Go On, Add More. It Was Fun.

Azeline's reputation had taken such a severe hit that she couldn't show her face in high society for some time.

She had lost the man she loved, and an indelible scar now marred her porcelain-white skin.

All of it was because of a single person: Astin.

"Why? If you're dissatisfied, go ahead and keep trying."

He met his opponent's gaze without flinching. Instead, he let out a derisive laugh filled with contempt.

Azeline felt her blood boil.

She wanted to make that bastard kneel right now. She wanted to make him beg like a dog.

She could hardly contain her agitated emotions.

She clenched her teeth and somehow—barely—managed to hold herself back.

If her emotions took control like they had now, all the plans she had been building would come to nothing.

She had to endure it for the sake of the future.

Scrape!

Azeline irritably kicked her chair back and stood up.

It was meant to show that she no longer considered him worth engaging with, but the attitude was somewhat forced.

Azeline, who had been about to turn her back on them and leave, stopped.

She turned around and looked back and forth between Lucia and Astin.

...So those two pulled that shit at the Founding Festival, huh?

"You two make a good pair. Have fun."

Leaving only those words behind, Azeline stormed out of the café.

Bang!

In the wake of the storm that had swept through.

The murmurs of the people nearby and their blatant stares came pouring down.

Astin's attention was focused less on the surroundings than on the person sitting across from him.

"......."

Lucia's red eyes had gone dull.

Her characteristic air of pride and intelligence was nowhere to be seen.

Her lips were tightly pressed together and trembling faintly. There was even a slight glimmer of moisture in the corners of her eyes.

It was an understandable reaction. She had just lost her closest friend.

In this awkward situation, Astin sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

Strictly speaking, he wasn't responsible for what had happened, but he couldn't help feeling guilty.

Astin was hopeless at comforting women.

He searched through his memories of his time with Lucia.

What had he done whenever she was sensitive or sad?

He couldn't remember very well.

The Lucia in his memories had never once shown weakness.

She was always smiling, seductively provoking him, or being mischievous in everything she did.

Astin had always been the one who pouted and received comfort.

'Damn it.'

Astin sank into the seat Azeline had left behind. As he did so, he unconsciously glanced at Lucia to gauge her mood.

Lucia's gaze was still fixed on the shattered teacup.

"I meddled where I wasn't needed."

Even saying those few words had taken quite a bit of resolve.

Lucia's gaze slowly turned toward Astin.

Her lips moved soundlessly before finally forcing out a voice.

"No. I'm grateful. I'm in your debt."

How could her words and expression be so different? Her forced smile revealed a complicated state of mind.

Astin pretended not to notice and tried to be considerate of Lucia.

"Aren't you curious how I happened to know you were here and came to find you?"

"...I am."

"It was partly a coincidence, and partly because I came looking for you."

Lucia tilted her head at an angle.

Astin gave a small laugh. At least she was listening.

"I was passing by when I heard people making a fuss. They were saying things like, 'Lady Lucia is in that café,' and, 'Shouldn't we get her autograph?'"

"Ah...."

Rumors followed Lucia wherever she went in the Empire, and crowds gathered to gawk at her. That was the sort of person she was.

It struck him anew what an exhausting life she must lead.

"Since I was here anyway, I came to see you, though I'm not sure I picked the right time."

"No. Thank you for coming. You even stopped her for me...."

Lucia tried to smile faintly. To Astin, it looked contrived.

"At least your 'lovely face' wasn't damaged, right?"

"You remembered that? How mischievous of you."

Astin briefly considered saying a few choice words about Azeline to lighten the mood, but decided against it.

It seemed better to continue the conversation they had been having.

"I came south for a separate reason. I came here to start a business."

"Business? That doesn't really suit you, Young Master. Ah!"

Lucia's shoulders jerked upward.

"I didn't mean that in a bad way. It's just that you're a Cardenos...."

Astin deliberately let out a small laugh.

She wasn't wrong. Cardenos and financial dealings didn't exactly go together.

If he hadn't been a regressor, he probably wouldn't have paid them any attention either.

"I agree with you, Lady Lucia. That's why I've prepared even more thoroughly. I've planned out several side businesses without leaving any gaps, and I've even chosen a workshop to acquire."

"May I ask what kinds of businesses they are?"

"The one I can tell you about right now is cosmetics.

"......Cosmetics?"

"Yes."

It was a little abrupt, but he was confident.

That was because this was a romance-fantasy world.

The money noblewomen and young ladies poured into dresses, beauty, and social trends was astronomical.

As it happened, he also knew of a cosmetic product that would become a huge success in the future.

"I'm going to develop cosmetics of unprecedented quality. I'll begin by supplying the Imperial Capital, then expand throughout the Empire. Of course, no matter how good the quality is, it won't do much good without publicity."

He had considered putting them on the market as a premium product and relying on word of mouth, or presenting them to the Empress.

But he didn't have particularly high hopes for either option.

There was only one woman who led the fashions of the Imperial Capital.

Countless women throughout the Empire copied one woman's fashion, perfume, eating habits, and cosmetics.

Strictly speaking, it wasn't limited to the Empire. Lucia's fame extended across the entire continent.

"So I'd like to ask a favor of you, Lady Lucia. When I develop the cosmetics I just mentioned, I'll come to see you."

If Lucia used the cosmetics and appeared in high society, she would become a walking advertisement all by herself.

Cosmetics used by Lucia, the star of high society.

That one title alone would make countless young ladies compete to open their purses.

If the quality was fantastic too, that went without saying.

Lucia stared intently at Astin's face.

"In the end, you intend to use me?"

"I won't hide it. Yes, I intend to use you."

It was a shameless answer without even the slightest attempt at embellishment.

Paradoxically, that very bluntness offered Lucia a strange sort of comfort.

If he had clumsily offered pity or consolation, the tears she had been holding back might have burst forth.

"Talking business in a situation like this.... You have more of a talent for business than I expected, Young Master."

Pfft—

A quiet snort escaped between Lucia's lips.

It was an empty promise, all enthusiasm and no substance.

Strangely, though, Astin's words didn't feel like empty bravado.

She liked the boldness of this inscrutable man.

"All right. I'll let you use me."

The worry faded slightly from Lucia's face.

Before she knew it, she had begun to enjoy their conversation.

"But I hope it won't be entirely one-sided. If the cosmetics are truly as outstanding as you claim, it will be a good deal for me as well."

"Don't worry about the quality."

"Good quality won't be enough to satisfy me. Are you confident?"

She wasn't some ordinary young lady. She was Lucia.

Every famous cosmetic in the Imperial Capital had passed through Lucia's hands.

Their fame owed much to Lucia in the first place.

"I won't mince words. I guarantee them in the name of Cardenos."

"Pfft—Cardenos guarantees cosmetics?"

"That does sound a little violent."

"No, it's the opposite. It's unfamiliar because it's so gentle."

Lucia placed both elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands, as naturally as if she were cupping a flower.

"How about we make a wager?"

"A wager?"

"If the cosmetics you mentioned satisfy me, I'll grant you one request."

"And if you're dissatisfied...."

"Then you'll have to grant one of my requests as well. If you're not confident, you don't have to do it. I won't force you."

Tap, tap.

Astin slowly tapped the table with his fingertips.

Outwardly, he pretended to hesitate over the wager, as though he were carefully calculating his options.

The corner of Astin's lips twisted faintly upward.

"Very well. I'll gladly accept."

"You accepted more easily than I expected. What will you do if I make an unreasonable request?"

"I won't have to grant you a request. You're the one who should be worried."

"Hmm—"

Lucia gave him a teasing, provocative smile with her eyes.

"All right. We'll decide what to ask each other when the time comes. It would be boring to say now, wouldn't it?"

At that moment, the afternoon sunlight that had been hidden behind the clouds came pouring down.

Sunlight passing through the café's floor-to-ceiling windows settled over Lucia's face.

The glare made Lucia reflexively squint her left eye. With one hand, she felt along the corner of that eye.

The sight overlapped with an afterimage, and Astin lost himself in it.

"......."

"Young Master?"

"Ah, yes."

Lucia's call abruptly brought Astin back to his senses.

"What's wrong? You suddenly look like you've lost your soul."

"Nothing. It's nothing."

Astin turned his gaze toward the presence he sensed behind him.

"Excuse me, sir. I'm sorry for the delay. You must have been startled, weren't you?"

A café employee approached with a broom and dustpan.

He treated Lucia with even more caution than he would a grand noble of the Imperial Capital.

"Are you hurt anywhere?"

"Ah, yes. I'm fine."

The employee bowed repeatedly as he hurriedly swept up the shards of the teacup.

Lucia watched him silently before speaking in a dignified tone.

"Could I order one more thing?"

"Ah, yes! I'll prepare it right away."

"Young Master, is there anything you'd like to have?"

Lucia's smiling gaze reached Astin.

Astin rubbed the back of his neck and awkwardly rose to his feet.

"I'm sorry, but I'll have to decline. I ought to be going soon."

Lucia's expression stiffened strangely for an instant.

Before Astin noticed the change, Lucia barely managed to lift the corners of her lips.

"You must be very busy. A businessman through and through, I see?"

"Yes. If I don't leave before sunset, I won't make it in time."

Astin offered her a gentle bow.

"I'll come visit you again soon. Next time, I'll see you in the Imperial Capital."

"Yes, take care. I'll be looking forward to the results."

With the employee's guidance, Astin walked out of the café.

His broad back receded, and the door closed with the sound of a bell.

The table stood empty.

The lingering smile around Lucia's lips faded away.

"......You could have stayed a little longer."

The words she had spoken without thinking echoed hollowly.

Her gaze fell.

Perhaps because the employee had hurried through the cleanup, tiny shards of glass he had missed glittered on the floor.

After staring down at them for a while, Lucia squeezed her eyes shut.

"Haa......."

A heavy sigh settled onto the floor.

***

[Alchemia Workshop]

Beneath a worn wooden sign half-stripped of its paint, Kyle endured another day, rubbing his sunken eyes.

For him, each day wasn't about living. It was about enduring.

He hadn't had a proper night's sleep in several days.

Sunken dark circles had formed nests beneath his eyes, and his nerves were taut, sharp as a drawn bowstring.

There was only one reason.

He had incurred a debt to the merchant guildmaster who claimed to rule the back alleys, and now he was in danger of being used by him.

―Compounding it is easy, isn't it? We'll handle all the distribution and management ourselves.

―Ha! Let's see how long that paltry stubbornness of yours lasts. Either boil the medicine I told you about by the cauldronful, or watch the whole workshop turn to ash. Choose by tomorrow!

They were threatening him to make a drug that would slowly waste people away.

Kyle had endured through sheer pride, but now he was nearing his limit.

It was obvious that they would come barging in again soon and tear through the workshop.

What should I do when that time comes?

A mountain of worry weighed down his chest.

Creak—BANG!

At that moment, the workshop's old door was forced open.

Kyle felt his heart sink.

"Hey! Kyle! Come out!"

"Brother, maybe he ran away. He had the eyes of a rat yesterday."

"Ran away, my ass. There he is!"

Around fifteen burly men glared ominously. They were the Jenkins Family, which had subdued this entire area.

They entered, kicking up clouds of dust. Each man held an iron pipe or a dagger.

"The deadline's passed, Kyle. You've got all the goods ready, right?"

"I-I believe I told you that I wouldn't cooperate."

"Ha, look at this bastard."

Bang!

The iron pipe struck the side table. Splinters of wood flew like sparks.

"Understand me while I'm still talking nicely. Once the boss comes, you'll be half-crippled for real."

"......."

"Get to work right now."

"Just give me a little more time...."

"This bastard won't listen to words. Hey, turn the whole place upside down."

"Yes, brother!"

The men raised the weapons in their hands.

Clang!

The reagent bottles Kyle had carefully distilled shattered into pieces.

Dried herbs rolled across the floor, while the beakers and flasks that had filled the shelves were trampled underfoot.

"N-No! That....!"

Kyle rushed toward them, his face turning ashen.

Wham!

The only response was merciless violence.

"Ghk!"

Kicked in the abdomen, Kyle crumpled helplessly. Blood seeped from the cuts made by the glass shards scattered across the floor.

"Oh, how touching. So touching. You should've listened while we were still talking nicely."

The Alchemia Workshop had been Kyle's only world and his pride, passed down through three generations since his grandfather's time.

That hard-won foundation was being brutally trampled by mere sewer rats.

"A-Ahh......."

He couldn't even scream properly; only a metallic rasp scraped out of his throat.

Liquid soaked into Kyle's fingertips as he lay facedown on the floor.

The reagents he had spent several sleepless nights purifying were spilling out in a sticky mess.

Was this what it felt like to vomit blood?

The traces of his life, into which he had ground his very soul, were crumbling away so easily.

The wasted effort hurt several times more than the pain of glass shards digging into his palm.

Kyle wanted to bite through his tongue. The crushing helplessness made even breathing difficult.

It was then, while he was gasping in despair.

Creak—

The half-destroyed workshop's old door opened once again.

The men's hostile gazes all snapped toward the doorway.

A man stood there with the light behind him.

A handsome young man with a tall, well-built frame and brilliant golden hair flowing down around him.

He was an elegant-looking man entirely out of place in the dust-filled workshop.

"Who's that bastard?"

"Hey, mister! We're closed for the day, so get lost!"

A large man stepped forward threateningly, tapping an iron pipe against his shoulder.

With the large man standing in front of him, the newcomer indifferently surveyed the wrecked interior of the workshop.

His gaze settled on Kyle, who was sprawled on the floor.

"Are you Master Kyle, the owner of this workshop?"

It was a calm question.

Kyle stared at him without answering, as though he were looking at a lunatic.

Did this man not understand the situation he was in?

Amid the hostile atmosphere, Astin examined Kyle closely and compared him against his memories.

'Red hair, a scrawny build, a haggard appearance. It's definitely Kyle.'

A valuable talent who would become my cash cow.

Astin walked steadily toward Kyle.

"What the hell are you? Are you itching to die?"

The large man blocked Astin's path.

After getting a close look at Astin's face, the man's eyes narrowed.

Refined features that practically radiated nobility, and dazzling golden hair that had clearly been well cared for.

Above all, he had an arrogant air completely unafraid of the situation.

At a glance, he was an aristocratic young master who had grown up like a hothouse flower.

"You're a noble, aren't you? I knew you had that slick, pampered look about you."

The man grinned, revealing a gap where one of his front teeth was missing.

"But what are you going to do about it? In our territory, even nobles get stabbed without anyone hearing or seeing a thing. One wrong move, and this place could become your grave."

The thug cackled, baring his teeth. His gang joined in, toying with their weapons.

Whatever. Astin walked past him as though he were a statue.

He looked down at Kyle on the floor and spoke.

"Master Kyle."

Since he was a man of such importance, using the honorific was only polite.

A source of riches that would bring him a sudden fortune.

A masterpiece indispensable to the Ashen Forest expedition.

"I want to buy everything in this workshop."

Kyle stared blankly up at Astin.

I'll buy all of it. That was the kind of thing only wealthy nobles would say.

Even so, the despair remained in Kyle's eyes.

There were plenty of nobles who were nobles in name alone.

The truly great nobles were different down to the dust clinging to the soles of their shoes. They didn't insist on red carpets for nothing.

There was no way such a noble would come here.

When nobles with nothing but a title came here, they were often stabbed, just as the man had said.

Rustle—

Astin pulled a crumpled check from inside his coat.

Snap!

The large man snatched the check away.

Even after realizing Astin was a noble, there was no hesitation in the man's gesture.

"Look at this crazy bastard. Did you come here to show off your money? You show up with some pocket change and try to act like a noble........"

The man's words trailed off as his gaze fell unconsciously.

"......Huh?"

He rubbed both eyes repeatedly, as though he were seeing things.

When he finally opened them, they were as wide as saucers.

The official seal of the Imperial Commercial Bank was clearly stamped in the center of the check.

Embossed above it were a black lion and two crossed swords.

It was the crest of the Grand Ducal House of Cardenos, the dominant power in the West.

"Why."

The man's pupils trembled as if shaken by an earthquake, fixed on Astin.

Thud!

The man's knees buckled to the floor.

"Go on, add more. It was fun."

A chilly voice descended from above.

An immeasurable abyss yawned between their positions.