‘Perhaps the Emotional Chasm Between the Two Families Stems from Customs and Traditions.’
A week earlier, after sending the assassin packing, Minoli's offhand remark had given me a crucial hint.
"Maybe the emotional rift between our two families is just due to customs and traditions."
For politicians, hatred on a national scale often serves as a powerful unifying force. By demonizing other nations or ethnic groups, they can rally their own people together.
But for individuals or small groups, it's a different story. Collective hatred, forged through generations of education and propaganda at a national level, carries immense staying power, lingering for centuries. Of course, the grudge between two families that's endured as sworn enemies for so long must run deep too. Even on the Earth I came from, we have stories like Romeo and Juliet. The fact that such tales were hits back then suggests feuds and power struggles between noble houses were commonplace in old Europe.
But blood feuds where you wash blood with blood? Those happen in tribal wars in Africa, not in modern society. At least, not in the world I knew. A highly advanced civilization like Dimension 6-2 shouldn't be much different.
Hatred is an emotion that needs fuel to burn. The two families split centuries ago over a chocolate shop, yet they've kept rivaling each other ever since. In the old days, when legal systems were different, there were duels between family members and injuries on both sides. But in a situation where no one actually died, was their hatred truly deep enough to carry their ancestors' grudge for hundreds of years?
I didn't think so. Their feud lacked fuel.
From what Adijen and Minoli had told me, all the incidents between Vainaus and Leoniab were enough to breed loathing—but not enough to sustain murderous intent centuries later.
Yet the reason people from both families treated each other like mortal enemies was simple: indoctrination, habit, inertia, and delusion.
Once you start seeing the other side as devils, every action feels like a threat. Forget that they're living beings with emotions just like yours, and it's easy to spiral.
Even on Earth, statistics show that the generations after those who fought wars firsthand hate the former enemy nations more. The two families had simply hated each other without real reason.
This incident was just a regrettable outcome of a rivalry that had ossified over time and old grudges flowing on autopilot.
So all we had to do was cut the fuel to that sputtering engine. The method might be a bit forceful, but as long as the result was good, who cared?
"Hey, old timers. Long time no see."
Yohane materialized out of thin air. Like an octopus changing colors at will, he'd shifted his body and reverted to human form.
"What the hell are you doing here...?"
Neither Aliga nor Naper could hide their dismay.
"I told you I was coming over. Said I was canceling the contract."
It was no wonder—even if they hadn't ordered a hit, the ugly truth was out that they'd sent an assassin to sabotage their kids' relationship.
"What is this, Aliga? Why did you hire Yohane...?"
"When the hell did you commission him?"
From the looks of it, neither side had known the other had made the exact same request. They'd probably specified no killing just in case their own kid got caught in the crossfire—or because, hateful as the rivals were, they weren't that hateful.
Either way, it was one hell of a bizarre situation.
"That's enough. We didn't gather you two here to fight."
As I stepped in, both patriarchs' faces hardened.
These two had never learned or bothered to figure out any way to interact besides clawing, biting, and competing viciously in business, personal lives—everything. Telling them not to fight was pointless.
But what if the knife was in our hands? Just so we're clear, the blade I held was razor-sharp. One swing, and it wouldn't just trash their reputations—it would sever ties with their precious youngest kids and nuke centuries of Vainaus and Maison de Leoniab brand value in one go. A strategic nuke of a weapon.
"If you'd rather, I can testify to the press about what you two did. Sound good?"
"……."
"……."
"Of course, Yohane here's interview would make the article too. Something like, 'I was hired by both but turned it down because the pay didn't match the risk.'"
The two chairmen's faces grew paler by the second. Meanwhile, Adijen and Minoli, watching their fathers, desperately stifled their laughter. Colossus, hidden in the ceiling, was monitoring their emotions in real time.
Behind their dignified facades, the patriarchs were masking anxiety and starting frantic calculations.
"What do you want."
As expected, they asked our terms first. Stay in a position of power long enough, and everyone turns like that. No need to propose anything yourself—just pick the best offer on the table.
Asking me "what do you want" was proof of their arrogance. They still thought they held the reins.
Time to shatter that illusion.
The answer was obvious.
"Forget what we want. Isn't it more important for you two to tell this newlywed couple what you can do for them?"
Who do these guys think they are, trying to play used-car salesman? The desperate one makes the offer.
"……."
"……."
The two chairmen clamped their mouths shut, pride wounded. Their gazes shifted to their respective children—Aliga to Minoli, Naper to Adijen—laying on silent pressure.
Normally, their obedient kids would bow and scrape. But not this time.
Sure, some arms dealer had slipped Yohane a lethal weapon mid-job, but the truth remained: both fathers had pressured their kids to break up the marriage.
"By the way, these young folks all know the full story. So no need to squirm and deny it."
The guy who'd taken the deposit and accepted the job sure had some nerve. I'd promised to introduce him to a talented private banker if it went well, and he was thrilled.
"I don't get what the Dimensional Credit Vault wants from us."
Naper spoke up. They were still deluded.
From his words, they thought I'd set this up representing the bank to squeeze concessions from them.
"You're badly mistaken. I asked what you two can do for the newlyweds."
They'd seen my age and Isaac's, figured pressuring underlings would get results. Fat chance.
"The Dimensional Credit Vault has no interest in profiting off Vainaus or Leoniab. I'm here as Assistant Manager Kim Jian—not representing the bank—and Isaac is here as the loan officer and a friend of the couple. This is all our personal initiative, without approval from the president or board. So naturally, all responsibility is mine."
By positioning myself as a bottom-rung bank drone with nothing to lose, I seized the advantage. Their schemes were transparent.
"You already know what we want. As their loan officer, I just hope these clients can escape family pressure and enjoy a happy marriage. Nothing more."
The bank wants nothing. I, as one person, just want client happiness.
Childish words no kid would buy. But they were my honest truth.
"You shouldn't be negotiating with me, a mere banker."
They'd been wrong from the start.
I'd suggested Adijen and Minoli go for the direct confrontation. Bringing their fathers here was their call. They'd already resolved to use this incident as leverage to get what they wanted from their families. Isaac and I were just facilitating a smooth process.
The rest was up to them.
"Your kids' marriage was nearly ruined by your meddling, but it's not too late. Hear what they want directly."
"……."
Only after I finished did the two chairmen truly look at their youngest daughter and son.
Their eyes had been on the kids before, but not really seeing them.
Now, these fathers—wielding immense power—saw new facets in their rebelling offspring: the faces of adversaries.
For the first time, they recognized their "possessions" as equals, as individuals.
"...Insolent brats."
"I've raised wolf cubs."
Harsh words, but both men wore broad grins. Smiles tinged with relief. The arrogant patriarch masks were gone.
Fathers who'd done something foolish because they couldn't bear to let go. That was their true face, hidden till now.
"...Damn punks. Defying me after all this."
"Speak. What do you two want."
Gruff tones, but softer now. Hearing it, the couple exchanged a long look and nodded resolutely.
"We—"
Two months later.
A grand wedding unfolded in Linden, capital of Great Huuriten.
Groom: Adijen Vainaus.
Bride: Minoli Leoniab.
The youngest son and daughter of two chocolate dynasties that had been at each other's throats tied the knot in fateful matrimony. Hundreds of guests graced the ceremony, and reporters flashed away.
I was there too.
"They look happy."
"Yeah."
Coming alone felt awkward, so I'd brought Mira. She was thrilled, dolled up to the nines for someone else's wedding. Anyone would think Adijen was her ex.
"Oh yeah—Oppa, ever thought about marriage?"
"Yep. Planning to have a son and daughter and live happily ever after."
"You have a... girlfriend?"
"Nope."
Mira suddenly ducked her head and coughed. Choked on something?
Anyway, both fathers had to shake hands for the cameras, thanks to the wedding. Grudging smirks, of course. Still, it thawed centuries of enmity a bit, didn't it?
Maybe meddling, but I wanted our loan clients as happy as possible.
The families would keep sparring, but as in-laws now, they'd avoid open brawls for face's sake. The loan went through smoothly, and the couple planned a small chocolate shop in a Linden corner.
"Hey, Mira—you like chocolate?"
"Duh. But why ask outta nowhere?"
"Just—there's tons at the buffet. Want me to grab some?"
"What, you escorting me now?"
"Don't get cheeky."
I pinched her soft brown cheek. She'd given me chocolate last time; maybe I'd buy some as a return gift. Not a bad idea.