Chapter 220
Chapter 220
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 220
>Chapter Title: It's Not That I Don't Trust You
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How had Evelyn drawn the attention of the noble ladies...?
Well, the secret was this.
"It's rivalry. Everyone wants to outdo the others, to feel superior, right?"
She said it simply, as if it were nothing at all—but for Evelyn, it had been anything but simple.
She had to check the connections among relic-collecting nobles and pinpoint the social venues they frequented most.
And that was far from the end of it.
It started with buying off the staff at those venues, then figuring out how to slip word of the "auction" to the ladies in a way that felt natural.
In the end, the method Evelyn settled on was straightforward.
Suppose A and B were rivals. She had her planted staff leak the same info to both sides.
To A: "Word is B's got her eye on a fine relic this time. Says it'll flatten that proud nose of yours?"
The same to B.
Sure, it was easy to explain—but pulling it off took a far more intricate process.
"And it's not just here. By now, every social venue in Hazen is buzzing with the story."
Evelyn laid out the full tale, flashing a grin.
She played it off like no big deal, but her face couldn't hide the pride.
Of course, it wasn't time to let her guard down yet.
'Anything can happen before the auction kicks off.'
Things were lively now, but high society gossip? A dime a dozen.
One big splash, then some fresh scandal pops up, and the spotlight shifts—just like that.
In other words, she needed to keep nurturing the rumors nonstop.
And one more thing.
'The real heavyweights haven't shown yet. Can't stop here.'
She'd watched the ladies who flitted between venues, but no true big fish anywhere.
Sure, it was only a matter of time before the whispers reached their ears...
Evelyn steeled herself. No slacking, not until the very end.
And finally.
'The real problem's the auction lineup.'
The headline relics were top-shelf, but the supporting items and overall flow? Severely lacking.
In short, they risked the classic "all hype, no goods."
Even with free manpower from the black market cartel, running a noble-targeted auction with total greenhorns was bound to be a scramble.
Was that why?
Just moments ago, her face beaming with smug triumph—now a shadow of worry crossed it.
Evelyn rarely felt daunted by anything like this, but the pressure of needing a sure win on such shaky ground...?
A creeping unease welled up.
'Just do it like always. Like always.'
She closed her eyes briefly, steadying her mind.
But why?
Her heart refused to settle.
No—once she'd noticed the anxiety, the ripples in her mind layered on, swelling bigger with each wave.
'Why... why is this happening?'
She'd never felt anything like it...
Evelyn couldn't hide her bewilderment at this unfamiliar weight.
Like how one conscious breath turns endlessly awkward, fixating on the pressure only made her shake more.
It was then, as Evelyn reeled in confusion—
"Good work."
A voice rang in her ear.
"...Pardon?"
The flat tone yanked her back to reality. Evelyn blurted the question without thinking.
Her head still spun, her disrupted breathing far from restored. Then the voice droned in her ear again.
"Good work."
"...Ah."
"I couldn't have pulled this off. You did great. Impressive. I mean it—truly amazing."
Evelyn quietly took in the boy standing before her.
Black-White Slums gutter rat, Aster.
Her old self? She wouldn't have given his words the time of day.
But why?
Her pounding heart began to slow. Her ragged breaths steadied, calming.
This time, though, bewilderment spread for a different reason. Even she found the shift unfamiliar.
But one thing was clear.
Her mind felt at ease.
'......'
Evelyn gazed at her now-steady fingertips, then lifted her eyes to Aster. For some reason, meeting his gaze straight-on felt impossible—
"While we're at it, I'll let this slide."
"...Pardon?"
"The money you skimmed. Once is fine. Call it a bonus or whatever."
"......"
What was she supposed to say to that?
The subtle warmth that had blanketed the air shattered like thin ice smashed by a hammer.
"What, why? Make me cough it up? You aren't gonna claim you didn't skim, right? Got the receipts from the center?"
"Center?"
"Ah, pocketed."
"......"
Evelyn stared at Aster, her eyelids twitching. A glint of contempt flickered in her eyes.
But her reaction was honest, at least.
"Then... I'll put it to good use."
"Right? You skimmed."
Crack, crack.
Aster rolled his neck side to side, cracking his knuckles. Menacing bone snaps echoed through the space.
That's when the alarm blared in Evelyn's head.
- Evelyn, this guy's the real deal—he bites.
"Ah, what? You said you'd let it go. Was that a leading question? How can you talk out both sides of your mouth? And it wasn't skimming—it was strictly an emergency reserve..."
"First off, I quit being human. So two-faced is fine. Second, emergency reserve?"
A thick smile spread across Aster's lips. Madness glinted in his eyes. He stepped closer, one foot at a time.
Fear bloomed across Evelyn's face.
"Time for rehab."
"......"
"Don't worry. Skimmers only wise up after a beating. You're lucky—Damian's not around."
Evelyn realized it all over again.
'His mindset's just... different from normal people.'
Truth be told, she hadn't left the money to skim.
She'd kept meticulous, transparent ledgers for the eventual report. No double books.
Sure, when he'd said he'd overlook it, she'd been tempted to pocket it...
"Here, the ledgers. Let me show you—"
Evelyn urgently brought up the ledgers.
That's when Aster let out a short bark of laughter.
"Kidding, kidding. You think I distrust you that much?"
His earlier menace evaporated like a lie as he flashed a pure smile.
Aster shook his head and stepped back. Evelyn couldn't help but wonder.
'That was... really just a joke, right?'
Well, of course. How could anyone be that twisted—
"Oh, right—but you did keep ledgers?"
"......"
"Ahem. It's not that I don't trust you. You went to the trouble, so checking 'em out feels like the proper thing."
Evelyn's eyes.
99% contempt.
"But why're your eyes like that?"
"Ah, just hit me already."
Evelyn was gradually getting used to Aster.
* * *
The rumor that started with the ladies soon spread far and wide among relic collectors.
Word reached not just Hazen's collectors, but even nobles from other regions with an interest in relics.
Evelyn threw herself into auction prep while steadily doling out fresh info to keep the buzz alive.
Starting the fire had been tough—after that, it was easy.
No extra effort needed; the noble houses sent their own people to the second Black-White Slums to verify the rumors themselves.
And so, the whispers about the second Black-White Slums spread like wildfire.
......And.
At one of Goldrin's branches.
"Hmm. Call it coincidence?"
Vasilin de Planche read the report on the second Black-White Slums, curling his lip.
"Such a stir, right at this timing... hmm."
He seemed displeased, setting the papers down and tapping the table before looking up.
"Which rat's sniffing around?"
Right now, relic collectors were caught in some bizarre rivalry centered on the second Black-White Slums.
Spreading the rumor was one thing—but deliberately fanning competitive flames? That took real insight into how the wealthy ticked.
Even with that knowledge, hitting the right nerves was another matter entirely.
"Coincidental. Far too coincidental. You think Black-White Slums trash could dream this up? Vitin, what do you think?"
"Hard to say without knowing your angle."
"We're eyeing the second Black-White Slums, and now someone's sticking their nose in. Too neat, don't you think?"
"......"
Vitin stayed silent.
He spoke soon enough.
"If you're fretting over Miss Evelyn, that's overkill."
"The second's near Hazen. And Hazen's got Jenion Academy. What if a cornered Evelyn latched onto it?"
"No chance. Once Goldrin pulls backing, she's just a sharp-eyed academy kid with a nose for business."
"Still rubs me wrong."
Vitin replied in clipped, businesslike tones.
"Can't just take her out, though."
"Hmm, true. Tsk—just offing her would simplify things... or tail her, nip it in the bud."
Sadly, Father's policy forbade it.
He offered no aid to kids out of the succession race—but he didn't cut them totally loose, either.
Minimal protection, enough to survive on their own merits. For Vasilin, an infuriating directive.
'I could if I wanted... but not yet.'
He hadn't fully absorbed Evelyn's forces.
Dealing with her came later—after he'd shored up his position... and finally eclipsed Father. Or once interest in her died down.
Vasilin knew it well, but the irritation lingered.
In his sour mood, he smacked his lips—then a visitor knocked.
Knock knock.
"Come in."
One attendant entered.
He bowed deeply, then delivered his report.
"'The Guest' has departed."
"Hmm."
Vasilin shifted at the news.
'The Guest' was coming.
That alone erased all thoughts of Evelyn.
Why wouldn't it?
That 'Guest' had bolstered his shaky position—hell, top contributor to toppling Evelyn in the first place.
"Vitin, step up your game."
"...Noted."
"Good—remember it. Now, let's go. Looks like I'll handle the Guest welcome myself."
Vasilin left the office.
And at that very hour.
......A mage from the Decullan Family was en route to Goldrin.