“He’s changed since the divorce. Should’ve stuck close to your rich wife.”

“If it were me, I’d have put on a little show.”

Laughter spread from the table to the onlookers. Damn it. Greer muttered under his breath, his lips around the cigarette. Any mention of Lily Aiden always made him uncontrollably angry.

“Raise.”

He doubled the bet with a bluff. His hand wasn’t great, but in card games, psychology mattered more than luck. He couldn’t back down and look unmanly after hearing such remarks. Besides, winning this round would ease his financial troubles.

Billy, who was sitting across from him, snickered.

The turn passed two more times. Finally, three players threw their cards down, leaving only the last two, and Greer held out.

“Call.”

Billy said. Greer exhaled. It seemed that bastard had a pretty good hand.

Greer still had some of today’s winnings in front of him. If he declared defeat now, he wouldn’t have to worry about today’s drinks or two weeks’ worth of lodging. Knowing this, he still couldn’t bring himself to do it.

‘Billy has been calling all day. No matter how good his hand is, he’s too timid to handle a big pot.’

So, Greer decided to bluff and scare him off, pushing all his money forward.

“All in.”

But Billy calmly matched him.

“Call.”

It was time to reveal the cards. Billy’s hand was the highest possible combination. Greer shouted.

“You damn cheating bastard!”

“You shouldn’t envy another man’s luck, Greer.”

Billy chuckled as he raked the coins into his pile. Greer lunged to grab his collar.

“Whoa, whoa!”

“Are they fighting?”

Excited onlookers swarmed around them. But before Greer could throw the first punch, club managers rushed in and grabbed his arms and shoulders. Frustrated, he yelled.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Calm down, Lord Greer. This is a club.”

“That bastard is a cheat! Are you in on this too?”

“We only provide a place for you to spend your time, not a gambling den. Causing a scene is problematic.”

Since Greer wouldn’t stop his rampage, the managers forcibly dragged him downstairs.

“Why only me…!”

Greer screamed, realizing he was being thrown out because his credit was shot.

He gritted his teeth. One of the managers slipped a few silver coins into his pocket. Realizing it was a bribe to leave quietly, he felt a crushing sense of humiliation but couldn’t do anything in front of the burly managers.

“Damn it!”

This was all Lily Aiden’s fault.

Until the divorce, he was a dashing groom welcomed everywhere, but after the divorce, he became a penniless outcast. Women who had showered him with gifts to win his favor now looked down on him since he was branded a divorcee.

He cursed a few more times and reluctantly turned away. He was about to go mad with frustration. Just then,

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

Billy, the one who had taken his money, swaggered up to him. Greer glared at him. His body had cooled down, so he didn’t feel like throwing a punch, but he was still incredulous.

“What do you want?”

“No, no, I wanted to tell you about a good opportunity.”

“……”

“Come on, don’t look like that. Do you know how Viscount Aiden is doing these days?”

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“I’m not trying to rile you up. I’m talking about a good opportunity.”

“What kind of opportunity?”

“Lord Greer, do you know Verdain Weekly?”

“That shitty gossip rag?”

Greer asked incredulously. Of course, he knew Verdain Weekly. Anyone who lived in Verdain City knew it. It was strange that Billy knew about it.

“Yeah, that shitty gossip rag. It’s quite entertaining.”

Billy chuckled. Greer glared at him with cold eyes.

“It’s a trashy paper that’s perfect for scum like you. Why do you ask? Are there people in the capital who read that crap?”

“A novel is serialized in it. Have you seen it?”

Greer didn’t respond. In fact, he found the Dragon Slayer Briston quite entertaining. He hadn’t told anyone, but when he was Viscount Aiden’s husband, the butler would slip Verdain Weekly among the well-ironed newspapers every morning.

Billy said,

“There’s a rumor that Viscount Aiden is drawing erotic illustrations for it.”

“Ha, don’t be ridiculous. Do you know what kind of woman Lily is?”

Greer responded as if it were absurd. Lily Aiden was a conservative woman to the point of being annoying. She was lewd, but only he knew that as her husband. Yet, despite Greer’s reaction, Billy just smiled.

“Wouldn’t it be a big blow if that fact got out?”

Greer quickly understood the implication. If it were true, Lily Aiden’s reputation would be in the gutter.

Thinking about it, he suddenly felt invigorated.

“So, she was doing that… Ha, she is a lewd woman. Do you have any evidence?”

“You have to find it.”

“What?”

“There must be evidence. But strangers like us can’t suddenly snoop around Viscount Aiden. But it’s different for you.”

Greer frowned.

“You’re still handsome. You were married to her once, so approaching her isn’t difficult, right? I’m not saying you have to live with her again.”

“That’s true.”

“Let’s see how much a wealthy divorcee’s honor is worth.”

Billy grinned. Greer nodded. It was a win-win situation. If it were true, the reason for the divorce would be on Lily Aiden, and he could finally claim his rightful share.

Maybe he would have a chance to show who had really done Lily a favor by marrying her.

‘If she regrets and repents desperately, I’ll think about it then.’

After a divorce, who else could she marry? Only he could be her support.

And the next marriage would be different from the past.

**

Breck was generally satisfied with his life, but he had one complaint. It was about alcohol.

He wasn’t an alcoholic, but he could drink a fair amount. However, the quality of alcohol available to him as a gardener was significantly lower than before.

The food was actually fine. It was the taste of home, and despite the gossip among the staff, Viscount Aiden’s estate was generous. While meat wasn’t frequent, fresh eggs, butter, milk, and freshly baked bread were provided. Breck, who’s not picky about gourmet ingredients, found it more than satisfactory.

But alcohol was a different story. The wine available was either so sour it had to be diluted with water or rum with a strong alcoholic smell. It was nothing like the reasonably priced, refreshing beer he could drink freely in the Empire.

[I’d rather drink diluted wine than warm beer.]

Cohen had nonchalantly replied to his complaint about the poor quality of alcohol. He had let Breck taste a tiny bit of a hidden stash of distilled spirits, but not even half a glass. He said he saved up to buy a bottle occasionally and drank it only on special days.

Breck decided to solve this problem more simply. It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford it.

He opened his infinite pouch from his days as Revaston and took out a few gold coins and a decent set of clothes. He changed his facial expression and eye color using artifacts and put on his old clothes. In other words, he transformed.

“I’ll just buy my own alcohol.”

He left the mansion without anyone noticing, completely different from the gardener Breck everyone knew, and cheerfully made his way through the city.

This city also had a gentleman’s club. Although the only nobles were Viscount Aiden, the elderly Baron Proy couple living quietly on a nearby estate, and the Arett baron family who had held the mayor’s office for generations, there were still guests and wealthy middle-class citizens.

Such gentleman’s clubs usually required membership, but who was he? He was the Dragon Slayer Revaston, a hero of the Empire. His identification was top-notch, though it was under an alias, it was magically certified by the Imperial government.

Of course, this club had no way of verifying that. But the clothes he wore and the gold coins from his wallet were the best identification.

“Nice to meet you, Baron Revis. What brings you to this city?”

“I have relatives nearby, so I’m passing through.”

Breck said smoothly. Thinking he must be a relative of the Proy couple, the club manager didn’t pry further and issued him a membership card. Having a high-status gentleman on the register was beneficial for the club’s prestige. Especially for a small club with only a handful of titled nobles.

“Would you like a quiet spot or a seat in the game room? Lord Greer of the Everard family is here.”

“A quiet spot, please.”

Breck requested, not intending to socialize. The manager personally escorted him to a room outside the lounge.