Chapter 254: The Dagger
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 254: The Dagger
Lower District, Restaurant Jacob.
Night pearls emitted a faint, ethereal glow, dotting the room like stars. In the intentionally dim environment, special smokeless candles flickered like spirits blinking in the deep night.
At the very center of the restaurant stood a prominent small stage, though its lights were currently low. Amidst the quiet atmosphere, classical music flowed softly from a phonograph tucked away in a corner.
Led by a waiter, Sean and Muen arrived at their reserved table. Sean placed his top hat and coat on a nearby rack, glanced toward the center of the restaurant, and said with a note of relief, "It seems we aren't late."
"Late or not, what does it matter?" Muen said with a stiff expression. "I’m only here to sample the skills of a chef from the palace. As long as there’s food, isn't that enough?"
"Haha, naturally."
After asking about Muen’s preferences, Sean summoned the waiter and meticulously selected the restaurant’s most famous signature dishes, earnestly insisting that the head chef must prepare them personally.
Sensing something unusual in Sean’s solemn gaze, the waiter nodded respectfully and departed. Sean let out a soft breath, turned back, and asked with a smile, "What does Young Master Campbell think of this place?"
"Just call me Muen." Muen rubbed his chin, his gaze sweeping across the restaurant. "It’s not bad."
"Not bad..." Sean sighed in relief. "That’s good. To be honest, I’ve never sat at the same table as someone of your status, Muen... Young Master Muen. I’m actually quite nervous."
"No need for that. I’m not actually that picky." Muen swirled the aperitif the waiter had poured and took a small, graceful sip.
"As expected of the Duke’s son," Sean remarked, sighing again. "You truly are fundamentally different from those other nobles."
"..."
So, how am I supposed to explain to you that as a transmigrator, let alone drinking this second-rate wine, I was prepared to live as a beggar back when I thought the Destruction Ending was imminent?
Muen shook his head and changed the subject. "Speaking of which, I didn't expect Baron Sean to book a table at a restaurant like this in advance."
"Oh?"
"Though it might be rude to say... can your wallet really handle treating me to a meal here?" Muen looked at him with a half-smile, his eyes lingering on the ill-fitting formal suit Sean was wearing.
While the material of the suit wasn't low-grade, it was clearly second-hand. In many tailor shops, such garments were sold at a significant discount. Fallen nobles often bought them to maintain a facade of status.
And while this restaurant couldn't compare to the top-tier establishments of the Upper District, its prices were certainly exorbitant—at least, not something a struggling Baron could easily afford. The position of Magistrate wouldn't make one rich overnight, especially since he had only just received the appointment and hadn't even officially started yet.
"I didn't expect... you to see through it." Exposed by Muen, Sean scratched his head awkwardly and gave a bitter laugh. "You’re right, Young Master Muen. This meal is costing me my entire life savings."
"Which means..."
"However," Sean suddenly interrupted, his tone turning serious. "Please rest assured, Young Master Muen. This meal wasn't arranged specifically to curry favor with you. As I mentioned before, I booked this table long ago. At that time, I had no idea I would meet you."
"Oh? Then why...?" Muen raised an eyebrow in confusion.
"This extra seat was reserved for my wife."
"Your wife?" Muen froze, nearly jumping out of his seat. "You mean, I’m taking your wife’s—"
"No, no, not at all. Please, Young Master Muen, don't worry. You aren't taking her place."
As he spoke, the middle-aged man with graying temples turned to gaze at a bouquet of roses on the table. Unlike the decorations at other tables, these had clearly been placed there with special intent. His eyes filled with profound longing and sorrow.
"After all, it is no longer possible for my wife to ever sit here again."
"..."
Muen’s expression stiffened.
Wait, saying it like that makes me even more uncomfortable, okay?
What was this supposed to mean? The man had spent his life savings to commemorate his deceased wife on this special day, and here Muen was, shamelessly crashing the memorial dinner?
"I think I should probably leave—"
"No, no! Young Master Muen, please... you must stay." Baron Sean suddenly became agitated. He stood up and pressed Muen back into his seat, then awkwardly withdrew his hands, speaking with anxious urgency. "I think... I think she would be very happy to see you sitting here."
"Why?" Muen was utterly bewildered.
This was an important memorial day, yet he was having dinner with another man. If his wife knew from beyond the grave, would she really be happy? Wouldn't she come to haunt him in the middle of the night for a "chat"?
"Because... becoming the Magistrate of the Lower District and dining with the son of the Duke I so admire... it all shows her that after ten long years of struggle, I have finally, finally seen hope."
Sean clenched his fists tightly. On his prematurely aged face, a complex mix of mourning... and hatred suddenly surfaced.
"The hope of avenging her!"
"...Revenge." Muen’s eyes widened in shock.
Wait, this kind of development... could it be...?
"Yes, revenge."
Sean turned to look at the small stage in the center of the restaurant. His gaze grew misty, as if his thoughts were drifting back through time to a distant past.
He seemed to see that moving silhouette again, standing there playing heavenly music, bathed in light, utterly captivating.
Then the image shifted. He saw that same silhouette, pale and bloated from the water, held in his arms, her eyes never to open again.
And he remembered that high-and-mighty Great Noble, a man he could never forget, speaking to him in a mocking tone:
"A dog like you thinks he can topple me?"
Hatred and fury tangled in his heart before being suppressed deep within. He shook his head with a self-deprecating smile.
"I won't spoil your mood by recounting the details in a setting like this, Young Master Muen. I only want you to know that while I may indeed have the desire to please you, and perhaps I truly intend to use the Duke’s influence to achieve my goals... tonight, I only wanted you to sit here so she could see..."
Sean’s hands rested on his knees, his body trembling as if every cell were shivering. But his eyes shone with a light—a light so sharp it was painful to look at.
"Ten years. Ten whole years... I finally have the right to take this first step!"
"..."
The music in the restaurant suddenly shifted, becoming rapid and chilling, like a violent gust of wind.
Muen watched the man in silence.
Though Sean claimed this was only the first step after ten years of effort, anyone could see that it would certainly not be the last. Until his last drop of blood was spent, he would likely never stop.
In that moment, Muen finally understood the deeper meaning behind His Majesty’s sudden promotion of this Baron to Magistrate of the Lower District.
It wasn't just because he was capable, and it wasn't just because he belonged to the Royal Faction united under the Campbell name. It was because of the unquenchable hatred in his heart.
That hatred was like a dagger. If wielded well, it would eventually plunge deep into the hearts of those self-important fools.