Chapter 98

Chapter 98. Temptation of the Devoted Wife

The investiture ceremony was scheduled for about a month later, so I still had some time.

But someone arrived at the harbor and immediately filled that free time.

I practically ran out barefoot to greet her.

“Yasmin, did you find coffee?”

Because I skipped the greeting and immediately got to business, Yasmin’s attendants frowned.

Yasmin herself only gave a small laugh.

“So you decided to call the fruit used for that tea ‘coffee,’ did you?”

“You figured it out already?”

She confidently straightened her shoulders and put her hands on her hips.

“Of course. Don’t underestimate Fatima. We even figured out that you roast it and brew it.”

Apparently, I had given too many hints in my letters.

Once they read between the lines, it was possible to figure out.

They had done quite a lot of research in a short time.

Just as Yasmin said, I should not underestimate Fatima.

“Good work.”

Yasmin grinned, showing her white teeth.

She seemed proud of herself.

Her attendants, however, did not look pleased by how casually I treated her.

We returned to the lord’s residence and began discussing business.

Yasmin emphasized her contribution to discovering coffee and figuring out how to use it.

“I’m the one who discovered how to make the tea, and we’ll also be growing the coffee trees.”

In other words, the table was already set, so I should not casually place my spoon on it.

“How can an honorable noble be so stingy? Don’t forget whose idea this was in the first place.”

In other words, do not ignore my contribution, and let me put my spoon on the table.

Then I added more.

“I’ll be a huge help in making it popular quickly. I have connections in Berber, Veneto, and Catalonia. I also have connections in the Germania Empire, and I own a logistics company in the Lowlands.”

Then this unmarried man who had been married three times in his previous life lifted a Royal Marcel teacup.

“Most importantly, I have this. I’m going to release a special limited-edition product exclusively for coffee. Northern Continent nobles will go crazy over it. I’ll bundle them together and promote them.”

A crease appeared between Yasmin’s eyebrows.

“Hmm. I can’t deny that. But I can’t give you a large share of the profit. In our country, the people who farm must earn the most money.”

“Is that a teaching of the Moon God?”

“No. Our nation originally began as a union of farming tribes. If we didn’t guarantee their rights, they would revolt. It started as a custom we had no choice but to follow, then hardened into common sense.”

Was she asking for fair trade?

Nothing wrong with that.

“Fine. I’ll handle distribution and sales. You handle production and processing.”

“Are you really fine with that?”

“Of course. Let’s conduct fair trade that neither of us has to be ashamed of.”

“All right. Just as I heard, Count Marcel really is a merciful noble.”

Mercy, my ass.

Production and processing might look more profitable right now.

But once consumption increased and the volume of distribution expanded, economies of scale would send plenty of profit my way too.

Even if coffee trees spread beyond Fatima and production regions multiplied, as long as I controlled the distribution network, my monopolistic position would remain firm.

Yasmin’s attendants seemed to revise their opinion of me.

Until a moment ago, they had been openly sulking.

Now they smiled brightly and praised the merciful noble.

“May the Moon God guide Lady Yasmin and Count Marcel along their shining road. May the Moon God bless Count Marcel for his mercy.”

“Blessings upon the merciful noble!”

They celebrated our verbal MOU in a remarkably free atmosphere.

They must all come from fairly influential families.

Yasmin really was a high-ranking noble.

I should stay friendly with her.

“Ah! I also brought Marta’s storybooks.”

She had said she would turn the stories told by the orphan girl Marta into books.

At Yasmin’s signal, one of her attendants placed several thick books on the table.

I picked one up and examined the cover.

The front had the title and a short introduction to the story.

It looked like a promotional band or webnovel synopsis from my previous life.

“Let’s see... The title is ‘Temptation of the Devoted Wife.’”

That felt a little familiar.

“The story says... A devoted and virtuous wife is abandoned by her cheating husband. She disguises herself by putting a beauty mark on her face, seduces her husband again, then takes revenge by driving both him and his mistress to their deaths...”

Not a little familiar.

Extremely familiar.

Was it coincidence?

I picked up another book.

The title was ‘Young Master Over Flowers.’

“With only white cloth and wind, I can go anywhere...”

What the hell was this?

It certainly was not a serious documentary about maritime trade.

I quickly skimmed the contents.

It was exactly what I suspected.

Marta! She’s from Earth, no, she’s Korean!

I shot to my feet and ran.

My destination was the house of Prince Omar, the illegitimate son of the King of Berber, where Marta worked.

Yasmin and her attendants were startled by my sudden rudeness, but I did not care.

There’s another reincarnator besides me!

I had never truly believed I was the only reincarnator.

After learning that Soul Reaper was an item, I had suspected it even more.

Then, after seeing Sophia’s resurrection and realizing that another Hunter had reincarnated, I became much more wary of other reincarnators.

I was not running because I was happy to meet another Korean.

I drew Soul Reaper.

If necessary, I intended to cut her head off.

I ran toward Omar’s house with two ghouls and Chief Bodyguard Martin.

It was nearby, so we arrived quickly.

BANG!

I shoved the front door open hard enough that it almost broke, then searched for Marta.

I found Ramita, the ghoul guarding Prince Omar.

“Ramita! Where’s Marta?”

“In the backyard with Omar and...”

I did not even listen to the rest.

“Follow me!”

“Yes, my lord.”

I ran into the backyard.

Omar, Marta, and two guards were there.

I immediately rushed toward Marta and held Soul Reaper against her neck.

“Marta, you’re under arrest. The charge is deceiving your lord.”

First, I would arrest her.

Then I would interrogate her.

Prince Omar panicked and stepped in front of me.

“Count, please calm down. What did Marta do?”

“Move.”

When I glared at him as though I would kill him, the two guards stepped between us and approached to stop me.

“You bastards have a death wish?”

Thud! Thud!

After one quick scuffle involving me and Ramita, the guards were lying quietly on their backs.

I stepped past them and pressured Marta again.

“Are you coming quietly, or do I have to drag you?”

“Please spare me. Please spare me.”

She had no idea what was happening and could only beg for her life.

When I faced Marta in the prison, she only sobbed as tears rolled down her cheeks.

I still could not tell whether those tears were sincere or an act.

I placed copies of ‘Temptation of the Devoted Wife’ and ‘Young Master Over Flowers’ in front of her.

“You told Yasmin these stories, right?”

Marta stopped crying and examined the covers.

“Temptation of the Devoted Wife... Yes. I told her that one.”

For the first time in twenty years, I spoke Korean to another person.

“Are you Korean?”

“...?”

She looked completely confused.

Like she had no idea what I was saying.

Granted, after twenty years without speaking Korean, my pronunciation might have become awkward.

But if she were Korean, there was no way she would fail to recognize this.

“Not Korean? Do you know Ji-sung Park? Do you know Gangnam Style? Son Heung-min?”

“What? What did you say about soy milk?”

I stared into her eyes.

If this was acting, Marta deserved an Oscar for Best Actress.

Did I get this completely wrong?

I switched back to the Common Language.

“Who told you these stories? When and where?”

“At an orphanage in Veneto. A boy named Fabio...”

To summarize Marta’s explanation, Fabio had been an orphan boy who seemed several years older than her.

He used to tell stories to the children.

About two years ago, he was considered an adult.

He found work with a merchant caravan trading with the Southern Continent and immediately left the orphanage.

Apparently, he had been unusually good with numbers for his age.

He was also considered highly intuitive because he quickly figured out how to use unfamiliar objects.

My guess was that Fabio was a reincarnated Korean Hunter who had been middle-aged in his previous life.

Like me, his synchronization probably finished when he turned nineteen and his System returned.

By then, he would already have been on the Southern Continent.

Perhaps he met Dark Elves who worshipped Hela and showed them his skill.

Or maybe he received a divine blessing and attracted the attention of Hela’s followers.

That Fabio bastard is definitely the one who raised Sophia. I need to issue a wanted notice immediately.

“Marta, what happened today was a misunderstanding. We need to arrest this Fabio, so write down his distinguishing features and a description of his appearance.”

“What? The people at the orphanage would remember him much better than me. The boys and girls were separated, so we weren’t close.”

“Write down what you remember anyway. Also include the orphanage’s name, its location, and the name of the person in charge.”

Marta apparently realized she was no longer a suspect.

She calmly began filling the paper.

That document would be sent to Viscount Chioggia, who would help search for Fabio.

Nobles held enormous power in this world.

If we seriously searched for someone, finding them was not impossible.

This was not twenty-first-century Earth.

Most commoners were born and raised in the same hometown, so outsiders and fugitives stood out easily.

The only problem was the enormous search area.

Martin, who had been watching beside me, asked,

“My lord, is he really that dangerous? All he does is raise a few corpses. They aren’t even undead.”

“What would you think if there were another person like me somewhere in the world?”

“...Terrifying.”

Should I hit him?

“I meant dangerous. Please don’t look at me like that.”

“Exactly. He’s dangerous. He’s an uncertain variable that will definitely get in my way.”

I also did not like the Dark Elves trying to recruit and destabilize Northern Continent noble families.

They sounded like terrorists from a slave liberation front.

I was a noble and a lord.

People like that were my enemies.

“Should the wanted order say to capture him alive?”

“No. Cut off his head the moment he’s found.”

Marta, who had been slowly writing, jumped and snapped the quill in her hand.

She finally realized how close she had come to dying today.

Inside an inn in Veneto Territory.

A man stood looking at the street outside a second-floor window.

Creeeak.

The wooden door opened with the squeal of old hinges.

A woman entered the room.

“Fabio, I’m back.”

“Did you recruit the Bishop?”

“Failed. He wasn’t interested. I planted the idea, though. If he becomes curious, he’ll contact the organization.”

The woman removed the necklace around her neck.

Her appearance changed from human to Dark Elf.

It was a magic item that caused the wearer’s face to be perceived as human.

She placed a sack and a bottle on the table.

“What’s that?”

“Bread and medicine for diarrhea. You keep suffering from it, so I bought some on the way.”

Fabio chuckled and picked up the bottle.

“You take care of the weirdest things. Wasn’t it expensive?”

“I stopped by the organization on the way and received operating funds. I was also ordered to take good care of you because you’re weak.”

“...Tch. They’re treating me like a kid.”

Pop.

He pulled out the cork stopper and poured several pills into his hand.

A distinctive smell immediately rose.

This smells like Seirogan.

It was a smell he had often encountered in his previous life, especially long ago.

He lifted the bottle and checked the label.

Eric Marcel’s Diarrhea Stopping Medicine.

Eric Marcel again.

Fabio swallowed the medicine while admiring Eric’s inventions.

The man who invented medicine for scurvy also made Seirogan? What an incredible inventor. He’s even a noble. I’m jealous as hell.

Fabio thought Eric was simply a genius noble loved by the gods.

He himself had received blessings several times, so he did not particularly envy that part.

Almost nobody knew about his blessings, however, so he received no special treatment for them.

If Fabio had encountered all of Eric’s products at once, he would have immediately become convinced that Eric was also from Earth.

But either he had never encountered them, or he encountered them one at a time and dismissed them as coincidences.

More than anything,

Fabio believed he was the only reincarnator.

“Hey, Fabio. Can’t you make medicine like this? You know a lot of things.”

“That’s ridiculous. How am I supposed to make medicine when I don’t know chemistry? I was a humanities guy.”

“Humanities?”

“It means I spent my time studying writing and things like that.”

“Ah, those strange stories of yours.”

The woman took bread and a small jar from the sack.

Using a wooden spoon, she spread Canada syrup from the jar onto the bread and held it toward Fabio.

“Eat.”

“What’s this sticky stuff?”

“Sweet. Delicious.”

“I don’t like sweet things. You eat it. I’ll just eat plain bread.”

“Heh. You have an old man’s taste.”

The woman laughed, bit into the bread, then pulled several sheets of paper out of her bag.

They listed the names of nobles and the progress made with each one.

She took out a pencil and added several notes.

Then she tore off a small piece of bread and rubbed it against the paper, erasing some of the existing writing.

Fabio stared in shock.

“Hey! Hey! What are you doing with food?”

“Bread erases writing really well. You’re always strangely stingy about things like this.”

“I was poor in the past.”

The woman looked baffled.

“You said you lived in a church orphanage. They would’ve fed you well.”

“Before that. A long, long time ago.”

“What are you talking about? You’re just a kid.”

Fabio remembered his life in Korea.

His family had been so desperately poor that he could barely attend school.

Then he awakened as a Hunter.

Just when he finally started making enough money to live properly, he died.

In this world, he had grown up as a commoner orphan and managed only the bare minimum standard of living.

Damn it, why am I so unlucky? Can’t I reroll?

He chewed the dry bread and hoped that in his next life, at least, he would be born as the son of a noble family.