The Terminally Ill Prince is the Mad Dog of the Underworld (Novel) - Chapter 44
Chapter 44. Let’s Go Extort Some Money from Brother
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Jeffrey reported everything – from their first meeting’s interactions, to the solo actions at the dock, to Allenbert’s behavior of engaging with random smugglers after coordinating with Olivier, then returning as if nothing had happened.
“…How puzzling. What could have been his intention?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure myself.”
Jeffrey felt pathetic about giving such an unclear report.
“He said he wanted to observe smuggling operations, but that seemed like a public pretext. I believe he was clearly aiming for something else.”
“Yet nothing happened.”
“Yes. He only arranged an indefinite meeting with a smuggler named Gimlet at ‘Nasrak’s Inn.'”
“Nasrak’s Inn.”
The butler wrote in his notebook.
“I’ll have this Gimlet person searched for around that location.”
Jeffrey’s expression turned peculiar.
“What is it?”
“The young lord mentioned he doubted he could meet that person again, since the family would investigate like this.”
“…Oh?”
The butler furrowed his brow.
‘If he anticipated even this, then is it some kind of bait? But for what?’
He succeeded in deducing Allenbert’s true intention. However, he couldn’t guess what the bait was for.
“That was all. He said we should return, as if everything was done.”
“From what I hear, there seemed to be several conflicts with the young lord.”
The butler asked.
“Yes. Each time, he would assert his opinion by reminding me of his position.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. It felt like he was deliberately trying to provoke me at every turn.”
This was quite different from his attitude toward Rudan or the tutor. Hadn’t he instantly won their hearts with his unique character?
“Did I mention that I personally selected you?”
“Yes.”
“That must be why.”
The butler thought Allenbert possessed extremely multi-faceted schemes.
‘He probably didn’t take it as simple goodwill. He must have suspected underlying intentions.’
Whether that was surveillance or a test.
“Well then, tell me about the ruffians’ attack.”
“Yes.”
The butler, who had been listening seriously to Jeffrey’s story, couldn’t help but laugh when he heard how Allenbert had provoked the ponytailed leader.
“How absurd. Just like with Prince Baklava, turning someone’s mind inside out with a few words.”
“Even I might have lost my composure.”
“What remarkable eloquence.”
“But even more remarkable was his movement. It was completely different from talent based simply on having abundant mana, mastering mental techniques, or deeply training swordsmanship…”
“How so?”
“He’s skilled at fighting itself. Naturally gifted in the domain of combat. That’s what I thought.”
“To think you of all people would make such an assessment.”
Wasn’t Jeffrey a man receiving great attention for his talent among young royal guards? Yet he was recalling Allenbert’s fighting as if he’d witnessed something incomprehensible.
“He moved as gracefully as a butterfly even before enemy blades. Without swinging his sword particularly fast or strong, the enemies fell like autumn leaves. Like a great master warming up against novices…”
“In short, he’s a genius?”
“Yes. The young lord is a genius.”
Watching Jeffrey’s assertive response, the butler said:
“You’re a warrior through and through. Your heart races at exceptional martial talent.”
“Yes.”
Jeffrey smiled.
“If I may say so, I wondered if this was what Prince Verdzich was like in his youth.”
“Quite high praise.”
The butler smiled inwardly. While he had a stern face when discussing Allenbert’s eccentricities, now his eyes were sparkling as if nothing had happened.
“Be honest. Didn’t you dislike him at first?”
“I can’t lie in front of the butler.”
Jeffrey candidly admitted like a true martial artist.
“I wondered why you sent me, and why this person has been causing such attention in the castle these past few days.”
“And now?”
“…Ahem.”
Jeffrey avoided answering.
“Young lord graciously accepted our apology even though we were negligent in our escort. I felt terribly sorry.”
“Hmm. The one who should apologize is me who gave the orders, not you.”
The butler continued while looking at Jeffrey.
“Jeffrey, I actually have something to tell you.”
Jeffrey straightened his back.
“Please speak.”
“As you know, Prince Allenbert now requires an escort. If you think you’re suitable to serve him…”
“Hmm.”
“Think about it and give me an answer. I won’t rush you immediately.”
“May I ask one thing?”
“Of course.”
“Why me?”
The butler answered as if it was an obvious question.
“I believe you have sufficient capabilities and loyalty to assist him.”
This wasn’t said because he had known Jeffrey since childhood.
“It’s also the butler’s duty to properly arrange attendants for Grünewald’s bloodline, who might potentially become heirs.”
Karl, Verdzich, Ulvhilde, Somerset, Baklava.
Weren’t their attendant groups also carefully selected under his and Duke Georg’s meticulous arrangement?
“…I’ll consider it.”
“Good. You’ve worked hard.”
Count Eiden, watching Jeffrey leave after receiving his blessing, thought:
‘Consent is just a matter of time.’
Jeffrey was already half-won over by Allenbert. Yet he didn’t give an immediate answer, nor did his eyes light up wanting to grab the opportunity immediately. It was precisely this cautiousness that made the butler choose Jeffrey.
‘By the way.’
The butler thought about Somerset, the Third Prince who was undoubtedly behind this scheme.
‘Pranks should be done with some consideration.’
Instigating such a clumsy attack on a Grünewald prince? This wasn’t something to be overlooked.
Moreover, with the prisoners being dragged in by the royal guards, if they confess their instigators, Somerset would be in serious trouble.
‘How could he be so indiscriminate? What was he thinking with such a foolish act? Simply because he was in a bad mood?’
…This would mean Somerset truly lacks the capacity to govern Grünewald.
* * *
“Those stupid b*st*rds.”
Somerset paced the room anxiously, biting his nails.
“I shouldn’t have entrusted the job to such bottom-feeding trash.”
Though he had rejected the butler’s dissuasion and initiated the plan himself, such facts had long been forgotten in Somerset’s mind.
He didn’t really think sending such mediocre thugs would kill or injure Allenbert.
He just wanted to mess with the brother who had been disrespectful to him at the banquet. …Just like he often did in childhood.
Back then, Allenbert would always quietly leave without saying anything about his bullying.
‘He was always pretending to be good.’
When Allenbert went into hiding, shocked by the fall of his maternal family and terminal diagnosis, Somerset indeed felt a secret sense of satisfaction.
During his first year, he would often send people to harass Allenbert, but as the seclusion dragged on, he even stopped doing that.
In any case, Allenbert had never fought back or challenged his attacks. So what on earth was happening now?
‘Cutting off wrists without hesitation, beheading them?’
The eyewitness accounts were quite chilling.
‘Crazy b*st*rd.’
He was deeply unsettled by the fact that he couldn’t understand Allenbert. He had noticed his eyes were slightly off during the banquet, but would he really be so decisive as to commit murder without hesitation?
‘Is this a warning to me? Or has he fallen into madness?’
He wanted to believe the latter, but hadn’t he already been thoroughly provoked by Allenbert’s schemes at the banquet?
‘A warning? How presumptuous. To me?’
Just as Allenbert anticipated, he was feeling a chill from his brother’s methods.
‘…He’s just like Verdzich.’
They shared one common trait: they were too terrifying to be considered mere enemies.
But Somerset never wanted to admit this fact.
“What did that guy say?”
Wasn’t he just at the beginning of the 3rd rank? He had only recently entered martial arts and hadn’t even learned proper swordsmanship yet, because their father hadn’t allowed it.
So what was so terrifying about killing a few street thugs? If he went right now with a sword, he could easily crush him like an ant. Wasn’t that right?
“…Whew.”
Embracing a brutal and malicious mindset actually made Somerset’s heart feel more at ease. It was due to repeatedly confirming his superiority.
“Somerset. Are you there?”
“!”
At that moment, Bianca Grünewald, the Third Wife and Somerset’s mother, barged in without warning.
“Oh, mother.”
Slap!
Somerset’s bear-like fierce face was suddenly turned by a slap from his mother, who was half his size.
“Didn’t I tell you not to act rashly?”
“…!”
A surge of anger rose instantly, but he couldn’t raise his voice to his mother.
“The entire castle is in an uproar because of your impulsive actions. Didn’t you know that such behavior could make you a suspect?”
“…”
Faced with her voice dripping with cold intent-
Somerset couldn’t bring himself to reply about how he had casually used people to torment his brother before. Even he thought it was a stupid reason.
“I hear the prisoners have already undergone harsh interrogation by the royal guards to uncover the instigators.”
“…!”
Color drained from Somerset’s face.
“What do you think will happen if father hears about this?”
“T-that…”
“You clearly didn’t think. Just a stupid, casual attempt to cause some trouble.”
Somerset was deflated by Bianca’s words that perfectly penetrated his psychology. Conversations with his mother were always like this.
“Is there any possibility that the instigator could be traced back to you?”
Only then did Somerset answer emphatically.
“Absolutely not.”
“And? Is that the end of it? Did you just leave it like that?”
“Ah.”
“How foolish.”
Bianca sighed, looking at her son who was large in size but still young and short-sighted.
“I’ve already taken care of it.”
“What do you mean by ‘taken care of’?”
“You’re asking the obvious again. I cut off the tail.”
“!”
Somerset couldn’t ask anything more. But her words likely meant she had killed them.
“Since the connection is broken, the investigation won’t be easy.”
Bianca said coldly.
“But it was almost dangerous.”
“I am ashamed.”
“If you know that, please consult before taking action in the future.”
“…”
Somerset responded with a blotchy face.
“Understood.”
Though he was annoyed at being slapped for just playing a light prank, it was best that the matter ended here.
‘That b*st*rd.’
Somerset gritted his teeth, deciding he needed to lay low for now.
‘Acting cocky just because of his face. One day I’ll pour boiling oil on that face.’
…Some inferiority complexes burn fiercely, even without any context.
* * *
I washed off the blood immediately upon returning. I had to wash for quite a while.
“Refreshing.”
After spraying perfume and changing clothes, I went out and looked in the mirror. Naturally, my face was no different from yesterday or today. Only my heart had changed.
Today, I committed my first killing as Allenbert. Of course, this was familiar to Karzan.
‘Indeed.’
Accumulating killing karma isn’t pleasant. But I had no intention of avoiding it.
My merciless beheading and hand-cutting would surely chill the instigator’s heart. That was undoubtedly the purpose, and it was also legitimate self-defense against those who first showed murderous intent.
‘But I don’t enjoy killing.’
I preferred not to kill unless absolutely necessary.
Holding a sword means seeing blood is my karma. But I won’t accumulate unnecessary karma.
“…Young lord, are you okay?”
Peter cautiously asked, perhaps noticing my expression.
“What?”
“Well, about what happened earlier…”
Though he didn’t mention it at the scene, Peter seemed concerned.
“I’m fine. When you come of age and enter military service, you’ll have to get your hands much bloodier than this.”
“Oh, but still…”
“If you want to live with a soft heart, you might as well read books or count money.”
Only when one’s body freezes before the karma of killing will one’s neck be the first to flee.
How many knights with martial arts several times stronger than underground thugs died miserably due to weak resolve? I’m not stupid enough to repeat such mistakes.
‘I’m not a saint. I can’t die for others.’
This was Karzan’s survival method. And that hasn’t changed now. I looked at my palm, badly injured from swinging the sword.
‘The wound stings.’
I had to call Josef again to treat the reopened wound.
‘Is our father still not planning to teach me swordsmanship?’
I’ll go crazy waiting. What could he be thinking?
‘If he keeps delaying like this, I’ll have my own ideas.’
I’ve never formally learned sword techniques from a master. Instead, I’m more accustomed to stealing sword skills by challenging royal guards and knights to duels.
‘Keep this up, and I’ll become a delinquent.’
I gazed at the sunset-lit window. The sea was turning red. Dinner time was approaching soon.
But there was something to do first.
“Olivier will take a while to return?”
“Ah, yes. Because of today’s events, he’ll be explaining situations and cleaning up, so he might not even have dinner.”
“Excellent. Fulfilling a butler’s duties.”
In any case, with no one to nag me, now was the perfect time.
“Peter. Follow me.”
“What? Right after bathing, where are we going!”
“Not far.”
I grinned.
“We’re going to visit our brother Somerset.”
“Why Young Lord Somerset?”
“Why?”
I can’t stand seeing someone who stirred up trouble just lying comfortably.
“We’re going to extort some money.”