“Die─!”

The man clamped Aaron’s mouth shut, preventing even a scream, and raised his hand. Just before the menacing metal could reach his neck, there was a loud thud as the man was flung to the side.

Aaron gasped for air and stumbled backward in a panic. He needed to run, but his weakened legs wouldn’t cooperate. Tears streamed down his face as he slapped his stiff legs in desperation.

He realized the situation wasn’t going as expected when he tripped for the third time.

“Damn it, why now of all times!”

The man who had been trying to kill Aaron was now beaten up and fleeing.

Standing before Aaron was another man who had saved him. When Aaron saw his face, his jaw dropped in shock. It was the man he had seen by that woman’s side.

‘Isn’t this guy the leader?’

“Do I need to help you up?”

“N-no, sir. Thank you for saving me. Really, thank you.”

Though he swayed a few times, Aaron managed to stand up somehow, even if he had no idea what was happening. The man looked down at Aaron with his characteristically dry gaze and spoke.

“If you don’t want to die, keep your head down for a while. And stay away from Mel.”

“Mel… Is that the name of that lady from earlier?”

“Curious, are you?”

“N-no, sir! I’ll do as you say!”

Noticing the faint vein bulging on the man’s sturdy neck, Aaron hurriedly shook his head. Aaron bolted away when the man gestured for him to leave, fearing the man might change his mind.

At any rate, Aaron Baker had survived.

As Aaron disappeared into the distance, Gopher fell into thought.

He had been lost in sweet delusions, ignoring reality, but if he wanted more, he needed to use his brain.

“If they took her as a hostage, would that make sense?”

Selene Pincher had claimed Bleria was being held hostage, and Gopher thought it was a plausible theory.

But two problems remained.

First, why had Mixel Luke, after spiriting Bleria away, failed to summon him to the negotiating table? Second, why, despite days passing since Gopher began searching for Bleria, was the hostage being neglected?

Optimistically, it might be because he was already ruined. If he had indeed fallen out of favor with the duchy, negotiations might no longer be necessary, rendering Bleria valueless as a hostage.

Then why is she still hidden?

It would be logical to declare himself the successor to the title now that he had destroyed his only competitor. So why hadn’t he?

“I guess the young duke will mess everything up again.”

Mixel Luke’s actions defied rational explanation. Gopher had a sinking feeling that something was terribly wrong.

***

“Ugh!”

The subordinate collapsed, clutching his stomach. He looked in agony, but Mixel was too engrossed in venting his fury to care.

“Bullshit! After all the negotiations were finalized, are you asking for five times more? Does he think he’s the only one running smuggling routes?”

“W-well, cough cough, enforcement has been tighter recently. He’s the only one going to Whaley, so the risk─”

“Shut up.”

Through gritted teeth, Mixel snarled as a chilling sound escaped his clenched jaw. He glared at his subordinate and growled.

“I’m not giving a single extra coin. Figure it out yourself.”

“But how…?”

“You’ve got the broker’s personal information, don’t you? You’re so damn merciful to his family. Take them hostage or poison them; I don’t care. Handle it.”

“But if we do that, our connections with other brokers will… Ah, no! I’ll do as you say.”

Mixel spat on the floor and rummaged through his coat for a cigar. After lighting it, he called the subordinate, standing frozen.

“Hey.”

“Y-yes!”

The subordinate hurried over and lit the cigar with a match. Mixel chewed on the cigar irritably and waved him away, prompting the subordinate to scramble out of the room.

What a pathetic sight.

Mixel’s anger subsided ever so slightly after taking a deep drag of the acrid smoke.

‘Things had been going smoothly for a while. Of course, my luck wouldn’t last.

Nothing was going right.

To avoid Stella’s watchful eyes, he had only gathered people with weak points, who all turned out to be fools.

Maybe it was because the number of capable subordinates had dwindled, but nothing was succeeding. They hadn’t adequately dealt with the broken Gopher nor effectively countered Stella’s intelligence network.

From the looks of recent events, there even seemed to be cracks forming within his own ranks.

It must be that bastard Roger.

Having left things unchecked due to a lack of manpower, it seemed everything was falling apart. He’d have to set an example soon.

Selene Pincher, Roger Vine, and even Daisy Cape seemed to be feeding Mel poisonous words. He wondered if taking them all out at once might restore some discipline.

“Ungrateful trash.”

Still, the thought of Mel’s face softened his anger a bit. The more he thought about it, the more he believed Mel Slopey was a gift from the gods, a blessing bestowed upon him out of pity.

At first, she had been nothing more than a hostage to secure his survival.

As much as he hated to admit it, Gopher Allnight had been destined to become the duke, which meant Mixel was as good as dead.

Once the title passed to Gopher, Stella would undoubtedly leave him to do as he pleased. Mixel, who had once operated Allnight’s intelligence division, knew that no matter where he hid, Gopher would find him.

Mixel had observed Gopher’s every move to survive, learning more about him than anyone else.

He discovered that Gopher lived an extremely repressed life, that even such a stoic attitude resulted from being swayed by emotions, and, most importantly, that Gopher Allnight had fallen in love with Bleria Heaven.

“Crazy bastard.”

When is it acceptable to mock my lineage, but falling for a commoner is not? And now you plan to slap a noble facade on that woman and even marry her? My father ended up in ruins after marrying a commoner.

He clenched his cigar tightly between his teeth. Even now, the thought made his anger surge, though he couldn’t deny that the fool’s state of mind had played to his advantage.

That idiot didn’t even realize his own feelings until the hostage was taken. The plan was to hide her away until his emotions became clear and then negotiate slowly, but he turned into a wreck in an instant.

“Well, I suppose I should thank him for that.”

He exhaled a cloud of smoke into the air.

Though he failed to kill her at the last moment, perhaps due to Selene Pincher’s betrayal, her days seemed numbered.

Eventually, everything Gopher had would fall into his hands: the Allnight estate, the dukedom, and even the woman Gopher cherished so dearly.

As he stubbed out the cigar, Mixel checked the calendar. The time had come. By now, Mel must be feeling utterly lonely.

I hope she’s trembling enough to welcome my words with delight.

The thought of a bird in a cage tugged at his stomach, and he exhaled a heated breath.

Ah, but was she really a bird in a cage? No, he was the one who had pulled her from the stage and saved her from that wretched life.

~~~~~~~~~~+++~~~~~~~~~~

It happened around the time Gopher had just taken in Rex.

The dog, still unnamed, had grown remarkably in just a month, displaying extraordinary athleticism. Even the servant who managed the hunting dogs marveled at its abilities, claiming it would hunt better than Stella’s dog.

Perhaps that comment set everything off—things escalated from there.

After his swordsmanship lesson, Gopher’s servant approached with news about the dog. Since his parents were away at a party, he set aside his review of the lesson and followed the servant.

When they arrived, Gopher’s dog lay collapsed, vomiting bile.

“What happened?”

The servant overseeing the hunting dogs replied, “It seems to have eaten some grapes. Thankfully, it regurgitated them before they got stuck in its throat, so with a little rest, it should recover.”

“Grapes? Are they dangerous?”

“If a dog eats grapes, it can be fatal.”

Gopher was momentarily speechless with shock but soon grew suspicious. How could the dog have eaten grapes by chance? There weren’t any grapevines on the Allnight estate.

The servant, too, added with some discomfort, “It is strange. Your dog is intelligent and doesn’t touch anything outside its usual diet. Moreover, it isn’t gluttonous and has never had anything stuck in its throat.”

“Are you suggesting someone fed it grapes deliberately?”

“I cannot say for certain, but…”

A familiar voice echoed from behind at that moment, accompanied by approaching footsteps.

“I heard your dog died, Gopher… huh, it’s still alive?”

A boy with red hair, red eyes, and scratches on his hands stood there—it was Mixel. Gopher immediately asked in a low voice, “What happened to your hand, Mixel?”

“Oh, this? Your dog bit me. I tried to give it something nice to eat, but it’s got a temper.”

“Was it you who fed it grapes?”

“Wow, your cousin gets hurt, and your first concern is your dog?”

Not only did he dodge how he knew about the grapes, but he also responded to the accusation with, “Your dog?”

Mixel didn’t even seem to care to hide his actions. He had intended to kill the dog all along.

Why would he do such a thing? The reason became apparent in the next moment.

“That mutt’s pathetic now. It looks useless. How about trading it for my dog? Mine’s pretty good—purebred and everything. It’ll hunt better than your mongrel someday.”

The greed in his eyes as he glanced at the dog was unmistakable.