Chapter 20: I’m Not That Kind of Person (1)

The Alkart Ducal Family holds significant weight in the original story.

A family that dominates the underworld, dealing in both legal and illegal affairs.

A powerhouse capable of shaking the Empire’s economy.

Naturally, they played a major role in the story.

The final boss of Act 3, right? Probably.

A character with both flair and difficulty, one of the most popular bosses.

The ruler of the underworld,

<Drug King> Cabaro Alkart.

That was his title and name.

Flutter!

Cabaro’s cloak billowed as he rode his black steed.

Golden embroidery adorned the red cloak.

A symbol of the dignity Cabaro carried.

Jet-black hair comparable to the steed and the cold, golden eyes inherited by Evan.

No matter how disheveled he might appear, an undeniable nobility and grace radiated from him.

A born ruler.

Destined from birth to command and govern, fully aware of it and wielding that power actively.

Neigh!

The black steed let out a powerful cry, slowing its pace, and the carriage gradually came to a stop.

At the mansion’s front gate.

The Duchess, who had come out to greet him, stood waiting.

The official wife who bore Leonardo and Theodor.

Her expression is awfully stiff.

It was a look Evan had never seen before.

Evan sat by the window, propping his chin.

Nataliya Alkart.

A formidable woman who reached the rank of top-tier Sword Expert with just a rapier.

Her panther-like presence and a physique so honed it was hard to believe she’d borne two children were striking.

Even such a Duchess was tense at the Duke’s return.

Neigh!

The black steed stopped right in front of the Duchess.

A bundle atop the horse.

The cloth was stained red.

Is that what I think it is?

Thud! Roll…

The Duke tossed the bundle.

What rolled out was an enemy’s head.

Its face frozen in shock.

Clank, clank!

As the black steed halted, the knights following behind stopped in unison.

Their movements were disciplined to a fault.

Without a hint of error, they knelt on one knee and drove their swords into the ground.

Stab! Stab!

The knights from the mansion did the same.

At the forefront.

Befitting the title of First Knight Commander, Ferok spoke.

“We sincerely celebrate the safe return of our lord, His Grace the Duke.”

“We celebrate!”

“Hmm.”

Cheers and overwhelming loyalty.

Yet, the Duke merely nodded lightly, as if accustomed to it.

“You’ve all done well. Rise.”

“Yes!”

“Yes!”

Clank! Clank!

The knights swiftly realigned.

The Duke dismounted the steed with a graceful leap.

Seeing the Duchess, his expression softened slightly.

It was a smile.

Totally doesn’t suit him.

“My lady. It’s been a while.”

“I’m relieved to see you return unharmed, Your Grace.”

Naturally, as if escorting her, the Duke offered his hand, and the Duchess took it.

What a lovey-dovey couple.

They say he was like that with Evan’s mother too.

A marriage not born of politics but of genuine love—a rare feat in the brutal world of nobility.

A love marriage!

Truly the epitome of an alpha male, a real man.

To carry the fearsome title of Drug King and still move so freely in the underworld spoke volumes.

“What’s with the head?”

“The second-in-command’s.”

The Duke spoke in a flat tone.

“He was after my position.”

“Well done.”

“It’s my fault for lacking virtue. Failing to sway even one subordinate. I must strive harder.”

“You’re splendid.”

Even his self-reflection was crisp.

No trace of self-reproach beyond that.

It felt like checking answers against a perfect answer sheet.

Could a person be that emotionless?

“The children?”

“They’re all in their rooms.”

“Let’s have dinner together tonight.”

On the surface, he seemed stern but perhaps a caring father. Yet, Evan knew better.

Or rather, this body did.

“Be quiet, Evan Alkart.”

Evan, clutching his mother’s cold body, wailing.

The Duke standing behind him, face unseen, speaking in a chilling voice.

“Act with the dignity befitting a second son.”

After that, Evan grew distant from his father.

More accurately, he was abandoned.

Evan called it independence.

Not abandonment, but independence from his father.

It didn’t lead to mental “maturity.”

The ordinary delinquent Evan began dreaming of the forbidden act of “resurrection.”

Not planning on that now, though.

The ultimate taboo, “resurrection.”

The price was on a different level from Golden Transmutation.

Naturally, for a safety-first—not coward—Evan, it was an option he wouldn’t even glance at.

His real parents weren’t even dead.

Dinner, huh… I should pretend to be asleep.

As he quietly pulled his head back,

“Evan Alkart.”

At that moment.

A cold voice pierced his ears.

His stiff neck turned reluctantly.

Right at the window.

The Duke stared into Evan’s eyes.

His icy golden eyes glinted.

“Don’t be late for dinner.”

“Yes.”

Ugh, I don’t want to.

But his mouth answered automatically.

Not because he was scared.

It was purely this body’s instincts.

Definitely not fear.

“Understood.”

Swish.

Having heard the response, the Duke turned away without looking back.

The mansion’s front gate fell silent.

Evan let out a faint sigh, slumping into his chair.

Man, that scared me!

He never talks to me, so why now?

The only times he’d spoken to Evan were three.

Once right after Evan transmigrated, when he was groaning in pain.

Another when he forcibly sent Evan to the underworld.

This makes three.

I really don’t want to see him.

Evan shuddered.

But an unavoidable fate was approaching…

***

The dinner table.

In a normal household, it’d evoke a lively image.

Not here.

It was bleak and silent.

Clink, clink.

The sound of dishes being set and cleared.

Not even the sound of eating was made.

That was proper etiquette.

Only the head of the household, the master of this table, could speak first.

If Lapis were here, she’d suffocate.

Lately, she’d been more interested in playing with Schuper, eating fewer vegetables than usual.

She used to eat two baskets; now it’s one and a half.

It was a bit noisy but fun.

As he ate, reminiscing about a not-so-distant past,

Clank.

The Duke, finishing his meal, elegantly wiped his mouth with a handkerchief.

Without a single hum, he fixed his gaze on Evan.

“Evan.”

“…Yes, Your Grace.”

His body stiffened.

Like a herbivore before a predator.

Good thing his face didn’t show it.

Seeing a mature version of his own face was a bit awkward, though.

“There’ve been a lot of rumors lately.”

“I had bad luck.”

“Not ‘good,’ but ‘bad luck.’ Is your notoriety still lacking?”

Huh?

“Count Blue Beard wasn’t a vessel worthy of your satisfaction. Strive harder.”

Huh??

“However, the Saintess and the Holy Knight. They’re of your caliber. Impressive.”

Huh???

“You invited a beggar this time. Did you gain anything worthwhile?”

“…It was a decent connection.”

“Not bad.”

Did he figure out it was the Assassin King?

“Beggars may be lowly, but finding out what glory they once held is key. You must have read something only you could.”

Leonardo shot a fierce glare, as if saying, That was it?

Well…

He wasn’t wrong.

But it was purely coincidental.

Definitely not intentional.

Saying “no” would be embarrassing.

Swaying people takes one line, but explaining yourself takes several.

“Yes.”

So he just nodded.

“You don’t seem satisfied yet.”

The Duke seemed to misinterpret his reaction.

Evan doubted his ears at the nonsense.

Huh?

What’s lacking?

My current notoriety?

If this wasn’t enough, that’d make him a real psycho.

“I’m satisfied.”

“No need to pretend. Moderate humility is beneficial, but excessive humility only weakens you.”

The Duke interpreted Evan’s words as he pleased.

“Always be careful not to overdo it.”

“Yes.”

Leonardo and Theodor glared at Evan intensely.

They seemed annoyed that he was monopolizing the Duke’s attention at dinner.

If you’re jealous, you take it.

I don’t need it.

As Evan cursed inwardly,

Swish.

Very faintly.

A fleeting smile appeared on the Duke’s lips, then vanished.

For a moment, Evan thought he’d imagined it.

No way, must be my mistake.

In the game, even when Evan met a pathetic death, the Duke responded formulaically.

A smile? Yeah, right.

“I’ll give you your next task directly. A chance to make your name known.”

“I’m fine—”

“Go to the ball, Evan.”

No.

Listen to me.

“This time, you’ll attend as the family’s representative.”

Glare!

The brothers’ gazes grew fiercer.

Ugh, I don’t want to!

But a real man’s trait: no running away.

If he fled now?

He’d become a coward.

Evan forced out a reply.

“I’ll think about it.”

The “What kind of lunatic is he?” glares intensified.

As dinner passed, late at night,

A letter arrived.

Its destination: the Full Moon Church.

A letter from Arthur.

– I’m infiltrating high society to hunt heretics. Can you provide potions then?

…Looks like.

He now had a reason to attend high society.

***

One day before Evan received the letter.

The Full Moon Church.

A silver bird, with a red ribbon tied to its leg, flew in clutching a scroll.

Flap!

“Hmm.”

Not a letter, but a kind of newspaper delivering continental news or sentiments.

Adrianne, who had stopped by the Full Moon Church, cast an intrigued glance from behind.

“Hmm.”

Arthur swallowed a groan.

“What’s wrong… hmm.”

Adrianne swallowed a groan too.

The scroll.

It contained quite impactful news.

Heretic group annihilated.

Currently all missing.

Presumed to be destroyed by Evan Alkart.

Ugh.

Drip, drip.

The groan lengthened, a slight cold sweat forming.

He annihilated the remaining heretics?

So suddenly?

Is he really that angry?

“Is this a message to handle things more cleanly?”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Then what?”

As Arthur probed her intent, Adrianne, a brilliant strategist and mastermind, caught on.

“It’s that the staging was lacking.”

“Staging?”

“You restored his Aura Hole, but no one knows about you, do they?”

“Right. He’s upset his notoriety didn’t spread.”

“Exactly.”

Evan Alkart.

A true mastermind, toying with even the Sun Saintess and the Full Moon Knight.

To send a warning like this.

He even met that cunning old man, the Assassin King.

How did he meet that old man?

Coincidence?

No.

This was fate.

Intentionally crafted.

To set the stage like this.

And he didn’t stop improving his skills.

Did he visit a century-old alchemist for nothing?

Surely to gain something.

To toy with us like this?

She had no intention of being played.

A monkey atop a Buddha’s palm.

She hadn’t lived to be in such a position.

She’d uncover his intentions and turn the tables on Evan.

That way, she’d achieve her goal of the Sun’s Descent.

That was the Saintess’s aim.

“Arthur, how’s your sister doing lately?”

“She’s still fine.”

Arthur’s sister, Lila.

The Full Moon Church’s sole Saintess, suffering daily from divine illness due to her innate fate and vessel.

“Who knows? He might have a potion to cure your sister.”

“…Can you take responsibility for that?”

Arthur’s gaze turned icy in an instant.

Adrianne smiled leisurely.

“We’ll find out by checking. I got some good information.”

She pulled an invitation from her bosom.

An invitation to high society, accessible only to nobles or key figures.

“I heard Evan Alkart will be entering high society this time.”

That’s the opportunity.

A chance to approach him directly, uncover his intentions or information.

I’m looking forward to it.

What wicked plans was he devising?

“This is your chance to meet him directly.”

Unaware that Evan was simply thinking, “Let’s just get this A/S over with,” a deep smile formed on Adrianne’s lips.