Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Became a Squandering Scoundrel - 2
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The parchment that Levin had handed me listed every single person involved in the drug operation.
Among them were quite a few familiar names—all prime culprits in the empire's downfall.
It seemed like they'd disclosed the nobles' details to keep me from getting suspicious, but thanks to that, I'd gotten the perfect chance to wipe them all out in one fell swoop.
Having tipped off the imperial family, those implicated nobles would soon face interrogation.
This would at least buy the empire a little more time before its collapse.
‘But the cult bastards aren't the type to give up after one failure...’
Even if the value of currency would eventually plummet someday, right now, wealth was still king.
Toppling the empire required a fortune, so the Nidhogg Cult was bound to come crawling back to me.
And once they squeezed the money out of me, they'd dive headfirst into the drug trade.
Nothing beat narcotics for rotting the empire from the inside while padding the cult's coffers.
Since getting me onboard through Levin had fallen through, they'd likely switch tactics.
Blackmail, kidnapping, brainwashing—the possibilities numbered in the hundreds off the top of my head.
Pretty much anything except economic retaliation was on the table.
To thwart the Nidhogg Cult's schemes, I desperately needed martial prowess.
‘This cursed body of mine can't get stronger, so my only option is to hire a capable bodyguard.’
I could pick from the knights in the family and make one my guard, but that was one thing I absolutely couldn't do.
Not because their skills were lacking.
The Altesia knights were mostly sellswords lured in by money.
Only a handful were truly loyal to the house, and even those had left to protect the family head.
In other words, blindly assigning one of the knights left at the estate as my guard would just mean they'd sell me out to the Nidhogg Cult for the right price.
‘I need someone who'll swear loyalty solely to me—not the family or my father.’
Martial strength was a given, but if I could add in someone who knew how to operate in the shadows, that'd be ideal.
I had nothing against knights, but too many in Aslon Chronicles were painfully honest types.
I wanted a top-tier powerhouse who could scheme deviously yet stand toe-to-toe with any knight.
"Ugh...!"
The profiles of people matching my criteria were starting to take shape in my mind.
The problem was their whereabouts were all mysteriously vague, and even if I found them, turning them into my man wouldn't be easy.
Hell, one of them was even the assassin who killed Heinz.
Was it okay to recruit the killer from a future I hadn't reached yet?
If I could make him mine, it'd be the best-case scenario.
At the very least, I wouldn't meet that pathetic end I'd watched from beyond the screen.
Though how the butterfly effect might play out was anyone's guess.
‘No time to hesitate.’
Better to act than sit around agonizing.
Missing a golden opportunity while dithering would hurt worse than anything.
I quickly geared up for a casual outing and left my room.
"Young master?"
I ran into Luke the moment I opened the door.
It had dawned on me late, but Luke was Heinz's personal valet, assigned by his real father.
So it wasn't odd running into him often.
That said, since Father had placed him there, he belonged to the family, not me personally.
"I'm heading into town for a bit."
"I-I'll come with you!"
"Do whatever."
I preferred going alone, but refusing him might mean he'd report back to the family head later.
Better to keep him close and gradually win him over.
I wasn't sure exactly when the family head would return, but I had plenty of time.
Even when Heinz died, Count Altesia had been absent.
"Young master, where to today?"
"Unless you want your other cheek swollen too, shut up and follow."
"A-Ah, got it!"
I set out for the village with Luke in tow.
True to form for a merchant noble's territory, the streets buzzed like a bustling marketplace.
But that didn't last. The moment people spotted me, they clammed up and averted their eyes.
As expected of a scoundrel young master—Heinz was shunned by the locals too.
"Should I step in and say something?"
"No. Don't do anything stupid—just keep moving."
You couldn't force a good impression.
Best to prove it through actions, bit by bit.
Even if I tossed money around to improve my image, the villagers wouldn't buy it.
They'd just trash me for blowing the family head's hard-earned cash.
So for now, better to swallow the prickly stares.
I didn't want to ruin the village's peaceful vibe anyway.
"This way."
Y-Young master? That's the slums—infamous for bad security."
"I know."
"It could be dangerous...!"
"Scared? Stay here then. I'll go alone."
Ignoring Luke's protests, I plunged into the dingy alley reeking of rot.
A quick glance back showed Luke trembling but trailing me anyway.
Not much to look at, but it was admirable he'd muster the courage as my personal valet.
"Stick close behind me. If you lag and get jumped, that's on you."
"Y-Yes, sir!"
The alley teemed with eyes on me too.
Beggars, street urchins, drunks, and all sorts of petty crooks.
But none dared touch me.
They knew who I was, living under the Altesia family's protection.
They knew messing with me meant worse than death.
"We're here. This is my destination."
"Isn't this a tavern? You don't mean to get plastered in broad daylight...?"
"Obviously. What, you think I came to do charity?"
I had no intention of drinking, though.
This was a spot I'd frequented in the game whenever I hit a wall.
It looked like your standard dive bar on the outside, but it dealt in more than booze—secret intel too.
Proof? None of the rough-looking guys inside were sloshed.
Under their sharp glares, I beckoned Luke closer.
"Y-Young master! Can't we just go back?"
"Quiet. Buy everyone here a round. Tell 'em it's on me."
"Me?"
"Who else?"
Luke followed orders with a grimace.
Free drinks sparked cheers all around.
The wolfish thugs softened into lambs in seconds.
With money flipping the bar's mood on a dime, I calmly took a stool at the counter.
"What brings the esteemed young master of House Altesia to this humble dump?"
"Here to place a commission, obviously."
"Young master, commissions go to the guild outside the slums—not dives like this."
"The guy's I'm after's gone deep underground, making it a pain. Heard this place specializes in tracking that sort."
The bartender eyed me cautiously, testing if I knew what this place really was.
I sat there coolly, arms crossed, not blinking.
Finally, he spoke.
"Who you looking for?"
"Kizen."
"Kizen? You mean the Kizen who assassinated Viscount Beld and vanished?"
The bartender froze mid-wipe of a glass.
A legend in these circles—natural reaction.
Kizen.
The legendary assassin who slew Viscount Beld, one of the empire's Sword Masters.
But killing a noble came at a steep price: endless pursuit.
Trackers couldn't catch a man who beat a Sword Master, but they had his weakness—a daughter.
They hounded her relentlessly, and one poisoned barb hit home.
She withered away from the toxin.
The trauma turned Kizen into a bloodthirsty maniac, per the game's lore.
‘The assassin who kills Heinz... was Kizen, the killer turned monster...’
I didn't know if his daughter was still alive at this point.
If she was, maybe I could lend a hand.
That's why I was here to commission now.
"Yeah, that's the one."
If you can't beat 'em, recruit 'em.
This time, I'd snag Kizen before the cult did.
"Pay won't be stingy."
With the details laid out, time for the gold.
I plunked a bulging pouch of coins on the counter.
The bartender scowled and sighed.
"Sigh! Young master, how do you expect us to find a retired ghost like—"
Clink!
Second pouch hit the table.
His eyes bulged, grin splitting ear to ear.
"—that we gotta find him! You bet!"
If money can't solve it, you just didn't offer enough.
Enough cash, and they'd bark like dogs if asked.
That's how you use money right.
"Find Kizen and tell me his location?"
"No. Got an item I want delivered to him."
I set down the heaviest pouch yet.
Staring at the glittering piles, the bartender started drooling.
Enough to live off forever—small wonder.
I'd considered chiding his slovenliness but let it slide.
Sealing the deal came first.
"First pouch: commission fee. Second: broker fee and bar tab. Last one: deliver this note with it to Kizen."
"Haha! So generous—don't know where to put myself!"
"Means it's that important."
He lunged to scoop up the pouches.
Before he could, I grabbed his wrist, glaring.
I dropped my voice low.
"Just to be clear: don't even think about tampering with the contents. If I hear otherwise, you know what happens."
"W-Who'd dare? I swear on my life!"
"Good. Take care of it."
"H-Haha... Sure thing..."
That was all I could do.
No guarantees on the outcome.
He might show up as hoped, or they might pocket the cash and ghost.
Still, not pointless. With that much gold, if he came to kill me later, he'd spare me once.
Probably.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ A remote mountain cabin.
The old doctor checking the frail girl's pulse shut his eyes tight.
Turning away, he shook his head as if there was no hope left.
"Kizen, you need to prepare yourself."
"Is there truly no other way? If it means saving Maribel, I'll do anything!"
Kizen clung desperately to the doctor's shoulders.
His unkempt hair and beard mirrored his anguish.
The woman wasting away on the bed was more precious to him than time for self-care.
"Sadly, the poison in Maribel's veins is unique—only curable with a Yurel flower bud."
"But Yurel buds..."
"Are rarer than rare. They fetch enough to build two mansions each."
A forbidden realm, inaccessible to most humans.
The Yurel flower bloomed only once every three centuries in its deepest parts.
So scarce that procuring one yourself was impossible, and buying one? Beyond Kizen's means.
He'd burned through his savings fleeing pursuers after assassinating Viscount Beld.
A wanted man couldn't earn openly, and even if he did, it'd take twenty nonstop years to afford a bud.
"I hate to suggest this, but maybe it's time to let Maribel rest in peace..."
"Shut your mouth, Hayden! Maribel's my only daughter—my whole world!"
"But there's no other way."
Kizen bellowed, then crumpled, clutching Hayden's hand.
His fingers trembled; he knew it was futile hope but couldn't let go.
Tears streamed down his gaunt cheeks to the floor, his lips repeating "Please...!"
"I feel the same. I'd give anything to save my benefactor's daughter, but I can't."
"Ugh...!"
"Blame me all you want if you need an outlet."
Two men chewed on despair before the dying girl.
One pounded the floor in rage; the other hung his head in defeat.
The girl on the bed lay unconscious, her breaths laced with pain.
In that bleak tragic scene...
"Anyone there?"
Thud thud thud!
Someone pounded on their undetectable hideout's door.
Kizen and Hayden's eyes snapped to it.
Normally, Kizen would've beheaded intruders before they knocked, but he had no strength left.
He held his breath, waiting for the next words from beyond.
"Kizen, I have an item to deliver to you."
A gift had arrived for him.