WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Haruto

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ The Dark Fantasy Doctor Was Mistaken for a Saint ◈

Chapter 16: The Protagonist Is Always Busy

──────

Once the business discussion had wrapped up, the trading company president casually changed the subject.

“Where should we eat?”

I looked at the clock.

It was already lunchtime.

“Right. It’s time for lunch.”

“Perhaps we could go to that place you said was nice last time, Young Master?”

“Hmm...”

A restaurant sounded nice.

The music had been good, and the food had been excellent.

Even the picky nobles of Sanctum Hill came down to eat there, which said enough.

But something bothered me.

I glanced at Eri.

A restaurant frequented by Sanctum Hill nobles.

I doubted this child knew the table manners required at such a fancy place.

If someone handed her a knife to cut meat, she might even hold it in a reverse grip.

The nobles would point fingers at Eri, and Eri would realize something was wrong, leaving with nothing but bad memories.

I didn’t want her to experience being intimidated in a place like that.

So I gently asked the trading company president about another option.

“Unfortunately, this wasn’t planned, so I couldn’t meet the dress code. Could we go somewhere else? Somewhere more comfortable, if possible.”

The trading company president hesitated at my question.

I gave him a subtle glance toward Eri.

Gustav looked at Eri in confusion.

Just then, Eri sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

Even dressed in silk, the wildness of Limbus Pit couldn’t be hidden.

Gustav’s eyes gleamed with understanding.

“Ah! Ha ha!”

The trading company president slapped his knee.

“I’ve been rather taken with buffets lately! There are plenty of dishes, and the atmosphere is relaxed! Would that be acceptable, Young Master?”

“That sounds good.”

Lunch was decided. We would have a buffet.

Eri tilted her head.

She seemed to know something was odd, but not exactly what.

‘She still doesn’t understand this sort of indirect speech.’

Well, she could learn slowly.

“Then let’s go there.”

Right. She was still growing.

Today, she could simply eat as much as she wanted.

* * *

The place Julian’s group arrived at was a restaurant called [Gastro & Gusto].

It was one of the affordable buffets contracted by the Merkuer Trading Company as an employee benefit.

Jingle.

The moment they entered, Eri stopped walking.

“...”

Her mouth fell open.

The place was far too vast to be called a restaurant.

It was enormous, magnificent, and hot.

It felt more like a gigantic factory.

Hissss. Hissss.

White steam billowed from beneath the long rows of brass counters.

Hot-water pipes beneath the floor kept the food warm.

Piles of steaming roast turkey and thick steaks sat atop them like mountains.

On the opposite side, cooling units hummed as they released waves of cold air.

Colorful fruits and ice cream were displayed like jewels atop mountains of ice that didn’t melt even in midsummer.

The staff hurried around, constantly refilling the trays before they could empty.

“This... is all for eating?”

Erika muttered blankly.

In the slums, people fought with knives over a piece of rotten bread.

But here, they kept filling the tables with more food than a person could eat in a lifetime, even throwing it away once it went cold.

An overwhelming violence of abundance.

The girl was too stunned to even feel deprived by comparison.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you coming in?”

“Can I really eat anything I want?”

“Put as much as you want on your plate.”

“Is there a limit on how many times I can go back?”

“No.”

“Does the owner here even want to make money?”

Julian snorted at her question.

Did she know how much a single admission cost?

Even if Eri sat here for twenty-four hours and chewed her cud like a cow, they would still make a profit.

“Don’t worry about that. Eat as much as you want.”

“Hehehe...”

Chuckling foolishly, she was led toward a table.

Julian held her hand tightly so she wouldn’t get lost.

Forgetting that he himself was only twelve years old.

The way he looked after Erika made them seem exactly like close siblings, enough to bring warm smiles to the adults watching them.

After stopping Eri from running off to get food before she even knew where their table was, the group settled into a private room.

“...Doctor.”

“What is it?”

“Do nobles eat things like this all the time?”

Inside the private room, before going to get food, Erika asked her question.

Julian lifted his glass of water but didn’t answer.

He only gave an ambiguous smile, neither confirming nor denying it.

In truth, the truly wealthy didn’t come to places like buffets.

Not needing table manners meant, conversely, that there was no need to display one’s refinement.

The real upper class ate course meals at restaurants, confirming their pecking order among themselves. They didn’t stand in line to pile food onto plates.

Buffets were restaurants for the awkward middle class, people somewhat wealthier than commoners but not even rich enough to count as nouveau riche.

Still, there was no need to dampen the child’s excitement.

“Don’t worry about that. Go get whatever you want to eat.”

“...Really? You won’t regret it?”

“Yes. Eat plenty.”

Eri sprang to her feet.

She didn’t understand why he treated her so well.

But could she refuse just because she didn’t understand? If this happiness might end at any moment, she had to enjoy as much of it as possible before it did.

She took a plate and hurried toward the food tables.

Yet her resolve looked different to others.

“Ha ha. That’s how children should be at that age.”

The trading company president watched her back with a fatherly smile.

Erika had stood up with determination of her own.

But to the trading company president and Julian, she simply looked like an immature child who didn’t know proper etiquette and had run off to get food before the host.

As Erika’s guardian, Julian lowered his head slightly toward the trading company president.

“My apologies. She still has trouble restraining herself.”

“Not at all. It’s pleasant to see.”

The trading company president picked up his teacup.

“By the way, Young Master. There’s another piece of good news.”

“What is it?”

“You know the Imperial Commerce Bureau will soon conduct its grade evaluations, correct?”

“Yes, I know.”

The world inside the brass walls was finite.

Land, resources, and people alike.

In such a world, free competition inevitably led to monopolies, and monopolies led to disorder within the walls.

The Imperial Commerce Bureau was an institution born from the lessons of those failures.

Its work was simple.

It evaluated each trading company’s size and influence, assigned a grade, and imposed taxes and obligations according to that grade.

In return, it provided corresponding benefits and protection.

Those who had more gave more, and those who gave more gained more rights.

That was roughly how the system worked.

“Heh heh heh...”

Company Head Gustav gave a suspicious laugh after bringing up the Imperial Commerce Bureau.

His face was practically spoiling what he wanted to say, but Julian pretended not to notice and drew out his answer.

“And what about the Imperial Commerce Bureau? Did we perhaps miss some taxes?”

“Heh heh. No.”

“Then perhaps we violated a trade prohibition?”

“Nooo?”

The trading company president’s smile grew wider whenever Julian offered a wrong answer.

By the time Julian began to think the trading company president was acting more and more like a nouveau riche each day, the trading company president finally revealed the answer.

“It seems we’ll likely be promoted to Grade 2.”

“Oh, I see. Congratulations.”

“It’s all thanks to you, Young Master! Without quinine and insulin, we could never have dreamed of this!”

Despite Julian’s dry response, Company Head Gustav flapped both arms dramatically, his double chin wobbling.

Grade 2 meant they were a major trading company.

A company large enough to trade across multiple cities, rather than just one.

A trading company that had stood on the brink of bankruptcy only a few years ago had become a nationwide giant.

“Once insulin succeeds as well, we’ll be able to lead even the Grade 2 trading companies!”

The trading company president chattered excitedly.

Julian calmly applauded from across the table.

It wasn’t as if he was unhappy.

The Merkuer Trading Company was Julian’s company too.

He was a director and owned fourteen percent of its shares. The trading company president owned sixteen percent, for reference.

So inwardly, Julian was cheering at the miracle of Mvidia stock shooting to the moon.

But as always, his expression remained cold.

He had an image to maintain.

“This is truly good news.”

“It’s all thanks to you, Director!”

The trading company president suddenly burst into tears and tried to hug Julian.

Julian leaned back slightly, escaping the trading company president’s grasp.

Fortunately, the table between them protected Julian from him.

The trading company president awkwardly sat back down.

Returning to his seat, he took out a handkerchief, wiped away his tears, and spoke.

“But...”

“?”

“With this promotion, our taxes will increase as well, won’t they?”

“...”

“Sniff. How is a small merchant like me supposed to survive when this country takes everything?”

Julian stared at him in silence.

He dearly wanted to tell him to stop talking nonsense.

In this world, where everything was ranked, a trading company’s grade was not merely an empty honor.

A trading company’s grade was a kind of noble title.

As a company rose in grade, it gained some of the nobles’ rights despite lacking noble blood.

A Grade 2 trading company stood on the level of a baron or viscount.

In other words, the trading company president had now gained the right to freely enter and leave Sanctum Hill without permission.

To begin with, even doubling the tax was not especially harsh.

Considering the privileges and exclusive rights granted to Grade 2 companies, even tripling it would only make him pretend to cry.

That was why Julian looked at the crying Company Head Gustav with a cold, weary gaze.

No matter how he thought about it, the trading company president’s nouveau riche image did not seem to come from his appearance alone.

* * *

At that moment, Erika faced the greatest choice of her life.

“Lamb or pork...”

There was a tiny empty space left in the corner of her plate.

The question was what meat she should put there.

Then a voice came from behind her.

“Excuse me, miss.”

She turned to find an old man with white hair.

He wore a neat black suit. His back was slightly bent, but even that was overshadowed by the dignity that seemed to radiate from him.

She had seen his face before.

The old man who had seen the Young Master off at the mansion on Sanctum Hill.

He was the head butler of House Nihirit.

“...Huh?”

Erika blinked.

“You’re the head butler, right? But why are you here...?”

The old butler smiled kindly and bowed.

“This old man could not restrain his curiosity about the first person the Young Master has chosen to keep by his side, and so I committed a discourtesy.”

“Have you been following us?”

“Let us call it protection.”

Erika was left speechless.

“I am Wilhelm, the head butler. It is an honor to meet you.”

“No, no. Please don’t do that.”

Erika hurriedly waved her hands.

Until just days ago, Wangcho had been the highest person she knew.

The people living in those dark alleys could imagine no higher sky than that.

Yet with the Young Master, the trading company president, and now the head butler, all of whom made even Wangcho seem like nothing, she could not keep her bearings.

“You shouldn’t greet me like that. I’m just... just an assistant.”

At her denial, Wilhelm’s eyebrows moved slightly.

“If you don’t mind me asking, where are you from?”

“...Limbus Pit. Tanner’s Street.”

Erika answered honestly.

There was no point in hiding it. It would show eventually anyway.

Besides, she could not imagine lying in front of such an experienced butler.

But the old butler’s reaction was not what she expected.

“I see.”

He bowed even more deeply.

“Then all the more reason for me to treat you with courtesy.”

“...What?”

Erika looked confused.

The old butler continued quietly.

“Miss. Do you know who chose you?”

“Doctor Schnabel... No, the Young Master.”

“The Young Master... Ha ha.”

The butler’s gaze turned toward the private room in the distance.

Through the window, Julian could be seen speaking with the trading company president.

Unlike the nouveau riche trading company president, Julian gave off an untouchable dignity even through the glass.

“Perhaps it is discourteous to describe that person with nothing more than the words ‘Young Master.’”

At the butler’s subtle rebuke, Erika closed her mouth.

Her gaze fell on Julian beyond the window, holding a teacup with an indifferent expression.

He looked like a noble born to be one, dealing with the nouveau riche trading company president’s excited chatter.

“...I know that too.”

Erika lowered her head and muttered.

“That’s why I understand even less. The Young Master is a genius. He’s like a wizard who can effortlessly whip up medicine whenever he sets to work. So why did he choose me of all people... Why am I allowed to stay beside someone like him...?”

For an orphan from the slums, it was undeserved luck.

Rather than a blessing, it felt like thin ice that could break at any time.

But the old butler shook his head.

“You are mistaken, miss.”

His voice was low, but firm.

“I called the title ‘Young Master’ discourteous because it is not his bloodline that makes him noble.”

“What?”

“For the same reason, it may also be discourteous to call him a genius. That word... feels as if it praises only the result without knowing the effort he has made beneath the surface.”

After pausing for a moment, the old butler looked at Erika.

Erika nodded blankly.

The old butler signaled for her to follow, then slowly walked toward the food tables.

His steps were as natural as though he were taking a stroll.

Erika followed him without realizing it.

“Do you know how many times that person has failed?”

“...No.”

“Of course not. People always look only at the finished result. They do not know how much sweat and blood it takes to create it.”

The old butler stopped before the warmly heated meat section.

He glanced at Erika’s plate.

There was still an empty space.

“Ah, I recommend the lamb. The rosemary fragrance is excellent. There is nothing better for someone trying lamb for the first time.”

“Ah... Okay.”

Clink.

The old butler picked up silver tongs and personally placed meat on Erika’s plate.

“...!”

Erika startled and tried to step back, but he continued gently.

“Miss. Would you answer this old man’s question?”

Looking at the steaming steak, he spoke as if reciting a poem.

“A noble, born with nobility carved into their bloodline.

A genius, granted talent by God and able to change the world with ease.

And...”

The old butler’s gaze slowly reached Erika.

“A person born with nothing, yet walking a thorny path alone while bearing a noble mission.”

His eyes grew deep and solemn.

“Which of these do you believe is the most brilliant title?”

Erika stopped breathing.

She wanted to answer, but the words would not leave her lips.

The butler smiled in satisfaction, as though that reaction itself were the answer.

“Then let me ask one final question. What kind of person do you think you must become to stand beside someone like that?”

“...”

Erika moved her lips, but no voice came out.

It was not because she did not know the answer.

It was because she instinctively understood the weight she would have to bear the moment she spoke it aloud.

Perhaps he read that hesitation.

The old butler’s eyes curved softly.

“You do not have to answer right now. If clothes are too large, you simply grow into them. I can see that you have more than enough potential to do so.”

“...”

“Now, let us go. The meat will get cold.”

As if they had not just discussed something heavy, the old man smiled kindly again and turned toward the dessert section.

Then, as though he had suddenly remembered something, he stopped and whispered quietly enough for only Erika to hear.

“Oh, did you know?”

“?”

“This old man used to eat Supply Block No. 13, and the thing I hated most in the world was getting a cricket’s hind leg stuck between my teeth.”

“...What?”

Supply Block No. 13.

A cricket nutrition bar given to the poor so the city could maintain a minimum labor force.

And for the head butler of Sanctum Hill to mention that meant...

Erika’s eyes widened.

But the old butler placed a finger to his lips, winked, and went, “Shh.”

“There is no reason you cannot do it too, miss. You may hold your head high.”

“...!”

He bowed politely and turned his back to her.

“Please enjoy your meal, miss.”

Erika could not move for a long while.

Amid the bustling noise of the buffet, the plate in her hands felt unbearably heavy.

Footnotes:

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