TSBSFVW 73

Chapter 73

Five Pyramids. Driven Mad by Jealousy (2)

Ellie getting married?

She’s… getting married?

Well, I mean… if she found someone and things went that way…

The day of marriage would surely come.

Yes, it would come.

It will come.

There’s no way it wouldn’t.

Around twenty years of age, most people married and started a family. Unless they had a wandering profession like mercenaries or sailors, that was the norm.

So it was, in some sense, an obvious assumption.

Ellie was twenty now, and even before that, she had become independent and built her own life. Though she had gone through plenty of hardships, she had shaken off the rotten ties with her bastard of a father. It wouldn’t be strange if, after finding stability, she wanted to start a family.

It wouldn’t be strange at all…

She would hate any marriage arranged by Damian, of course. But if Ellie, who was lonelier than most, wanted it, she could well rush into marriage at lightning speed.

Ellie would choose wisely, and she would manage married life well.

She’d get along with anyone…

No, wait—that’s Ellie, remember?

Even when Edmund, whom even Maurice himself sometimes marveled at for his delicate beauty, was right beside her, Ellie could nap peacefully without a care.

Ban, with his well-defined features and strong build that captivated people wherever he went, was no different.

When Maurice had spent vacation with them, he realized how odd their sense of distance was. The three of them could lie together on a cramped sofa for a nap without it feeling strange.

Like baby animals curled up together. Like siblings born from the same litter.

There wasn’t even a trace of sexual tension—only comfort and peace.

Maurice sometimes suspected Ellie’s eyes were set too high in the sky.

Even Damian, whose looks people praised as the reincarnation of an angel, couldn’t make her heart skip. At most, she glanced at him, then quickly looked away, frightened to even face him straight on.

If Ellie hadn’t fallen for Edmund, Ban, or Damian, then she wasn’t the type to easily like anyone.

But hold on—she said she liked me, didn’t she?

So it really wasn’t about appearances, huh, Ellie.

Maurice, too, was considered fairly handsome, but nowhere near famous for beauty.

Maurice suddenly put on a stern face. Wait a second.

Was she the type to fall just because someone stuck around and treated her kindly? What if she ran into some shady bastard?

Maurice grabbed his head in frustration.

“You can’t do that, Ellie…”

She was careless. Far too careless.

The only advantage Maurice had over Edmund, Ban, and Damian was that he met Ellie first. He had always acted curt, with a face that said he saw through all her polite kindness, but maybe… that’s what worked.

But you can’t just fall for something like that. The world was full of people who spoke sweet words with bad intentions.

You couldn’t trust someone just because you’d known them for a year or two. Conmen could hang around for years, pretending persistence. He really ought to teach her one day about the different types of swindlers.

I’m happy she likes me, but still… this is troubling.

Maurice paused mid-thought.

…Why was it troubling?

Because if Ellie was rejected, she might grow distant or awkward. They still had to work together. It would be bad if things became uncomfortable.

And because he only thought of her as a cute younger sister, he couldn’t return her feelings.

But if he really only thought of her as a sister, then why should he mind if she got married? Her feelings for him would fade, and like Damian said, there’d be no risk of anyone “stealing” her. It should be nothing but good.

And yet, he just couldn’t picture it. No—more accurately, he didn’t want to picture it.

“……”

It felt like he could hear Edmund’s derisive snort.

Maurice was born into a poor farming family and sold into slavery.

His first master was a greedy merchant.

The man wanted a boy who could work hard.

Though poor, Maurice had been born with a large, sturdy frame, taller than his peers. Looking at his lean, lanky build, the man snapped up the boy, often repeating,

“With money, you’re a man. Without it, you’re a beast. If you want something to eat, then work.”

Every time, Maurice would answer with a mocking, “Woof!”

The man would grin, as though pleased with a dog in the yard.

Maurice made an excellent slave.

He had strong stamina and could survive even without much food. To avoid the man’s whip, he worked with gritted teeth, which earned him scraps of “feed” more often than others.

The man dealt in antiques.

Old furniture, clocks, magical items, and weapons.

Mixed among those old goods was always trash. The man trusted his own eye to sort and appraise them. If he discovered trash among his costly purchases, he’d vent his anger by hurling it at his “beast.”

But in those years by his master’s side, Maurice developed a keen eye for distinguishing real from fake. He even sold off some of the junk tossed at him for a profit.

“That’s worthless trash, you idiot.”

You’re the idiot, blind even with eyes. You dog of a bastard. Maurice swallowed his sneer.

Before long, the man fell into bankruptcy. The first thing he did was sell his slaves.

Maurice paid double to his new buyer to purchase his freedom. Then he went straight back to his old master and lent him money.

The debt grew larger and larger.

Even as he worked for his near-new master, Maurice kept lending to the old one.

“He’s hopeless. Give it up. Just because he was your old master doesn’t mean you owe him this much.”

“I still think I can.”

“You’ve got a good eye for goods, but none for people.”

Maurice only smiled.

Consumed by desperation and humiliation at being indebted to his former slave, the man ruined his business entirely. Soon, he couldn’t handle his debt.

Everything he owned became Maurice’s. The broad stone mansion, the servants who had once spat on Maurice, even the man’s family—all were now in Maurice’s hands.

He sold the man into slavery.

The others who had abused and tormented him, he sold too. Then he burned the mansion to the ground, building anew and selling it at a massive profit.

“Please, just spare my son! Don’t touch the child!”

“You bought a seven-year-old to make him work, and now you say this crap?”

“But he’s never done hard labor!”

“Then he’ll start learning now. You were the one who taught me—if you want to eat, you must work.”

“No, please! Then I’ll— I’ll work twice as hard! Just not the boy!”

“You? Old, weak, useless? What would I do with you?”

“Maurice, you bastard…!”

“A beast that can even speak like a man, huh.”

“……”

“Still got some pride left, do you? Well then, good luck with that.”

Maurice grinned brightly and waved.

“Goodbye, Master. It’s been fun.”

Revenge was sweet—but only for a moment.

“You’re a frightening one.”

“I didn’t even act cruelly.”

“That’s what makes it frightening. You didn’t get worked up, didn’t savor it, didn’t dwell on hatred or rage—you simply returned what you received.”

“……”

“With a smile.”

Maurice had only repaid things the way he’d been taught.

The man was the worst of masters, but he had taught Maurice one lesson well.

That a person without money is no different from a beast.

I will never live so wretchedly again.

Never again would he be something sold for a handful of coins.

In that deal, he had not been a person—he was a beast. The man had been right. Duck, chicken, dog—it made no difference.

The only difference was whether you held money or not.

Maurice greedily amassed wealth. Adding to the inheritance from the master who nearly bought him, he founded the trading company Mammoth. The man had even left him a surname—Herzog.

It was around then that he met Damian.

Damian judged Maurice very useful, and Maurice needed a powerful patron.

Damian intended to swallow the entire Kingdom of Rosso in one gulp.

War meant money. Everything was money. Maurice prepared to sell to Rosso nobles, to commoners, even to the Yan Empire army—while also feeding information to Damian.

What did it matter if hundreds of thousands died, or if a nation perished, so long as money was made? This was a golden opportunity, and Maurice could become richer still.

That was when he came to know Ellie, through Count Meyer.

And from Ellie… he smelled the scent of money.