WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Haruto

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ The Pushover Young Lord in a Romance Fantasy Won't Take It Anymore ◈

Chapter 28: Do More, It Was Fun

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The blow to Azelin's reputation was so severe that she could not show her face in high society for some time.

She had lost her love, and her porcelain-like skin now bore a scar that would never fade.

All because of one man, Astin.

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

Astin met her gaze without avoiding it, even letting out a scornful laugh filled with contempt.

Azelin felt blood rush to her head.

She wanted to force that bastard to his knees immediately. She wanted to make him beg like a dog.

It was almost impossible to restrain her surging emotions.

Gritting her teeth, she barely, just barely held herself back.

If emotions got the better of her now, all the plans she had built up would vanish like bubbles.

For the sake of what came later, she had to endure it for now.

Screech!

Azelin shoved her chair back and rose irritably.

It was meant to show that there was no longer any reason to engage further, though the gesture felt somewhat forced.

Azelin stopped just as she turned her back on the two of them to leave.

Turning around, she looked between Lucia and Astin.

...So those two pulled that bullshit at the Founding Festival?

"You two suit each other. Good luck."

Leaving only those words behind, Azelin coldly left the café.

Bang!

A storm had swept through the place.

Whispers and blatant stares poured in from all around.

Astin was more conscious of Lucia across the table than of the people nearby.

"......"

Lucia's red eyes had darkened.

Lucia's usual dignified and intelligent air had vanished without a trace.

Her lips were pressed tightly together and trembled faintly. Moisture had even gathered at the corners of her eyes.

Lucia had just lost a close friend. It was an understandable reaction.

Feeling awkward, Astin rubbed the back of his neck.

Strictly speaking, he bore no responsibility, but he could not help feeling indebted.

He was hopeless at comforting women.

Astin searched through his memories of time spent with Lucia.

What did I do whenever she was sensitive or sad?

He could not remember very well.

The Lucia in his memories had never once shown weakness.

Lucia was always smiling, seductively provoking him, or teasing him about something.

The one who whined and received comfort had always been Astin.

'Damn it.'

Astin sat heavily in Azelin's vacant seat. Without realizing it, he carefully watched Lucia's reaction.

Lucia's gaze remained fixed on the shattered teacup.

"I meddled where I didn't need to."

It took considerable resolve to say even that much.

Lucia slowly turned to look at Astin.

Her lips opened and closed soundlessly before she finally forced out her voice.

"No. I'm grateful. You helped me."

How could Lucia's words and expression differ so much? A complicated turmoil showed through the forced smile.

Astin pretended not to notice and gave Lucia space.

"Aren't you curious how I found out and came here?"

"...I am."

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

Lucia tilted her head slightly.

Astin gave a quiet laugh. At least Lucia was listening.

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

"Ah..."

Wherever Lucia went in the Empire, rumors followed and spectators gathered.

Lucia was that kind of person.

It was nothing new, but what an exhausting life it must be.

"I came by since I was already here and wanted to see you, but perhaps my timing was poor."

"No, I'm grateful you came. You stopped her, too..."

Lucia offered a faint smile. To Astin, it looked forced.

"Thanks to me, your 'pretty face' wasn't hurt, was it?"

"You remembered that. You're so mean."

Astin briefly considered easing the mood by badmouthing Azelin, then decided against it.

It seemed better to continue their conversation instead.

"I came south for another reason. I'm here to start a business."

"A business? It doesn't seem to suit you, Young Lord. Ah!"

Lucia's shoulders jumped.

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

Astin deliberately laughed softly.

Lucia was not wrong. Cardenos and making money did not exactly go together.

If Astin had not regressed, he would never have taken an interest in it.

"I agree with you, Lady Lucia. That is why I prepared all the more thoroughly. I have planned every ancillary business without leaving any gaps, and I have even picked out a workshop business to acquire."

"May I ask what kind of business it is?"

"The one thing I can tell you right away is cosmetics."

"......Cosmetics?"

"Yes."

It was a little unexpected, but Astin was certain.

This was a romance fantasy world.

The money noblewomen and young ladies spent on dresses, beauty, and social trends was astronomical.

Besides, Astin knew of cosmetics that would become a huge success in the future.

"I intend to develop cosmetics of unprecedented quality. I'll begin in the imperial capital and supply them throughout the Empire. Of course, no matter how good the quality is, it will be useless without publicity."

He had considered launching them as premium products and relying on word of mouth, or presenting them to the Empress.

But Astin did not have high hopes for either option.

There was only one woman who led the trends of the imperial capital.

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

It was not even limited to the Empire. Lucia's renown spread across the continent.

"So I would like to ask for your help, Lady Lucia. When I develop those cosmetics, I will come to see you."

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

Cosmetics used by Lucia, the star of high society.

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

And if the quality was exceptional, there would be nothing more to say.

Lucia stared directly at Astin.

"So, you mean to use me?"

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

It was a shameless answer without even the slightest attempt to dress it up.

Paradoxically, that bluntness gave Lucia a strange sense of comfort.

If Astin had offered awkward sympathy or consolation, the tears Lucia had been holding back might have burst forth.

"Talking business in a situation like this... I think you might have a talent for business after all, Young Lord."

A small laugh slipped from Lucia's lips.

It was an unconvincing empty promise that seemed to contain nothing but enthusiasm.

Yet Astin's words did not feel like mere bravado.

Lucia liked the boldness of this man she could not quite understand.

"Fine. I'll let you use me."

The sorrow on Lucia's face faded.

Somewhere along the way, Lucia had begun enjoying their conversation.

"But I hope I will not be the only one being used. If the cosmetics are really as excellent as you say, it will be a good deal for me as well."

"Don't worry about the quality."

"Good quality will not be enough to satisfy me. Are you confident?"

Lucia was not some ordinary young lady.

Every famous cosmetic in the imperial capital had passed through Lucia's hands.

Much of their fame came from Lucia's influence.

"I won't drag this out. I guarantee it in the name of Cardenos."

"Pfft. Cardenos is guaranteeing cosmetics?"

"It does sound a little violent."

"No, it's the opposite. It sounds strange because it's too gentle."

Lucia placed both elbows on the table and naturally rested her chin in her hands, as though cradling a flower.

"Why don't we make a bet?"

"A bet?"

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

"And if they don't..."

"Then you grant me one favor. You don't have to do it if you're not confident. I won't force you."

Tap. Tap.

Astin slowly drummed his fingertips on the table.

Outwardly, he looked as though he were hesitating over the wager and carefully weighing it.

The corner of Astin's mouth curled faintly.

"Fine. 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 favor. You're the one who should be worried, Lady Lucia."

"Hmm."

Lucia smiled with her eyes as though challenging him.

"Fine. We'll decide what favors to ask for then. It wouldn't be fun if we said it now, would it?"

At that moment, afternoon sunlight that had been hidden behind clouds poured down.

The light passing through the café's wide glass windows fell across Lucia's face.

Dazzled, Lucia reflexively squinted her left eye and touched the corner of it with one hand.

The sight overlapped with an afterimage from his memories, and Astin blanked out.

"......"

"Young Lord?"

"Ah, yes."

Astin snapped back to his senses at Lucia's call.

"What's wrong? You suddenly looked like you'd lost your soul."

"It's nothing."

Astin turned toward the presence he felt behind him.

"Excuse me, customers. I'm sorry I'm late. You must have been startled."

A café attendant approached carrying a broom and dustpan.

The attendant treated Lucia with even more caution than a great noble of the imperial capital.

"Are either of you hurt?"

"Ah, no. I'm fine."

The attendant repeatedly bowed while hurriedly sweeping up the shattered teacup.

Lucia watched quietly, then spoke politely.

"Could I order one more thing?"

"Of course! I'll prepare it right away."

"Young Lord, is there anything you'd like?"

Lucia smiled at 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 get going."

For an instant, Lucia's expression stiffened strangely.

Before Astin could notice, Lucia managed to lift the corners of her lips.

"You must be very busy. Is this what it's like to be a businessman?"

"Yes. I should leave before sunset, or I'll be late."

Astin gave a gentle nod.

"I'll come see you again soon. We'll meet in the imperial capital then."

"All right. Travel safely. I'll look forward to the result."

Guided by the attendant, Astin walked out of the café.

His broad back grew distant, and the door closed with a chime.

The table was left behind.

The lingering smile on Lucia's lips faded.

"......You could've stayed a little longer."

The words slipped out before Lucia realized it, then echoed hollowly.

Lucia's gaze dropped.

Perhaps because the attendant had cleaned in a hurry, tiny shards of glass still glimmered on the floor.

Lucia stared at them for a while, then squeezed her eyes shut.

"Haah..."

A heavy sigh settled onto the floor.

* * *

[Alchemia Workshop]

Beneath an old wooden sign with half its paint peeled away, Kyle rubbed his hollow eyes and endured another day.

For Kyle, each day was something to endure, not something to live.

He had not slept properly even once in the past few days.

Dark circles had settled beneath his eyes, and his nerves were as taut as a drawn bowstring.

There was only one reason.

Kyle had borrowed money from a merchant guild leader who claimed to rule the back alleys, and now he was on the verge of being exploited because of it.

"Making it is easy, isn't it? We'll take care of all the distribution and management."

"Ha! Let's see how long that pathetic pride of yours lasts. Either brew the drug I mentioned by the cauldronful, or watch your workshop burn to ashes. Choose by tomorrow!"

They had threatened Kyle and demanded that he make a drug meant to make people waste away to death.

Kyle had held on through sheer pride, but he had reached his limit.

It was certain those bastards would come back soon and tear apart his workshop.

What should I do when that happens?

Worries as heavy as a mountain pressed down on his heart.

Creeeak, bang!

The workshop's old door was violently thrown open.

Kyle felt his heart plummet.

"Hey! Kyle! Get out here!"

"Boss, maybe he already ran away? He had the eyes of a cornered rat yesterday."

"Run away, my ass. He's right there!"

Around fifteen burly men glared menacingly. They were the Jenkins Family, who ruled this neighborhood.

They kicked up clouds of dust as they entered. Each one carried an iron pipe or dagger.

"The deadline's up, Kyle. You got the goods ready, right?"

"I, I told you I wouldn't cooperate."

"Ha, look at this bastard."

Bang!

An iron pipe struck a side table. Splinters flew like sparks.

"Listen while we're asking nicely. If the boss comes himself, you'll be severely crippled."

"......"

"Get to work right now."

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

"This bastard won't understand until we beat it into him. Hey, turn the place upside down."

"Yes, boss!"

The men raised their weapons.

Crash!

The reagent bottles filled with painstakingly distilled reagents shattered into countless pieces.

Dried herbs scattered across the floor, while the beakers and flasks that had filled the shelves were stomped beneath their feet.

"N-No! Not those...!"

Kyle lunged forward, his face pale.

Thud!

The only answer he received was merciless violence.

"Urgh!"

Kyle was kicked in the stomach and collapsed helplessly. Glass fragments scattered across the floor cut into him, drawing blood.

"Oh, how touching. You should've listened when we were talking nicely."

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

The place built from blood, sweat, and tears was being brutally trampled by gutter vermin.

"Ah... Aah..."

He could not even scream properly. Only a metallic rasp scraped out of his throat.

Moisture seeped over Kyle's fingertips as he lay sprawled on the floor.

The reagents he had refined over several sleepless nights spilled out thickly.

Was this what it meant to feel as though one were coughing up blood?

The traces of a lifetime, into which Kyle had poured his soul, were vanishing so easily.

The pain of his efforts turning to nothing hurt far more than the glass digging into his palms.

Kyle wanted to bite off his tongue right then.

The crushing helplessness made it hard to breathe.

Just as Kyle gasped in despair...

Creeeak.

The battered old door of the workshop opened again.

The men's threatening gazes turned toward the doorway all at once.

A man stood there, backlit.

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

He looked far too refined for a dusty workshop like this.

"Who the hell is that?"

"Hey, mister! Business is over for today, so get lost!"

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

Ignoring him, the man calmly looked over the wrecked workshop.

His gaze settled on Kyle, lying on the floor.

"Are you Master Kyle, the workshop owner?"

It was a calm question.

Kyle stared at him as though he were insane.

Did this man not understand the situation?

Amid the hostile atmosphere, Astin studied Kyle closely and compared him to his memories.

'Red hair, a scrawny build, a haggard face. That's definitely Kyle.'

A precious talent who would become his source of wealth.

Astin walked toward Kyle without hesitation.

"Who the hell is this bastard? Are you dying to get yourself killed?"

The large man blocked Astin's path.

Seeing Astin's face up close, the man's eyes narrowed.

Refined features that practically dripped nobility. Brilliant blond hair that had clearly been well cared for.

More than anything, there was the arrogant attitude of someone entirely unafraid of the situation.

He was obviously some young nobleman raised delicately in a greenhouse.

"You're a noble, aren't you? I knew it. Your face is so greasy with privilege."

The man grinned, exposing gaps in his front teeth.

"But what are you gonna do about it? In our territory, even nobles get stabbed without a soul noticing. One wrong move, and this place could become your grave."

The thug bared his teeth and snickered. His men fiddled with their weapons in agreement.

Astin walked past him as if he were a statue.

Looking down at Kyle on the floor, Astin spoke.

"Master Kyle."

A title of respect was only proper for someone so valuable.

A blessing of wealth who would bring him a fortune.

An indispensable masterpiece for the Ashen Forest Expedition.

"I would like to buy everything in this workshop."

Kyle looked up at Astin blankly.

He wanted to buy everything. Those were words only a wealthy noble would say.

Even so, despair remained in Kyle's eyes.

There were plenty of nobles who were noble only in name.

True nobles had even different dust clinging to the soles of their shoes. There was a reason they insisted on red carpets.

No such noble would ever come to a place like this.

Nobles with nothing but titles were often stabbed here, just as the man had said.

Rustle.

Astin pulled a crumpled cheque from his coat.

Snatch!

The large man grabbed it from him.

Even after realizing Astin was a noble, he did not hesitate.

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

The man's words trailed off as he glanced down.

"...Huh?"

He rubbed both eyes repeatedly, as though seeing things.

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

The official seal of the Imperial Commercial Bank stood clearly in the center of the cheque.

Above it were the embossed Black Lion and two crossed swords.

It was the crest of House Cardenos, the western grand ducal house.

"Why?"

The man's eyes, trembling as though an earthquake had struck, turned to Astin.

Thud!

His knees hit the floor.

"Keep going. I was having fun."

A chilly voice fell from above.

The difference in their stations was impossibly vast.

Author's Note

There will be two chapters tomorrow, one at 1 AM and one at 1 PM. Please leave lots of comments. I read them whenever I have time.

Footnotes:

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