Chapter 29
Not a mere scrap of paper, but a check from House Cardenos.
The man, oblivious to the pain, slammed his head into the floor with a THUD!
"I have committed a crime worthy of death!!"
"Boss?!"
He was different from the ignorant street rabble.
He immediately realized what the paper Astin had thrown meant.
Blond hair, golden eyes, aristocratic features.
A relaxed attitude even with a knife at his throat.
Even so, it was only natural that he hadn't recognized him.
How could the Young Master of House Cardenos possibly come to a place like this?
That perfectly reasonable misjudgment was about to cost him his life.
"Please, just spare me, Young Master!"
"Young Master? What...."
"Get on your knees, you idiots! He's the Young Master of House Cardenos!"
"Gasp!?"
"Young Master, sir!"
Crash!
Belatedly, the entire gang knelt and bowed their heads.
Astin casually swept his gaze over them, then glanced at Kyle.
Just as Kyle flinched and was about to bend his knees, Astin stopped him.
"Please sit comfortably, Workshop Master."
Though it sounded like a reversal of roles, he had no choice but to obey.
He was the Young Master of Cardenos, not some ordinary noble.
Kyle sat in his chair, hunched over.
Knowing that the Young Master of Cardenos was right before him made it even harder to breathe.
It would have been less intimidating if the Jenkins Family thugs had all come at once.
'Is this the aura of a grand ducal house...?'
Kyle wanted to ask why the Young Master had come here, but kept his lips tightly shut.
Until he learned the truth, Astin had seemed like an insignificant noble at a glance.
Once he knew who Astin was, even speaking a single word required a heavy resolve.
To them, Astin was an irresistible force.
"By the way, this place is in quite a state."
Clap!
"Clean up."
Astin clapped his hands and spoke.
The men stared at each other in bewilderment until Astin's cold gaze landed on them.
"I said clean it up."
"Y-Yes, sir!"
The men moved quickly to start cleaning.
It was quite a dramatic change.
They looked nothing like the men who had been pressing weapons against people and screaming threats to kill them moments ago.
Kyle stared blankly at them, then came to his senses at Astin's next words.
"There are quite a lot of things here."
"Ah, y-yes!"
Astin stroked his chin and surveyed the shelves covering the wall.
Hundreds of reagent bottles sealed with cork stoppers.
Even amid the spectrum of irregular colors, a strange regularity could be glimpsed.
"Did you prepare all of these, Workshop Master?"
"Y-Yes......."
"What does that red reagent do? It looks quite potent."
Kyle's eyes suddenly widened. The intent behind Astin's question was as sharp as a blade's edge.
What Astin had pointed to wasn't a simple painkiller, but a compound drug requiring advanced formulation skills.
"Y-Young Master, your eye for these things is remarkable. That's a coagulant that temporarily slows blood flow when someone is struck by a magical beast's poisonous stinger."
"Excellent. Its concentration is on another level from the cheap recovery potions on the market. What about that green reagent?"
"Good heavens! Th-that's a liquid salve that neutralizes burns on mucous membranes exposed to acidic poison! I refined both using my own formulas... Could it be you asked knowing all that already......?"
Astin smiled faintly before speaking.
"Your skill is so extraordinary that even an amateur like me can see its efficacy."
Kyle's lips began to twitch upward.
A customer's discerning eye recognizing his skill scratched an itch in just the right place.
And that customer wasn't some common, run-of-the-mill noble, either.
He was the Young Master of Cardenos!
Kyle had gone from hell to heaven in just ten minutes.
"I take it mercenaries and knights are your main customers."
"Yes, but we accept other customers too. We handle ordinary cold medicine as well as remedies and elixirs."
A bright smile spread across Kyle's face as he spoke. It was quite a pleasant expression.
"Aside from existing medicines, are you developing anything of your own?"
"Yes, we are. But it hasn't undergone clinical testing yet, so its efficacy hasn't been verified. It's too risky to put it on the market prematurely."
"What kind of medicine is it?"
"That.... Simply put, it's an antidote that forcibly breaks down deadly toxins inside the body. I designed it to prevent cell necrosis when someone is exposed to demonic energy or poison."
An antidote that could even suppress demonic energy.
Astin's golden eyes gleamed with interest.
"Could you show me the unfinished reagent?"
Kyle hesitated, but only for a moment.
This man was a Cardenos, after all, and also a valued customer who had recognized his skill. Surely he could grant such a request.
Kyle opened the safe at the back of the workshop and carefully took out a reagent bottle with a blue sheen.
The liquid sloshing inside the glass bottle was radiant, without a single impurity.
Astin accepted the bottle, tilted it this way and that, then let out an exclamation of admiration.
"To achieve this degree of purity... Your skill has reached a remarkable level. Did you make it alone?"
"Ah, n-no. I have three apprentices under me."
"Even so, your skill is unbelievable."
"Haha, I won't deny it. I do take pride in my skills."
It wasn't arrogance, but pride.
"Excellent. I like it very much. At this point, I'd like to enter into a substantial contract with you, Workshop Master."
"...Pardon? A-a contract?"
Kyle's eyes widened.
Hadn't he come just to buy the products? A contract—one with Cardenos? Or was it the Grand Duke's heir acting on his own?
Kyle's mental gears overheated, unable to find their bearings.
"Honestly, I'd like to take you into the family's service."
"S-Service!? In service to the grand ducal house!?"
An offer to become a retainer, beyond a mere contract.
Kyle was on the verge of collapsing from shock.
He had spent his life as a back-alley workshop owner, with no ties to nobles.
And now a golden lifeline named Cardenos had descended before him.
―Or so he thought, for a moment.
"I only said that's what I would like. In reality, I can't."
"...Ah, ah. I see. Of course, that makes sense, haha...."
Kyle's excitement, which had gotten ahead of itself, quickly cooled.
Who was he to become a retainer of the grand ducal house?
Kyle considered a mere supply contract more than enough.
"Let's sign a three-year contract making you the Young Master's exclusive compounder. I'll pay a generous signing bonus—enough that you'll consider it excessive."
"......What?"
"A fixed salary plus ten percent of sales as an incentive. Research costs will be paid separately, and I'll provide top-of-the-line equipment and a place to live. I'll cover the wages of your assistants, too. Ah, since you'll be directly under me, you'll also receive a separate allowance for maintaining your proper conduct and appearance."
Kyle's eyes went blank. His nostrils and lips stretched beyond their limits.
Regardless, Astin continued speaking calmly.
"If I bring you into the family as a retainer, there will be strong opposition within the house. For now, it's better to give you the title of my personal subordinate. If it's merely a matter of private patronage, no one can object."
Astin picked up a piece of parchment lying amid the workshop.
"Once your skill as a compounder is recognized, you'll become a retainer then. You'll keep the same title, too."
"A-a retainer......."
Ink spread along the nib as it moved across the parchment.
Swish!
After setting down the pen, he held up the parchment.
"This is an abbreviated contract. Once we arrive at the estate, we'll draw up a formal one."
The contract contained everything Astin had said aloud.
Gulp-
Kyle felt saliva gather in his throat. Everything about the current situation was unreal.
"Why are you doing this much for me...?"
Kyle still couldn't accept reality as reality.
Astin felt a little sorry for him. He had the qualifications, yet all he did was doubt himself.
"Take pride in your abilities."
"......Ah."
Plop.
A single tear fell.
Seeing this, Astin shifted his gaze to the contract.
He signed it and slid it across the desk toward Kyle.
He then waited silently until Kyle had calmed down.
"Thank you, thank you...."
Kyle held back tears and completed the contract with trembling hands.
While Kyle swallowed back tears, Astin beckoned the burly man over.
It was the man who had laid hands on Astin earlier.
"Y-Yes, Young Master."
Thwack!
"Ghk!"
His swift fist slammed into the man's nose. The man's head snapped back, and twin streams of blood poured from his nostrils.
Astin seized him by the collar and pulled him toward himself.
He smeared the blood thickly onto the Cardenos signet ring, using it as a seal.
Thunk!
The bloodied signet ring pressed firmly down on the contract.
"You can't back out now, Workshop Master."
"B-Back out? Never! Put me to work as much as you like! I'll give my life to the mighty House Cardenos!"
"Don't give your life. You might work yourself to death."
"Haha! That won't happen."
No, you really will work yourself to death. You did in the first round.
It was frustrating that he couldn't say that outright.
'I absolutely need to stipulate that rest periods must be observed in the formal contract.'
Astin put those thoughts aside and looked around at the men.
The moment his gaze landed on them, their hands and feet moved twice as fast as before.
"Come here."
Scamper!
The men stopped cleaning and moved in perfect unison. Soon, they stood in a line before Astin.
Their newfound military discipline wasn't half bad.
"Take me to wherever your boss is."
***
An upscale mansion with Ragtown, the southern back-alley underworld, behind it.
"How can you still not have done it!"
The grossly overweight Baron Kelton shouted, spraying spit.
"I'm asking how you can delay business just because you couldn't sweet-talk one bastard! Don't you know time is money? Do you have any idea how much money we've missed out on!"
"I know very well."
Jenkins sat deep in a luxurious sofa, silently drawing on his cigar.
Murky smoke rose between his thick fingers. Even in the face of his employer's frivolous agitation, he merely exhaled smoke.
On the surface, they were business partners, but in reality, Jenkins was Baron Kelton's hunting dog.
Despite knowing that, Jenkins willingly played the hound.
He was a genuine noble, a capable man, and the owner of a major merchant company.
Working under him, Jenkins could live like a regional king.
He could even kill those who were nobles in name only without consequence.
"I told you, no one is without a weakness! You know those little brats who just run errands for that bastard? His three apprentices!"
"Phew—"
Jenkins exhaled the smoke he had held in his mouth at length. Only then did he answer.
"I've already sent my men to the workshop, so they'll be back with an answer soon. I gave them strict orders to pull out the apprentices' tongues one by one if he refused to the bitter end."
"Exactly! You should've done that from the start! He knows we can't touch him. We have to use the little brats under him!"
The baron rubbed his hands together, smacking his lips.
"How could he hold out while watching his apprentices become crippled right before his eyes? Now it's time to make money. You and I are going to be rolling in it!"
Mountains of gold coins seemed to shimmer in his greedy eyes.
Jenkins nonchalantly kept his cigar in his mouth.
"Money."
No matter how much money one had, there were things one could never possess.
Jenkins's body and mind had blindly pursued that very thing.
But after realizing he could never reach the stars, he had chosen money.
"Heh heh.... Just you wait. That Kyle fellow will become a goose that lays golden eggs."
Unlike Jenkins, Kelton was money, money, and more money. He looked only at money.
To him, Kyle was a money chest filled with good fortune.
Kyle had compounded countless narcotic painkillers and had developed some independently as well.
His true value lay in the high-purity painkillers he handled.
An alchemist who had mastered the art of producing the most potent anesthetic painkillers.
By merely tweaking the formulation ratios of existing painkillers, they could be turned into black-market drugs with a devastating kick.
Kyle simply hadn't seen the light of day yet.
Kelton was the first to recognize his true worth.
I really am a master at sniffing out money. Baron Kelton chuckled.
Boom―!!
"W-What is it!?"
Kelton jumped in fright and shrieked like a pig being slaughtered.
Even Jenkins, who had been putting on an imposing air, rose from his seat with a scowl.
A figure appeared through the doorway, its hinges torn off.
"Yo—"
Behind him were the men Jenkins had sent to the workshop.
Astin sauntered in at their head, his blond hair gleaming.
"So all the junkies gathered here?"
"Who the hell are you!?"
Kelton shouted, pointing a finger.
Just as Astin was about to answer, Jenkins cut in first.
"What a debauched-looking bastard. You look like the type to fool around with women in bed, then sit there smoking a cigarette."
Astin was dumbfounded for three seconds by the blatant insult.
It seemed like a familiar insult, and then he realized he'd heard it many times.
"Funny how it feels different depending on who's saying it. It didn't bother me at all when I heard it from someone else."
That person hadn't meant it as an insult, but as a compliment.
A compliment on how handsome he was.
"Are you complimenting me by saying I'm handsome, too?"
"I'm saying you look like a male prostitute."
"You're dead."