Chapter 4. The Probability of Being Alive is Zero

“…A woman?”

After acting as if he had taken a vow of celibacy for Renéee Iblaine.

Evan racked his brain to understand the situation. But there was no clear answer.

Though they had never had a completely open conversation, Evan roughly knew. That Karsion had resolved to live alone for the rest of his life, never marrying anyone.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have rejected all the women the Emperor presented with such varied and creative excuses.

<Count Rodein’s daughter is very short. I can’t risk neck disc problems.>

<What kind of reason is that…?>

<This lady is too quiet. I dislike that. I prefer someone I can converse with.>

<But you once said you absolutely hated talkative people…?>

<I don’t like foreigners. Cultural differences are uncomfortable.>

<…>

At this point, even the dullest person would find it hard not to notice.

The Emperor wasn’t a fool either. When presented with such ridiculous excuses that barely qualified as reasons, he couldn’t help but understand.

It seemed a waste to let the empire’s dragon-slaying hero remain single, diminishing not only Karsion’s value but the imperial family’s as well…

‘Fine, if your resolve is so firm, live alone. You’re only the Third Prince anyway, so the imperial line won’t end.’

After years of matchmaking attempts, the Emperor and Empress had finally thrown up their hands in defeat.

There were still plenty of noble ladies and their parents drooling around Karsion, but unfortunately, they had no hope.

“Description…”

After hesitating at Evan’s question, Karsion finally spoke with difficulty.

“First, black hair. She had it tied up high, but if let down, it would probably reach about here.”

Roughly indicating chest level with his hand, Karsion inwardly repeated what he had almost said first. Description… she’s beautiful. Cute. But he couldn’t say that in front of Evan von Hilgrit. Not if he didn’t want to be treated like a madman.

“I can’t find someone based on just hair.”

“Teal eyes.”

“…”

Evan’s expression hardened.

Though aware of this, Karsion continued his description.

“Her eyebrows curve just slightly like this, and her face is quite fair. Her nose is small but smoothly elevated. She has just the right amount of cheek fullness…”

“Your Highness.”

Evan interrupted him with a cold voice.

Karsion anticipated what would come next.

“…Have you gone mad?”

The words that flowed from Evan’s mouth didn’t deviate at all from his expectation.

Evan couldn’t believe it.

Asking him to find a dead woman.

Five years ago, when Karsion rushed to Iblaine territory, he gathered all the empire’s artists to paint her portrait. Among the knights in the subjugation force at that time, there was no one who didn’t know Renéee Iblaine’s face. Thousands were mobilized to search for that woman.

But now.

When he said to stop looking for the Black Dragon’s corpse, Evan thought he might finally be escaping from those nightmarish memories, but then to ask him to find Renéee Iblaine.

“Don’t look at me like that. I know it sounds crazy.”

“The person you know…”

“I met a woman today who looks exactly like Renéee.”

On his way back to the palace, Karsion had thought continuously. Was that woman really not Renéee? But she looked so identical they had to be the same person. Even her voice…

But that woman had asked who he was with Renéee’s face, treating him like a complete stranger. That alone was already hard for Karsion to handle, and then to be rejected so abruptly.

<If you’re hitting on me, I’m not interested. You’re not my type.>

A bitter laugh escaped him.

Maybe she would have rejected me anyway, even if I had confessed. Perhaps it was better to have remained friends.

Though bitterness rose in his mind, he realized that to know the truth, he needed to discover that woman’s identity for certain.

‘I need to meet her again.’

“But I don’t know her name. Since she looks exactly like Renéee, just try to find her.”

“…”

Evan’s expression was sour. It was the face of someone who thought Karsion had gone mad and was seeing things. He didn’t even try to hide his rude skepticism.

‘I understand.’

It’s an order that’s hard to accept.

Five years ago, everything melted away in the Black Dragon’s breath.

The probability of Renéee being alive was zero.

It was impossible.

Rationally, he knew this, but then who was that woman today…

Karsion closed his eyes tightly.

‘Am I really insane?’

He was confused about himself. But as long as there was even the slightest possibility that it wasn’t an illusion, he had no choice.

Karsion reopened his eyelids. Anguish rippled in his blue eyes.

His heart, which he had deadened to feel nothing rather than endure the unbearable, had revived. With his strongly beating heart came equal amounts of pain.

“Find that woman who looks exactly like Renéee Iblaine.”

“She could be a twin. There might be some hidden family history you don’t know about…”

“Just find her first.”

“…”

“Whatever it is, I’ll judge when the time comes.”

Karsion commanded, breathing heavily. His head felt like it was about to split. Just then, Doiman entered, left some medicine, and departed.

A hero who lived on, unable to die, dependent on medication.

After watching this scene with complicated eyes, Evan reluctantly nodded. As if that was enough, Karsion dismissed him.

* * *

“Hmm, this is a problem…”

I scribbled numbers on paper, deeply lost in thought. The city was fun and nice, but there was one problem: the cost of living was too high.

Food, miscellaneous items, rent.

“I can’t stay in this inn room forever.”

Looking around the shabby room I was temporarily staying in, I let out a deep sigh. I needed to decide quickly, but I couldn’t rashly sign a contract for an expensive place either.

Since I had just arrived in Shutzen, I should look around a bit more. Try to find the cheapest place possible.

Even as I organized my thoughts, the meager salary kept lingering in the back of my mind. Despite getting a job at the Magic Tower, one of the empire’s top institutions, I was about to spend half my salary on rent.

“Why is the Magic Tower so stingy with salaries?”

Because you’re not a mage. Because you’re just a low-level researcher mixing potions.

The voice in my heart echoed with the answer, but I pretended not to hear it to preserve my pride.

“Ah, right! There’s that method!”

Suddenly, I recalled the voice of the angel merchant who had helped me.

<My household has become much more comfortable since I started supplying your potions.>

So the solution was to make and sell potions.

“He definitely said his household became much more comfortable, so if I sell directly, I can solve the housing problem quickly.”

With that, I left the inn.

I easily found a magic item shop and walked past various magical tools and stones to the corner where potions were displayed.

“So people drink potions instead of medicine. They’re really expensive.”

I assessed the market prices to figure out which potions would be most profitable. It was also good to establish connections with potential future business partners.

“Huh?”

But this looks familiar.

In a mysteriously green potion, short spine-shaped bubbles slowly rose and then disappeared upon reaching the surface, repeating this cycle.

“You must be growing plants.”

The shop owner approached at that moment, probably thinking I was a customer ready to open my wallet.

“Just one drop and you won’t need to water your plants for a month. This potion gives plants cactus-like properties.”

“…”

This is the potion I developed! After wracking my brain for months to create something sellable in a rural village surrounded by nothing but fields and orchards!

“The price is high, but the effect is guaranteed.”

“…Is, is this price correct?”

My voice trembled with shock.

I had delivered cartloads of this, and now they were selling it divided into pinky-sized portions. And aside from that, this tiny amount costs this much?

“It’s the same price everywhere. We sell according to market rates.”

“Th-this is absurd…”

“If you don’t believe me, go check elsewhere! Honestly!”

The shop owner frowned, openly showing his displeasure.

I needed to clarify that I wasn’t criticizing him, that I wasn’t saying anything against him, but I was too shocked to think straight. In my mind, the voice of the con artist disguised as an angel echoed.

<My household has become much more comfortable.>

The “much more” that I hadn’t paid attention to before now struck the back of my head meaningfully.

“Wow… so this is how business works…”

As I muttered unconsciously, the shop owner’s face turned red as he shouted:

“Who are you calling a swindler who overcharges? The prices are all listed here! We have fixed prices, fixed prices!”

But my face was also flushing red and blue with anger.

“This con artist bastard…”

As I mumbled with tears of frustration welling up, the shop owner began to back away slowly, probably thinking he had encountered a strange person.

Unable to contain my boiling anger, I burst out:

“With this money, I could have bought a house!”