The door burst open, and Kizen's hand shot out, seizing the visitor by the scruff of the neck.
He dragged the man inside where no one could see, slamming the door shut behind them.
With overwhelming force, he slammed the visitor's body to the floor and swiftly mounted him.
He wrenched the man's right arm behind his back and held a sharp dagger to his throat.
"Wh-what are you doing?!"
"Who sent you, you assassin?"
"Assassin? I'm just a messenger delivering a package!"
"You expect me to believe that?"
"Calm down, Kizen!"
His daughter was dying from poison, leaving Kizen in a state of extreme agitation.
He was so vicious that killing the man before him wouldn't have raised any eyebrows.
If the rational Hayden hadn't intervened, there could easily have been another corpse.
"Didn't he say he came to deliver a package? You can judge it after seeing it!"
"What if it's dangerous?"
"This place only has two old men with not much time left and a child dying of poison. If you dismiss it just because it might be risky, you could miss a vital opportunity."
"Even so..."
"And didn't you want to grasp even the smallest hope?"
"...You're right."
Kizen conceded to the doctor's words.
Still, he didn't release the pressure pinning down the messenger.
He was prepared to take the man down with him if things went south.
"Where's the item you were asked to deliver?"
"A-around my waist!"
Kizen slammed the dagger into the floor right in front of the messenger's eyes.
A warning not to try anything funny as he snatched the pouch from the man's belt.
He untied the knot and peered inside.
His face soon filled with shock.
Kizen rubbed his eyes in disbelief and urgently called out his friend's name.
"Hayden!"
"What's in the pouch to get you so worked up?"
"Come check inside the pouch yourself!"
"Th-this is!"
The pouch was filled to the brim with gleaming gold coins.
The two men were mesmerized by the irresistible luster.
Hayden, with his keen eyes, even spotted something special among the gold.
"Insane! There are even platinum coins in here!"
"What do you think? With this amount, could we get Yurel's flower bud...?"
"More than enough to spare!"
Hearing the positive response, Kizen's fierce glare finally softened.
His eyes reddened as tears welled up again, but this time the emotions were different.
Hayden, who had watched his friend waste away day by day, let out a sigh of relief.
"More importantly, shouldn't we find out who this benefactor is that sent such a gift?"
"Ah, right."
"I'll hurry off to gather the ingredients, so you take your time talking."
As soon as Hayden left, Kizen released the restraints and bowed deeply to the messenger with sincere apologies.
He wasn't the one who provided the gold, but delivering it made him a benefactor nonetheless.
"No need for apologies. I received a handsome fee from the client myself."
"May I ask for the benefactor's name?"
"I can't reveal the client's identity. But there's a letter they asked me to pass on—take a look."
The messenger pulled a neatly folded note from his pocket and handed it to Kizen.
Kizen accepted it reverently with both hands and unfolded it.
It contained just a single sentence.
[Altesia's doors are always open. We sincerely await your visit.]
Reading the contents, Kizen was stunned, unable to pull himself away. It was a letter unlike any noble would write.
No pompous formalities, no arrogance, and despite providing sums beyond a commoner's dreams, no boasting.
Just a pure invitation to visit the family someday.
"That concludes my commission. I'll be on my way."
"W-wait! Just one more question!"
"...If it's something I can answer."
"Is this the family head's will?"
The messenger smirked at Kizen's question.
As he headed out, he tossed back an answer that scratched Kizen's itch perfectly.
"Not the family head. Not yet, anyway."
In the darkened room after the door closed, Kizen looked at the note again.
Only then did he notice the small writing at the bottom.
[Please dispose of this note as you see fit after reading.]
A smile crept across Kizen's lips, for the first time since his daughter had fallen poisoned.
He slipped the folded note into his mouth and chewed it down.
Tasting the gritty paper, his eyes gleamed with renewed vitality.
The aura of a battle-hardened veteran emanated from the man who had resembled a walking corpse.
No trace remained of the bloodthirsty killer.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
'I wonder if the money got delivered safely?'
A week had passed since visiting the back-alley tavern.
Having mostly adjusted to life in the Altesia Count House, I was idling away in my room.
I was playing the Ketchup Young Master, but honestly, I had no clue how a real scoundrel lived, so holing up in my room was convenient all around.
'I want to roam freely, but with the cult up to who-knows-what, it's frustrating.'
I couldn't leave the estate, only sneaking peeks at the facilities inside at night.
Even that, I skimmed over, suspecting cultists might be among the household.
Now in Heinz's body, yet unable to splurge freely—it was maddening.
Should I have scouted other talents besides Kizen?
"Young Master! A letter's arrived for you!"
"Finally!"
"Pardon?"
"Nothing. So, who sent it?"
"It's from the Adenbergs."
"Sigh. Figures."
A retired assassin wouldn't send a letter.
Writing one risked traceability.
Disappointing, but for now, I'd have to wait indefinitely for that meeting.
"What should I do?"
"Hand it over for now."
The Adenberg Marquis House was Levin's family, where he rotted in prison.
It was obviously demanding his release.
Not worth reading, but I opened it just in case.
And regretted it. Exactly as expected.
"What a bunch of idle nobles. Instead of bothering me, they should be groveling to His Majesty the Emperor."
I tore the letter to shreds and scattered the pieces on the floor.
Then ordered Luke to clean it up.
They might retaliate for my dismissal, but I didn't care.
From reviewing estate records over the past week, all territories around Adenberg relied on Altesia aid.
Mess with me, and they'd struggle to afford milk powder—their economy would tank.
This Heinz kid was born into such a great family, yet lived like trash. Why?
The developers must've dumped all his stats into Luck and zeroed out Intelligence.
Thanks to that, I enjoyed a comfy life—satisfying, for now.
Though the Nidhogg Cult would eventually ruin it.
"Yeah, this won't do."
I needed to scout and recruit other talents besides Kizen.
The moment I resolved to hit the alley tavern again,
Luke, picking up the letter scraps, chimed in as if on cue.
"Young Master! You're preparing to head out, right?"
"Huh? You knew I was going out?"
"Of course! Today's the day your fiancée, Lady Elisabeth, is visiting!"
Fiancée?
This scoundrel had a fiancée?
I was shocked—it was the first I'd heard of it.
I figured his rotten personality would've scared off any lady into breaking it off.
But Luke's follow-up explained everything.
"She's the one you like, right, Young Master? It might be a bit sudden, but you should prepare a grand welcome from now on!"
If it was a woman Heinz fancied, it made sense.
Even a total jerk like him would play nice around her.
But she surely knew his true nature.
Yet no breakup? Probably the money.
Too early for conclusions—I'd check in person.
"Then I'll go instruct the maids to prepare your attire!"
"Hold up."
"Why?"
"Don't fuss. Stay put. I'm greeting her simply this time."
"Pardon? Lady Elisabeth will get angry."
"No backtalk. Or are you, a mere servant, challenging my authority?"
"N-no way!"
I instructed Luke and all estate staff to rest for the morning.
Along the way, I gleaned details about my fiancée to get a rough idea.
Thus, I ended up greeting my fiancée, Elisabeth Agulvein, with zero preparation.
I didn't go out myself—sent Luke to guide her to the drawing room.
Then sauntered in leisurely.
"You're late! And what's with that sloppy outfit? No basic etiquette for meeting your fiancée!"
The blonde lady erupted the moment I entered, unleashing complaints like machine-gun fire.
Such a hot-tempered, sharp-tongued woman wasn't my type.
I prefer devoted, pure-hearted ones.
But no need to voice my tastes rudely.
"Sorry, got tied up with urgent business."
"Busy? Ha! I heard you just play around all day without doing a thing."
Elisabeth snapped open her fan to hide her lower face.
But I'd caught her expression before that.
One corner of her mouth curled up in clear mockery.
"With the family head away, I had to handle essential matters."
"Sure. Got any other excuses?"
She had zero intention of believing me.
Today was free, but the past week I'd been genuinely swamped with the imperial narcotics report.
Word had spread in Altesia territory, yet she didn't know? Meant she had no interest in me.
Our trust was shattered from the start—I felt relieved.
"You seem pretty dissatisfied."
"Think I wouldn't be? I'm barely holding back now. Even accepting a guy like you as my fiancé and meeting you is all thanks to my generosity."
"Pfft!"
"Wh-why are you laughing?!"
Calling it generosity while seeing me as an ATM? Hilarious.
Just look at the Agulvein Family's background.
They thrived on mining from iron ore veins.
But five years ago, the veins dried up, yields plummeted, and the territory fell into financial ruin.
In their debt-ridden state, Heinz fell head over heels for Elisabeth by chance.
The Agulveins used the engagement to secure Altesia aid.
Altesia held the power; Agulvein begged.
Elisabeth simply realized Heinz's crush and seized control.
'Love is a game where the one who falls first loses.'
She'd been bossing Heinz around until now, but her reign ended today.
Heinz might've loved her, but I didn't—not one bit.
Grinning brightly, I bid her farewell.
"Alright, let's break off the engagement!"
"Pardon...?"
As our engagement hurtled to an extreme end, Elisabeth's pupils trembled.
She'd expected apologies or submission.
She stared blankly into my eyes.
By now, she'd realized no affection lingered in my gaze.
"Hey! The lady's leaving—escort her properly!"
"W-wait a moment!"
"And bring the treasurer to my room! I have urgent matters regarding Agulvein aid."
"Please wait just a bit!"
Nope, not waiting.
I finished like a proclamation and exited the drawing room.
Her desperate pleas echoed from beyond the door, but I ignored them.
"Should've behaved earlier. I gave you plenty of chances."
Scoundrel trait: Master at dumping women.