“And that’s not all. You’ve forgiven all kinds of rumors about you, even when your own magazine expanded and spread these allegations.”

Debbie pulled several more back issues from the bookshelf. Blake’s self-created hell unfolded before him. He couldn’t offer any excuses.

“So please be cool about it and forgive me, okay? Of course the person in the column isn’t you, but you say it feels similar. Perhaps since I wrote the column after having that experience with you, some similarities might have seeped in. Just a little.”

Her face clearly showed she firmly believed Blake had actually committed all the disgraceful acts printed in the magazine.

Blake’s lips twitched. He could neither laugh nor shout in anger.

The photos were painfully clear—him being locked in a holding cell after an illegal gambling raid, and another of him undergoing a search and seizure for illegal drug possession.

The photos and articles he had previously regarded with indifference suddenly stabbed painfully at his heart.

She was telling him to just coolly overlook it because similar articles had been published before!!

In Debbie’s mind, he was clearly and permanently branded as irredeemable “trash.”

“You’ll forgive me, right? I’ll take that as a yes and head home now. I need to finish my column deadline.”

Debbie gathered her bag and dashed out before he could even respond.

“Damn it.”

Blake tilted his head back and closed his eyes, feeling mortified enough to die.

* * *

“Please forgive me… Please, please forgive me.”

A young child begged with clasped hands in front of a firmly closed basement door. His legs had gone from tingling to completely numb after kneeling for so long.

Though his swollen eyes produced no more tears, he continued pleading in a hoarse voice, fearing that without making any sound, they might forget his existence altogether.

“I’ll sit quietly in the corner without making even a breath of sound. So please…”

While he remained confined either way, at least his previous room had a window.

In the pitch-black darkness without even a single candle lit, only his sobs echoed back to him.

“I’m scared. Please open the door.”

With parched, cracked lips, he began repeating his words like a parrot, starting from the beginning again.

“Blanche!”

Life finally returned to his eyes. Blake tried to stand on his unsteady legs but hit his head on the floor when he stumbled.

Still, he struggled to maintain his balance.

He never knew when Blanche might change her mind and close the door again.

“My child. My poor, poor child.”

Blanche, bathed in light, sparkled like a goddess as she opened her arms wide.

“My child, come here. My dear… why did you have to resemble that woman along with him? How detestable.”

Blake scrambled to escape the basement as quickly as possible, regardless of whatever nonsense she was spouting.

Blanche chuckled softly as she watched him crawling and squirming with his entire body.

“I’ll be good! I’m sorry! Don’t close the door!”

The darkness pressing upon Blake suddenly disappeared back into the light. Blanche had opened the door again.

“My poor child. I am your light and salvation. Even though your mother abandoned you, your aunt never will. You’re practically my son. You need me, don’t you? Right?”

He had always thought she would eventually answer when he asked who his parents were.

Eventually…

“Don’t ask who your parents are, and don’t try to find out. That’s the reason you’re still alive.”

Rather than letting his curiosity kill him, Blanche had truly disappeared without leaving any clues.

It was the worst.

The wine glass before him contained red wine that looked like blood.

Thinking about those times, Blake stared at his distorted reflection on the wine’s surface before swirling it to create ripples.

The tiny waves in the glass swallowed his face. The sight looked exactly like red blood.

He downed the wine in one gulp. No matter how much he drank, this terrible thirst would not be quenched.

As he exhaled a long sigh, his nostrils detected the pungent smoke of burning herbs. The concentration was so thick one might believe he had gone raccoon hunting.

“Whew…”

He refilled his empty glass. This hallucinogenic herb smoke had pain-relieving properties that significantly reduced his pain even though he was only inhaling it indirectly.

This place displayed a sign reading “Pain Fumigation Therapy Research Lab,” but most of its customers weren’t patients, and those without money couldn’t even enter.

Even now, Blake with his broken ribs was the only one who truly needed the medicinal effects of this smoke.

‘I tried to skip the gathering, but on a day like today, I needed a drink…’

The true nature of this monthly alumni gathering was a scene of debauchery for noble heirs—a well-maintained open secret that had persisted for quite some time.

Blake glanced around. Everywhere he looked were madmen, but this was nothing new.

In one corner, gambling addicts placed large bets on card games, while in another, drug users pushed the limits of human tolerance in their frenzy to die.

On the opposite side, people engaged in passionate affairs with courtesans, but nobody paid any attention.

‘There would be chaos if a surprise inspection happened.’

Blake’s gaze turned toward a man entangled with a courtesan.

At first glance, he appeared unremarkable with very ordinary features and attire, but he wore a mask that changed his face.

The one Blake possessed was technically stolen from the Imperial family, so they were similar items.

The man pretended to be a scion of the Mallory Count family, but considering he held the position of head butler in the Mallory household, it wasn’t difficult to deduce his identity.

Emperor Dias III. Though everyone knew Felix was the Emperor’s real name.

He regularly attended these gatherings.

Despite occasionally barging into Blake’s nearby villa uninvited, here he wore a mask and pretended to be someone else.

‘The hypocrisy is so predictable.’

Blake drank from his glass while pretending not to look at him. The emperor of a nation was losing himself in a courtesan’s kissing techniques while neglecting his empress.

Hmph.

Blake looked at his reflection in the wine glass again.

Under the same mother, someone’s life could be wrapped in brilliant light, while another’s remained in endless darkness.

Life truly was unfair.

He tasted the bitterness in his mouth.

Perhaps it was a rebellious reaction to Debbie rushing off to meet her column deadline.

Because she had confirmed him as “The Empire’s Garbage Can” by showing him the magazine article, today he wanted to be even more twisted out of spite.

Even with his eyes closed, he could see Debbie pointing at the magazine subtitle with that bright smile, almost teasing him.

‘Yes. I’m a filthy human being. Thanks for confirming it. And then you seduced me…’

He ran his fingers through his already disheveled hair again.

The more he thought about it, the more infuriated he became.

What exactly had he expected?

From Debbie…

“Blake!”

He looked up at the voice addressing him.

“You don’t look well. I heard a courtesan died at one of your establishments? Saw it in the newspaper.”

A man approached, acting familiar despite Blake’s unwelcoming attitude.

With silver hair and red eyes, he might have been quite handsome originally, but his protruding belly and plump figure made him look older than his peers.

He was Eli, one of Marquis Clarence’s many illegitimate children.

Blake drank his wine instead of answering.

“Giving your brother the silent treatment?”

Blake stopped the hand reaching out to mess up his hair.

“Who’s your brother?”

Blake retorted coldly before taking another sip of wine.

Eli laughed incredulously before plopping down on the sofa next to Blake, undeterred by his coldness and continuing to act friendly.

“You’re being too harsh. Who else would hang out with you if not me?”

Despite Eli’s overly familiar manner, Blake ignored him completely.

“Throw money into the air and plenty of people will play with you. You only cling to me because you need something. What is it today?”

At Blake’s words, Eli tried to drink directly from the wine bottle, seemingly frustrated.

However, Blake’s palm blocked the bottle from reaching his mouth.

“It’s a fifty-year vintage. Drink something appropriately cheap to match your taste. I’ll grant you that much.”

While Blake raised his hand to call a server for more wine, Eli managed to take a swig directly from the bottle.

“Ahh! Expensive stuff really does taste better.”

Eli smiled nonchalantly despite Blake’s disapproving look.

“Find that amusing?”

“I’m not a rich man like you.”

He was one of the illegitimate children who had considerable utility value. He knew how to calculate his actions.

Therefore, his current pretense of tactlessness meant he wanted something.

“Hm. Not even a dog would believe that. Everyone knows the money from alcohol sales at our stores goes straight into your pocket.”

“That’s what brotherhood is all about.”

Since Blake was officially known as one of Marquis Clarence’s illegitimate children, Eli constantly mentioned their brotherhood.

But like Blake, Eli also had no idea who his mother was.

The server brought wine and fruit. Eli brazenly helped himself to the fruit while casually questioning Blake.

“I’m dying here. You’ll be fine with your large businesses, but mine is literally a hole-in-the-wall operation. I can barely manage the monthly tribute payments.”

Eli complained bitterly.

“Besides you and me, there are so many other children giving him allowances, yet Father somehow keeps needing more money. Sometimes I think a loan shark would be better. Isn’t it too much? All he gave me was rank and connections—how am I supposed to squeeze more money out of that?”

Blake silently stared into his wine glass.

The rumors about Marquis Clarence’s obsession with gathering and raising all his offspring were half true and half false.

The only children he acknowledged were those who benefited him by earning money or bringing honor.

On the other hand, children who fell below his expectations were essentially corralled together to prevent them from causing trouble.

Unlike Blake, Eli wasn’t the type to be handed assets like the Terium territory from the beginning.

With such valuable assets, the Marquis would have consumed them himself. This was practically proof that Blake had no connection to Marquis Clarence.

“So, Blake, could you help me secure more business partners?”

Eli was the only one talking business while everyone else was enjoying themselves.

“My existing clients keep saying they’re struggling and have no intention of placing new orders.”

“And what benefit would I get? Camper ’32 is an inferior version of Cozy ’21 but more expensive. Why should I accept that inventory despite the loss?”

“I have some information that might interest you, though I can’t reveal the source.”

Eli grinned slyly.

“How about you hear half of it first, and if it sounds good, we have a deal?”

“What is it?”

“About that dancer at your establishment. The courtesan who died, according to the news. They say she earned Count Shambali’s hatred?”

Blake’s expression hardened at those words.

“How did you know that? That information was never published.”

Eli happily pulled out a liquor supply contract from his pocket, looking pleased.

“Sign first if you want to hear more.”

Eli was an informant. He was knowledgeable about the internal affairs of Marquis Clarence’s household and quite accurate.