Chapter 14
“That mad commoner bastard dared to douse me with shit-water!”
Count Panto, consumed by rage, tore the newspaper he was holding to shreds.
And even then, still unable to vent his fury, he hurled every trinket he could find at the wall.
Clang──!
The sound of shattering glass rang through the room, and the silence that followed came like a shockwave.
Damn it.
Damn commoners.
What the hell was wrong with smuggling a little sugar in bulk and using it as political funds?
He had only planned it and led the execution; hadn’t the lawmakers from the People’s Party also lapped up the sweet benefits?
They’d been milking it during election season, too!
“......And the duke?”
“He said to handle it and take responsibility yourself......”
Grrrk.
Feeling his grip tighten on its own, Count Panto forced down his anger.
Of course.
It wasn’t even the kind of thing worth dirtying his own hands over; they would have thoroughly bought off the press so it never reached his doorstep, or blackmailed the person involved.
He wielded power great enough that such a thing was entirely possible.
Of course, in a normal situation.
He could have used his own power and connections to muzzle them as well.
But......
As the main culprit, he couldn’t use such blatant tactics.
In fact, he was in a position where he had to secretly protect that damned bastard Asterik from behind.
If he died, the evidence would be made public.
And his own name would be at the very top.
The enemies who had only dipped their toes in the matter were probably cheering already.
“So, what the hell is this Caesar thing?”
“I-it’s the name of the novel’s protagonist......”
“Damn it. I have to be humiliated like this because of some low-grade trash pulp only losers read?”
After taking a few swigs straight from the bottle of liquor on the table, Count Panto snarled an order at his subordinate.
“Take out that author bastard too. That’ll send a message.”
Since he couldn’t touch the man himself.
He felt like even hitting someone around him would relieve at least a little of his rage.
Of course, even that would serve as a warning to the Truth Daily.
* * *
When Count Panto, engulfed in fury, was doing a triple axel of smuggling, embezzlement, and incitement to murder.
“Hmm. Isn’t this a plagiarized novel?”
“Haha, as expected, he must have plagiarized the stuff Your Grace wrote in your youth──”
“No, overall it looks so just and grand that it must be the one plagiarizing me, Bertus.”
Duke Bertus was chatting in his study while reading ‘A Fallen Noble Does Politics Well.’
When you’re running a country, when you’re doing politics, it’s perfectly normal for these little raindrops to splash your way.
So.
There was no need for him to personally step in for such a “trivial matter.”
So, while he could sit back and praise himself to his heart’s content.
Several ways to turn this situation to his advantage were already beginning to form in the Duke’s mind.
First.
He could weed out the lawmakers from the commoner faction and the emperor’s faction who were tied to this incident.
Of course, a few nobles might slip past the blade in the process, but what of it?
Dogs are creatures that should bark when told, and die when told.
It was a little unfortunate for Count Panto, but the very fact that it had been dug up this far already made his incompetence plain for all to see.
Also.
Matters that stirred up public outrage like this could have the greatest effect when used in reverse.
“How could I possibly suppress my righteous indignation when such corruption has occurred in the empire? I’ll hold a press conference.”
“I’ll contact every newspaper right away and have them prepare.”
There was nothing dumber than waiting until the wave hit.
The wisest person is the one who rides that wave faster than anyone else and takes the lead.
“Invite our brave Assemblyman Asterik as well. How could I enjoy all that glory by myself?”
So.
It was also necessary to guard, even slightly, against the possibility that the Asterik list or whatever Assemblyman Asterik was waving around like a demonic proverb’s trump card might, because of some tiny slip in memory, leave behind a mistaken record.
Once again, to use a demonic proverb, it was a case of killing two birds with one stone.
Of course.
“This novel is quite entertaining. I’ll even send the author a patronage gift. It reminded me of my youthful recklessness, so it deserves a proper reward.”
Just when I needed something to divert the emperor’s attention, the person who had created such a perfect opening would deserve a proper reward as well.
Well.
I had no idea whether I’d even have time to spend that money before Count Panto’s blade came for me, though.
.
.
.
Two days later.
While riding in a carriage to attend the press conference at the Assembly Hall.
“......?”
An existence that should never be found in the imperial capital.
A blemish on the Gold Dragon.
The destroyer of dynasties, a walking calamity, a portent warned of through every conceivable epithet.
Duke Bertus felt chills run through his entire body as he thought he had seen a form resembling that of Esthea the Mad Dragon when she used to roam about for amusement.
“My lord, is there perhaps somewhere that feels unwell──”
“No, no, it’s nothing.”
No, it couldn’t be.
After all, it had barely made any public appearances since turning an entire royal castle to ashes before his younger self’s eyes more than thirty years ago.
There was no way such an omen would cast its shadow over the imperial capital at precisely the moment he was preparing his operation.
* * *
A week after that assemblyman named Asterik, so obsessed with Caesar that he had stirred up a full-blown uproar by flinging exposés everywhere.
......Unexpectedly, contrary to my prediction.
Astonishingly, nothing happened to me.
No, rather, thanks to the fierce viral spread, good news kept rolling in.
[Title: A Fallen Noble Does Politics Well] [Currently serializing: Chapter 25]
[Historical accuracy: Matches] [Completion rating: -]
[Public reception: Very positive] [Daily readership: 1,344]
[Conditions for obtaining the next skill have been met.]
[Must be maintained for over 1 week. (Current: 6 days)]
[Expected skill acquisition: [B-rank] Cae■ar’s ■a■]
On top of the feat of daily readership more than doubling, if I could just hold out until tomorrow, another B-rank skill would be added to my skill window!
Along with this, interview requests and the like were flying at me nonstop......
Of course, I refused them all.
A pen name is only momentary, but a real name lasts forever.
Back then, when Esthea and Seraphin were putting on that noisy dragon-and-hero show, I had thought I’d tell them anyway—they were a dragon and a hero, after all.
After that, I repeatedly warned Guildford.
Never, under any circumstances, to leak my personal information.
But an interview with my face exposed?
If I messed up, wouldn’t the people on that Asterik list...... the one that somehow reminded me of the McCarthy list...... come after me trying to kill me?
Thankfully, security still seemed to be holding up, so nothing like that had happened yet.
Well.
After that, Esthea didn’t come swishing in with her tail anymore, and Lord Seraphin (male) had returned to the demon frontier as well.
- Ah! Author! We meet by chance again today! Ah, this? Hmm, the capital’s security is a little poor, you know? Bugs keep flying in from somewhere, so I was in the middle of cleaning them up!
If you left out Roselyn, you could call it a very peaceful everyday life.
Even with Hector’s Courage equipped, Roselyn still makes my heart race every time we meet.
The situations in which we’d met were ominous, too.
It was a scene of a man dressed all in black, as if that were some secret organization’s dress code, being beaten into a pulp and dragged away by the hair.
To the point where a blasphemous question drifted through my mind: should I really call that a saint?
Of course, her healing power was the real deal.
If I casually mentioned that my wrist was a little sore, a full health checkup and treatment package would be dumped on me on the spot.
You could say that if it was good, then it was good.
I ended up asking, almost without thinking, whether a saintess could beat a dragon too.
- Ahaha! Hmm, I guess dragons are a bit much, huh?
She said it would be hard, not that she’d lose, and somehow that was both terrifying and reassuring.
If that bratty dragon tries to kidnap me, I’ll use the saintess card.
By that logic, it was a perfectly peaceful everyday life.
.
.
.
Human affairs rise and fall, as the saying goes.
“A-all of this is patronage money......?”
“That’s right, Author.”
The good luck didn’t stop there.
Not only that, but a truly wonderful noble who highly praised my novel had even sponsored an amount I had never imagined in my wildest dreams......!
“......Really, I can keep all of this?”
“Of course. We don’t have much we can give you to begin with, so how could we skim your patronage money too? Hahaha......”
Guildford’s laugh felt a little odd somehow, though.
Still, considering how little money newspaper serialization paid, this patronage money truly had enormous value.
Enough to move to a better house than the one whose security had already been breached, with plenty left over to cover more than six months of living expenses.
As expected......
Novels really do make money......!
Filled with joy, I handed the manuscript to Guildford.
Most of this installment covered Caesar starting to take root in Rome’s political world in earnest.
He was elected quaestor, got one foot into the Senate, and gave speeches saying he would carry on Marius’s legacy and speak for the common people.
To avoid the pressure from the Sullan faction still remaining in Rome, he even showed audacity by marrying Pompeia, the granddaughter of Sulla, after Cornelia’s death.
And.
At this point.
One of the pillars of the Triumvirate, a man of destiny who would surely have seized Rome with his own hands if Caesar had not existed.
Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus made his first appearance.
Unlike Caesar, who was now beginning to build his position in earnest.
A man who, on the strength of his heroic feats in war and his charisma, had even stared Sulla in the face and said, “You are the setting sun, and I am the rising sun.”
And......
He was the man who would become Caesar’s fated rival.
The fun of a story, after all, is
not just the protagonist, but the presence of a well-crafted antagonist.
Pompeius was a man who deserved exactly that.
So I worried a little that focusing on a character who, from today’s readers’ perspective, might seem like a supporting role was perhaps a bit excessive......
“This is great! Let’s keep going like this!”
Guildford flashed me a chimpanzee-like grin and a thumbs-up.
“Thank you. Then I’ll take my leave.”
“Sorry I couldn’t see you out. Take care, Author!”
Not the reception room......
Even as I fled the warehouse piled high with newspaper stock, my soul was overflowing with joy.
If you ask whether it was thanks to the silver coins jingling in my pocket, then yes.
With this money.
Even if Histoire were born a little strangely, it would be enough spare money to socialize her for at least three months.
So.
Today, I would erase “Pygmalion’s Determination” from my skill window.
By using the skill.