Her reputation took a serious hit, and Azelin wouldn't be able to show her face in high society for a while.
She had lost love, and an indelible scar had appeared on her jade-white skin.
All because of one person: Astin.
"Why? If you're still upset, then keep trying."
He met her gaze without looking away. Instead, he let out a mocking laugh filled with contempt.
Azelin felt her blood boil.
She wanted to force that bastard to his knees right then and there. She wanted to make him beg like a dog.
She could hardly hold back her fury.
Clenching her teeth, she barely managed to restrain herself.
If she let her emotions get the better of her now, all the plans she'd been building would go up in smoke.
She had to hold back, if only for the sake of what came later.
Rrrr!
Azelin abruptly shoved her chair back and stood.
It was a clear sign that she no longer considered him worth her time, though her behavior was rather forced.
Azelin had been about to turn her back on them and leave, but she stopped.
She turned and looked from Lucia to Astin.
'So those two pulled that crap at the Founding Day Festival?'
"You two look good together. Have fun."
Leaving only those words behind, Azelin stormed out of the cafe.
Bang!
In the wake of the storm that had just swept through.
The murmuring of the people around them and their blatant stares poured down on them.
Astin's attention was focused not on those around him, but on the person across from him.
"......."
Lucia's red eyes were downcast.
Her usual proud and intelligent air was nowhere to be seen.
Her lips were pressed tightly together and trembled faintly. A trace of moisture had gathered at the corners of her eyes.
It was an understandable reaction. She had just lost her closest friend.
Given the awkward situation, Astin sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.
Strictly speaking, he wasn't at fault, but he couldn't help feeling guilty.
He was hopeless at comforting women.
Astin tried to recall the times he'd spent with Lucia.
What had he done whenever she was upset or sad?
He couldn't remember.
In his memories, Lucia had never once shown weakness.
She was always smiling, provocatively teasing him, or being mischievous about everything.
Astin had always been the one to sulk and seek comfort.
'Damn it.'
Astin sank into the seat Azelin had left behind. Without realizing it, he glanced anxiously at Lucia.
Lucia's gaze was still fixed on the shattered teacup.
"I stuck my nose where it didn't belong."
It took quite a bit of resolve just to say that much.
Lucia slowly turned her gaze toward Astin.
Her lips, which had been parting and closing, struggled to form a sound.
"No. I'm grateful. I owe you one."
How could her words and expression be so different? Her forced smile revealed a complicated mix of emotions.
Astin pretended not to notice and gave Lucia some consideration.
"Don't you wonder how I happened to find out and come here?"
"...I do."
"It was partly a coincidence, and partly because I came looking for you."
Lucia tilted her head to one side.
Astin gave a small laugh. At least she was listening.
"I was passing by when I overheard people talking. They said that Young Lady Lucia was at that cafe and wondered if they should get your autograph. They were making quite a fuss."
"Ah...."
Wherever she went in the Empire, rumors followed and crowds gathered. That was the kind of person Lucia was.
It was nothing new, but her life really couldn't have been easy.
"I thought I'd stop by and see you while I was here, but I don't know if I picked the wrong time."
"No. Thank you for coming. You even stood up for me, Young Master...."
Lucia smiled faintly. To Astin, it looked forced.
"At least my 'pretty face' didn't get hurt, right?"
"You remember that? You're so mischievous."
Astin considered insulting Azelin to lighten the mood, but decided against it.
It seemed better to just continue their conversation.
"I came to the South for another reason. I came here to start a business."
"A business? That doesn't really suit you, Young Master. Ah!"
Lucia's shoulders jumped.
"I didn't mean it in a bad way. It's just that you're a Kardenos...."
Astin deliberately let out a quiet laugh.
She wasn't wrong. Business and the Kardenos name didn't exactly go together.
If he hadn't undergone Regression, he wouldn't have given it a second thought.
"I agree with you, Young Lady. That's why I've prepared all the more thoroughly. I've planned out every side venture and even picked out a workshop to acquire."
"May I ask what kind?"
"The one I can tell you about right now is cosmetics.
"......Cosmetics?"
"Yes."
It was a little unexpected, but he was confident.
After all, 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 cosmetics that would be a huge hit in the future.
"I'm going to develop cosmetics with the highest quality in history. I plan to supply them throughout the Empire, starting with the Imperial Capital. Of course, no matter how good the quality is, it'll be useless without publicity."
He'd considered releasing them as a premium product and relying on word of mouth, or presenting them to the empress.
But he didn't have high hopes for either option.
There was only one woman who set the trends in the Imperial Capital.
Countless women across the Empire copied one woman's fashion, perfume, eating habits, and cosmetics.
Strictly speaking, her influence wasn't limited to the Empire. Lucia's fame had spread across the continent.
"So I'd like to ask you for a favor, Young Lady. When the cosmetics I just mentioned are ready, I'll come see you."
If Lucia used those cosmetics and appeared in high society, she'd be a walking advertisement.
Cosmetics used by Lucia, the star of high society.
That title alone would have countless young ladies rushing to open their purses.
And if the quality was incredible, there'd be no question.
Lucia stared intently at Astin's face.
"So in the end, you want to use me?"
"I won't hide it. Yes, I do want to use you, Young Lady."
His shameless answer contained not the slightest attempt at sugarcoating.
Ironically, that bluntness offered Lucia an odd sort of comfort.
If he'd awkwardly pitied her or tried to console her, she might have burst into tears after holding them back for so long.
"To talk business in a situation like this.... You might be surprisingly good at business, Young Master."
Pfft—
A quiet laugh escaped Lucia's lips.
It was an empty promise that sounded neither plausible nor like anything more than enthusiasm.
Strangely, Astin's words didn't feel like boasting.
She liked the audacity of this mysterious man.
"All right. I'll let you use me without putting up a fight."
The worry on Lucia's face eased.
At some point, she had begun to enjoy their conversation.
"But I hope I won't be the only one getting used. If the cosmetics really are as good as you say, it'll be a good deal for me, too."
"Don't worry about the quality."
"Good quality won't be enough to satisfy me. Are you confident?"
She wasn't just any young lady. She was Lucia.
Every famous cosmetic product in the Imperial Capital had passed through Lucia's hands.
Their fame owed a great deal to her.
"I won't go on about it. I guarantee them in the name of Kardenos."
"Ha! Kardenos is guaranteeing cosmetics?"
"It does sound a bit aggressive."
"Come on, it's the opposite. It's so mild that it feels strange."
Lucia rested both elbows on the table. She propped her chin up naturally, as if holding a flower.
"How about we make a bet?"
"A bet?"
"If the cosmetics you mentioned satisfy me, I'll grant you one request."
"And if you're not satisfied...."
"Then you have to grant one of my requests. If you're not confident, you don't have to do it. I won't force you."
Tap, tap.
Astin slowly drummed his fingertips on the table.
He made it seem as though he were hesitating over the bet, carefully weighing his options.
The corner of Astin's mouth curled up ever so slightly.
"All right. I gladly accept."
"You accepted more easily than I expected. What if I make an unreasonable request?"
"I won't be the one granting a request. You should be the one worrying, Young Lady."
"Hmm."
Lucia gave him a teasing smile.
"All right. We'll tell each other what we want when the time comes. It wouldn't be any fun if we said it now."
Just then, the afternoon sunlight that had been hidden behind the clouds spilled down.
Sunlight streamed through the cafe's floor-to-ceiling windows and settled over Lucia's face.
The brightness made Lucia instinctively squint her left eye. She touched the corner of it with one hand.
The sight overlapped with an image from his memory, and Astin lost himself in it.
"......."
"Young Master?"
"Ah, yes."
At Lucia's call, Astin suddenly came back to his senses.
"What's wrong? You suddenly spaced out."
"It's nothing."
Astin turned at the presence he sensed behind him.
"Excuse me, sir. I'm sorry for the delay. You must have been startled."
A cafe employee approached with a broom and dustpan.
They treated Lucia with more care than they would a high-ranking noble of the Imperial Capital.
"Are you hurt?"
"Oh, no. I'm fine."
The employee bowed repeatedly as he hurried to sweep up the teacup shards.
Lucia watched him quietly, then spoke with poise.
"Could I place another order?"
"Ah, yes! I'll prepare it right away."
"Young Master, is there anything you'd like?"
Lucia's smiling gaze fell on Astin.
Astin rubbed the back of his neck and awkwardly rose to his feet.
"I'm sorry, but I'll have to decline. I should be going soon."
For a moment, Lucia's expression stiffened strangely.
Before Astin could notice the change, Lucia managed to lift the corners of her mouth.
"You must be very busy. A man of business, I see."
"Yes. I should leave before sunset if I don't want to be late."
Astin offered a courteous bow.
"I'll come see you again soon. Let's meet in the Imperial Capital next time."
"All right. Travel safely. I'll be looking forward to the results."
Astin followed the employee's directions and headed out of the cafe.
His broad back receded, and the door closed with a chime.
The table stood empty.
The lingering smile at the corners of Lucia's lips faded.
"......You could've stayed a little longer."
The words slipped out before she could stop them and echoed emptily.
Her gaze dropped.
Perhaps because the employee had hurried to clean up, tiny glass shards still glittered on the floor.
Lucia stared down at them, then squeezed her eyes shut.
"Haah......."
A heavy sigh sank to the floor.
***
[Alchemia Workshop]
Beneath the old wooden sign, its paint half peeled away, Kyle rubbed his sunken eyes and struggled through another day.
For him, every day wasn't something to live through, but something to endure.
He hadn't had a proper night's sleep in days.
Deep, sunken circles had formed beneath his eyes, and his nerves were as taut as a drawn bowstring.
There was only one reason.
He'd fallen into debt to the Merchant Guild Master, who claimed to be the power behind the back alleys, and now he was at risk of being used.
-All you have to do is brew it, right? We'll handle all the distribution and management.
-Ha! Let's see how long that pathetic stubbornness of yours lasts. Either brew the medicine I told you about by the cauldronful, or let your entire workshop burn to ashes. Decide by tomorrow!
They'd threatened him, ordering him to make a drug that would slowly kill people.
Kyle had endured it through sheer pride, but he'd reached his breaking point.
It was only a matter of time before those bastards came back and tore the workshop apart.
What should I do when that happens?
A mountain of worry weighed on his chest.
Creeeeak—Bam!
Just then, the workshop's old door flew open.
Kyle felt his heart sink.
"Hey! Kyle! Get out here!"
"Boss, maybe he ran off in the meantime. He had the eyes of a rat yesterday."
"Ran off, my ass. He's right there!"
A dozen or so burly men glared menacingly. They were the Jenkins Family, the gang that ruled this area.
They kicked up clouds of dust as they entered. Each man held a steel pipe or a dagger.
"Your deadline's passed, Kyle. You got the goods ready?"
"I-I told you I wouldn't cooperate."
"Ha, look at this bastard."
Bang!
A steel pipe slammed into a side table. Splinters flew like sparks.
"Listen while we're still talking. If the boss shows up, you'll be a cripple for real."
"......."
"Get to work. Now."
"Just give me a little more time...."
"This bastard doesn't understand words. Hey, turn the whole place upside down."
"Yes, boss!"
The men raised the weapons in their hands.
Crash!
The reagent bottles Kyle had carefully distilled shattered into pieces.
Dried herbs tumbled across the floor, and the beakers and flasks that had filled the shelves were trampled underfoot.
"N-No! That's......!"
Kyle rushed over, his face drained of color.
Thwack!
What he got in return was merciless violence.
"Kh!"
Kyle was kicked in the stomach and crumpled helplessly. Blood seeped from cuts made by the glass shards scattered across the floor.
"Aw, how touching. You should've listened when we were talking."
The Alchemia Workshop had been Kyle's only world and source of pride for three generations, ever since his grandfather's time.
That home, built through blood, sweat, and tears, was being mercilessly trampled by a bunch of sewer rats.
"A-Ah......."
He couldn't even scream properly. Only a metallic rasp scraped out of his throat.
Moisture soaked into Kyle's fingertips as he lay face down on the floor.
The reagents he'd spent several sleepless nights refining were spilling out in a sticky mess.
Was this what it felt like to cough up blood?
The traces of his life's work, into which he'd poured his very soul, had crumbled so easily.
The effort he'd poured into them hurt many times more than the glass digging into his palm.
Kyle wanted to bite down on his tongue right then and there. The crushing helplessness made it hard to breathe.
It happened as he lay there, gasping in despair.
Creeeeak—
The workshop's old, half-broken door opened once more.
The men all turned their menacing gazes toward the doorway.
A man stood there with the light behind him.
A handsome young man with a tall frame and brilliant golden hair.
He looked far too refined for a workshop full of drifting dust.
"Who's that bastard?"
"Hey, you! We're closed for the day, so get lost!"
A burly man stepped forward threateningly, tapping a steel pipe against his shoulder.
The man before him casually surveyed the wrecked workshop.
His gaze settled on Kyle, sprawled on the floor.
"Are you the Workshop Owner, Kyle?"
The question was calm.
Kyle stared back without answering, as if he were looking at a madman.
Didn't this man understand what was going on?
Amid the threatening atmosphere, Astin studied Kyle closely and compared him with his memories.
'Red hair, bony frame, haggard look. That's definitely Kyle.'
A valuable talent who'd become his money-making machine.
Astin strode toward Kyle.
"What's with this bastard? Are you itching to die?"
The burly man blocked Astin's path.
When he got a good look at Astin's face, his eyes narrowed.
His refined features practically oozed nobility, and his dazzling golden hair was clearly well cared for.
More than anything, he had an arrogant air and not the slightest fear of the situation.
He was obviously a noble young master raised in a greenhouse.
"You're a noble, aren't you? No wonder your face is so damn greasy."
The man grinned, showing the gap in his front teeth.
"But what are you gonna do about it? In our territory, nobles get knifed without a trace. You could end up buried here in a heartbeat."
The thug laughed as he ran his mouth. His gang followed suit, fingering their weapons.
Astin ignored him and walked past as if he were a statue.
Looking down at Kyle on the floor, he spoke.
"Workshop Owner Kyle."
The honorific was only proper for such an important person.
A fortune who would bring him a windfall.
A masterpiece essential to the Ashen Forest Expedition.
"I'd like to buy everything in this workshop."
Kyle stared blankly up at Astin.
He'd buy everything. It was the sort of thing only a wealthy noble would say.
Even so, despair remained in Kyle's eyes.
There were plenty of nobles in name only.
The filth that stuck to the shoe soles of the noblest nobles was different from everyone else's. There was a reason they insisted on red carpets.
There was no way someone like that would come here.
When nobles with nothing but a title came here, they usually got knifed, just as the man had said.
Swish—
Astin pulled a crumpled check from his pocket.
Snatch!
The burly man grabbed the check.
Even after realizing Astin was a noble, he didn't hesitate for a moment.
"Look at this crazy bastard. You come here to show off your money? You bring some paltry sum and act like a noble..."
The man's voice trailed off as he glanced down at the check.
"......Huh?"
He rubbed his eyes over and over, as if he were seeing things.
When he finally looked again, his eyes had widened like saucers.
Stamped clearly in the center of the check was the Imperial Commercial Bank's official seal.
Above it was an embossed Black Lion with two crossed swords.
It was the crest of the House of Kardenos, the ruling power of the West.
"Why?"
His trembling pupils, as if shaken by an earthquake, fixed on Astin.
Thump!
The man's knees dropped to the floor.
"Keep going. This was fun."
A cold voice fell from above.
The gulf between their positions was unfathomable.