Prologue

The belief that male relatives are never any help in life may not be shared by all women, but at least for Lucy Noctus, it was an undeniable truth.

“Sybil Noctus, that’s your brother’s name, right?”

A chilly voice struck Lucy’s ear, rough and harsh.

Lucy stared straight at Aicel.

Mid to late twenties. A dazzling, pretty face with masculine elements scattered throughout. Eyes that told a story even when he was thinking of nothing. Broad shoulders, a lean waist, a flat stomach, and long, well-proportioned legs that seemed unreal.

‘Did he succeed in homunculus (an artificial human made by magical engineering) transmutation? Isn’t that illegal?’

He was a man with moonlit, silvery-white hair, different from the usual silver. His rare amber eyes were especially striking, shining with a wild light.

Aicel’s eyebrows twitched.

“I just. Asked. You.”

“Ah, yes! That’s right.”

Lucy replied timidly, gauging his mood. The weaker you are, the more pitiful you must act to survive in front of a mad thug.

Was her hometown some kind of dog-fighting arena? His gaze was rough and wild like a fierce dog. It wouldn’t be strange to see a muzzle on him. Despite his refined appearance, there was always a hint of back-alley ruffian about his face.

Aicel Penden had an air that made it hard to believe he was a noble son of the Empire’s prestigious houses. He seemed more like the boss of a shadow guild than a noble Young Master.

“Sybil Noctus committed a crime against me, then ran away.”

One corner of his mouth twisted in a sneer.

‘Oh, heavens. ‘

Lucy’s eyelashes trembled.

She didn’t know what crime her brother had committed, but judging by the savage energy radiating from Aicel, it must have been something serious.

‘So my brother’s talent wasn’t magic, but swindling people out of grudges.’

Not something she wanted to know.

No, there was something else she needed to focus on.

Aicel’s large hand still held a pistol with a long barrel.

Even a noble couldn’t just drag someone off and kill them so easily, but times change, and bears and madmen always tear people apart.

She resolved not to be distracted by his stunning face. Lucy kept her eyes on the double barrels of the pistol in his hand.

Gulp. She swallowed hard.

“If it’s not rude, may I say just one thing?”

“Just one.”

Aicel raised a single finger, as if counting. He really meant to allow only one word. Lucy squeezed her eyes shut at his inflexible attitude.

‘Should’ve said ten things!’

All because of her useless brother. That good-for-nothing who left her behind and ran away…

“Please, I beg you, damn it—?! Ugh!”

Lucy, in the middle of cursing Sybil Noctus in her head, accidentally mixed a swear into her plea to Aicel.

Flustered, she thought, ‘Now I’m really going to die’, and tried to accept her fate humbly, but no bullet came.

Puzzled, Lucy carefully observed Aicel. He furrowed his brow and held up two fingers.

“That was too many words, not one.”

“Ah…”

The handsome Young Master didn’t seem to realize he’d just been insulted in a way that could be considered a crime against nobility.

Relieved, Lucy let out a breath and thought to herself.

“And… forgive?”

This Young Master, a walking time bomb of temper—

“Yeah, Sybil Noctus, that bastard whacked me on the back of the head!”

…seemed a bit dumb.