking pile of inadequacy like me get to stroll around unharmed?
Was it because I was the Lady of House Alrn?
Truly, I thank my lucky stars with every passing day that I rolled the noble start.
If the starving-for-novelty me had stacked every possible penalty and picked a commoner or slave start, by now I would be...
Ugh. I don't even want to think about it.
In a game, a game-over screen pops up and that's the end of it. Not here.
There would definitely have been some grisly scene on display — the kind that needs an adults-only warning label before you're allowed to look.
"From the moment Lady Arln first set foot in this place, we were being watched, so they likely took our movements as an expression of your will."
So...
"So the necklace got snatched away from you, is that it, you useless gossip-peddler? And you say that like it's something to brag about. Why not just write PATHETIC across your forehead and walk around?"
"My sincere apologies."
Roughly speaking, I understood the situation now.
The Newmans had intercepted the necklace to flush me out.
Even for Alsaetin, there was no winning a contest against a noble house throwing its full weight behind acquiring an object.
It was less that he was incompetent and more that the Newmans simply moved fast.
Has the Newman family made contact at all?
"Has that pitiful Newman house sent anything over?"
"Nothing yet."
Why not?
They took the goods, so shouldn't they be using that as leverage — offering terms, or summoning me?
As I tilted my head, Alsaetin ventured his voice carefully.
"Might I offer my own speculation?"
Yes. Go ahead.
"Talk. I'm curious how long you can keep spouting useless drivel."
"I believe the Newman family wishes to observe your reaction, Lady Arln."
The Newmans had worked the underworld for generations.
As such, they knew exactly how to erase their own tracks.
Left to their own devices, they could have operated without leaving a single trace — yet they deliberately left behind evidence, practically inviting us to trace it back to them. That could only be intentional.
Reading the tea leaves from that clue, Alsaetin explained, the Newman family wanted me to reach out to them.
"If Your Ladyship makes the first move, they gain certainty that the item they obtained is something you truly want. That hands them the upper hand in any negotiation to come.
Even if you don't, it changes little. The Newmans will keep watching us and scheming to interfere, and sooner or later you will acquire what you desire regardless.
In the end, what House Newman wants is for you, Lady Arln, to open the negotiating table."
Though I couldn't fathom why they were moving as desperately as someone betting their life on it, Grandpa voiced his agreement with Alsaetin's explanation — the most persuasive theory on the table.
"If they left the trail on purpose, then of course they're waiting for you to make contact."
Hmm. Sounds like the Newmans are getting pretty desperate too.
So what should I do in this situation?
Simply negotiating to get the necklace back was entirely doable.
But I didn't want to settle for just that.
The Newmans wielded real influence in the underworld — there was plenty of meat left on that bone.
No matter how I turned it over, in this affair I was the one holding the leverage and they were the ones begging, so walking away with nothing but the necklace felt like leaving money on the table.
Wasn't there some better play?
As I agonized over it, I realized anew that I had zero talent for this kind of politicking.
Not a single plausible answer came to me.
Whenever protagonists in novels hit a moment like this, they'd spin out scheme after brilliant scheme and walk away with far more than they were ever owed.
Why did I get no such talent?
I suppose running amok after transmigrating is something only the smart ones do well.
What a rotten, rotten world.
But it's fine.
I may have no head for politics, but I have Grandpamon.
Help me out, Grandpamon!
'Grandfather. What should I do?'
"You mean to ask how you ought to go about reclaiming that necklace?"
'No. Obviously I'm taking that back no matter what — my question is how I squeeze out more than that.'
"So what you're telling me is that you know what the other side wants, and that you can provide it?"
'Yes. Of course.'
I couldn't cure the Curse of Agra with my own hands just yet — but I knew the location of an item that could.
And if the item proved unreliable, I even knew how to broker an introduction to someone who could lift the curse personally.
Simply put: whatever shape the problem took, I had a solution.
Because I'm rotten water, baby!
"Let me ask one more thing. Is this necklace of yours something you need this very instant?"
Hmm. Good question.
Factoring in the time it would take to clear the quest chain branching from that necklace and push the lesser prince's affection up to seventy...
'I can afford to give it up to two months.'
"Tighter than I expected. In that case, rather than waiting for them to grow desperate, you'd do better to come at them hard. Answer me a few more questions."
"My lord. A letter has arrived from the Lady of House Alrn."
"Oh ho. Quick work."
Gus Newman, head of House Newman, smiled as he took the letter his trusted retainer handed him.
So the item we'd snatched with such a heavy-handed move had been quite precious to the Lady of Alrn after all.
She wouldn't have sent a letter this fast otherwise.
Licking his lips, Gus unfolded the letter and leisurely scanned the line at the very top.
To the esteemed head of House Newman — that family of bottom-feeding nobodies.
— The Lady of House Alrn
"Hk—"
There it is. She's well and truly furious.
The Lady of Alrn's venomous tongue was common knowledge, but he hadn't expected her to aim it at him of all people.
Ordinarily, Gus would have bristled at the insult — but today, his brow didn't so much as twitch.
The other side being angry meant they were that much more desperate.
And that was exactly what Gus had been hoping for.
But the further his eyes traveled down the page, the more visibly Gus's expression curdled.
It wasn't simply because the letter's contents were stuffed wall to wall with insults.
If that were all, he'd have brushed it off as the charming tantrum of a young lady.
"...What in God's name is this girl?"
The reason Gus's face had gone stone-serious was what lay within it:
I trust the sickly little heir so beloved by the Evil God is keeping well?
Because she was poking him directly where it hurt most.