The Price of a Soul
As long as one is alive, wealth has a way of persisting. Even if a rich family falls, their influence often lingers for three generations. Under normal circumstances, Professor Bierson and the other three professors should have been reduced to beggars long ago, buried under mountains of debt. Yet, far from being broke, they still possessed significant assets; by any objective standard, they were wealthy.
Even after losing their social standing, gracing the front pages of newspapers for over a month, and being branded as criminals following a royal investigation, their personal wealth remained astronomical. Compared to the total assets of an average commoner village, their holdings were hundreds, sometimes thousands of times greater.
"How on earth did they earn that much money? If you calculate it based on the standard salary of a department head like Bierson, that's a fortune accumulated over two hundred and eleven years and three months of wages."
"Well, obviously, through dirty means, right?"
"Don't say such idiotic things. I'm not talking about the obvious. Think back to the time of Hubel Vintlin."
"Uh... no way."
"The gang that killed my brother, a minor duke, included those very people. Do you really think the bastards who pulled the strings behind the scenes only gave them a pittance?"
"......"
"And who said my brother was their only victim? People who do this kind of work usually start by picking off the weak, one by one, thinking, 'Oh? This is actually easy,' and then they scale up. Before my brother died, many more students must have perished at their hands."
When those in high positions engage in dangerous, dirty work, money naturally flows in proportion. Although the bastards were cornered by a barrage of news reports—a mix of truth and lies—they wouldn't break as easily as Hubel did. Hubel was the second son of a viscount, yet he was a pauper; these people, however, were all pieces of trash who had accumulated substantial wealth. If I were to start investigating their accounts privately, I might leave a trail of my own. But even without digging, it's obvious. There is a ninety-nine percent chance they are tied to multiple murders.
"If you made money off other people's lives, you should give it to the bereaved families, so why is it going into your own pockets? Don't you think?"
"That's... true. But what do you intend to do?"
A life spent thinking they could get away with anything. I just need to let them know that the grudges they've piled up have finally turned into a snowball and are starting to roll.
"It's time to show them that hell isn't far away, on behalf of a lazy god."
Lilit was frustrated.
"If I could just get a little closer, I think I could hear them...!!"
"Your Highness, this is the limit. If we get any closer, we'll be caught like last time."
Stalking with the Clairvoyance magic wasn't perfect. While I could freely observe things at a considerable distance, I couldn't hear them if the distance was too great. However, if I got within a certain range, I could pick up the sound. The problem was that while it used to be easy, the skills of Count Leng Dust, the guard at the minor duke's side, had improved by leaps and bounds over the last few months, making it difficult to get close.
"Geo? Hell...? I think he said hell!"
"The other party must already feel like they are in hell. They are losing all the honor and status they spent their entire lives building."
"Ugh...! That man isn't the type to say things like that."
"Ah. I have a rough guess."
"What do you think he said!?"
"'It's not hell yet,' or 'I'll drag you to hell starting now.' Something like that, perhaps."
"That's it!"
Lilit shouted at Jena's words. Certainly, she had thought that a man like him wouldn't be able to stand the fact that his opponent was still breathing.
"But why go to such lengths? Did Department Head Bierson even kill the minor duke?"
"That's not it. According to what I've looked into separately, Bierson was attending a banquet at another noble's mansion that day."
"He could have had someone else kill him."
"If that were the case, wouldn't the minor duke have found that person and killed them first?"
"Hmm. That's true. Then what about the alibis of the other three?"
"Except for one, everyone has a solid alibi."
"Isn't that one person the culprit? The others are accomplices."
The princess tilted her head at the overly simple prediction. If the culprit was identified, shouldn't he just go and kill them himself? He was that kind of person, after all—a madman who would kill someone and then look for the evidence later. But Jena's thoughts were completely different.
"He is a man obsessed with revenge, but he is a coldly insane man."
"What does that mean?"
"He doesn't hesitate to commit crimes for the sake of revenge that makes the opponent's blood run dry, and he doesn't care if those around him get caught up in it. However, he is thorough in preparing so that he himself does not become a criminal."
"Even if he already knew which of those four was the culprit, and even if he had physical evidence and witnesses, he is a madman who sticks to a method of thoroughly and brutally ruining the opponent's life and everything around them."
"Ugh... I acknowledge that."
Hearing Jena's words, Lilit understood too. He had certainly called himself a demon of revenge, and he was a madman who even told her, a princess, not to get in his way or act up. There was no way such a man, upon finding out who the culprit was, would grant them the kindness of a death that would end their suffering immediately.
"Are you afraid?"
"Yes. I'm scared."
"And yet, you keep watching."
Honestly, watching him, standing in front of him, I'm so scared I almost want to pee. And that's why, that's why it's so...
"That crazy behavior is so chillingly fun! It's thrilling! It's always fresh, so I can't stop watching!"
Just as Carix had said, I realize every time that the martial power he displays is just the tip of the iceberg of his own strength! And Jena felt genuine pity for the princess who enjoyed that sight. This was no longer curiosity about strength; it was bordering on mental illness.
"......Haa."
For some reason, Jena found herself missing Count Leng Dust.
Bierson was sitting in a room in his mansion, breathing heavily, filled with rage.
"This time. Once I resolve this trial, I will definitely find you and pay you back."
He was still confident. Although investigators from the royal family had come and turned his private office and house upside down, taking all sorts of documents as reference material, he wasn't an idiot. Who would leave such things in an obvious place where anyone could come and snatch them?
"Whoever did this, I will definitely... definitely find them and make them regret being born."
However, the damage he had suffered this time was immense. Honestly, it was a fatal wound. He could no longer return to his previous life. The position of department head, which oversaw the professors, was equivalent to a mid-level royal government post. Having been dragged down from such a place for such a disgraceful reason, there was no way he could be reinstated.
"But, but no matter how much I think about it, I don't understand. Where, where did it start to crumble?"
It wasn't that he didn't have enemies capable of waging such a large-scale public opinion war against him. But if they had made such a big move, there was no reason for the other nobles connected to him to have missed it. And the direction was strange, too. The main stream of information released indiscriminately certainly contained some truth, but most of it was false. It was as if they were trying to pin it on him by saying, 'I know you did it, but there's no evidence. But isn't it this? Isn't it that? Isn't it this? Isn't it that?' It felt like facing a mad wizard firing bombardment magic on the battlefield, regardless of friend or foe.
"It... it makes no sense. Even if they are a hostile faction, nobles wouldn't act like this. It's like a child throwing whatever they can get their hands on because they're angry."
The problem was that everything they got their hands on was a blade or a bomb. Anyway, Bierson was spending money to somehow get out of this situation. With the vast wealth he had earned through dirty deeds, he hired the best lawyers, sued or reported all the newspaper companies that had spread strange information, and paid off every place that would publish a correction. He might not be able to return as a department head, but he had many years left to live, and his children's future was at stake. He could never give up like this and live as a criminal.
"Dear. You're okay, right?"
"Hmm, wife. I'm fine. What's the matter?"
"I brought you some healthy tea the children bought for you because they were worried about you. Have a cup. You haven't eaten anything since last night."
"Umm. Thank you."
His two sons were grown, and now it was just him and his beloved wife at home. Bierson could proudly say that although he hadn't lived honestly and uprightly, everything he did was for his family. That was why, even in such a difficult situation, he vowed never to lose for the sake of his wife who stayed by his side, and as he drank the tea she gave him, he calmed his heart...
"My wife... seems to have caught the plague."
"What?"
As if to say that the day his heart would be at ease would never come, every member of his family except for him collapsed.
The easiest way to physically ruin a person isn't by stabbing them, using drugs, or using magic.
"Water is enough."
"That's fascinating."
The four professors, whose lives were ruined by all sorts of agitation and fabrication, and who were branded as criminals and stuck in their homes. I didn't put poison in their well; I put feces in it.
In the memories of my past life, it was a disease that pushed an entire city into the abyss of despair with just water. I did it to gift the bastards a death that didn't even have a proper name in this era.
"But at this rate, instead of a patient's feces, wouldn't they catch the disease just by eating regular feces?"
"It has to be the plague. No other disease will do."
Asking my father, who was at the estate, to collect the diarrhea of a sick person was no big deal. Of course, I received the question, "My son. Are you asking me to collect feces right now?" three times in my letters, but regardless, my father accommodated my convenience, and in the end, I succeeded in putting feces, not poison, into their well.
"But why? Ah. I'm asking because I really don't know even after thinking about it."
"Because this disease makes money."
"Yes? A disease makes money?"
"I'll show you rather than tell you. Go to the Silver Teeth and ask them to dispatch two assassins who are from the church or can act the part. Because the preparations to make money are finished."
Now that I've given them the disease, I have to give them the medicine. And at a very, very cheap, yet expensive price.
The home of former department head Professor Bierson was suffering a disaster. Not only the servants who worked there, but his wife, his sons, and their families. All of them had caught an unknown plague. However, as a 4th-grade mage, he was catching the disease later than the others, thanks to his mana, which was several times greater than his family's, and his higher level of cultivation.
"What on earth! What on earth happened!! Why, why is it like this!! Why can't my wife even drink water!!"
Even if he grilled the doctor, there was no reason for the doctor to know why. He couldn't have imagined that someone had sprinkled the diarrhea of a sick person into his well. In this world, there was purification through healing magic or the divine power of the church, but that only applied to 'poisons that humans know,' not the mystery of curing an unknown 'disease.' Of course, there were a very small number of beings in the imperial church who dealt with the mystery of solving diseases, but such people couldn't be met just by paying money.
Therefore, Bierson had no choice but to watch his family vomit and suffer from diarrhea every day, dying. No matter how much money he had, no matter how many nobles he knew, even if he gave everything he had lived for until now, he had encountered an adversity he could never overcome.
"I heard there are people here who have caught the plague, so I have come."
Nevertheless, a new helping hand reached out to him as he struggled, looking everywhere to save his family. A duo of a nun and a priest, calling themselves pilgrims, appeared. They were people from a church in a kingdom other than the Valkart Kingdom, and they said that a disease similar to this had raged in their own kingdom.
"As expected... these are the same symptoms I saw before. This is not a plague."
"T-then what on earth is it!?"
"A curse. And a very powerful and terrible curse at that."
"A-a curse? Are you talking about the curses those damn demons use!?"
"Yes. It's a curse they spread, and the country I lived in was pushed to the brink of destruction. This is a serious matter that must be reported to the Valkart royal family immediately to deal with."
"What does that mean...!?"
Bierson had been a department head. He immediately judged what kind of treatment he and his family would receive if he reported to the royal palace that a demon's curse was involved.
"Please! Please don't do that!! I'll give you anything! Please, please save my wife and sons!"
"......"
If it were just the plague, he could just stay locked in his house and die. Even if he lost the trial and became a criminal, he should have been the only one dying. But a demon's curse. It was a terrible thing known to be impossible to eliminate unless it was burned and erased while alive before it spread further. The moment the report reached the royal family, his sons, his wife, and himself—who had also started feeling sick—would be burned alive.
"Namu Amitabha... There is a way, a way to cure the curse."
"Yes!? W-what is it! I will do anything!! Please, please tell me!!!"
Seeing the nun reciting some kind of folk religious prayer different from the Valkart Kingdom's church, Bierson was convinced. This nun was truly a person from a different church from another kingdom. Meeting this nun and priest here was the gods protecting his wife, who had been a faithful religious practitioner! If he had been in his right mind, he might have been suspicious that the timing was too good, but he was already caught up in all sorts of public opinion and scandals, and his family had all collapsed while he was preparing for the trial, so he had no room left for such thoughts.
"Brother. How much holy water, how much holy water do we have now?"
"We only have three. But Sister, are you thinking of using this precious thing here?"
"I cannot pass by a poor lamb in front of me without seeing them."
"But..."
"I know. It's the highest-grade holy water that even our church can only make 120 of a year. But is that more important than a person's life?"
"H-how much is it! I will pay as much as you want!! Please, please save my family!! Please save my wife and sons!!!"
"Brother, please don't do this. This is not something that can be solved with money..."
"T-ten million!! I will give you ten million per bottle!! Please, please I beg you!! Please sell it to me!!!"
Bierson offered to buy the holy water, which was in a bottle the size of a fist, for ten million each. However, the male priest seemed to be trying to stop the nun, as if it didn't matter how much money was offered, and the nun argued back and forth several times, saying she had to save the person in front of her and would report it to the church later. Like that.
"Haa... I understand. Seeing your love for your family, I can no longer stop Sister."
"Thank, thank you!"
"It's not the stage to thank me yet. The demon's curse is very powerful, so let's have the three of them take it first. If there are signs of improvement, pay the price then."
"Ah, ahhh...!! Nun! No, Saintess!! You are a Saintess...!!"
Thus, Bierson had his family drink the holy water.
"Ah... ah! My wife, my sons! They aren't vomiting!! They are drinking water...!!!"
The salt water Carix made was sold for 20 million Carats each.
It was going smoothly. Through the nun dispatched by the Silver Teeth, I went to sell holy water to the other professors' houses as well, and they bought it immediately. Hundreds of millions poured in in an instant. Carix paid ten times the commission fee, which he had promised to pay later.
"Silver Teeth, they work well."
"Seriously. I told them to sell for about 500 each and slowly raise the price, but to sell for 2,000 right away. Didn't those people pick the wrong profession?"
"That's what I'm saying. ......Leng."
"Yes."
"When this is over, tell the Silver Teeth broker that I want to see the face of their leader."
"Ack! Why are you meeting them in person!? Didn't you say you were just going to use them?"
Originally, I intended to use the assassin group like the Carix of the original work and then discard them. If my memories of my past life are correct, they would be wiped out in a major disaster before entering Episode 3. And even if I didn't commission them, they would inevitably be tied to that event someday. I had been keeping my distance through Leng because I thought it would be a headache if I got caught up in it, but...
"I changed my mind. They're too useful. Above all, even if we were monitoring them, they could have lied about the amount and taken more for themselves. But they endured that. So, if I can keep them as my exclusive subordinates, I will."
"Umm... I understand. I'll talk to them well."
Fifteen days left. The time it would take for everything they had to hit rock bottom. And the time remaining until I shoved them into their burning coffins.