The Terminally Ill Young Master is the Mad Dog of the Underworld

[Translator - Pot]

[Proofreader - Kawaii]

Chapter 111: The Old Knight

The next morning.

"Mother, I’ll be heading back now."

"Take care of yourself."

"Brother! Come visit again!"

"Of course."

After bidding farewell to his mother and younger brother, Peter exchanged a brief glance with Bridget.

"I’m off."

"Okay."

Bridget waited quietly until the sun reached the center of the sky.

"I’ll be going now."

"Bridget! Where are you off to?"

"Oh, I heard a new general store opened nearby. I’m just going to check it out!"

"Be careful on your way."

Bridget stepped outside, a note tucked in her pocket.

‘The streets have become so quiet and safe lately.’

Walking through the now peaceful slums, where even a young girl could wander alone without much danger, Bridget arrived at the newly opened pawnshop and general store.

"Wow."

It was more impressive than she had imagined. The clean and tidy building felt somewhat out of place in the slums.

‘They really sell all sorts of things here.’

Bridget scanned the display counter. The variety was so vast that it lacked any sense of uniformity.

‘Why did they even open a pawnshop here?’

Unable to figure out the reason, Bridget’s eyes sparkled as she looked around the shop.

"Welcome. Oh, a little lady."

The elderly man minding the shop smiled warmly at Bridget.

"Are you here on an errand for your mother? Feel free to look around."

There was something noble about the old man. His neatly combed white hair and well-trained physique gave him an air that didn’t quite fit the surroundings.

"Um, well…"

Bridget hesitated, glancing around before speaking.

"Hmm? What is it?"

Recalling the code phrase Peter had whispered to her, Bridget said:

"Um, so… ‘I’ve found the lost star.’"

"…!"

A glint appeared in the old man’s previously gentle eyes.

* * *

Here is an old man named Gareth.

He was once a respected knight in a certain barony. Though not as distinguished as knights appointed by dukes or marquises, he had his own skills and had devoted himself to his territory.

‘Those were shining times.’

But how miserable it is to grow old and frail. As time flew by, his physical strength waned, and he became a middle-aged man contemplating retirement.

"I can’t take it anymore. Let’s get a divorce."

"My dear, are you serious? Why all of a sudden…"

"All of a sudden? All of a sudden? Hahaha!"

With a hollow laugh, she grabbed their son's hand and walked away..

"Sir Gareth, that answer is exactly why I want a divorce."

Drinking alone in the cold and empty house, Gareth reflected on the past.

Looking back, there had been many signs. He just hadn’t noticed them.

‘When my son was sick, when my wife fell ill with an unknown disease, when a man from the underworld who held a grudge against me hung a chicken’s head at my doorstep…’

Each time, how indifferent had he been?

Yes, that’s right. He hadn’t even bothered to say sorry, let alone have a proper conversation.

When his son, who had returned home after a long time, looked at him with fear and unfamiliarity, that should have been the moment he realized something was wrong.

……But was it wrong to have devoted himself to his territory? After days of shutting himself in and drowning in alcohol, he finally requested retirement from the lord.

His body had weakened, and the family he had built over a lifetime had left him.

It was awkward to return to his older brother, who had inherited everything from the family, and he had no connection with his younger brother, who had already started his own family.

“Sir Gareth, thank you for everything.”

“……I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

After settling his assets and collecting his severance pay, Gareth wandered across the entire region of Litvaleur, making a living in all sorts of ways.

A guard for a merchant caravan, a bodyguard for a noble, a mercenary……

While working for the caravan, things were quite decent. He even developed an eye for spotting good items.

“No, Mr. Gareth. Why are you leaving?”

“…….”

But Gareth already knew that wasn’t a place where he could stay for long.

In truth, ever since he had relinquished his knighthood and left the territory where he had devoted his youth, there was no longer any room in his heart for a sense of belonging.

After a long period of wandering, he eventually arrived in the Principality of Grunewald.

“Ah, this place……?”@@novelbin@@

“Hehe, another country bumpkin gaping at the city of Grunewald.”

“Even the royal capital wouldn’t be this splendid. It’s truly amazing.”

A bustling port city, thriving to a degree incomparable to the rural baronies he had known.

It was a shock. Among the overflowing crowds and countless stories, Gareth realized that someone like him was of little significance.

The old man found that comforting.

“This place charges ridiculously high rent everywhere, damn it.”

“This is actually cheap. Where on earth are you from?”

He hid his past and adapted to the ordinary life in the chaotic back alleys.

Yet, even in his old age, his unique skills were more than enough to easily crush the immature thugs of the underworld.

“Damn it, it’s that old man again!”

“Stop causing trouble and get lost quietly, or go bring that boss of yours, Vincent or whatever.”

“Damn it! Just you wait, you old bastard.”

“Hahaha! Sure, let’s wait and see, you good-for-nothings!”

It got to the point where it became a saying on the streets not to mess with the old man drinking alone at the tavern.

It was Zizek who sought out Gareth and proposed to hire him.

“This is absurd. Why should I do that?”

Zizek revealed his ambition to clean up the streets, centering around the pawnshop.

“……Is that so? You’ve really changed, Zizek.”

Of course, Gareth was acquainted with him too. He secretly admired Zizek’s sense of loyalty, as he not only refrained from causing trouble but even took in those who had nowhere to go.

“I heard you swept away Vincent’s little gang. What’s gotten into you?”

In response to Gareth’s question, Zizek grinned and said.

“Old man, I’ll tell you on your first day of work.”

The two drank so much that day that their noses were practically crooked. And the next day, Gareth was officially hired.

“Wow. You look so sharp.”

With a clean shave and a fresh haircut, Gareth looked every bit the part of someone who had once been called ‘Sir Gareth’ making it hard to dismiss it as the ramblings of a senile old man.

“At this level, even if a noble were to visit, they wouldn’t feel uncomfortable with the reception, right?”

“Cut it out, boss.”

“Hehe. Hearing such half-respectful words from you feels strange.”

And so, the retired old knight Gareth joined the organization as a combatant, a store manager, and a liaison.

* * *

“Phew, I almost lost my head.”

As Zizek returned, rubbing his neck after negotiating with the Black Night Society’s leader, Rob greeted him.

“Boss! Everything went well, right?”

“Of course. Did anything happen on your end?”

“Ah, actually, there’s something I need to report.”

“What is it?”

“That liaison girl you mentioned before came by.”

“!”

It was definitely the family of Peter, the boy who served as Young Master Allenvert’s attendant. Zizek asked nervously.

“You handled her properly, right?”

“Anyone who saw would’ve thought she was a granddaughter visiting her grandfather.”

“Really?”

Zizek chuckled at that.

“I guess he has that side to him too.”

Zizek recalled the stories Gareth had spilled while drunk.

‘Maybe it’s because he misses his son.’

Though by now, even that son would have grown into a young man.

“I didn’t open the note.”

“Good job.”

Zizek unfolded the note Bridget had delivered from Allenvert.

- We’ve obtained information that remnants of the Eisenach are located in the highlands of the northern region. Verify and report back. The deadline is four days from now.

“……Huh.”

Zizek let out a sigh.

“How can things align so perfectly?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Rob, remember? The story about the remnants of the mountain tribe that supplied unusually good medicinal herbs and spirit medicines.”

“Ah!”

Rob’s eyes widened.

“You don’t mean…?”

“Yeah.”

Zizek grinned.

“……We’ve found out where their base is.”

“Wow, this is too perfect. Then we can find them quickly, right?”

“Yeah.”

Zizek muttered.

“The problem is, those people are also relatives of Young Master Allenvert.”

Survivors of Eisenach.

……And the exiled royalty of the mountain tribes.

‘Just when I thought we’d overcome a big hurdle, an even bigger mountain is waiting.’

He felt the weight of the serious matter pressing down on his chest.

“Boss, if this goes wrong, aren’t we screwed?”

Rob whispered, his face pale.

“We’re already tangled up in it anyway.”

“Damn. You’re right about that.”

“Don’t whine. Once a ship sets sail, the only places to get off are the sea or a deserted island.”

Zizek shut down his subordinate’s complaints.

“By the way, what exactly did that merchant guy say?”

“He told us how to meet their representative. Since we’d need an introduction through someone, it’s not something we can use right away, but he did give us the name of the organization they use publicly.”

“Högländere.”

Zizek nodded.

“A strange name. What does it mean?”

“I don’t know either.”

“Might be in the mountain tribe’s language.”

As Zizek muttered, Rob asked.

“So, boss, where is their base?”

Zizek raised a finger upward.

“The northern district.”

“Th-the northern district?!”

“You know, that hill neighborhood. The one with the particularly crazy kids.”

“Ah, damn it. Of all places.”

Rob sighed. The northern district was a dangerous place where even the men of the underworld couldn’t let their guard down.

……And of course, the same went for Zizek.

‘Damn, this is a bit nerve-wracking.’

But Zizek was a man used to hiding his emotions.

‘Whatever, let’s do it.’

He had boldly negotiated at the Black Night Society’s base and returned unscathed. How different could this be?

“Tell the kid to come back in four days.”

“Understood.”

By then, Bridget would be able to deliver good news to Grunewald Castle.

***

“Why are you fidgeting like a dog that really needs to poop?”

At my question, Peter hunched his shoulders and replied.

“I’m worried about whether Bridget is doing okay.”

“I can’t tell who’s worrying about whom.”

I chuckled.

“From what I’ve seen, Bridget is way sharper than you.”

“You’re right. The plan you came up with is perfect too.”

“Then what’s there to worry about?”

“I’m sorry.”

I’m not unaware of what’s on Peter’s mind. But still.

“Try to trust Bridget a little more. Her instincts are far from ordinary.”

Besides, the area was already becoming more stable under Zizek’s influence. Since I’d even secretly instructed Zizek to protect Peter’s family, there shouldn’t be any danger.

‘Unless Verdzig steps in.’

Of course, I can’t perfectly predict what’s going on in that man’s head.

Anyway, my conclusion is that it’s hard to anticipate what Bridget might do as a variable at this point.

“Bridget will be safe. I’m also paying special attention to her.”

“Yes.”

I quietly studied Peter’s face—a boy who, at a young age, had become the head of his house and should have been the young master of a baron’s Clan.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I was just thinking how tough your life has been.”

“Me?”

Peter shook his head as if it were absurd.

“I’m lucky just to be serving you, young master.”

“Well, hmm.”

I nodded.

“That’s true.”

“Right?”

“Then act like it.”

“…….”

I gestured for Peter to leave.

“Go out and train now.”

“You’ve been really dedicated to training lately.”

“There are times when I just want to lose myself in the sword.”

Of course, I didn’t need to tell him that it was to forget the other passions raging inside me.

[Translator - Pot]

[Proofreader - Kawaii]