Chapter 2 - Becoming the Mastermind of the Count’s House (2)

Three months had already passed since Alon rescued Yudia Bloodia, who would become a humanity-erasing machine ten years later. Over those three months, he had diligently gone about his daily life and managed to locate the second Sin he needed to rescue.

About another month later, Alon was in the study attending to some business when Evan brought him good news.

“As you ordered, I rescued the child from the illegal slave market and sent him to the orphanage Yutia manages.”

“You treated him well, like I told you?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t fight him?”

“Of course not.”

Alon nodded in satisfaction at the report from Evan, whom he had grown accustomed to seeing over the past half year or more. Once again, Evan cautiously gauged his mood before asking a question.

“... May I ask you something, though?”

“What is it?”

“Why did you send that child to the orphanage after going to such lengths to track him down and rescue him...? It may not be my place to say this, but the child we rescued this time has extraordinary talent, too.”

Alon immediately understood what Evan meant and nodded, thinking,

‘Not just extraordinary. He has world-ending talent.’

The boy he had rescued this time from an illegal slave market in the Kingdom of Kalian, the heart of the allied kingdoms, was none other than Deus.

Deus Makalian.

One of Psychedelia’s bosses, he would become the Sin of Sloth, one of the Five Great Sins, ten years from now. Like the Sin of Wrath, he would wipe several allied kingdoms, including the Kingdom of Isteria, off the continent the moment he first appeared.

And in the worst possible way.

Even Alon had grimaced at the graphic depictions while playing the game, and some players in Psychedelia’s online communities had fits over the scenes involving Sloth.

‘And for someone called Sloth, he sure knows how to hold a grudge.’

That was why he had told Evan to treat the boy as well as possible even after rescuing him.

Reminded of that fact, Alon belatedly remembered Evan had asked him a question and tossed out a makeshift excuse.

“It’s the same as before. The time simply hasn’t come yet.”

“The time, you say.”

Watching Evan mull over his offhand excuse, Alon thought,

‘He certainly has a lot of questions.’

Honestly, Alon would have preferred a knight who quietly carried out his orders without asking anything to Evan, who asked about every little thing whenever he received an order. Unfortunately, Alon had no choice.

No, it would be more accurate to say he had already spent that choice on Evan half a year ago.

Evan was a character in Psychedelia who, while not quite a lead, appeared several times in a supporting role on certain routes. And he was a top-notch supporting character: once the story established a certain degree of trust, he would never stab you in the back and would remain loyal to the very end.

Alon knew just how valuable a guarantee against betrayal was in this fantasy world, where treachery and backstabbing were everyday occurrences. So when Evan happened to pass through the estate, Alon had sought him out and hired him as a knight without hesitation.

“... Understood.”

While Alon was lost in thought, Evan gave a firm nod as though he had grasped everything, then asked another question.

“When do you intend to meet the children you rescued, Lord Alon?”

“I don’t particularly intend to.”

“... Wouldn’t it still be better to meet them at least once?”

“... Hmm.”

Alon knew that, if possible, it would be best to get along with the Five Great Sins, and that meeting them in person was the best way to build their affection for him.

Yet despite knowing this, he intended to maintain their relationship solely through financial support rather than meet them. The reason was their personalities—or, more precisely, their character.

As far as he knew, the Five Great Sins had been awful people even before becoming the Five Great Sins. That much was clear from the flashbacks that invariably played after defeating each of their bosses in Psychedelia.

Their character was so appalling that Satan and Lucifer would clasp hands and applaud from the deepest depths of hell.

‘Of course, what they went through on the way to becoming the Five Great Sins was even more horrific.’

After that brief reflection, Alon continued his train of thought.

‘... Well, I rescued them while their personalities were still being ruined, so I doubt they’ll go that far... But even so, I only rescued them halfway through.’

Ultimately, there was bound to be something off about the Five Great Sins’ personalities, which gave him plenty to worry about. Still, he said,

“... I suppose I could meet them in about five years.”

Wouldn’t five years give him enough data from Evan to get a good sense of their overall character?

Just as Evan nodded at the answer Alon had reached through that rather optimistic reasoning—

BANG!

The study door suddenly flew open, and someone walked in.

“Well, who do we have here? Isn’t it Alon?”

At the familiar voice calling his name, Alon frowned slightly and sighed. He knew its owner all too well.

“What’s my illiterate little brother doing here? Hmm?”

He turned toward the voice and saw a man approaching with a smarmy expression—no,

“Your older brother’s talking to you. Where’s your answer?”

—it was Tonio, House Palladio’s second son and one of the count’s notorious scumbag brothers. With a blatantly unpleasant smile, he rested his arm on the seated Alon’s head.

It was an unmistakable gesture of contempt.

“I stopped by to look something up.”

Even as Tonio openly pressed down on his head hard enough to cause a little pain, Alon answered in an ordinary tone, as though nothing were wrong.

‘Here he goes being an asshole again.’

This was hardly the first time the eldest or second son had treated Alon this way. In fact, they had been openly bullying him since the moment he possessed this body. The original Alon must have endured the same treatment long before that.

Even so, he let their bullying pass without bothering to react because his desire to preserve his peaceful life as a noble outweighed his irritation.

‘If I mess with these bastards, my whole plan will fall apart before it even gets started.’

If they had truly been nothing more than a count’s pair of wastrel sons, Alon would have loved to put them firmly in their place. The problem was that they were far more formidable than that.

‘A drug kingpin and a prostitution kingpin aren’t exactly people I want to mess with.’

Alon glanced up. Looking down at him with an openly mocking smile was the count’s second son—a major underworld figure who ran a drug cartel with the grandiose name of “Avalon” together with the “Organization.”

Granted, his reputation extended only a little way within the kingdom. Unfortunately, the current Alon had no way to dispose of scum with dozens of underworld operatives at his command, who would readily order a contract killing if crossed, without suffering repercussions.

... Even if he did dispose of Tonio, he would then have to fight the eldest son, who was currently at odds with his younger brother and had established himself in prostitution rather than drugs.

The eldest son was sensitive about the succession to the count’s house. There was no chance he would leave Alon alone after Alon defeated the second son.

In short, Alon knew that the moment he seriously pushed back, he would have to see it through to the bitter end.

“You seem to want to use the study, Brother, so I’ll take my leave.”

“At least you know your place.”

Alon bowed politely to Tonio, whose face was filled with mockery, then left the study with Evan and returned to his room.

Evan soon handed him a letter from Yutia.

“I brought it myself this time.”

“Did you?”

Ever since rescuing Yutia, Alon had regularly exchanged letters with her once a month. They mostly asked after each other and shared simple stories about their daily lives. Alon himself had proposed the correspondence.

‘She might feel closer to a pen pal like this than someone she meets in person.’

Recalling the friends in open chat rooms whom he had once felt closer to than his real-life friends, Alon unfolded the letter and read it.

“Hmm...”

There was nothing remarkable in it: Yutia’s usual brief greeting and stories about a few of the children at the orphanage. In short, she had written things like how a child named Hidan was very good at “playing war,” or how a child named Yuna was very good at “tag.”

Reading these thoroughly ordinary stories, Alon wondered what to write in today’s letter, then decided to give a faithful account of what had happened that day. He thought sharing a few of his worries, rather than writing only pleasant things, might bring them a little closer emotionally.

With that intention, he wrote about the day’s events and sent the letter to Yutia’s orphanage.

It was an ordinary day.

####

Meanwhile.

“Hmm.”

Yutia looked at Deus Makalian, a boy with empty eyes of an eerie, ominous purple.

Outwardly, he looked intact. His arms and legs were all still attached, and though his body was covered in traces of the abuse he had suffered, nothing appeared to be causing him discomfort.

But that was only his outward appearance. Anyone else who saw Deus Makalian would have been certain he was broken. His body might be intact, but his eyes, which should have held some sort of emotion, stared into space with nothing but emptiness.

Deus stared blankly at a single spot without moving or expressing any emotion, like someone whose brain had been scrambled by mind magic.

He looked exactly like a broken person.

Yet Yutia wore a broad smile as she watched him.

‘Traces of what “that thing” did to him... How considerate of him to let Deus take revenge himself.’

No, it went beyond a broad smile. Having grasped with utter clarity why he had sent Deus here, Yutia spoke.

“The Black Goat.”

“!”

A single phrase.

But that single phrase drew a reaction from Deus, who until a moment ago had been no different from a broken person.

What filled his empty eyes was not intelligence or anything of the sort.

Only hatred, rage, and fear.

Seeing that, she smiled and said,

“You want revenge, don’t you?”

At Yutia’s words, Deus’s eyes turned from empty space toward her. They were filled with hatred, murderous intent, and a question.

Yutia caught all of that easily and said nothing more. She simply released a light scattering of mana—the power he had bestowed upon her, intended solely for confronting the “black things.”

“Congratulations. He has chosen you. That means you’ll gain power.”

She offered no further explanation of the mana she had scattered. No, there was no need. The talent of the second person he had chosen was so outstanding that a single action could replace a lengthy explanation.

And so,

“All you have to do is follow him with unwavering loyalty. Then you’ll be able to take revenge.”

Yutia smiled at Deus.

A week after Deus arrived at the orphanage, Yutia received a letter from Alon as usual.

“... I see.”

She finished reading it and smiled.

####

Just over a year had passed since Deus had been entrusted to the orphanage, with Alon continuing his ordinary correspondence and conversations with Yutia.

Unable to find the third boss he needed to rescue, Alon was shaking his head as though the problem were giving him a headache when a piece of news reached him.

“... That scumbag is dead?”

House Palladio’s second son had died.