WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Haruto

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

Chapter 29: You Womanizing Bastard!

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It wasn't just some scrap of paper.

It was a check from House Cardenos.

Not even noticing the pain, the man slammed his forehead against the floor.

"I have committed a sin worthy of death!!"

"Boss?!"

He was different from the ignorant street trash around him.

He immediately realized what the paper Astin had thrown meant.

Blond hair, golden eyes, aristocratic features.

A relaxed demeanor, even with a blade at his throat.

Even so, it was only natural that he hadn't recognized him.

Why would the Young Lord of Cardenos ever set foot in a place like this?

That perfectly reasonable mistake was about to cost him his life.

"Please, spare me, Young Lord!"

"Young Lord? What are you..."

"Get on your knees, you bastards! That's the Young Lord of Cardenos!"

"Gasp!?"

"Young Lord!"

Crash! Bang!

The entire group hurriedly dropped to their knees and bowed their heads.

Astin gave them an indifferent once-over, then glanced at Kyle.

Kyle flinched and was about to kneel when Astin stopped him.

"Please remain seated, Workshop Master."

It might have sounded as though their roles had been reversed, but Kyle had no choice but to comply.

Astin was no ordinary noble.

He was the Young Lord of Cardenos.

Kyle sat hunched over in his chair.

Knowing that the Young Lord of Cardenos stood before him made it even harder to breathe.

A whole mob from the Jenkinson Family would have been less intimidating.

'Is this the aura of a grand ducal house...?'

Kyle wanted to ask why the young lord had come here, but he kept his lips tightly sealed.

Before he knew who Astin was, Astin had seemed like an insignificant noble.

Now that he knew, even speaking a single word required resolve.

To people like him, Astin was an irresistible force.

"By the way, this place is a mess."

Clap!

"Clean it."

Astin clapped his hands.

The men stared at one another in confusion until Astin's cold gaze fell on them.

"I said, clean it."

"Y-Yes!"

The men hurriedly began cleaning.

It was a dramatic change.

They no longer resembled the men who had been waving weapons around and threatening to kill someone moments ago.

Kyle watched them blankly until Astin's next words snapped him back to his senses.

"You have quite a lot here."

"Ah, yes!"

Astin stroked his chin as he surveyed the shelves covering the walls.

Hundreds of reagent bottles sealed with cork stoppers.

Even amid their irregular spectrum of colors, there seemed to be a strange order.

"Did you prepare all of these yourself?"

"Y-Yes..."

"That red bottle over there, what does it do? It looks quite good."

Kyle's eyes widened.

The intent behind Astin's question was as sharp as a blade.

What Astin had pointed to wasn't a simple painkiller, but a compound medicine that required advanced formulation techniques.

"Y-Young Lord, you have an excellent eye. That's a coagulant that temporarily slows the bloodstream when someone is struck by a monster's venomous stinger."

"Excellent. Its density is completely different from the cheap recovery potions sold on the market. What about that green bottle?"

"Huh! T-That's a liquid ointment that neutralizes burns on mucous membranes exposed to acidic poison! Both were refined using ratios I developed myself... Don't tell me you knew all that before asking...?"

Astin gave a faint smile before replying.

"Your skill is so remarkable that even an outsider like me can see their effectiveness."

The corners of Kyle's lips slowly lifted.

Having a customer recognize his skill scratched an itch he hadn't known he had.

And this customer wasn't just any noble.

He was the Young Lord of Cardenos!

In only ten minutes, Kyle had gone from hell to heaven.

"I suppose mercenaries and knights are your main customers."

"That's right, though I accept other customers as well. I carry ordinary cold medicine, and I deal in elixirs as well as treatments."

A bright smile spread across Kyle's face as he spoke. It suited him.

"Do you have anything you're developing independently, aside from the usual medicines?"

"Yes, I do. But it hasn't undergone clinical trials yet, so it hasn't been verified. It would be too risky to release it carelessly."

"What kind of medicine?"

"Well... To put it simply, it's an antidote that forcibly breaks down fatal toxins inside the body. I designed it to prevent cellular necrosis when someone is exposed to demonic energy or poison."

An antidote that could even suppress demonic energy.

Astin's golden eyes gleamed.

"Could you show me the unfinished reagent?"

Kyle hesitated, but only briefly.

Astin was Cardenos' Young Lord, as well as a valuable customer who had recognized his ability. How could Kyle refuse such a request?

Kyle opened the safe deeper inside the workshop and carefully took out a faintly blue reagent bottle.

The liquid swaying beyond the glass was crystal clear, without a trace of impurity.

Astin accepted the bottle, tilted it from side to side, and let out an admiring sound.

"To achieve this level of purity. Your skill has reached another realm. Did you make it alone?"

"N-No. I have three apprentices working under me."

"Even so, your skill is incredible."

"Ha ha, I won't deny it. I take pride in my ability, at least."

It wasn't arrogance. It was pride.

"Good. I like this very much. I'd like to make a substantial contract with you, Workshop Master."

"...Pardon? A c-contract?"

Kyle's eyes went round.

Hadn't Astin only come to buy goods? A contract with Cardenos? Or one made solely at the young lord's discretion?

Kyle's thoughts spiraled out of control.

"To be honest, I'd like to bring you in as a retainer of my house."

"A-A retainer!? A retainer of a grand ducal house!?"

This went beyond a contract. It was an offer to become a retainer.

Kyle nearly collapsed from shock.

He had lived as the master of a back-alley workshop, with no connection to the nobility.

Yet Cardenos had just offered him a golden lifeline.

Or so he thought, for only a moment.

"That's only what I'd like to do. In practice, I can't."

"...Ah. I see. Of course, that makes sense. Ha ha..."

Kyle's excitement quickly cooled.

Who was he to become a retainer of a grand ducal house?

Kyle would have been grateful enough for a supply contract.

"Let's make a three-year contract for you to serve as my exclusive compounder. The signing bonus will be generous, enough that you'll think it excessive."

"...What?"

"A fixed annual salary, plus an incentive of ten percent of revenue. Research funds will be paid separately, and I'll provide top-class equipment and housing. I'll also cover the wages for your support staff. Ah, since you'll be directly under me, you'll receive a separate allowance for maintaining appearances."

Kyle's eyes lost focus. His nostrils and lips stretched beyond their limits.

Astin continued without a hint of concern.

"If I bring you in as a retainer, there will be strong opposition within the house. For now, it's better to give you the title of someone directly under me. If it's a form of personal sponsorship, no one can object."

Astin picked up a sheet of parchment that had been lying on the workshop floor.

"Once your skill as a compounder is recognized, you'll become a retainer. You'll keep your current title as well."

"A-A retainer..."

Ink flowed beneath the tip of Astin's pen.

Swish!

He set down the pen and held up the parchment.

"This is a simplified contract. Once we arrive at the house, we'll draw up the official version."

Everything Astin had said was written in the contract.

Gulp.

Kyle felt saliva gathering in his throat. Everything about this situation felt unreal.

"Why are you doing all this... for me...?"

Kyle still couldn't believe this was real.

Astin felt a little sorry for him. Kyle had the qualifications, yet all he could do was doubt himself.

"Take pride in your skill."

"...Ah."

Drip.

A tear fell.

Astin looked away, signed the contract, then slid it across the desk to Kyle.

He waited in silence until Kyle had composed himself.

"Th-Thank you..."

Holding back tears, Kyle signed the contract with trembling hands.

While Kyle swallowed his tears, Astin beckoned to the large man.

It was the man who had laid hands on Astin earlier.

"Y-Yes, Young Lord."

Thud!

"Urgh!"

A swift fist struck the man's nose. His head snapped back, and blood poured from both nostrils.

Astin grabbed him by the collar and yanked him close.

He used the nosebleed like ink, coating the Cardenos signet ring with blood.

Thump!

The bloodstained signet ring pressed firmly against the contract.

"Now you can't back out, Workshop Master."

"B-Back out? I'd never do such a thing! Use me to your heart's content! I offer my life to the mighty House Cardenos!"

"Don't offer your life. You might die of overwork."

"Ha ha! That won't happen."

No, you really will die of overwork. You did in the first life.

Astin couldn't say that outright, which was frustrating.

'I need to make sure the official contract explicitly requires him to take breaks.'

Astin put the thought aside and looked around at the men.

The moment his gaze fell on them, their hands and feet moved at least twice as fast.

"Come here."

Scurry!

The men stopped cleaning and moved in perfect order. They quickly lined up in front of Astin.

Their discipline wasn't bad at all.

"Take me to where your boss is."

* * *

A lavish mansion backing onto Rag Town, the southern back alleys.

"How is it possible that you still haven't done it!"

Baron Kelton, a fat man with rolls of flesh, shouted as spittle flew from his mouth.

"You've delayed the business 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."

Sunk deep into an expensive sofa, Jenkinson quietly drew on his cigar.

Clouds of stale smoke rose between his thick fingers. Faced with his employer's frivolous agitation, he did nothing but exhale smoke.

On the surface, they were business partners. In truth, Jenkinson was Baron Kelton's hunting dog.

Jenkinson knew it, but willingly played the hunting dog.

Kelton was a real noble, capable with business, and the owner of a powerful merchant company.

Under Kelton, Jenkinson could live like a king of the region.

He could even kill the riffraff who had titles but nothing else.

"Didn't I tell you that no one is without a weakness? That bastard has those brats doing his errands! Those three apprentices!"

"Fuuu..."

Jenkinson let out the smoke he had been holding in his mouth. Only then did he answer.

"I've already sent my men to the workshop, so we'll hear back soon. I gave them strict instructions to pull out the apprentices' tongues one by one if he refuses until the end."

"Yes! That's how you should've handled it from the start! That bastard knows we can't touch him. We need to use the brats under him!"

The baron smacked his lips and rubbed his hands together.

"How can he hold out while his apprentices become cripples right before his eyes? It's time to make money. You and I are going to be sitting on a mountain of it!"

His gleaming eyes seemed to reflect mountains of gold coins.

Jenkinson only held his cigar in his mouth with a bored expression.

"Money..."

No matter how much money one had, there were things it could never buy.

Jenkinson's body and heart were blindly pursuing one of them.

In the end, he realized he could never reach that star and chose money instead.

"Heh heh... Just wait. That bastard Kyle will become a goose that lays golden eggs."

Unlike Jenkinson, Kelton only cared about money. Money, money, money.

To him, Kyle was a vault overflowing with wealth.

Kyle had made countless narcotic painkillers and developed them independently as well.

His true value lay in the high-purity painkillers he could handle.

An alchemist highly skilled in producing extremely potent anesthetic painkillers.

If the mixing ratios of ordinary painkillers were altered, they could become powerful drugs for the underworld.

Kyle simply hadn't had the chance to shine yet.

Kelton was the first person to recognize his true worth.

As expected, I have a knack for smelling money. Baron Kelton grinned.

Boom!!

"W-What was that!?"

Kelton shrieked like a pig being slaughtered.

Jenkinson, who had been putting on airs, also frowned and rose from his seat.

A presence appeared through the doorway, its hinges shattered.

"Yo-"

Behind Astin stood the men Jenkinson had sent to the workshop.

Astin, a blond man, strolled in before them with a lazy gait.

"So all the druggies were gathered here?"

"Who the hell are you!?"

Kelton shouted, pointing at Astin.

Just as Astin was about to answer, Jenkinson cut in first.

"You look like some womanizer. Like you'd screw women in bed, then light up a cigarette."

Astin froze for three seconds at the blunt insult.

It sounded familiar. He had heard it plenty of times before.

"Funny how it feels different depending on who says it. I wasn't offended at all when they said it."

They had claimed it wasn't an insult, but a compliment.

A compliment that he was handsome.

"Is that your way of complimenting me too? Saying I'm handsome?"

"I'm saying you look like a male prostitute."

"You're dead."

Author's Note

A chapter will be posted at 1 p.m. I'll post a support thank-you notice soon!

Footnotes:

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