Chapter 241
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 241
Chapter Title: Imitating a Gardener
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He stared down at his own hands for a long while.
The sturdy-built middle-aged man with graying hair, Hermann, let out a heavy sigh.
'Human greed truly knows no bounds.'
Just a few days ago, he couldn't even properly hold a cup.
Until then, he'd thought that if his illness could just be cured, he wouldn't wish for anything more.
And indeed, when he received treatment from Maia and was able to sculpt again, he felt immense joy.
But right now, in this moment, his heart was filled not with happiness or satisfaction, but with melancholy and a sense of hopelessness.
The very moment his hands recovered, he was faced with a harsh reality.
It was because his failure to sculpt the perfect Venus de Milo left such a profound regret.
'If only my hands had held out a little longer, I wouldn't have made such a mistake...'
At first, he thought they were fully healed.
But that had been a delusion.
As time passed and his stamina waned, the symptoms recurred, and his hands began to tremble once more.
If it had been due to his own lack of skill, that would be one thing, but the fact that illness had robbed him of that perfect sculpture filled him with pity for himself.
'...Well, even if my hands had held out, there's no guarantee I could have pulled it off.'
Hermann gave a wry smile.
In truth, even at the peak of his career, he had never created a sculpture of that caliber.
The closest he'd come had taken weeks at the shortest, or even years at the longest, to complete.
And yet he'd tried to achieve something so perfect right away.
It had been an act of excessive greed.
'Still, I have no idea how to face Ri from now on.'
Amid his embarrassment, he suddenly thought of Rimon again.
Rimon had sought him out when he'd given up on everything, even offering his own body to ensure he got treatment, and yet Hermann hadn't fulfilled what Rimon wanted. That guilt weighed on him.
Of course, with more treatment, he could probably achieve that sculpture eventually.
But if stage two was already like this, could he really handle stage three?
No, even if he did manage stage three, would that alone repay the favor of being cured?
'I have to repay this debt somehow...'
How exactly was he supposed to settle this obligation?
As Hermann pondered, something odd flitted across his field of view while he sat on the rooftop bench, gazing at the sky garden.
"Ri?"
"Hey, Mr. Sculptor. What are you doing up here? Treatment's done for the day?"
"Morning treatment wrapped up, so they told me to rest. I was just out for a stroll... What about you? What brings you here?"
"I'm in the middle of slave duty."
A ladder tucked under his arm.
Hedge shears slung over his shoulder.
And a drab work uniform to top it off.
Rimon, the picture-perfect image of a gardener, shrugged.
"Seems our master is quite the curious one. She wants to test every trick this new slave might have up his sleeve."
"So you're playing gardener this time?"
"Something like that."
"...You're working hard."
Hermann couldn't help but chuckle dryly.
He knew Rimon had been busy lately.
Not just cleaning, but errands like fetching food from a restaurant fifty kilometers away in under ten minutes, or moving mountains of luggage.
Maia had been putting him through every odd job imaginable.
Like a scout eyeing an athlete... No, more like a researcher tossing an experimental subject into all sorts of environments to observe.
'Well, can hardly blame her.'
Orders that might seem like harassment under normal circumstances.
Yet Hermann could only nod in understanding because Rimon was handling most of them with ease.
He struggled a bit with tasks requiring brains.
But with anything physical, he breezed through as if it were second nature.
Of course, being human, he showed some clumsiness with things he'd never done before.
But that only lasted at the start.
Once he tried something a few times, he quickly grasped the knack and performed it flawlessly, so Maia's orders had been ramping up in difficulty day by day.
He just hadn't expected gardener duty.
'Looks like even Chairman Maia has gotten competitive...'
As Hermann wryly smiled at what seemed less like observation now and more like testing Rimon's limits, Maia appeared on the rooftop.
"What are you two talking about?"
"Oh, nothing much. Just ran into Mr. Sculptor here."
"Save the chit-chat for after you've finished your tasks."
"If I finish the work, you'll grant me break time! I'm always grateful for your mercy, Mistress."
Cheeky, or perhaps just brazen.
Maia curled her lips in a cold sneer as Rimon seized the loophole to snag some rest time.
"Fine. If you complete your work well, I'll give you ample break time."
"Thank y—"
"But if the garden you tend doesn't please me even slightly, you won't get break time today—or sleep time, for that matter."
"Mistress, on second thought, I don't need a break."
Rimon instantly switched tunes, grinning all the while.
A swift retreat worthy of a veteran.
But instead of letting him escape, Maia deepened her mocking smile.
"Want to go two days without sleep?"
"...I'll get right to it."
She knows exactly how to handle a slave.
He grumbled openly but still picked up the shears and headed to the nearest garden tree.
Watching him, Hermann shook his head.
'To act like that in front of Chairman Maia. Gotta give it to Ri—that guy's got guts.'
He found Maia intimidating.
It wasn't dislike.
On the contrary, as the one who had cured him, she was closer to a benefactor, so he felt fondness.
Still, he tensed up around her.
It wasn't just her cynical aura, sarcastic tone, or sharp gaze.
Like a mouse facing a snake.
Or a goat spotting a spider.
For some reason, every time he met her, chills ran down his spine and anxiety welled up unbidden.
As if his primal survival instincts were screaming a warning of danger.
And he wasn't the only one.
The other Green Dragon clansmen he'd seen here held their breath and swallowed dryly around her.
That made Rimon's casual banter stand out even more.
If it were Hermann, he'd just admire the guts, but others like Arvelra probably saw Rimon as outright insane.
'Fortunately, Chairman Maia doesn't seem offended.'
Curiously, Maia was the same.
Given her no-nonsense personality, she could easily punish a slave for Rimon's impertinence.
Yet she only jabbed back with sharp words or sarcasm, never outright correcting his attitude or issuing harsh orders.
Arvelra had scoffed that no researcher gets mad at lab rats...
'...Anyway, Ri's in for some real work this time.'
After a brief glance at Maia with curious eyes, Hermann turned to Rimon, who had finished preparing to trim the garden trees, and gave a wry smile.
He knew Rimon was a natural with physical labor, but being a gardener wasn't just about chopping trees well.
Gardening was a profession created to beautify the gardens of nobles in old times.
As such, it demanded more knowledge, experience, and artistic sense than raw stamina.
Top gardeners were proficient in flowers, horticulture, and landscaping as basics, often with architectural knowledge too.
And to satisfy Maia on top of that?
Unless they brought in a royal gardener from somewhere, it was impossible.
So Hermann thought—until Rimon started clipping.
Snip.
"...?"
For that first brief moment.
He didn't understand.
Why his back had straightened at the instant Rimon pruned the garden tree's branch.
Why he could only watch the shears, entranced.
Snip. Snip.
The clipping continued.
Branches fell away.
And Hermann's eyes grew wider by the second.
Time passed.
Finally, when Rimon set down the shears after finishing every tree, Hermann's jaw practically dropped.
'That's...!'
The form from the Venus de Milo.
The goal the platinum carving knife had demanded of him.
The world's most ideal garden, embodied in that 'perfect sculpture.' Hermann couldn't help but let his jaw tremble.
"Welcome, Princess."
"It's been a while, Tzushuan."
The neatly dressed middle-aged woman greeted her courteously.
Li Chingwei smiled warmly at Tzushuan.
"I hope my sudden visit isn't a bother."
"Don't even joke about that. For you to grace us with your presence personally, I'd shut down operations if needed."
"That's music to my ears as clan princess, but as Leviathan's chairwoman, not so much."
"Oh dear, I got so excited by your visit that this dullard misspoke. Please, anything but firing me."
"Rest easy. I have no intention of firing talent like you, Tzushuan."
"That's a relief."
Even knowing it was a joke, Tzushuan beamed as if truly reassured.
Which made sense.
No matter what anyone said, Li Chingwei was both princess and Leviathan's chairwoman.
Black Dragon Clan or not, Tzushuan—as manager of the Leviathan Hotel Sao Paulo branch—had no choice but to tread carefully around her.
Especially since their princess had unpacked at a hotel prepared by the Green Dragon Clan.
So Tzushuan asked with veiled anticipation.
"We've prepared the penthouse. Shall I show you up?"
"No, I don't plan to change lodgings for a while."
Li Chingwei shook her head.
Being under surveillance already, staying at Leviathan would invite needless suspicion.
Even Barbara, who had escorted her, had shown doubt upon learning the destination was Leviathan.
"What a pity."
Tzushuan couldn't hide her disappointment, despite understanding as Leviathan's manager.
Li Chingwei spoke calmly to her.
"Instead, I have a few questions."
"Ask away. I'll answer as best I can."
Tzushuan replied confidently.
As Leviathan's manager, she prided herself on knowing most intel about Brazil.
"Have you ever heard the word 'Ambrosia'?"
But at Li Chingwei's question.
Her confidence gave way to a mix of bafflement and awkwardness as she countered.
"...Where did you hear about that?"
"Just stumbled upon it by chance."
"To acquire in two days what even I—who oversees Brazil's intel network—haven't fully grasped... You're embarrassing me, Princess."
"So you do have some info on it?"
"It's not solid intel. Just rumors I've heard a few times."
Tzushuan felt embarrassed.
She had excuses, though.
Thanks to Li Chingwei selling off nearly half of Leviathan's shares to other clans, the Black Dragon Clan was more than fallen—it was halved.
Digging into every little rumor amid that was tough.
Sensing the situation, Li Chingwei didn't blame her.
She simply asked steadily.
"Rumors are fine. Tell me what you know about Ambrosia."
"If rumors suffice, very well."
Reporting unverified gossip was embarrassing for Leviathan's manager, but the princess's will came first.
Thus, Tzushuan calmly recounted the Ambrosia rumors she'd heard.
"Ambrosia is..."