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Chapter 05
That bastard dragged Matthias in here.
No—of all people to mess with, he had to mess with the mastermind? You idiot!
“Ha, shi—. You’re seriously no help in life. No help at all!”
Bang! I slammed the desk, and my hand immediately started to throb.
When did Matthias get out of the slave market?
I clenched my teeth and twirled my pen, but there was no way an answer would come. Even in the original story, the mastermind’s background was only briefly explained. It never said when or how he escaped the slave traders.
The one saving grace was that this was before Matthias entered Frombell. That was when he supposedly started rampaging in earnest.
Yeah. If things stay like this, there’s hope.
…Is there?
Damn it.
Honestly, I’d rather have been buried in debt, Mother.
“Khk.”
Tears blurred my vision.
“Miss, I’ll prepare dinner!”
As if even daily sustenance had been granted to someone like me, Sofia knocked lightly and came in, pushing a trolley.
I absentmindedly lifted my head—and flinched at the sight that followed.
While Sofia was setting the dishes on the table, my eyes met Matthias’s as he came in behind her.
The man standing there looked noticeably neater than before. Maybe he hadn’t had pants that fit; despite his tall stature, the hems stopped awkwardly at his calves, which made him look pitiful. The skin around his ankles, where shackles had once been, was visibly sunken in.
After hesitating for a moment, I forced an awkward smile.
“Would you come this way?”
I set the pen down with a tap and headed for the table. As I sat in the prepared chair, the delicious smell of stew drifted up.
“Please, sit.”
“……”
At my words, the man clasped his hands politely and shuffled over. After pouring water into an empty glass, Sofia excused herself, saying to call her if needed.
Standing awkwardly in front of the table, the man grabbed the chair with trembling hands.
“W-what is it? Is something wrong?”
Is there something you don’t like?!
As I stared at him in alarm, I saw his cheek—visible through his hair—flare bright red.
“N-no.”
Matthias murmured as he carefully touched the cloth draped over the back of the chair.
“Hands. Is it… okay to touch?”
“……?”
Touch what? My hands?
As I processed his words, I realized Matthias was staring anxiously at the chair.
“Oh, it’s fine. Please sit comfortably.”
“Dirty.”
After hesitating, Matthias muttered the word.
“E-excuse me…?”
“I’m… dirty.”
That startled me.
My heart jumped.
I thought he meant I was dirty.
You really do have to listen to people to the end. Remembering that truth, I patted my chest in relief.
“No, you’re not. You just washed up.”
“……Still.”
“If it gets dirty, we can just wash it.”
At my words, Matthias pressed his lips tightly together. Drawing his shoulders in, he carefully pulled the chair out.
Scrape, scrape.
Even then, I could tell he was trying not to make any noise. After finally pulling the chair free, Matthias perched timidly on the soft cushion. Watching him intently, I lifted my glass.
Was he always this bad at speaking?
No. If anything, he’d been eloquent—someone who knew exactly how to rake nobles over the coals with words. At the very least, he wasn’t the type to lose a verbal spar. But right now, he seemed… far removed from the calculating mastermind I knew.
Is it because this is before he goes to the grand ducal house?
The “dark-haired, red-eyed” formula.
In most novels, masterminds implicitly followed that trope. Anyone who’s read a bit would know what it means. Matthias didn’t break that rule either. And yet, the reason I hadn’t recognized him was his dull, almost airheaded demeanor.
He could barely manage simple phrases, and basic etiquette was beyond imagining. Who would ever think this guy was the world’s resident psychopath?
In my head, Matthias was still the lunatic who happily went around slicing people up.
A timid mastermind like this?
If I hadn’t known his setting, I might’ve dismissed him as just some pitiful passerby.
No—actually, this is better.
From the looks of it, the real problem had been Frombell. I didn’t know what he’d been like originally, but I doubted he’d been gentle. Even if he’d gone dark at the grand ducal house, no one became that cruel without reason. It must’ve been a mix of long-standing trauma and inherent flaws—exacerbated by Frombell’s training—that created a monster.
But seeing him like this, he didn’t seem vicious at all.
He’s like a soggy Maltese.
Always flustered over the smallest thing. His red eyes held not malice, but fear of a new environment. Even holding the cutlery—or a simple glass of water—looked difficult for him.
He has enough strength to break shackles, at least.
Maybe he had strength but didn’t know how to use it. Growing up trapped in the slave market, he seemed to lack even basic common sense.
There are two possibilities.
Either all of this is an act.
Or he truly has no sense of self.
A younger man with no ego.
Sounds like some mythical creature when you put it that way.
But it didn’t feel like acting. If that were an act, he should be a professional actor, not a villain.
I set the glass down and rubbed my chin.
Hmm. Or maybe…
What if I coax him gently? Before he goes to the grand ducal house—if there’s still a chance to reform him…
Maybe he won’t kill me?
Still, it gave me pause. Even if things were fine now, who knew what schemes he might harbor later?
“Th-this… how do I—”
Clatter!
Hmm.
For now, never mind everything else.
Let’s start by teaching him how to use a spoon.
After several trials and errors, Matthias finally improved enough to manage spoonfuls of stew. I, too, returned to my seat and began my delayed meal.
“How old are you?”
He swallowed the bread he’d been chewing and answered.
“T-twenty.”
“Twenty years old?”
What? He’s younger than me?
Given his build, I’d assumed he was several years older. His actual age surprised me.
How old was he in the original?
Twenty-nine? Thirty? He’d been around that age when he clashed with Benjamin. If he was twenty now, that meant he had at least ten years left.
…That’s kind of sad.
I wasn’t exactly in a position to pity anyone, but he’d clearly walked a brutal path himself. And slaves in the pleasure districts were treated in ways I didn’t even want to imagine. Having lived his entire life in such a place, I didn’t want to guess what he’d endured.
So instead of asking how he’d broken his shackles, I went straight to the point.
“I need your help.”
“Help?”
Red eyes shone with curiosity through his shaggy hair.
We should cut his hair later.
Just looking at it was frustrating. Thinking of asking the handy Sofia, I continued.
“The man I called my enemy earlier—the one who dragged you away. He’s my uncle.”
I’d thought about hiding it at first, but he’d find out eventually. Better he hear it from me than from someone else.
“I… kind of knew.”
“You did?”
Matthias nodded readily. Well, aside from facial features, we did look quite alike. It wasn’t unreasonable for him to be sure.
“Then this will be easier. The truth is, my uncle owes me a debt—no, a grudge.”
Two hundred billion, to be exact.
Damn it.
Just recalling it made my mouth taste bitter.
“So I want to take him down somehow… and make him pay. Any way will do.”
Maybe in the past I’d have endured it, but not now. Not after knowing the full story.
“Or I’ll die.”
“…Die?”
I speared a piece of salad with my fork and nodded.
Because of that, I didn’t notice the strange way Matthias’s face stiffened.
