Chapter 127

Kukulo was dumbfounded.

Even though he was the lord of Del Conti, Shion had ignored him.

Shion acted as if the name Del Conti was nothing and in fact, made Kukulo, who was obsessed with it, feel foolish.

Normally, he could have just snorted at it.

He could have said, ‘He’s a pauper, he doesn't know any better,’ but since the opponent was the owner of the Herteu Mine, he couldn't do that.

His shattered pride made his anger soar.

Tibel Bartole had approached at some point and placed a tobacco stick in his mouth.

If it had been anyone else acting as if they knew his heart completely, he would have flown into a rage.

But the person was Tibel, his mistress.

He quietly allowed her to light the tobacco.

Smoke filled the banquet hall.

Onseu Om wanted to light up a tobacco stick himself, but he restrained himself.

It was because Kukulo Del Conti was unusually angry.

“...Everyone except Tibel, please leave.”

Kukulo said.

“We have something to talk about, just the two of us.”

“No, there’s no need for that.”

There was a voice that interrupted him.

An old man entered the banquet hall.

He was shabbily dressed, with his hat pulled down low.

It was the old coachman who had brought Shion to the Del Conti estate.

Pneuve hurriedly bowed his head and Onseu Om also gave a slight nod in greeting.

Only Tibel Bartole did not move.

Even when Kukulo hastily stubbed out his tobacco.

“Father……”

“You don't even offer me a seat, Kukulo?”

“...Please, have a seat.”

The old coachman sat down at the end of the banquet hall.

Kukulo Del Conti said, flustered.

“What happened to your clothes? Why are you dressed as a coachman……”

“I drove the carriage myself to see what kind of man this Shion was. It’s nothing strange, it's what I always did when I was young.”

“What...!?”

Kukulo let out a groan in surprise.

His father was Conteano Del Conti.

Even though he is retired now, he was the master of masters who had founded the Del Conti family!

For him to act as a coachman was an absurd thing.

Even Pneuve had the decency to avoid Kukulo's gaze.

“So, what happened?”

“……”

“You pathetic fool.”

Conteano Del Conti responded to his son's silence with a scolding.

“I know without even hearing it. You must have been thoroughly beaten.”

“……”

“What do you mean, break his spirit?”

Just from the short conversation he had while posing as a coachman, he could see the depth of Shion.

Madness even flickered in his eyes.

Those with eyes like that don't lose their spirit even if an arm or two are cut off.

As if Kukulo, that pathetic son of his, would know something like that.

“Still, I should hear what was said. You, explain.”

Conteano pointed his finger at the woman in the black butler's uniform, Tibel Bartole.

Tibel did not cower and showed a smile.

Conteano twisted his thin lips.

“What, you think you don’t have to listen to a retired old man?”

“How could that be, Former Lord.”

Tibel Bartole smiled, covering her mouth.

“It's not a long story, but I was just wondering where to begin.”

She summarized the conversation between Shion and Kukulo.

Soon, Conteano's eyes widened in astonishment.

“...The owner of the Herteu Mine? That young man?”

Conteano stroked his chin.

The Herteu Mine was one of the most prominent large-scale mines in Maesh.

Its value was beyond words.

With that alone, one could acquire half, no, more than half of all the businesses owned by Del Conti.

…….

Conteano was lost in thought.

In a short moment, he measured Shion's depths in his mind.

The expectation that a person running a massive enterprise like the Herteu Mine would not have other businesses was overly optimistic.

Conteano opened his mouth to his son, who was stiff with tension.

“Kukulo.”

“...Yes, Father.”

“Take your hands off that man and Verchello.”

The old man spoke as if giving an order.

“You can't handle him. I've told you all along, not to touch Verchello. But you just had to keep picking fights. I let it be because you're the current lord, but no more.”

“But, Father……”

“But?”

Conteano's eyes flashed fiercely.

In front of the hawk-nosed old man, Kukulo could only shut his mouth.

His still frightening father, the first lord of Del Conti who had risen alone while swallowing Verchello whole.

“I’ve always told you. What is Del Conti.”

“...A cuckoo.”

“A cuckoo lives by laying its eggs in another's nest. It can't live alone.”

The old man had been Verchello's exclusive accountant.

But as Verchello began to decline, he had seized their core businesses as if he had been waiting for it and established his own family.

All of Merion clicked their tongues at the shamelessness of engraving a cuckoo on the family crest.

The depth of his life experience was different from Kukulo's.

“No matter how big it gets, it's still a cuckoo. If there's no one else to raise its young, it can't continue its line. Act like a cuckoo.”

“...Do we have to be a cuckoo?”

Kukulo Del Conti, despite being forty years old, spoke like a rebellious teenager.

“I may not know about you, Father, but I am not a cuckoo.”

“No, you're more of a cuckoo than I am.”

Conteano stood up.

No one stopped him.

Despite his shabby appearance, he was clad in a sense of authority that was incomparable to Kukulo.

“Be wise, Kukulo.”

***

Kukulo no longer even felt like smoking.

As he was nursing his pride that Shion had shattered, his father came in and shattered it once more.

Beyond anger, he felt a sense of self-loathing.

“Are you alright, my lord?”

“...I'm angry.”

He was the lord of Del Conti.

A man of wealth deserving to be called ‘my lord,’ yet both Shion and Conteano treated him like a child.

It was unbearably unpleasant.

“Tibel, what do you think? Should I back off now as my father said?”

“What do you want to do, my lord?”

“I can’t do that!”

He had many plans laid out.

Plans for Del Conti to go beyond Merion and seize the Bururade Peninsula.

For this, Verchello had to disappear.

“I am the lord now.”

He said, breathing heavily.

“Because of his memory of being Verchello’s accountant, my father is always soft on them… but this Kukulo is different.”

The four-hundred-year-old prestigious house of Verchello.

The name that symbolized Merion.

If they could not escape from that shadow, there was no future for Del Conti.

Only by getting rid of Verchello without leaving a trace would Del Conti finally stand tall.

Kukulo had such a conviction.

“I will completely trample Verchello. Faster than planned and very thorough!”

Even if the owner of the Herteu Mine had become their sponsor, not much would change.

This was Merion, Del Conti's front yard.

“Then I’ll have to change that crest too.”

“To what, my lord?”

“Anything but a cuckoo!”

A lark would be fine, an eagle would be fine, whatever it was, as long as it wasn't that wretched cuckoo.

As long as the name Del Conti could be proud!

“Tibel, you’ve investigated how Verchello’s carriage is doing, I assume.”

“Yes, Sir Arellay's repairs are finished and it is being stored in the warehouse of the Verchello mill.”

“There must be guards.”

“Yes. There is just one person.”

“...One person? What if someone tries to destroy the carriage?”

“They probably thought they wouldn't be able to.”

Tibel Bartole chuckled, ‘huhu.’

“The name of the man guarding the carriage is Dussell Duke. I heard he’s a former Agent of the Original Ladder Church.”

“An Agent...!?”

Kukulo let out a shocked and bewildered cry.

An Agent of the Original Ladder Church was a superhuman in both name and reality.

Why was such a person at Verchello?

“If the opponent is an Agent, then there’s only one way.”

The man in the indigo frock coat nodded his head.

“I’m counting on you, Onseu Om.”

***

Dussell Duke was having very happy days.

It truly felt like a dream.

Ever since he got a job at the Verchello mill, every day was full of surprises.

When he opens his eyes in the morning, there is Yeni.

When he goes to work and works at the mill, Yeni brings him lunch.

When he finishes work and goes home, Yeni is waiting.

Yeni at the dinner table, Yeni in bed and when he opens his eyes again, Yeni.

That innocent woman, who was now his wife, Yeni Duke.

Always with Yeni.

Moreover, there was no need to bloody his hands.

He worked up a healthy sweat at the mill, ate delicious meals, and lay down in a comfortable bed.

If his life were to end today, it would be a shame, but his days were so fulfilling that it wouldn't be painful.

Days that were too much to even imagine had become his daily life.

‘Time to go on my night patrol.’

He had a long sword on his back.

A blacksmith had fixed the sword that was cut into seven pieces by Amethus.

For now, he was also serving as a guard for the mill, so he couldn't leave it behind.

Since the mill was outside the city, sometimes foolish thieves or wild boars would come down.

A quick walk around was all it took.

With his already tall stature combined with the physical abilities of an Agent, he could survey a large area with just a little movement. He was especially careful around the warehouse.

Right now, there was a carriage in the Verchello mill's warehouse.

It was the item to be presented at the Harvest Festival.

The mill workers didn't know; only Dussell and Yeni knew.

It was a beautiful carriage, black and antique.

Dussell Duke smiled.

‘Mr. Shion is truly a hero-like person.’

Having lived for years as the Agent of the Merion parish, he was well aware of Verchello's current situation.

A family that wouldn't have been strange if it had disappeared at any moment was slowly regaining its strength and this time they decided to participate in the Harvest Festival.

It went without saying who was to thank.

It was thanks to the blue-eyed blond, Shion, who ran the Art Gallery Lamponé.

‘Both Yeni and I are greatly indebted to him. And he’s re-establishing Verchello like this…….’

Dussell, having checked the warehouse, turned his steps.

All that was left was to go back and lie down in bed again.

As he was walking back so leisurely, Dussell slowly stopped.

He looked up at the crescent moon in the sky.

His eyes were wide and fierce.

“……”

And then slowly, he gripped the hilt of his sword.

“Who’s there?”

He smelled tobacco.

“You’ve already been found, so come out.”

“I had no intention of hiding.”

A worn indigo frock coat, an indigo tricorne hat.

Dirty blond hair, tobacco and hard liquor and above all, a right arm made of brass.

“I hate hiding.”

“‘Brass Arm’……!”

Dussell Duke called out the man’s nickname.

It was impossible not to know.

‘Brass Arm’ Onseu Om chuckled.

Indigo mana flickered.

“If you know I’m Brass Arm, then you must know why I’m here.”

“……”

“I came to destroy Verchello’s carriage.”

Onseu Om put the lit tobacco stick in his mouth and chewed it.

He didn't care that it was still lit and chewed it into a lump, then spat it out with a ‘ptui.’

He washed his mouth, dirtied with tobacco ash, with hard liquor.

“You, you were an Agent, I hear.”

Dussell Duke did not answer.

Instead, his two fierce eyes began to emit a blue, sharp light. Because words were unnecessary for an Agent.

Those are some nice eyes.

“I’m looking forward to this.”

Onseu Om giggled.

“I’ve always wanted to fight an Agent at least once.”