Newman (4)
Kuzz Newman kept a perfectly smooth expression, but watching him made me burn up on the inside.
Mesugaki skill, did you really have to point out that his hairline was retreating? Even in the world of Soul Academy, baldness is never a compliment.
Our family's Bald Knight laughs off being called bald because he's a cheerful man — absolutely not because he's proud of it.
In a situation where even honeyed words wouldn't have been enough, you had to go and sour his mood on top of it!
While I was scrambling to pick my next words, Kuzz parted his lips first.
"Are you aware of the Seal of the Crow?"
'Yes. Of course I am.'
'Wouldn't have brought it up if you didn't, Scrub of a Lord. Your thinking is as short as your hairline.'
Ugh, whatever.
If Kuzz tried to draw a blade on me, my own blade would block it anyway.
"Astonishing. That is information no one outside House Newman could possibly know."
Normally, that's true.
But I'm someone who came from outside this world.
There's almost nothing in this game I don't know.
Fine, I spout off like this and then some unforeseen event pops up and I get my ass handed to me — but I'm telling you, I know just about every piece of information there is!
For all you know, Kuzz, I might understand that seal better than you do.
So spare me the explanation about the item.
"That token is bestowed only upon those who have rendered true service to House Newman."
'Doesn't saving your son's life count as true service?'
'Is dragging one loser of a sickly young heir back from death's door not enough for you? What a stingy little Scrub Lord you are~♡'
"He is certainly a benefactor, my lady. But this is not an item one hands over lightly."
Beneath his level voice, I could see his fingers tapping idly against the back of the hand resting on the table.
"At the very least, it is a matter to be discussed only after you have saved my son's life."
'Funny. I was just about to say I could only explain after receiving the item myself.'
'Who exactly is in a position to bow their head here, Scrub of a Lord? Because it's certainly not me. Did your intelligence fall out along with your hair? Puh-hut~'
Without my willing it, laughter spilled from my lips, and as it did, I looked him dead in the eye.
Not a single muscle in Kuzz Newman's face so much as twitched.
Even Alsaetin shows a flicker of irritation now and then.
So this is what a back-alley noble, seasoned by every hardship the underworld has to offer, looks like.
My laughter trailed off, a stretch of silence passed, and then Kuzz let out a long breath.
"Lady Aln. Do you truly hold in your hands a means to lift the Curse of Agra?"
'Yes.'
"Then tell me this."
"Can you swear it beneath the God of Binding Vows?"
'Of course I can.'
'Of course. Unlike you, Scrub of a Lord, I'm not the suspicious type~♡'
Of course I can swear it.
I know countless ways to lift the Curse of Agra.
All I have to do is hand over one of them, after all.
"I see."
He nodded, seemingly satisfied, and pressed on.
"Very well. Here is my proposal. If you cure my son, Lady Aln, then I shall gladly grant you the Seal of the Crow."
No. Seriously, this guy.
Goods first. It's always goods first with him.
How exactly am I supposed to be certain you won't just seal your lips forever once I've told you how to cure your precious son?
Act like a proper underling and grovel at my feet already.
I was grumbling inwardly, disliking this man who kept playing tug-of-war over gains and losses, when Kuzz — who had been dragging his feet — opened his mouth once more.
"Sworn upon the God of Binding Vows, that is."
Huh? Really? Well, now we're talking.
It's true the Binding Vow penalty means nothing to a player like me, but for the head of a noble house, it's an entirely different story.
As I said before, breaking a Binding Vow is a truly colossal disgrace.
No matter how deeply House Newman is rooted in the underworld, its public image is essential.
Now imagine word getting out that its head broke a Binding Vow.
Who in their right mind would want to trade with a house steeped in that kind of dishonor?
Worse still, it would hand every family that resents House Newman the perfect excuse to tear into them — which means that promise is as good as handing me the Seal of the Crow outright.
And here I thought he was scheming to give me as little as possible. Turns out I was wrong, huh?
"In exchange, will you swear as well, my lady? That you will cure my son?"
'Yes. I will.'
"Not difficult, I trust. Good. Then let us swear it upon that loser of a God of Binding Vows."
I'd braced for the negotiation to be fought out far more bitterly than this.
I suppose his son's life really does carry considerable weight for Kuzz Newman.
"So you mean to exchange Binding Vows, girl?"
'Isn't that the fastest and most airtight way to do it?'
"Naturally it is. But as you well know, a vow is a thing to be entered with the utmost care."
'Sorry — what was that?'
"Deciding precisely what the vow shall contain will take a considerable stretch of time."
So basically, it'll feel like both parties sitting down to draft a contract together, term by term?
'Grandpa!'
"I know, I know. Let us deliberate at our leisure."
'I'm leaving it all to you, Grandpa! I absolutely hate wracking my brain like this, I really do!'
"My lord."
The moment the Binding Vow was concluded and Kuzz returned home from Soul Academy, his longtime confidant spoke up.
"What is it?"
"Do you truly intend to give that girl the Seal of the Crow?"
"I hardly have a choice, do I? We drew that vow up tight enough."
He had assumed the girl would be too arrogant and insolent to have any polish for political bargaining.
Lucy Aln had sailed far past Kuzz's expectations at every turn.
The way she had pinned down even a single particle of wording to be used in the vow — why, not even the head of an ordinary knightly house would be so meticulous.
Beneath the face of a thoughtless little child lurked a serpent of the royal court, it seemed.
And yet you failed to foresee one thing, Lucy Aln. You believed I would struggle desperately to avoid surrendering the Seal of the Crow.
But my aim lay somewhere else entirely.
You said it yourself. You would cure my son.
Interpreted generously, that means you will come to our house and cure him.
It's unseemly to say this about my own flesh and blood, but my son takes after his mother — the boy is blessed with remarkable beauty.
Even the most insolent little brat would find it impossible not to take some interest.
Heh heh. Nothing forges a bond between houses quite like this. Yes, indeed.
Having given up what he had to give and secured what he set out to gain, Kuzz let out a soft chuckle and addressed his confidant.
"Carry out the search precisely as Lucy Aln described. If her words are true, we'll find the means to save our son there."
"Understood, my lord. I'll dispatch men and assemble a search party at once."
Kuzz gave no further instructions.
He trusted that the confidant who had heard the explanation alongside him would handle the rest capably on his own.
"Then I'll see to it straightaway—"
"Ah. One moment."
"Yes, my lord?"
"Look into herbs that are good for the hair."
At this private request falling from the lips of a lord who spoke of nothing but business, the confidant cautiously raised his head — then, catching sight of his master pointedly looking away, lowered it once more.
"...Understood, my lord."
His confidant was not so tactless a man as to call attention to his master's embarrassment.
'I'm drained, honestly.'
"By my measure, this concluded quickly. On the long end, such vows have been argued over clause by clause for years on end."
'...Seriously?'
"Were you not taught this? It is set down in the histories."
Did I ever learn that? I can't quite remember.
Come to think of it, I feel like I might have.
Or maybe not.
"Do not tell me you've forgotten it, girl?"
'As if that could happen!'
"Then recite for me which incident it was."
The instant I shut my mouth, Grandpa's nagging came crashing down on my ears.
But I'm a seasoned veteran of Grandpa's lectures too.
Ever since I got my hands on him, I've been served the same sermon practically every single day — I know exactly how to handle it.
In one ear, straight out the other!
Time to think about something else.
The most important thing right now is the necklace.
The Burrow Family's Necklace.
The item Kuzz Newman had pressed into my hands as a down payment the moment the vow was sealed.
With this in hand, racking up the Inferior Young Master's affection is laughably easy!
Hand over this necklace, clear the quest that branches off from it, and from that point on, Jacal Burrow's heart is an open door!
Which means I can clear that quest the damned loser Chief God dumped on me right away!
I wonder what the loser Chief God will hand out this time.
Then again, when the useless, good-for-nothing Chief God does give out rewards, He gives them properly.
He'll forcibly shut my mouth because He can't stomach the cheek if I run it for no reason — but hey, all I have to do is keep it shut.
It's far too late tonight, so I'll go see Jacal Burrow tomorrow.
I can't wait.
"Girl! Are you hearing a single word I say?!"
'Yeees~'
I'm hearing you.
I'm just not committing any of it to memory.
The next day, when lunchtime arrived at the Academy, I headed for the reading room to find Jacal Burrow.
The Inferior Young Master is a man who lives at full tilt, every single day, driven by the conviction that he must stand at the very summit of the Academy.
True, his inferiority complex makes him jealous of anyone positioned above him — but that passion of his is absolutely genuine.
While ordinary students would be taking a breather, the Inferior Young Master does not rest. Not even now.
The tragedy of it is that even after throwing his entire life into the effort, every last scrap of it is overshadowed by Arthur.
But what can you do? That's just how the character is written.
If you want someone to blame, blame the game studio that made this game.
I pushed open the reading room door and made for the corner where the Inferior Young Master sat.
The desk right beside the window.
There he was, pen scratching across the page.
I took the seat across from Jacal, who was glaring wide-eyed down into his book, and he slowly lifted his head.
'Hello there.'
"Hello to you, Inferior Young Master."
Ah. Called it.
There was no chance in hell you'd address anyone else normally.
I'd seen it coming from a mile away, so even watching Jacal's face contort, I wasn't the least bit rattled.
"Why come all this way just to pick a fight, Lady Aln?"
'Because I have something to give you.'
'Something you'd drool over, Inferior Young Master.'
I drew a jewelry case from inside my coat and held it up for him to see.
Even then, Jacal's expression didn't soften in the slightest.
He simply stared at the case with detached indifference.
"What is that?"
'Look closely.'
"Look closely, Inferior Young Master. You're about to say something foolish, after all."
"Haa. Fine. If you have business, say it fast and get lost. Don't get in my way."
The thorns bristling from every syllable told me he doesn't like me.
Well, of course he doesn't.
In this Academy, there are faaaar more people who hate me than like me.
And on top of that, how is anyone supposed to warm up to the human being who walks around calling them the Inferior Young Master?
But once you see this, you'll change your tune. Won't you?
The moment I slid the jewelry case open, Jacal Burrow's eyes went wide.
Haha. Knew it.
There's no way you wouldn't recognize this.
How could you ever forget this?
'You like it, don't you~?'
"Judging by that dumbstruck look on your face, I'd say you do. Inferior Young Master?"