Chapter 90
Chapter 90
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 90
Chapter Title: The Absolute Banquet (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Imperial Infirmary, Golden Pavilion.
In the VIP suite there, the delicate aroma of black tea wafted through the air.
"It's just a little cut on my arm, and they make me check in... Who knew the cool-headed Princess had this side to her."
I took a sip of tea, my hand wrapped in bandages.
Then, quietly savored the next day's newspaper from the tournament.
My interview photo took up the entire front page.
But the artist had added some weird embellishments, making my eyes look even more sinister than usual.
'Journalists are the same no matter the world.'
'What the hell is this nonsense? When did I ever say that?'
Words I never said had been twisted and printed in black and white.
Thanks to that, the Minster family's infamy was sure to skyrocket even higher.
But unexpectedly, the journalists' fake news started working in my favor.
"Derek Minster, the group head, toppling the Holy See's top knight has made their security philosophy shine brighter than ever."
"With word spreading that the highly popular Wolf Boys are also his handiwork, demand has exploded not just from noble ladies but from male clients too."
My victory seemed to have sparked explosive growth for the security firm bearing my name.
Guess that's why my worthless brothers sent flowers and cash.
Never thought I'd see the day my name outranked royalty in the news.
Still, my sister's expression in the photo below didn't look upset at all.
She looked positively benevolent and joyful in her interview.
'An important figure, huh...'
What more important could I get? In the Empire, barring royalty, everyone's pretty much on the same level.
I'd lived as Imperial Prime Minister in a past life, so I'd tasted the peak of noble life.
Sure, I'd love to try being royalty too, but that's impossible by birth, so I'll settle for this.
Jormungandr? What the hell is that—talk about grandiose.
I snorted in disbelief.
'Yeah, this is plenty. Just keep my head down, hold onto the warden job, and I'm good.'
With that thought, I turned the front page.
As I scanned the rest of the news...
"These bastards are a pain every damn loop."
I'd been enjoying it until my brows furrowed sharply.
A bold interview taking direct shots at me.
The source was the "Walter Group," a corporate alliance.
These guys were names I could never forget across four regressions.
Minefields of a group that caused trouble every loop.
Back when Anje brainwashed the masses to destroy the Empire, the hatred and rage from those mobs stemmed from these corporations.
Even after I killed Anje in later loops, their villainy continued.
During my time as Prime Minister, when the Princess was assassinated sparking civil war, these parasites fueled the fight and profited handsomely.
They couldn't care less about the nation's survival—just stuffing their own pockets.
When I investigated their crimes and corruption with my authority, the paperwork was staggering.
In my most recent loop as an assassin, I killed a few, but the slippery bastards hid successors who kept embezzling.
'Still a long way to a happy ending.'
Right now, I'm holding the direct culprits of doom as prisoners.
But someday, these guys could plant seeds for a new bad end.
Just imagining it made my neck prickle.
"Sigh... Now that my sword hand's back in form, maybe I should just wipe them all out."
I muttered with serpentine eyes.
Then, footsteps echoed from the ornate golden door.
"Come in."
The door opened, and a woman with lush golden hair entered.
Princess Camillia, just as in the interview photo.
"You seem different today."
Not in her usual white uniform, but slacks and a dress shirt that cinched her waist, elegantly accentuating her voluptuous curves.
"I don't wear the uniform every day. Took half a day off today."
Casual as if in everyday clothes.
She crossed her arms, stepping close to my side.
"How's your body?"
"Much better, thanks to you."
Truth be told, it was just a shallow cut on my hand—no need for admission.
But the Princess insisted, so here I was.
"Stay a few more days anyway."
"Is that necessary? I've got the prison to run."
"Winning's got journalists and nobles swarming to meet you."
"So you're isolating me here."
I smirked at her deeper intent.
She paused, then nodded.
"Something like that. I'll send you back once things quiet down."
"Not complaining. Bed's plush, food's top-notch."
I gestured to the tea and figs on the table.
Things I'd enjoyed often as Prime Minister, but a rare treat this life.
Spending all my time at the prison with my refined tastes had been torture.
"I can make sure you enjoy the good life from now on."
She gave me a mature big-sister look, eyes narrowing.
But meeting my gaze, she snapped back to cool sovereign.
"No visitors, though. I didn't block anyone specially."
Actually, I'd sent letters to the prison and Minster Group barring visits.
With Clea gone too, who knows what chaos might ensue.
"Haha... Yeah, what a wasted life."
As I chuckled dryly, Camillia eyed the vase on the table.
Her finger nudged a pair of friendly roses.
"Should've at least gotten married. Aren't you at that age?"
Her blue eyes flicked over me.
I laughed it off casually.
"Who'd date this face? Ridiculous."
"You'd meet someone if they asked?"
Why ask that?
I tilted my head, and she cleared her throat lightly.
"Now officially my aide, people might wonder."
Ah, that angle.
Marriage was a solid way to expand alliances in this era.
Was she planning to introduce me to some house's daughter?
To marry me in and solidify her faction.
"Well..."
I'd avoided marriage in past loops because it got in the way.
Stopping doom meant reckless gambles; family bred hesitation.
'How to spin a plausible excuse.'
With her sharp personality, a firm no was safest.
"Got dumped once before. Haven't wanted anyone since."
I played the heartbroken card.
Her hand on the rose froze.
"Dumped...?"
"Yeah. Poured my heart into a confession, got shot down lightly. Can't think of other women since."
Silence stretched in the room.
She stood like a statue for a long while.
"D-Dumped, you say."
"Pardon?"
After an eternity, she muttered.
I reflexively asked back; she slowly shook her head.
"You sure it was a proper rejection? Might not have been a firm no."
Oh no...
She'd probably already lined up some house for me.
Time to double down.
"No, classic rejection. Said she'd reply later—still waiting."
I gazed wistfully out the window.
A red sunset rippled beautifully outside.
"...If she contacts you again, would you change your mind?"
Camillia's voice turned deadly serious.
Almost considerate.
"Of course. I'm fixated on her alone."
I turned to her, evoking longing for a fictional love.
Backlit by the sunset, I smiled brightly.
"If not, I'll look for new ties, but it'll take time."
My halo had erased the dark circles completely.
"Understood. I'll report to the court—rest up."
She whipped around and left.
Had my firm no pissed her off?
Worried, I watched her back intently.
'Did I come on too strong? Her ears are red...'
Camillia left with an uncharacteristic gait.
No footsteps after the door shut.
Probably deep in thought over derailed plans.
I get it—even as Prime Minister, Prince Ivan hounded me to marry into his line.
Royalty isn't all ease.
Lounging in luxury forever's no simple life.
Daydreaming that fantasy life I crave, I lay back and closed my eyes for early sleep.
"........."
Camillia, left alone in the hall.
She stood before the door, lost in thought.
"I... never rejected him."
She bit her gloved finger, like a restless lion nipping.
"Does he think that was a roundabout rejection?"
She exhaled deeply.
Like a flawless battlefield commander facing an unexpected variable.
"Is that why he's been meeting more ladies lately?"
Camillia sensed the women around the warden weren't coincidence.
That her youthful first love might end there.
"Can't let that happen."
Back to steely sovereign eyes.
Resolved amid urgency, she strode down the hall.
"Time I got serious too."
That night.
Waking from a nap, I checked the clock.
'Just 8 PM. Only two hours.'
Assassin habits meant I couldn't sleep long.
Always tired despite nightly rest.
These damn dark circles showed no sign of fading.
"Sigh... Nothing major happened, right?"
I dragged my sluggish body to the desk.
Picked up piled letters and papers.
"Two hours, and all this fun stuff piles up."
Monitoring doom's seeds required top intel.
Scanning the news, my sly eyes widened at the huge scoop.
"What...? What happened while I was out?"
The parasitic conglomerates tormenting me every loop had self-destructed.
But the real shock was just beginning.
One letter amid the news.
The envelope bore the ornate imperial seal.
Bewildered, I carefully opened it.
Read the first line.
And clutched my forehead.
The Emperor's younger brother and sisters.
The Empire's loftiest royals...
Had suddenly summoned me to dinner.
"Why the hell do they wanna have dinner with me...?"
With the prickliest, most ruthless ones at that.