FANSiA Originals and KakaoPage
I Became the Genius Bastard of a Noble Dark Clan
[Author/Original: Yuin]
[TL: Dekor]
[PR: Spades]
Chapter 19
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The discipline of the Magic Empire was both free-spirited and strict.
While it imposed harsh punishments for crossing certain lines, it also guaranteed a great deal of freedom in areas outside those bounds.
This was done to efficiently manage the unruly Dark Beings, and in that sense, gambling was not illegal in the Magic Empire.
On the contrary, it was encouraged.
Rather than letting people succumb to their impulses and shed blood, the hope was that they'd release their tension through relatively wholesome(?) amusements like gambling.
After all, card games had historically been a popular form of entertainment enjoyed by people of all ages and genders.
Each major city had several legal gambling halls, and gambling was a pastime enjoyed regardless of one's social status or age.
"This, this is a gambling hall? I… I can't believe a place like this exists in the world."
[Oh ho ho ho… Wh-what an astonishing place.]
Therne and Banshee, who had come with Chris, widened their eyes at the dazzling scenery of the gambling hall like country bumpkins visiting a city for the first time.
Seeing Therne like that (since Banshee was invisible), the people in the gambling hall chuckled quietly.
The rule of this gambling hall was that everyone wore masks so they could enjoy the game without revealing their identities, but even with his face covered, everyone could tell that Therne was a clueless first-timer.
"Well, it's a good place to have a little fun. Since we're already here, how about it, Therne? Want to make a bet with me?"
Chris smiled lightly.
"Let's see who can win more money."
"Me, against you, brother?"
"Yeah. Didn't you say you wanted to beat me? Anyway, gambling and card games follow the same rules, so even if it's your first time, you won't be at a disadvantage."
Once money was on the line in a card game, it was gambling.
"..."
Still, when it came time to actually compete, Therne hesitated.
Chris dangled a tempting bait.
"If you win, I'll treat you as my older brother for a whole month."
"…Really?"
"Yeah. I swear on the name of my late mother."
Since it wasn't his real mother, there was no reason to feel any weight in swearing on her name.
"But if you lose, then for the same amount of time, you'll have to call me 'Respected King Emperor Majesty Brother' whenever you address me."
"..."
"Well, unless you're too scared."
As Therne faltered, Chris provoked him, and riled up, Therne took the bait.
"…Make sure you keep that promise."
Chris grinned widely.
And so, the match began, drawing in a large crowd.
All to Therne.
People recognized that he was an easy target and gathered around to fleece him.
'There are even a few professional scam gamblers here.'
Chris alternated between winning and losing just enough to keep things balanced as he observed how much Therne was betting.
Like a cliché, Therne won money in the beginning.
As he started stacking up wins, his tension faded, and he began making bold bets with newfound confidence.
And then, he lost big.
"A-Ah, what?!"
Therne wore the expression of someone who had just lost a country.
During a short break, Chris approached and whispered lightly into his ear.
"So much for showing me what you've got. That all you had?"
"!!"
"How about going home and sticking to card games there?"
Therne's face turned red.
"You're losing too, aren't you?!"
"Still doing better than you. I've only lost 500 rupe."
"I've only lost 1,000 rupe too!"
"So, you gonna keep going?"
"I'll keep going! Give me more money!"
The same thing repeated itself.
Chris continued egging Therne on, pushing him to keep losing money.
With subtle provocations, he made sure Therne couldn't back down from the match. The professional fleecers were delighted and happily drained Therne dry.
They got so excited that they even broke a fundamental rule of pro scammers:
They made their tricks too obvious.
They pulled a move so blatant, it practically screamed "cheating."
That's because they looked down on Therne—and even Chris, who was with him—as complete marks.
'Bingo.'
And Chris, watching their sloppy trickery, smiled faintly.
They were caught.
Just then, Banshee quietly approached and whispered to him.
[Young Master… the ones you mentioned… I found them.]
"Well done."
[Sh-should I… go "watta"?]
"Yeah, watta."
Banshee giggled softly.
Chris silently rose from his seat.
And then he slipped out of the gambling hall, leaving behind Therne—who had now lost a whopping 10,000 rupe and sat there completely stunned.
'He's not a kid. He'll figure it out. Maybe he'll have to pay it off with his body or something.'
He intentionally didn't give Therne any money to repay the debt.
Why?
Because the place he was going now—was somewhere he had to go alone.
Having Therne around would only get in the way, so he deliberately left him behind.
'He's 10,000 rupe in debt now. He won't be able to get out of there for a while. And knowing Therne, he'll be too embarrassed about owing gambling debt to reveal his identity easily.'
Therne was still only thirteen years old, and since he'd spent most of his life within the mansion, there weren't many people who knew his actual face.
Even if he took off his mask, as long as he didn't reveal his identity himself, people wouldn't recognize who he was.
Chris could clearly imagine Therne pale-faced, frozen in place, completely flustered and at a loss, and it made him chuckle to himself.
[This is the place… Young Master.]
The two of them arrived at a mansion in a bustling district.
"Yeah, open the door."
[By… your command.]
Click.
Banshee used her ability to unlock the door.
The soldiers inside were startled and raised their guard.
"Who goes there?!"
Chris took off his mask.
"There's no one here who doesn't know who I am, right?"
"!!"
The faces of the people in the mansion turned pale when they saw his face.
"W-we greet the Young Master!!"
Unlike Therne, who almost never left the mansion and thus wasn't widely recognized, Christien's face was very well-known throughout the castle.
"W-what brings you here, sir?"
"Go fetch your master."
"Pardon? Ah, yes! Right away!!"
The soldiers hurriedly brought someone over.
It was a chubby middle-aged man with a face like a piggy teddy bear, stuffed full of flesh.
"W-what brings you to our merchant house, Young Master?"
"Merchant Lord Grantel."
Chris crossed his arms and called the man by name.
A man who had become rich through various illegal means.
"Could we talk in private for a moment?"
"Pardon? Why?"
"If you'd rather not, I don't mind talking here. Though… that might make your position very uncomfortable."
The greedy-faced merchant lord, Grantel, stiffened.
He led Chris to a more secluded place.
"If I may ask… what is this about?"
"Do you want to die?"
"…What?"
Grantel's eyes widened.
"Wh-what are you saying, all of a sudden?"
"You really don't know why?"
"I-I have no idea what you're referring to."
Chris smiled quietly.
"You dare run a scam gambling operation against my dear little brother, Therne—the heir of House Khazar—and you claim ignorance?"
"!!"
Grantel's eyes went wide.
"T-that… that can't be! D-don't tell me… the gullible fool in the tiger mask at the gambling hall…?!"
"Yes. That was Therne, heir of House Khazar."
That's right.
The fat man standing in front of him was the owner of the gambling hall they had visited earlier.
And the scam gamblers who had fleeced Therne were subordinates of this very man.
"Do I really need to explain in detail all the cheap tricks they pulled?"
"B-but…! I only run the gambling hall! What they did has nothing to do with me…!"
Grantel tried to deny it, but it was a worthless excuse.
[Oh ho ho… I saw everything—how you all schemed together. He's lying, he's lying.]
The ghost's voice whispered by his ear, and Grantel's face turned deathly pale.
Banshee widened her eerie eyes and brought her face right up to his.
[Do you want to die?]
"Aaaaaargh!!"
The merchant lord dropped to the floor in a panic and begged.
"Please forgive me! I'm so sorry! If I had known it was Lord Therne and Lord Christien, I never would have allowed such a thing! I beg you, please have mercy!"
Christien crossed his arms.
"What about compensation?"
"You're not planning to get away with just an apology, are you?"
The merchant lord flinched.
He had realized Chris's true intent.
He had come to extort him.
'Did he hide his identity in the gambling hall just to provoke scam gambling and squeeze money out of us?'
The thought briefly crossed his mind, but he shook his head. No matter how much of a delinquent the man in front of him was, he couldn't be that malicious… or so he wanted to believe.
"Of course not! I'll compensate you! H-how much would you like…?"
"I'll be merciful and set it at one million rupe."
"…What?"
"One million rupe. Didn't you hear me?"
The merchant lord's expression hardened.
"T-that's… too much…"
If he paid one million rupe, his entire merchant house would go under.
It was a staggering amount of money.
"You committed a crime, so you must be punished. You do know the laws regarding scam gambling, right?"
The Magic Empire did not prohibit gambling.
But scam gambling was a serious offense—and as with all things here, the punishment was severe.
"Your wrists would be cut off. Reattachment through healing arts is also forbidden. From what I gathered, there were over five separate instances… so both wrists and both legs wouldn't be enough. Should we include the middle leg too?"
The merchant lord trembled like a leaf.
"B-but… I really don't have that kind of money. Even if I liquidated everything, it wouldn't be enough."
"Then let's do this. Two hundred thousand rupe."
"!!"
"Surely you're not going to tell me you don't have even this much, are you?"
The merchant lord swallowed hard.
It was as if Chris had known in advance—that figure was exactly the limit of what he could possibly pay.
"One more thing."
"Wh-what is it?"
Chris finally stated the real reason he had come here.
"Hand over Grunade to me."
"!!"
Chris spoke.
"That kind of treasure is far too precious for a scum like you to possess."
Grunade.
A broken holy sword once wielded by a fallen hero in the distant past.
* * *
"T-this is Grunade."
Grunade was a dull, rusted blade.
More than half of its body was broken and severed.
A weapon that, in its current state, had no practical use at all.
"P-pardon me, but… why are you looking for such a worthless antique?"
Chris said nothing in reply. He simply stared at the merchant lord.
Feeling that he had overstepped, the man flinched and lowered his head with a gasp.
"I-I deeply apologize for daring to question such a great intention. H-here… this is 200,000 rupe. It's in cash and promissory notes that can be redeemed immediately, so you should be able to withdraw it at the bank without delay."
Merchant Lord Grantel swallowed his tears inwardly.
The 200,000 rupe was the maximum amount of liquid assets his merchant house could mobilize. And now it was all gone in an instant.
But he had no right to complain.
He had been the one in the wrong for running scam gambling in the first place. Honestly, the fact that he still had his limbs intact and got to walk away with his life was a mercy.
Chris went to the bank and withdrew the money immediately.
'200,000 rupe. This should be more than enough.'
He didn't return to the count's estate right away, instead wandering the bustling city streets.
He dropped by several shops and bought various items—supplies he would use in the upcoming duel with Melin.
While he was at it, he also bought a gift for Banshee.
It wasn't anything extravagant. She had been staring intently at some trinkets, so he bought her one.
'Always wanted to try this kind of thing. Being the rich young master who casually throws around money for his subordinates.'
Well, calling it generosity was a stretch—the trinket was cheap—but Banshee still looked quite touched.
[…Young Master.]
"It's a gift to help you pass on in peace since you look like you've been cursed by a lack of shiny ornaments."