SHV 04

Chapter 4

An Uninvited Guest (1)

“The intellect of this era, Maximilian von Karayan, wins the leadership election of the Lechef Party!”

That was the headline on the front page of the daily newspaper Citizen’s View. A middle-aged man wearing glasses frowned as he read it.

His name was Anton Lopez, the great-grandson of Corsa Lopez, who had amassed enormous wealth during the Age of Exploration. Unlike his ancestor, Anton was not satisfied with merely spending inherited riches. He aggressively expanded the trading empire built by Corsa, even bribing the royal family to secure monopolies on certain products. He also ventured into moneylending, pulling in even more wealth.

As a result, Anton became one of the richest men in the Kingdom of Tilios. The royal family granted him a noble title—of course, not without a price.

“So Karayan became the leader, and Tonali remained a party member.”

Anton folded the newspaper and tossed it onto the table. Then he turned his uneasy gaze toward Tonali, who was nervously watching him.

“What’s the problem?” Anton asked, stroking his chin.

“Well…”

“Well?”

“I’m sorry.”

At Tonali’s weak reply, Anton let out a long sigh and ran his hand through his hair in irritation.

“Do you have any idea how much preparation we put in for the Assembly of the Three Estates?”

“Y-yes, I do.”

“Then how could this happen? Why do you think the Minister of Finance convened the Assembly?”

“T-the taxes… tax reform…”

Tonali answered like a guilty man under interrogation.

“You know well enough. Fabian Nerg, the Minister of Finance, is pushing for strong tax reform. But naturally, it will be rejected. It must be.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Then of course, the Lechef Party leadership will try to overturn that rejection. And it’s your job as a legislator to stop that!”

“Y-yes, that’s right.”

Anton stared silently at Tonali for a moment. Unable to meet his gaze, Tonali lowered his head and clenched his lips.

Anton moved closer and sat across from him.

“Look at me.”

Tonali cautiously raised his head. Anton wore a gentle expression—but his eyes were those of a predator staring at its prey.

Overwhelmed by tension, Tonali swallowed dryly.

“I’ve invested quite a lot in you, haven’t I?”

“…Yes.”

“I even secured you a noble title.”

Tonali nodded quickly, breathing shallowly.

“Why do you think I did that?”

“So… that I could do well in politics…”

Anton scoffed.

“I didn’t support you so you’d be good at politics. I supported you so you’d please me. Politics is done from above. With my money. You just do as you’re told.”

“Yes, yes. You’re right.”

Tonali’s voice trembled, but Anton’s expression didn’t change.

“But…”

Anton exhaled deeply, his face darkening as he placed a hand on Tonali’s shoulder.

“Why can’t you even do what you’re told? Is that so difficult?”

Tonali looked at him with shaking eyes.

“N-no. If you give me one more chance, I—I can do better. I swear.”

“How?”

“…What?”

“You’re asking for a chance. So how will you prove it?”

“W-well…”

Anton shook his head in disappointment. Then he opened his safe and took out an ornate, luxurious box. Tonali watched in fear, unsure of what was happening.

“This is a very rare and valuable item.”

With a proud smile, Anton opened the box, took out its contents, and pointed it at Tonali.

It was a pistol.

“Gasp! W-what are you doing? P-please spare me!”

Terrified, Tonali fell backward onto the floor, flailing. Anton stared at him coldly and pulled the trigger.

Click.

Nothing fired.

Still, Tonali trembled, drenched in cold sweat.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

Anton turned the intricately decorated pistol in his hand, showing it off.

“Why—why are you doing this? Please stop…”

“I’m a man who gets results for the money I spend.”

“Y-yes…”

“What does a gun do?”

“…What?”

Anton pressed the barrel against Tonali’s forehead.

“Was that a difficult question? Or do you not know what a gun is?”

“It—it kills people!”

“You knew that. So why couldn’t you answer properly?”

Satisfied, Anton smiled faintly and returned to his seat.

“Now then—what do you think I want from you?”

“B-become the leader! And make things go the way the royalists want!”

“Exactly. Then make me feel that my investment in you was worth it.”

Anton raised the pistol again and aimed it at him.

“A gun always does its job, according to how much it costs.”

Click!

Again, the empty pistol made only a hollow sound.

* * *

[Map of Martial Power]

I stared intently at the strange map I had received as a reward.

Not only the Kingdom of Tilios, but foreign lands were also fully drawn on it. Seven red dots blinked across the map. It clearly meant something existed at those locations… but what exactly?

Since it was called “martial power,” it probably had something to do with combat—but even that wasn’t certain.

A map should at least have a legend. Without one, I wouldn’t know anything until I went there myself.

“How did I write Christian again…?”

I tried to recall if it had anything to do with Christian, the true protagonist of the novel.

But nothing came to mind.

Christian was born overpowered. At the academy, he excelled in everything—combat ability, intelligence, leadership. Though many envied him, he easily crushed them all and rose above. A textbook hero.

He never sought special powers. Occasionally, he wanted advanced weapons or talented subordinates, but he never chased miraculous opportunities. He didn’t need them.

“That’s why I don’t want to meet him.”

Avoiding him would be best. If the story followed its original course, I’d end up getting stabbed to death by him.

I hoped things would change now that I’d been elected. At this point, Christian should be taking the academy entrance exam. If he somehow failed, maybe my fate would change too.

But he was too talented—he’d definitely get in. Just not as the top student, thanks to the Prince of Tilios.

“Brother, are we not leaving yet?”

There was a party leadership meeting ahead to decide on the agenda for the Assembly of the Three Estates. There were still over two hours left, yet Orleans was already rushing me.

“Alright, alright.”

I grabbed my coat and hurried out—but instead of Orleans, a strange woman caught my eye first.

She had long hair, pale skin, and doll-like features. I didn’t remember seeing her in this house before. Judging by her clothes, she wasn’t a servant.

“It’s been a while.”

She greeted me—but her cold gaze didn’t match her words.

“When someone greets you, you should respond.”

“…It has been a while.”

I didn’t know who she was, but she clearly had a strong personality.

I looked around for someone who could tell me her identity. Orleans, who had been rushing me moments ago, was nowhere to be seen.

Useless when it matters most.

“Why haven’t you contacted me at all?”

My mind grew complicated.

I don’t even know who you are, I wanted to say—but held it back.

“…Forget it. I didn’t come here because I wanted to anyway.”

She clearly had a complicated relationship with Karayan—and didn’t like him much.

“Miss Elizabeth, your coffee— Oh! Sir, I was just about to tell you—”

The butler arrived with a tray and froze awkwardly. I silently asked him who the woman was.

“Ah! This is your fiancée, Miss Elizabeth Rose Ketlin!”

…That was not how I wanted him to say it.

“Ha! So now you don’t even remember me and have to ask who I am?”

Elizabeth openly showed her displeasure.

Which was understandable.

Still… what kind of relationship had Karayan had with his fiancée? She showed no affection at all.

So it must have been a political engagement.

“Miss Elizabeth!”

Orleans approached, wiping his hands.

“Hmph. Your brother hasn’t changed at all.”

Elizabeth said coldly.

“Haha… is that so?”

“He doesn’t just ignore people—now he doesn’t even recognize them.”

She glared at me, then handed an envelope to Orleans.

“Give this to him.”

Then she left immediately, as if she didn’t want to stay a second longer.

“I… what should I do with this coffee…”

The butler stood there helplessly.

“I’ll drink it.”

Orleans casually took the coffee and handed me the letter.

“It’s from Duke Ketlin.”

The name stamped on it read: Charles Ernst Ketlin.

Unfamiliar.

“Is it a congratulatory letter?”

I opened it.

“He wants to meet soon. Says he has something to discuss.”

It was a formal letter—congratulating me and asking to meet.

“He’s your sponsor, so you should pay special attention. And Miss Elizabeth too. Don’t you think you’ve held onto a childish mistake for too long?”

Orleans scolded me lightly.

But I only focused on one word: sponsor.

If he supported young politicians, he must be incredibly wealthy. And arranging a marriage with his daughter meant he was no ordinary man.

Which made me curious—what kind of person was Ketlin?

And why did this relationship fail in the original story?

After all, Karayan died alone.

“Brother, if you’re ready, let’s go.”

Orleans finished his coffee and urged me toward the meeting hall.

Just then—

—Notification—

[Novel Points: 100]
[Mission: Dance with a Priest.]
[Reward: 20 Novel Points, Point Shop Map (Level 1)]
[Penalty for Failure: -30 Novel Points]

—End—