Chapter 2
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: So Much to Prepare
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There's so much to prepare.
Sure enough, being a medieval isekai world and all.
The main stage of [Vengeful Goddesses].
The capital market of the Abellan Empire—which boasted the strongest in the entire world setting—was louder, more chaotic, and more alive than any traditional market I'd ever seen back in Korea.
The streets were thick with the mingled scents of spices and beastly musk, hitting me with every breath and screaming, "Ah, this is a real isekai."
Peddlers shouted their haggling at the top of their lungs, beastkin merchants drew crowds with their distinctive accents, and humans, beastfolk, dwarves, and elves swirled together in a whirlwind right before my eyes.
The bizarre items I'd only read about in the novel.
Glowing crystals, toys powered by magic, jewelry made from dragon scales, suspicious herbs reeking of blood.
All of them clawed fiercely at my attention.
"Um... Young Master."
Karen whispered in a voice laced with mockery.
"If there's anything you need, you could just send me to fetch it. Why bother disguising yourself and coming to the market in person?"
"Ah, just~ maybe I've been cooped up in the house too long."
I gave her a casual grin in reply.
"Felt like getting some fresh air for once."
Me, with my cloak hood pulled low, and Karen trailing warily behind.
We looked every bit the suspicious pair of nobles slumming it incognito.
Karen's tone pretended concern, but knowing how she dies in the original story, I could tell it was all just probing.
From the moment we stepped out of the Argent estate, it felt like eyes were on me.
The illegitimate son who'd always been a total shut-in must have thrown her off with his sudden change.
But that suspicion was a perfect weapon for me right now.
When we left the mansion, the maids and knights who'd always ignored me flat-out cleared the way without a word at the sight of Karen's icy glare.
They were dodging any potential fallout, no doubt.
'If some idiots picked a fight on the way, I was planning to smack 'em around myself and scare off any more trouble.'
Thanks to that, it was smooth sailing from the front gate, into the carriage, and all the way to the market.
"Our Young Master would be so heartbroken if he didn't get to visit the market today—what's a mere goods manager to do? Gotta take good care of him~."
Besides, to the core members of the Argent Family, an illegitimate son like me was less than nothing.
As long as I didn't drop dead, they'd walk right past me with a casual, "Whoa, felt a breeze."
Today was one of those days where I could do whatever, as long as I made curfew.
I wandered the market with Karen in tow, picking up all sorts of goods.
"Boss, I'll take this... and this... oh, and this too."
"Huh? These are all for ferocious beasts—traps, gear, ingredients. Young Master, isn't this a bit dangerous?"
"Nah~, just some nice decor for the house. You know, interior design stuff."
What I bought boiled down to exactly three categories.
Beast traps.
Poison herbs for hunting beasts.
Meat. More meat. And big chunks of meat.
Not the kind of haul any disguised noble young master would pick out.
The merchants couldn't hide their "Why's this kid buying this...?" faces every time I ordered.
Karen was no different.
"Young Master."
She eyed me up and down like she resented even breathing the same air.
"Just so you know, you're not allowed to keep any animals."
The family wouldn't let even beasts side with me.
She flung it in my face like it was the most natural thing in the world.
But the funny part?
"I know."
I never planned to in the first place.
"Who said anything about raising some annoying pet?"
"...Pardon?"
Karen's face went completely blank.
With all that gear, it looked like I was gearing up to trap a few mountain beasts and make a cage, but then I say I won't keep animals—and her brain short-circuited.
Seeing that expression cracked me up.
Yeah, keep standing there dumbfounded.
I'm in the middle of preparing to ditch this trash family in ways you can't even imagine.
"Put it on the Argent Family tab. You tell the merchants."
"Y-Yes?! No way... As if the family has money to waste on the likes of you...!"
"Then watch me get called a thief and beaten for not paying up."
"Grr...!"
I could practically hear her grinding her teeth without even turning around.
What're you gonna do about it?
If it bothers you that much, you be the illegitimate young master.
And no money for me in the family? What a joke.
Sure, compared to the official heirs, what trickles down to me is less than dust.
But at least half Argent blood flows in my veins—that much is fact.
So why did the original Lucas Argent live like a beggar, scraping by on stale bread scraps, turning into the textbook weakling archetype with his scrawny build?
The reason was painfully simple.
Even an illegitimate son is a "product to sell off someday." No need to starve him on purpose.
Unless, of course, there was one thing.
Someone behind the scenes skimming my share the whole time.
Like, say, my "dedicated" maid here, or the cook, or whoever the family head assigned with a casual "Take care of him decently~"—folks who didn't fear their master enough to steal my entire allotment.
'Fuck... No telling how much they've siphoned off all this time.'
But whatever, it's fine.
Soon enough, I'll make them puke it all back up under the name of "debt."
We were looping through the market when lunchtime rolled around.
Even for my dedicated maid trailing me like this, I'd decided to play the "nice master" now.
After cracking the whip, time for the carrot.
"Karen. Thanks for putting up with my whims and following me. This skewer's on me, so eat up."
"P-Pardon? Ah... Yes. Thank you...."
Karen took the skewer and stood there blankly for a while.
Morning: the Young Master slapping his own face and threatening her.
Market: buying beast-hunting gear.
Now: grinning warmly and buying her a skewer.
Her face screamed she couldn't follow the script.
But deep down, watching me stuff my face in the middle of the market, cheeks smeared with grease and grinning like an idiot, she probably concluded:
Still just a brat.
A kid who perks right up the moment you stuff something in his mouth.
'No matter what you're scheming, I'll drag you right back in the end.'
...Or so she thought, pretending to play along as she took a bite.
And—
That was the opening shot of my plan.
Wobble.
"...Uh... Hmm?"
"Whoa, Karen, you okay? You look kinda unsteady."
"Ah, yes... Must be the heat... I'm a bit tired...."
"Then let's wrap up shopping here and rest at that teahouse nearby. I could use a drink anyway."
"Ah... Should we...? Yeah... Let's do that...."
Trailing behind me, Karen's steps were off by a full beat, like she'd knocked back a drink—anyone could see it.
I propped her up like I was just keeping her from falling and headed to a quiet, out-of-the-way teahouse on the market's edge.
The door opened to a faint herbal aroma.
"Hello. Got a private room? My companion looks beat."
"Yes? Oh, sure... We do. Right this way to an upstairs room."
"And orders too. Cromian Mocha for our room, one Purple Hytry as well."
"......Understood."
Propped against me, Karen staggered up the stairs.
And the moment the room door opened—
"Sleepy... I'm gonna crash... Don't go anywhere, Young Master...."
Thud.
She face-planted onto the bed and passed out cold.
Her breathing was already fully relaxed.
I confirmed she was out, then quietly gripped the door handle and stepped out.
The second the door shut.
"Hello?"
"...Who the hell are you?"
The man from the counter—who'd handed us the room key earlier and clashed hard with the teahouse vibe—waited outside, arms crossed.
A long scar trailing from one eye.
But wearing a floral apron.
The mismatch only made him more menacing.
"How'd a brat like you know our 'code' and order it?"
"Code? I just ordered two drinks."
"Don't play dumb."
The manager stepped forward with a low growl.
"No teahouse serves Cromian Mocha and Purple Hytry. That's the combo for a 'sleep poison recipe'—knocks out even the fiercest beast in seconds flat."
I chuckled inwardly.
Bingo.
Spot on.
The skewer I'd fed Karen earlier was laced thin with Cromian and Purple Hytry—the herbs beast hunters slather on arrowheads.
Each causes strong paralysis on its own.
Popular as a go-to knockout for hunters to stun and butcher prey on the spot.
But it kicks in so fast, the target knows they got hit the instant it lands.
Useless for "assassination."
Just an obvious paralytic that gives itself away on people.
But who knew?
Mix those two paralytics in a precise ratio, and you get the exact opposite.
No sudden shutdown—instead, strength fades gradually, like dozing off in the sun. A perfect sleeping pill.
Indistinguishable from fatigue or heat to anyone watching.
So Karen was out cold, face buried in the bed.
The catch? That recipe was a secret combo known only to one shadowy group.
"How does a kid like you know and use our organization's internal code recipe?"
The floral-aproned manager stared down at me, eyes unyielding.
No mercy in that face.
Pure killing machine.
His presence gripped my throat before his words could.
One wrong word, and he'd make me vanish right here—no one would bat an eye.
'Damn... Slack off even a little, and I'd puke from the tension.'
Even me, who'd scrapped in back alleys and manual labor in my past life, felt my knees buckle. His killing intent was another level.
But—
Hesitate here, and I'd be the "eul" forever.
My status as the Argent bastard already gave them plenty of reason to look down.
Fold now, and Lucas would never lift his head again.
So I tilted my chin up instead.
Like a madman.
Like a guy hanging on by sheer pride.
Grin.
"......You laughing?"
The manager's face twitched for the first time.
Meanwhile, I played it cool—guts hollow, but rattling loud on the outside like a flashy empty cart—and shot back casually.
"Why should I tell some underling?"
"...What?"
The air twisted cold in that instant.
But I decided to shake the cart harder.
"I'll deliver that message to Her Highness the Princess myself."
"?! You little—!"
"So shut up and guide me to the secret base hidden under this teahouse."