As Expected, People in the Capital Are Shitty

Chapter 1

The air in the capital was stuffy as ever.

Damn it, this carriage had awful suspension.

After riding in this rattling hunk of metal all the way from the backwater of Farne Territory for days, my back felt like it was about to snap.

Through the window, I could see gleaming marble buildings and rows of gold-trimmed carriages.

So this was the heart of that self-important empire, the capital?

Screeeech—!

Before the carriage even came to a stop, I couldn't hold back and kicked the door open.

BANG!

"Ura-cha-cha! Ow, my back."

Before the coachman could even rush over to open the door, I jumped out and stretched for show.

With a loud crack, every joint in my body screamed.

I didn't care what anyone else thought.

After being trapped in that cramped carriage, getting out felt like heaven.

I slapped Thomas, the coachman who was staring blankly up at me, on the shoulder with a thwack.

"Hey, Thomas! Did you see that cornering just now? That drift was a work of art. Schumacher would be crying."

"Huh? D-drift...? What? And who's this Schumacher...?"

Thomas asked back with a dazed expression, but I just grinned and rummaged through my pockets.

A few heavy gold coins in my hand. Part of the emergency stash I'd secretly brought from Father.

"Let's have a bowl of gukbap sometime later! This is a tip. Found it on the way."

I dropped the coin onto the old man's rough palm.

He probably didn't understand what I meant by "ppotjji," but it was worth seeing his eyes widen at the brilliant gleam of the gold coins.

"Y-young master! This is way too much!"

I waved it off and looked around casually.

The nobles in their fancy dresses and tuxedos were staring at me with disgusted expressions.

The young ladies hiding their mouths behind fans were busy whispering, and the young lords trying to look refined were clicking their tongues.

'How disgusting, having to share a space with such a barbarian. It feels like the air is getting dirty.'

They were probably thinking something like that. Obvious.

I loosened my tie and ran a hand through my hair.

"Look at those jerks, all staring because a country bumpkin showed up. The capital really does have shitty manners."

*

The hallway of the Farne estate was eerily quiet.

The carpet spread across the floor was so plush it seemed ready to swallow even the sound of my footsteps.

The portraits of my ancestors on the walls all seemed to sigh at me, as if to say, 'You dare be my descendant?'

If you've got a problem, then maybe try having kids again.

I loosened my tie once more and stopped in front of the door.

Knock, knock.

"Come in."

A deep voice.

The instant I opened the door, I was hit by the sharp scent of the finest leather and old paper.

And right in the middle of it all.

Sat my father, the head of our family and a count of this nation's court, looking like the lord of darkness himself.

I saw Old Man Corint del Farne.

He set down his quill with a deep frown.

"You've barely arrived and you're already buddying up with the coachman? You're a disgrace to Farne."

As expected, news traveled fast.

This is why families with information networks are such a pain.

I ignored Father's murderous glare and threw myself onto the sofa at one side of the office.

I answered from a nearly reclined position, legs crossed.

"No, Father, if someone's good at driving, he's my brother. You should've seen that cornering."

"Sit up straight. If you were even half as capable as your brother, I wouldn't be suffering like this."

"My brother's just too perfect. There's no point comparing him to a nobody like me. Anyway, why did you call me? I'm busy in the middle of potato harvest season, you know."

"Shut up. Don't even mention potatoes."

Corint pressed at his temples and let out a sigh. He looked pretty worn out, and I almost felt a tiny bit sorry for him.

"The faction struggle among the capital's nobles is serious. The issues tied to His Highness the Crown Prince are complicated too. Your brother is swamped with estate management and official duties right now. No information is getting through."

"So?"

"So I need you."

"Didn't you just say I was a disgrace to the family?"

"Shut up."

Father shot me a serious look.

"That weed-like social ability of yours. In the middle of the nobles' hypocritical social world, you're the only one in our family who could survive and bring information back."

"Come on, don't dress it up so grandly. You're just saying I'm the only spare labor you can toss around however you like."

"I'm glad you know."

"Aren't you being a little too honest?"

I pouted and shook my head.

"I don't want to. Can't I just go back to the countryside and farm? I'm really talented, you know. Didn't you hear I even pulled off a second corn crop last time?"

"No."

"Why not! What's wrong with a noble doing a little farming? Don't you understand the sacred value of sweating for your labor?"

"That's something you can say when you've done your duty as a noble. Shut up and enroll in the academy."

I almost shot up off the sofa.

"What? The academy? You're telling me to go to school! How old do you think I am?"

"You're twenty. That's exactly the right age."

Come to think of it, the academy entrance age in this world was twenty.

Damn it.

So this was all part of the plan?!

"My heart's already retired! And the academy uniform is famous for being tacky, isn't it? How am I supposed to wear those tight-fitting pants? I'd be too embarrassed to go!"

"The enrollment process is already finished."

"Dad!!"

Amid my miserable wail, memories from my past life flickered through my mind.

The hell of entrance exams, grade management, the nightmare of group projects, and the exhaustion of social life.

The only good thing about coming to this other world was the leisurely country life, and now you want to take that away too?

Unable to understand why I couldn't accept his decision, Father asked back.

"Why do you hate capital life that much? It's a place everyone else is desperate to get into."

Why, you ask?

'Because I've already gone through one full cycle of living in Seoul.'

The humiliation I went through as a Busan country bumpkin living in Seoul was still vivid even twenty years later.

Once you leave home, the first year is a little fun like being a freshman, and after that it's hell.

So I answered sincerely.

"Ah, back in our estate I can live comfortably without having to worry about anyone's judgment, but here I have to worry about it all the time."

"Is that something you say in front of your father?"

Yep.

Yeah, fair enough.

If my kid had just acted like me, I'd have struck him from the family registry.

That's why I'm anti-marriage.

Means my own kid would never stab me in the back.

No consequences, so I can cut loose.

"Uh..."

Just as I was about to say more,

Father spoke in a very calm, cold voice.

"If you refuse this mission, I'll burn down the potato field you cherish so much."

THUD!

My heart dropped.

"...Excuse me?"

"Do you think I'd stop at the potato field? I'll tear up the cornfield you're secretly improving, too, and the fishing spot hidden behind the back mountain, and turn the whole thing into a drill ground."

"Come on, isn't that threat a little too petty? Do you really get to abuse the authority of the head of the family like that?"

"If you don't like it, then why don't you become the head of the family?"

"......"

I lost. A perfect defeat.

They'd taken my precious potatoes hostage.

"You're despicable, Father."

"I don't care."

I shrank down fast and buried myself deep in the sofa again.

"Fine... I won't work hard, but I'll show up. Just don't touch the potatoes. Geez, old man, you've got quite the temper."

"Attend the 98th Victory Day banquet in a few days. Go there, make an appearance, and come back. If you run, you're dead."

What the hell is the 98th Victory Day anniversary?

"What kind of anniversary is this, anyway? One they keep trying to make into a regular event?"

"You know your stuff. Thanks to that, the host won't be His Majesty the Emperor but His Highness the Crown Prince. It's meant to be an event for the younger generation."

Wow, Father.

He really had a plan for everything.

"What if I say I won't go?"

"Ah, fine! I'll go, okay? I'll go! I'll go gorge myself on all the good food."

I seemed to have developed a condition where I couldn't stop grumbling.

Even while I kept whining nonstop, Father faintly lifted the corners of his mouth, satisfied.

Seriously, what a jerk.

"Good. As long as you don't cause trouble, that's enough. Make sure you dress properly before you go. Don't embarrass the family."

"Embarrass us? Please. I was a fashion icon in my estate."

"Wandering around in work clothes is fashion?"

"That's called a workwear look, Father. What would you know?"

I stood up from the sofa.

If I stayed any longer, even my precious sweet potato patch might get threatened.

As I trudged toward the door, Father's nagging flew into the back of my head.

"Oh, and Cassian."

"What now?"

"Don't disgrace the family when you go."

"That's the same thing you just said."

"Even saying it ten times wouldn't be enough for someone like you."

"......"

If it's going to be like this, then just send me back home so I can live easy.

I waved a hand carelessly and opened the office door.

The instant I stepped out into the hallway and was about to shut the door behind me,

"Haa."

I heard Father's sigh.

Man, I'm the one who wants to cry, so why is Father acting like this?

An academy. A banquet.

"Sigh."

What riches and glory am I supposed to be chasing in a life I got handed for free?

*

Once I got farther from the office, familiar faces came into view down the corridor.

The elderly butler Alfred in a crisply pressed tailcoat, and the head maid Mary in her neatly arranged maid uniform.

Both were stealing worried glances at the door.

They must have been on edge, worried that a shouting match might break out inside.

I grinned and walked over to them.

"Good grief, Aunt Mary! You haven't aged a single wrinkle? Are you a vampire or what? Share your skincare secret with me. The ladies back in our estate need to learn from you too."

"Oh, young master. You still haven't lost your jokes the moment you arrive."

Mary snickered and raised a hand as if to smack my back, then just swatted the air instead. It was a familiar gesture of affection between close people.

To her, I wasn't really a young master so much as a nephew.

I turned to the stiff old man standing beside her.

"Mister Alfred, straighten your back. You'll really end up a hunchback if you keep that up. It won't look good if you're walking around with a cane later."

"Young master, your voice is too loud. The mistress is already in a foul mood, so what if you make her clutch her neck the moment you arrive?"

Alfred deliberately put on a stern face and started nagging.

Of course, his bent back didn't straighten.

This old man must have spent his whole life bowing for the sake of the family, and by now he'd forgotten how to straighten up.

"No, old man, this is practically filial piety. What more do you want?"

"Filial piety? The family's second son is out there in the estate digging up potatoes."

"Think about it. Look at the other noble houses in the capital. Their crazy young heirs are out there doing every kind of nonsense imaginable over women, gambling, and drugs. There are truckloads of idiots who end up splashed across the papers after causing trouble."

I thumped my chest and complained of injustice.

"But look at me. How clean am I? My dream is a life where money rolls in just from breathing. A parasite who causes no trouble and just quietly eats his fill—that's true filial piety, isn't it?"

Alfred seemed speechless, opening and closing his mouth.

He looked like he wanted to argue, but was weirdly silenced by how persuasive that sounded.

Mary covered her mouth and giggled from the side.

"He's not wrong. When you see the servants getting headaches cleaning up after other families' young masters, our young master is a decent one."

"See? Aunt Mary gets me. As expected of an educated lady."

I gave her a thumbs-up and kept joking around.

"Man, I'm starving. All I had earlier was one disgusting meat pie at the rest stop."

"Should I prepare dinner for you? Is there anything you'd like?"

"Meat. Definitely meat."

A mouth cut up by that nasty meat had to be rinsed with real meat.

"Please make it a rare steak, dripping with blood. I want to tear into it with my bare hands like a barbarian, so leave the fork and knife there just for decoration."

"Oh my, you've really become a barbarian."

"A country bumpkin is a barbarian, isn't he? What's the big deal?"

At that, Aunt Mary widened her eyes and burst out laughing.

"Yes, yes. I'll do as instructed, barbarian young master."

"Tell the chef to grill the biggest, best one. If he cooks it well-done, I'll make him grill it again."

Alfred shook his head, but a faint smile lingered at the corners of his mouth.

It was the only human moment in this wide, desolate mansion.

I hummed and headed to my room.

As I made my way there, the maids I passed greeted me shyly.

"Welcome back, young master!"

"Have you been well?"

"Yeah, you girls have it rough too. Come by my room later and take some snacks. I've got some steamed corn I brought from the countryside, and it's amazing."

I had no authority, but I definitely had popularity.

That was the survival strategy of Cassian del Farne, second son of the Farne family.

When I opened my bedroom door, I was greeted by a spotless room without a speck of dust.

The instant I saw the fluffy bed, I dove at it.

"Ahh, this is great. I really thought I was going to die riding that carriage with no suspension."

Lying there blankly while staring at the ceiling, I suddenly remembered what Father had said earlier.

'Go there, make an appearance, and come back. If you run, you're dead.'

Victory Day banquet.

The starting point that would wreck my peaceful jobless life.

"Ugh, I don't want to go. I really don't want to go."

I rolled around on the bed, resisting with my whole body, but the moment I thought of my crops, I stopped dead.

Can't back out. Dammit.

The day after tomorrow, I was fated to be dropped into that war-zone of a banquet hall.

What am I even supposed to do there?

What else was I supposed to do?

Just stuff my face with cake in some corner and come back.

There was absolutely no way I was getting tangled up with anyone.

"If I just sit there like a goddamn obedient useless idiot who can't even ask for information and do nothing but eat, they'll send me back home, right?"

Fucking Seoul life.

Let's see if I can pull that off even in another world.