“Hehehe. Well, that changes things. Oh dear, get up, get up. You've got dirt on your pants. Hey.”
The coldness in Patrick's voice disappeared, and was replaced by a great deal of warmth. As he watched Patrick personally help Billy to his feet and even dust the dirt from his knees, as if he were a close friend, Billy couldn't help but have one thought.
It was the thought that everyone, whether friend or foe, had when they faced the Radiant Dragon Grandmaster, Jin Cheon... 'What kind of bastard is this?'
Yes.
That was the normal reaction.
"Uhehehe...."
"Uhehehehehe.."
"Eumhahahahahahaha!” 'What kind of bastard is that?’ 'What kind of bastard is that?’ I’ll say it again. This is the normal reaction. The wealth Billy had accumulated over the years was quite immense. Cash and jewels, of course, as well as all sorts of treasures and—though he didn't know much about them—what looked to be expensive works of art, made Patrick dance with joy. And so, it was perfectly natural for Red and his subordinates to watch Patrick, their faces filled with disbelief as he let out a crazy laugh. “Money~ Money~♪ This is all money~♪."
Red carefully approached Patrick, who looked like a madman—no, thinking about it coolly, he was definitely mad.
“Um, young master.”
“Hmm? Why? Surely you're not trying to demand a share of this money, are you? No, right? It better not be.”
As Patrick put both his hands on the sword at his waist, putting pressure on him, Red hurriedly said.
“No, sir. The young master can have all of it.”
“Hmm. Yes. That's right. If you have a conscience, you would say that.”
'Conscience?
Did this bastard just say the word conscience with his own mouth?' Red was now officially the Master of the thieves' guild that controlled the Parmas underworld, but the moment the word 'conscience' came out of Patrick's mouth, he felt truly aggrieved.
“So? What is it?”
“Yes. It's nothing else, but what are you going to do with that bastard over there?”
Red pointed at Billy, who was shivering in a corner.
“What do you mean, what am I going to do? I said I'd let him live.”
"Are you really planning to let him live?"
“I promised.”
“How frustrating!”
Red shouted, his face angry. Then, pointing his finger at Billy, he said.
“Why do you need to keep a promise you made with a piece of trash like that?”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. This is why you uneducated sons of thieves are like this....”
“That bastard may be trash, but I'm not. If I break my promise, what makes me any different from that trash?”
Grind...
Red ground his teeth. If he could do as he pleased, he would have torn Billy apart and fed his corpse to the dogs. But when Patrick acted this way, there was nothing he could do.
To the fuming Red, Patrick said.
“So, I won't kill that guy.”
“...”
“I, for one.”
“... Yes?”
“What... What did you say?”
At Patrick's words, a startled Red asked back, and Billy, who was just starting to feel a sense of relief in the corner, also asked back in surprise. And Patrick said...
“I took the money, so I have to keep my promise. I won't kill him. I, for one.”
“By that you mean....”
“Well, it means other people are not my problem, right? For example, someone who's shaking with rage because their father was poisoned.”
As soon as Patrick finished speaking, a cruel smile appeared on Red's lips. And Billy shot up to his feet and shouted.
“The... the promise is different, isn't it? You said you would let me live!”
“I told you I'm not killing you. I won't kill you. But hey, it's not like I'm going to protect you forever, right? After that, you're on your own.”
“Y-y-you... You're worse than a thief!”
Billy screamed in despair, but Patrick paid him no mind and just cleaned his ear. There was no need to pay attention to the screams of a man who was about to face a miserable death.
“Tie him up and lock him in the basement.”
"Yes."
At Red's command, his subordinates rushed at Billy, gagged him, and tied him up tightly.
"Let go! Let me go! Mmmph!"
He would most certainly not die a comfortable death.
A few days later, The workers who had followed Patrick and were staying in Parmas whispered amongst themselves.
“What's wrong with the young master?”
“I don't know. I'm not sure, but he's been like that for the past few days.”
“He looks like he hit the jackpot or something.”
They could see Patrick sitting at a table, with expensive cookies and cake laid out, munching away and grinning foolishly.
“Ehehehehe... Keukeukeukeu... Eumhahahaha.”
No matter how you looked at it, he did not look like a sane person. But Patrick didn't care how he looked to others. That's how happy he was.
The matter with the thieves' guild was neatly resolved. In just one night, the conflict that had divided the underworld of Parmas was resolved. It was the result of Patrick's intervention.
As a result, Patrick earned a tremendous amount of money. The payment from selling the monster materials he had prepared in the first place was already huge, but the wealth Billy had accumulated was even greater. Even better was...
"Hehehe, the money from selling the monster materials is the fief's public fund, but this is my pure, personal slush fund.” The property confiscated from Billy was money earned purely through his own hard work and sweat (?).
"Ehehehehehehe."
So how could this man, crazy for money, not be happy? If it were actually possible for a person to die from happiness, Patrick would be dead right now. He had only given a little help to connect with an informant, but he never expected such a windfall.
After laughing his head off for a while, Patrick put his hands together, sent a wistful gaze towards the sky, and said.
“Master, so this is why people must do good deeds. This unworthy disciple has finally understood your profound intentions.”
The Sect Leader of the Twin Dragon Sect, who would have yelled, "That's not it, you bastard!", was not here right now. However, a slightly cumbersome thing was that a significant portion of the assets seized from Billy were things that took up a lot of space and required careful maintenance. Like marble sculptures?
Or expensive-looking paintings, things like that. 'What kind of thief liked art so much? Was he speculating on it or something?'
In any case, such things were inconvenient to take to the fief, and if they were damaged due to improper storage, their value would plummet. So he planned to dispose of them before leaving... Just then, as if he had been waiting, Red stepped forward.
[Hahaha. Don't worry. I will dispose of it all for you.]
[... You?]
[Yes, now that I'm in the same boat as the young master, can I not offer at least this much help?]
[Youuuuu?]
Patrick looked at Red with a reluctant expression. Then Red spoke with a hurt look.
[Surely you don't distrust me, do you?]
[Yeah. I don't trust you.]
[Are you saying I would try to lowball the price?]
[Yeah. I think you would.]
[No, why don't you trust me? Why?]
Patrick said to Red, who was throwing a fit, claiming it was unfair.
[What's your profession?]
[A thief.]
Ah, so that's why. That makes sense. But even after that, Red passionately argued that he was the best person for the job.
He repeatedly persuaded Patrick, saying how many works of art he had handled as a thief and that no one but him could dispose of this many pieces in such a short time.
[Tch, well, it is a pain to find another merchant to handle it at this point.]
[That's right, young master.]
[Besides, in a way, these are stolen goods, and a thief would probably be good at disposing of stolen goods.]
[I'm a total expert.]
[And if I entrust it to you, I won't have to pay a brokerage fee, right?]
[That's righ... Huh?]
[Ayy, what's a fee between us? Right?]
Patrick's hand slowly went down towards his sword again. And seeing that, Red smiled with satisfaction and thought. 'Son of a bitch.'
The petty scheme of a thief who tried to skim something off the top was crushed, and now Patrick just had to leisurely wait for the settlement money that would fall into his lap. 'Hehehe, he must have gotten a lot, right? He must have.
If he doesn't want to die, he'd better have gotten a lot.' Just as Patrick was reveling in his happiness...
“Young master, a visitor has arrived.”
“Hmm? Who is it?”
"I'm not sure, but they brought this letter and asked me to deliver it.” As Patrick read the letter that Chandler had presented politely with both hands, his expression turned serious.
“Tsk, what is this situation now?”
“What's wrong?”
“No, I have to go see first. Wait a moment.”
“Yes, I understand, young master.”
Patrick got up from his seat and headed for the thieves' guild headquarters where Red was.
“You've arrived, young master.”
Seeing Patrick, Red bowed his head respectfully.
“Yes. Is what's written in the letter true?”
“Yes. That bastard Billy was brazenly running an illegal slave business.”
“He was a madman.”
Patrick clicked his tongue.
Illegal slaves.
In this Atronia Kingdom, the word slave meant exactly one thing.
A criminal.
In other words, a slave is the temporary status of someone serving a sentence to pay for their crime as punishment. No other kind of slavery is recognized at all. In fact, even with Brian, on whom Patrick had carved the slave's subordination magic, he had gone through the official procedures and paperwork before carving the magic.
If one were to proceed with that arbitrarily, it would be treated as a serious felony, and everyone involved could be executed.
“Crazy bastard. If we had just left him alone, he's the type who would have ruined the entire guild someday.”
Patrick said to the fuming Red.
“So, where are the victims you mentioned?”
“They were locked up in a hidden shelter underground. We've taken them out and are protecting them for now, but....”
“Let's have a look." Patrick thought he needed to see them with his own eyes. And the result of seeing them for himself...
“They're all just kids.”
“There were adults too, but they've already been sold off to foreign countries. The kids here are mostly in poor health, so it seems they couldn't be sold.”
“They were all illegally made into slaves, right?”
“Yes. Some were kidnapped, and they also brought in orphans who were wandering the streets after their parents died and forcibly carved the magic on them.”
“Haaa... That son of a bitch.”
“My point exactly.”
Patrick scratched his head and thought. It was only right to free the children who were wrongfully enslaved. The problem was...
“What happens if we free the kids?”
"Won't they manage to live well on their own?"
“Where?”
“Anywhere.”
It was like that. Red's words might sound heartless, but this was normal. If you went to the city's back alleys right now, it wouldn't be hard to find children living by begging or petty theft.
There's no one who could help them all. 'Even the country can't save people from poverty. Who am I to take responsibility for these kids.’
If he just fed them a hearty meal, gave them a few coins, and then let them go, that alone would make Patrick a good enough person. So, he should just do that. He should, but...
[Master, where did you sell off your clothes again?]
[Seriously, what are you doing giving away your own clothes to help kids? Please think before you act.]
[Do you think those snobs from the prestigious righteous sects will respect you for that? They just laugh at you for being a man who can't even maintain his dignity.]
[What on earth do you gain from doing that, Master?]
His sucker of a Master, who would try to help any hungry and struggling child he saw, without a second thought. This wasn't something new, but hearing that he had even given away his clothes, a frustrated Jin Cheon threw a fit in anger. And his Master smiled gently and said.
[Didn't I gain you??]
[..............]
This old man, leaving him speechless. He was the Master who had picked him up when he was dying of cold and hunger as a child and fed him a bowl of thin porridge. It was so watery it was closer to rice water than porridge, but it was what his Master had given him by sacrificing his own food.
Jin Cheon never forgot that bowl of porridge for his entire life. Because he never forgot the warmth and grace contained in that one bowl, the Radiant Dragon Grandmaster, Jin Cheon, could exist.
Therefore...
[Cheon-ah... Don't you feel pity for the children?]
He heard his Master's voice in his head.
“Ah, seriously, this damn brainwashing education!”
The moment he seemed to hear his Master's voice, Patrick yelled out without realizing it.
“Yes?”
“Aish, I'm not this kind of person.”
Red had no idea what was going on.
But...
'Let's not try to find a reason for everything a madman does.' he ended up thinking. And Patrick said...
“Feed the kids well, get them clothes to wear and other necessities, and send them to me.”
“Are you going to take them in, young master?”
“Yes. I'm going to take them to our fief.”
“Can you decide something like that on your own, young master? Do you not have to ask for Baron Schneider's opinion?”
“My father?”
Patrick let out a small chuckle.
"I've brought back children who were pitifully captured as slaves."
When he said that, would Baron Schneider really refuse? Would he yell, "Why did you bring back these useless brats who only waste food?"
“I can't even imagine it.”
"What can't you?"
“It's just something. Anyway, don't worry about my father. Just feed and clothe the kids well and send them to me.”
“Yes, I understand.”
After giving the order to Red, Patrick looked up at the ceiling, furrowed his brows, and said.
“This is what you wanted, right? Right?”
It was as if he could see someone nodding with a benevolent smile. Someone he missed dearly...