The atmosphere grew quiet for a moment. Then Valoria suddenly asked, "He lent you one million gold coins?"
"Yes." Catrina nodded. "On the condition that he participates in my business."
"Tsk!" Valoria clicked her tongue. "Then you must keep an eye on him. I hope he won't cause you trouble."
"Hahaha... Why would you say that?" Catrina laughed lightly.
Valoria glanced at Lathel. A faint flush warmed her cheeks, and she rose as if to leave.
"Aren't you going to stay with him a little longer?" Catrina asked hurriedly.
"No need." Valoria shook her head and sighed. "I'm afraid if I see him too often, I'll lose control of myself."
Catrina said nothing more, her hand unconsciously stroking Lathel's hair.
Valoria looked at him, eyes misty. It was hard to believe that such moments of weakness could belong to a woman as strong as her.
"But if you go on like this, he'll have no one to rely on."
Valoria started to walk away, then suddenly halted. She turned back with difficulty and stared at the handsome face—now flushed crimson from too much drink—her heart aching as though someone squeezed it.
She set her jaw, turned decisively, and—voice a little choked—said, "Catrina, look after him for me."
Then she left.
Catrina watched Valoria's retreating figure, feeling heavy inside. She bowed her head, glanced at Lathel, and exhaled softly.
...
Outside, Alex ducked down a quiet alley, produced a small vial, and swallowed it in one gulp.
At once, his wound stopped bleeding. The blood dried quickly.
He breathed a long, relieved sigh, though his eyes still burned with fury.
"Damn it!" he muttered. "Lathel—what secret are you hiding about them?"
He was certain Lathel held some secret—the weak spot of Catrina and Valoria—hence their protection.
"I can't wait any longer. If I do, Catrina, and perhaps Arina too, will fall into Lathel's clutches."
Alex imagined Lathel grinning lecherously, one arm around Arina, the other holding Catrina—then—
"No!" Alex barked, veins standing out on his forehead, forgetting the pain Valoria had inflicted.
Suddenly, countless streams of light swirled around his right hand.
Alex frowned and flicked his hand. The lights formed a strange sigil, hovering and radiating an eerie golden glow.
"A response from the Divine Dragon Guild... just as I thought. They'll help me," Alex said with a cold smile.
He traced a gesture in the air as if writing, then snapped his hand. The sigil vanished as if it had never been.
"Huh! Lathel, laugh while you can." Alex ground his teeth, voice ice-cold. "Once I stabilize Catrina's business, you'll be the first to die."
...
Northern Region.
Snow blanketed the land year-round. Wherever one looked, it was nothing but white.
Deep beneath the earth, in an underground base, a group of figures in black robes had gathered in a chamber.
At the center of the room, a magic sigil suddenly flared into blinding golden light.
One man said, "Looks like the Young Master really needs our help."
"But that violates the Divine Dragon Guild's rules," another replied.
"Indeed. The Young Master is still in his trial period. He cannot accept aid from the Divine Dragon Guild. If we help him, we break the law."
"Huh! Cowards. If we don't tell anyone, who'll know we helped the Young Master?"
"He's right. Now is the perfect time to help the Young Master. Once he becomes Guild Master, those who helped him will reap great rewards."
"Exactly! Hahaha... If you won't help, step aside and let me do it."
Murmurs rose and fell until a black-robed figure barked, "Silence!"
Everyone fell quiet and turned to the robed man touching the sigil Alex had sent.
He frowned and spoke quietly. "The Young Master needs an Alchemist to assist him. Whoever wants to go, keep this secret. None of you may reveal we're helping the Young Master."
They nodded in silence.
"But..." someone asked, "We haven't even seen the Young Master's face. How will we find him?"
The robed man nodded. "Don't worry—we have a password to recognize each other."
"I'll go!" a girl piped up, smiling. "I'm an Alchemist—perfect for the Young Master's needs."
They all exchanged looks, then nodded in agreement.
The robed man continued, "You're an Alchemist. Your rank isn't high, but you're suitable to help the Young Master at this stage. Go to the herbal quarter in the Kingdom of Falin and wait there."
The girl nodded. "So... what's the password?"
The robed man hesitated, sighed, and said, "The password is: 'All the beauties under heaven are mine.'"
The girl: "..."
Everyone else: "..."
"What's with those faces?" the robed man snapped angrily. "Do you think that password's stupid?"
They kept silent.
Each of them thought: 'We're not saying it, but YOU saying that password sounds ridiculous.'
"Huh!" the man snorted in disdain. "The Master is very clever. He thinks ordinary passwords are easy to guess. The more idiotic the password, the less attention it draws."
"Have you ever seen someone walk down the street shouting: 'All the beauties under heaven are mine'?"
They all immediately nodded—suddenly it made perfect sense. Even the dumbest person wouldn't shout such an embarrassing phrase in public.
"The Young Master truly is a genius."
"Right. A shameful password like that—no one would guess it, and no one would dare use it."
"Our Young Master is a genius. Hahahaha..."
The girl let out a long sigh and asked, "Then... what am I supposed to say in response?"
The black-robed man frowned. "The Young Master gave clear instructions. If the one helping him is a woman, you must reply with: 'Are you buying me? I'm a beauty—just one thousand gold coins.' If the other person counters with one gold coin, that's the Young Master."
Everyone fell silent.
A password like that... no one in the world could have come up with it—and even if someone did, they'd never dare use it.
"Fine." The girl exhaled, turned around, and left.
The black-robed man watched her go, then turned to the others. "Don't worry. The Young Master will need more help later—there will be plenty of chances for all of you."
...
Two days later.
Lathel slowly woke up, feeling like someone had smashed his head with a hammer.
"Ack! Damn it!" He clutched his head and blinked his eyes open, realizing he was in his own room.
"This place... how did I even get home?" he muttered.
He vaguely remembered someone asking him about his family, and after that... nothing.
Lying on the bed, Lathel sighed deeply, his heart heavy and weary.
In his previous life, he'd been an orphan.
At seven years old, he was adopted by an ordinary couple—only to later discover they'd joined a heretical cult.
The cult claimed that sacrificing an orphan would cure infertility, and the couple believed it.
He was lucky to survive, though one of his arms had been broken in the process. It eventually healed—but never fully.
That's why, deep down, the word "family" terrified him... yet he still longed for it.
Exhausted, Lathel whispered, "System."
[I'm here.]
"How long was I unconscious?"
[About two days.]
"Ah... How did I make it home?"
[You drank yourself into oblivion and passed out. The servants brought you back to the mansion.]
Lathel nodded lightly, not surprised. He was, after all, the only son of the Empire's most powerful Duchess—everyone knew who he was.
If he'd collapsed at Spring Garden, someone would've made sure he returned home safely.
"Two days already?" Lathel mumbled.
[That's right. You'd better get ready—there's a script event today.]
"Heh?!" Lathel frowned. It felt exactly like waking up on a Monday morning before work.
[Don't worry, it's a simple one. You'll need to head to Falin Street today. I'll send you the full scenario shortly.]
"Ah." Lathel nodded tiredly. He truly wished this damned novel world would just end soon so he could move on to another one—and finally live a peaceful life.
He got up and, out of habit, stripped off all his clothes before picking out a new outfit.
It was an old habit. After all, in his past life, he'd lived alone for over thirty years—walking around naked didn't bother him.
Just as he stretched and took a deep breath—
Krit—
The door opened.
Catrina stepped in with a gentle smile. "Lathel, you're awake. You—heh?!"
Lathel: "Heh?!"