Chapter 6. Change in Perception (1)
Episode 6. A Shift in Perception (1)
After completing an absurdly intense training session.
I returned to my room.
Plop.
I sank my exhausted body into the bathtub.
"Maybe I pushed myself too hard."
I had no choice. Though brimming with magical talent, my swordsmanship aptitude was lacking. Training was the only way to bridge that gap.
Fortunately, one of the eccentric doctors from the Resistance in my previous life had devised an incredible method for post-training recovery.
Tap—tap—
I dropped crushed blue-green herbs—Isgrine—onto the bathwater.
Psssh—
The finely ground herbs spread like mist, clinging to my body.
The medicine seeped through my skin as accumulated waste products were flushed out more efficiently.
I could feel every cell being purified. Fresh blood circulated through the cleansed cells, saturated with nutrients.
Vitality returned to each cell, and mana settled into my revitalized body.
Fatigue melted away.
Energy surged anew.
"Haaah..."
Not just anyone could do this. Only two types of beings could recover like this:
Mages who had formed a Holy Wheel.
Knights who had developed their Cores.
Knights were rare—perhaps one in a thousand trained soldiers—but mages were even scarcer. Meaning, I had now far surpassed ordinary soldiers. But...
"Still not enough."
I recalled the days before the regression. On the day of the world's destruction, knights and mages died like flies. Our enemies were vaster than all of humanity combined.
'I can't afford to be picky about methods.'
I lowered my head and gazed at the bathwater. Bubbles floated lazily on the surface.
Reflected in them were the faces of those I had to kill—and those I had to save.
I would kill every last one who deserved it. But I couldn't save everyone who deserved to live. For the greater good, I had to choose who lived.
My shoulders felt heavy.
Though countless thoughts swirled in my mind, I decided to focus on what I could do now.
What I needed to cultivate from this moment onward was strength. More strength. And yet more strength. I had to grow stronger.
And—
Strength wasn't just about individual combat prowess.
Wealth, connections, knowledge—it was the sum of all capabilities. I had to develop power in every aspect.
All for one singular ideal.
To prevent the destruction.
After finishing my bath, I changed into a clean suit. Then, I summoned Roman.
"Roman, organize and bring me the details of my assets and accounts."
Roman brought the documents, and I quietly counted the zeros written on them.
"1.74 billion Jeni? How much did I start with?"
"15 billion Jeni, young master."
The inheritance left by my late mother and the funds granted by the family upon my coming of age.
"And this is all that's left now?"
"...Yes, young master."
Roman averted his eyes, as if wary of my reaction, but this wasn't his fault. It was mine.
"1.7 billion Jeni..."
Not a small sum by common standards.
The average annual income in the Northern territories was 25 million Jeni.
But in just two years, 13.3 billion had evaporated.
'I really lived a disgustingly wasteful life, huh.'
All because of Guseto. That bastard. Just thinking about him pisses me off.
And now he's even sent me a letter. Another party, inviting me over. Claiming he's secured something really good just for me.
Piece of shit.
His game is obvious.
He'll try to crush my self-esteem, saying things like, "Sion, this luxury item suits you," or "Wear this, and women will line up for you."
In my past life, consumed by inferiority, I fell for his tricks—buying cheap knockoffs while believing they were genuine. Pathetic.
But.
Not anymore.
"Roman. Transfer 10 million Jeni to your account."
"Yes, young master. Huh? ...I mean, yes?"
Roman was so stunned he could only blink in confusion.
I smiled gently at his reaction.
"It's fine. To me, it's just the price of a biscuit."
"But even so, how could I possibly—"
I stepped closer and firmly grasped his trembling hand.
"Consider this a bonus. You'll be running even more errands for me from now on."
"...Ah."
Roman bowed deeply.
"I pledge my unwavering loyalty!"
His loyalty was already absolute. But I said it anyway.
Money was a double-edged sword—it could save lives, but it could also destroy them.
"Roman, bring me a map of the North."
"Yes, young master!"
Somehow, Roman's voice sounded louder. Must be the taste of money.
Rustle—
The map unfurled across the desk. My finger traced past the capital, Seyren, and stopped at the northwestern mountain range.
The site where high-purity magic stone veins were discovered in my past life. The future source of my funding.
I didn't remember the exact location, so I pointed to the general area.
"Investigate the land prices for this part, this part, and here in the Croem Mountains."
Even if I found the veins, I couldn't immediately mine and sell the magic stones.
I needed mining permits, hired miners, housing for workers, and factories to refine the ore—so the more land, the better.
"Understood, young master."
Roman didn't ask for reasons. He never had. He was someone who carried out my orders without question.
"And find out when the next auction is being held in Seyren."
"Yes."
My greatest weapon was information. I had to leverage it aggressively to make money.
Money was always useful, but now more than ever. Changing the future required far greater funds.
And Roman was the rare kind of subordinate who would follow my decisions without doubt.
'I'll make sure to reward him more soon.'
After sending Roman away, I organized the events that would unfold in the future. Before launching multiple ventures, I listed the necessary talents and strategized how to recruit them.
'Hmm...'
I was still short on funds. Severely.
Even if I lowballed the land prices, my current capital wouldn't be enough.
But it wasn't impossible.
The second ruin in the underground caverns—
[The Fire-Ice Dragon Dungeon].
It was said to yield Sunstones.
Ah, but before that...
"Guess I should make an appearance."
Since that bastard Guseto went through the trouble of throwing a party.
I wore a black suit and a fedora, with an expensive sword at my waist.
Of course, it was nothing compared to Gram, the Hero's Sword I wielded in my past life—but back then, heroes were dropping like flies, so legendary weapons were practically littering the streets.
'For now, this will have to do.'
I stepped out of the mansion.
Unlike the perpetually temperate interior, a brutal blizzard raged outside.
Summer blizzard?
In the North, blizzards weren't uncommon even in summer. A geographical quirk—no one knew why, but that's just how it was.
Roman, bundled in thick fur, opened the car door.
"After you."
A car prepared by the family. Another invention from the Central Empire around this time, fueled by melted magic stones.
I naturally took the back seat.
"Destination: the Daikah Count's private villa. You know where it is?"
"Yes, young master."
Roman drove. His driving was... rough. Every turn sent me lurching—his skills were abysmal.
'I should hire a dedicated chauffeur soon.'
As the car rattled along, we soon arrived at the Daikah villa.
I stepped out and approached the villa. Knock knock.
A gruff voice answered from inside.
"Who is it?"
"It's me. Sion Karsen."
Creeeak—
The door opened. A rough-looking gatekeeper grinned brightly.
"Welcome. Young Master Guseto has been expecting you."
Though his smile was polite, his aura was sharp. A wandering knight, no doubt—likely a combat asset assigned to Guseto by Count Daikah.
I entered without a word.
Inside, the villa was oppressively warm, a stark contrast to the blizzard outside. The scent of expensive perfume mixed with strong alcohol, dizzying the senses.
A den of debauchery—where my past self reveled in pleasure, only to sink deeper into ruin.
"Hey! Sion! You made it!"
Guseto approached from afar, arms spread wide. A slimy smile curled on his lips. Today, it looked especially repulsive.
"Move your face. You're making me sick."
His expression froze momentarily before relaxing back into a bright smile. A master of masking—impressive, in a twisted way.
"Haha, always joking. Here, your favorite—Iruna Noble. Have a drink!"
I sat beside him and downed the Iruna Noble. It was always good.
"How is it? Not bad, right?"
"Sure."
"Great. This party's for you, so enjoy yourself."
"Pass. I have to leave soon. Didn't you say you had something to show me?"
"Huh? Oh... Right. Well, if you're busy... Anyway, I really did bring something perfect for you."
Guseto smoothly brushed off my words and pulled out a small case from his coat.
He whispered in my ear.
"Took a lot of effort to get this."
Click. The case opened, revealing a gemstone ring glowing red.
"The Heart of the Flame Dragon—smuggled from the Central Empire. Sion, isn't this exactly the kind of treasure befitting the third son of the Great Karsen Family?"
"......"
I silently studied the ring.
In my past life, I would've been moved to tears, emptying my wallet without hesitation. But unfortunately, I'd seen the real Flame Dragon's Ring before.
A genuine artifact once owned by a Resistance comrade. Compared to that, this was worse than trash.
I picked up the ring and held it under the dazzling lights.
"How much?"
Guseto beamed.
"Just 800 million Jeni—for you, my friend. What are friends for?"
I stifled a scoff. A few more of these, and my remaining fortune would be gone.
I clenched the ring and pressed my fist against Guseto's chest.
Tap.
"Hey."
"...Huh?"
"You think I'm a joke?"
"...What?"
His face twisted. No amount of composure could hide it now. But I didn't stop.
Tap.
I struck his chest again. Not hard, but laced with killing intent and pressure.
No need for elaborate words.
He must've heard the rumors—how I took down Yoen Hashiman. Silence was the greatest threat here.
Tap. Tap.
I continued.
Guseto's expression darkened. And? He had to keep up appearances—I didn't.
I was from a Grand Duke's family. He was just a Count's son.
"You scammer. Got any pride left?"
"...You're going to regret this."
He tried to bluff. Back then, he was my only "friend," and he leveraged that shamelessly.
The world's about to end soon.
How pathetic.
I set the ring down and took another drink. The alcohol tasted off.
"All the crap I bought from you adds up to 8 billion Jeni. Had them appraised—all worthless."
"...!"
For a moment, panic flashed across his face. But soon—
"Ha! So that's it? Wow, the third son of the Great Karsen Family, petty over this? Tch. Your family name must be weeping."
He doubled down, trying to exploit my insecurity and inferiority.
Right.
My reputation was still at this level.
Glaring and threats alone wouldn't work. But—that didn't overshadow my family's standing.
"You. Remember when you embezzled from the Northern liquor trade your family managed and got caught by the comptroller?"
"...!"
Guseto glanced around, afraid someone might hear. But everyone was too drunk to care.
"What—what are you—"
"And then you killed the comptroller to cover it up."
"...You. What proof do you have?"
None. He'd drunkenly confessed it to me. But it didn't matter. Criminals always cracked under the slightest pressure.
"You think I joined the Inspection Bureau for fun?"
Mixing truth with lies.
A blunt threat.
That's all it took for scum like him.
"Bullshit! There's no way—"
"Hey."
My dry tone drained the color from his face.
Without changing expression, I placed a hand on his shoulder. Tap. Lightly.
His pupils shook uncontrollably.
"Believe it or not, up to you. But—my father doesn't forgive the murder of public officials."
My father. The head of the Karsen Family. The Northern Grand Duke. Under that weight, Guseto's eyelids trembled.
Finally, I dragged a finger across my throat.
"S-Sion, why are you—"
"Cut the crap."
I shut him down coldly.
"12 billion Jeni. Have it ready by tomorrow. That covers the scams and the embezzled funds."
"......"
12 billion Jeni—likely every liquid asset he had.
But he had no choice. If he wanted to live, he'd cough it up.
"Answer me."
He gnawed at his lip.
His face had turned ashen.
Finally, he forced out a reply.
"...Fine."
Looking at him now, the lavish party felt even more ridiculous.
"From now on, address me formally. Unless you want to die."
I turned and walked out without looking back.