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

[Translator - Pot]

[Proofreader - Kawaii]

Chapter 139: Why Has Somerset Been So Quiet Lately?

After several days, Somerset finally returned to the Security Guards, only to find his mother waiting for him, as if to make a point. He swallowed a sigh.

‘Damn it.’

It was obvious. The vassals his mother had planted must have been running their mouths. Those mutts who couldn’t even recognize their own master.

“…Mother, you’re here.”

“You have the banquet to attend tomorrow—”

Bianca stood up, her voice icy.

“And yet, you still reek of alcohol. Did you go out again last night?”

“……”

“It seems you’re determined to make a fool of yourself in front of your father.”

Her sharp tone, interrogating him the moment they met, made Somerset clench his teeth, suppressing the anger rising in his chest.

“You already know everything, yet you still want to hear it from my mouth.”

Bianca’s eyebrow twitched.

“Are you mocking me right now?”

“……”

Just like with his uncle, Somerset found it difficult to defy his mother beyond a certain point. He turned his head away without a word.

“Let me ask you one thing, son.”

“…Ask.”

“I know what you’re thinking.”

Bianca continued.

“Do you really think your brothers don’t know about your dealings with the underworld and your reckless behavior?”

“!”

“If you’re attacked for this at tomorrow’s banquet, how will you respond? Will you deny it and storm out?”

Bianca meticulously pointed out the flaws in her son’s shallow thinking.

“Do you even have the guts to do that in front of your father?”

“……”

“And even after that, do you think you can stand before me and babble about your methods and plans?”

Somerset gritted his teeth under her harsh criticism.

“It’s not like I’m the only one doing this. Even Verdzig, for instance—”

“That’s a childish excuse.”

Bianca cut him off.

“Are you saying you’ll attack Verdzig in front of everyone tomorrow?”

Her voice was filled with utter disappointment.

“You can’t do it. But Verdzig can. That’s the difference between you and your brother.”

“……”

Somerset remained silent, and Bianca raised her voice.

“I thought you’d at least have some plan, but it seems you’ve been drinking and wandering around without a care, whether the banquet is tomorrow or not.”

How had he grown into such a pitiful and irresponsible man? Though his stature was larger than anyone’s, his mind was petty and narrow.

“You’re twenty years old now. Do you still think the world revolves around your shallow thoughts?”

Under her relentless pressure, Somerset shut his eyes tightly.

‘Again, again. Damn it.’

It had already been two years since his coming-of-age ceremony. How long would she keep berating him like a child, trampling on his feelings?

…Just to control him as she pleased.

“Somerset, has your life ever gone the way you wanted? Born as the third son of the ducal clan, you’ve only known how to act recklessly and violently among the servants who cater to you. Have you ever truly surpassed your brothers or earned your father’s recognition?”

Bianca’s words stomped mercilessly on the deepest part of Somerset’s pride.

“Please, stop it!”

Somerset slammed his foot down and shouted.

“I’m really sick of this!”

“What did you say?”

“Every time I stand in front of you, I feel like my chest is shrinking!”

Somerset’s eyes were bloodshot.

“All you do is nag, scold, criticize, insult, and humiliate me. But I! I don’t deserve to be treated like this! I am Somerset Grunewald, the third young master of the noble Grunewald clan!”

“…Are you raising your voice at me now?”

Bianca’s expression turned as cold as ice.

“Yes, is that not allowed?”

Somerset growled.

“Are you perfect, Mother? If you were perfect, you would have raised a perfect child. Not some pathetic commander of the Security Guards!”

Somerset’s attitude, screaming and pouring out his resentment, showed no trace of the son who used to carefully gauge his mother’s mood.

“Somerset.”

But Bianca was no ordinary woman.

“Even if you weren’t particularly bright, you were never a child who lacked this much sense.”

Even as her grown son shouted at her with bloodshot eyes, she didn’t bat an eyelid and simply asked:

“Are you on something?”

“Ha! So now you want to say I’ve lost my mind, is that it?”

Somerset sneered in response.

“No, I’m not on anything. Did you think I was that lacking in self-control and that stupid?”

Somerset turned his back, as if he no longer wanted to engage in conversation.

“It seems it’s time to replace all the vassals you planted around me. If they value your words more than mine, there’s no need to keep them around.”

“Somerset!”

“If you won’t leave, then I will.”

Bianca glared at Somerset’s retreating back as he walked out of the barracks.

“He’s completely lost his mind, Somerset.”

This was no longer the son she knew. His suppressed resentment and defiance were erupting like a volcano.

Upon reflection, it was unnatural. Bianca instinctively sensed there was another cause.

“…How dare those scum from the underworld mess with my son?”

Surely, someone had incited and fed Somerset’s anger, paralyzing his reason. For someone who had always felt inferior to his brothers, that poison must have been deceptively sweet.

If so, the culprit was obvious.

“The Bisakino Brotherhood.”

One of the five major organizations ruling Grunewald’s underworld. Their mischief had crossed a line that could no longer be ignored.

“Do they not fear Grunewald, or the Agrippa clan?”

If so, it was a foolish thought, born of ignorance.

Even without involving Duke Georg, the Agrippa clan alone could deal a devastating blow to them.

But punishment wasn’t the urgent matter now.

‘Given how fiercely Somerset is acting.’

It might be better to prevent him from attending the banquet.

Of course, under normal circumstances, she would have done just that… but…

‘It’s a banquet hosted by him. He can’t miss it.’

What worried her most now was the intentions of Verdzig and the Bergen clan.

‘If they try to use Somerset’s situation to cover up the Evan Bergen incident.’

She would never allow such a despicable attempt. It would create a massive rift between the Agrippa and Bergens, the two maternal clans.

“…Verdzig.”

Bianca gritted her teeth, thinking of her husband’s other sons.

“Do you think everything will go your way?”

His arrogance would need to be corrected sooner or later.

***

As the Agrippa clan feared, Verdzig had been watching Somerset’s actions as clearly as if they were laid out on his palm.

“Somerset, Somerset.”

His assessment of the situation was simple.

“You’ve underestimated the men of the underworld too much.”

Verdzig sneered.

“They’re not the kind to be easily manipulated by a young master too foolish to realize he’s being played.”

To think that Somerset, in his current state of incompetence and inadequacy, had chosen to rely on the underworld figures he partied with as his trump card?

“How pathetic. This is what they mean by a desperate move at the end of a losing game.”

“Indeed, my lord.”

Verdzig’s butler replied.

“It’s absurd to think he can wield the underworld like a blade when he can’t even control his own vassals.”

Wasn’t it his responsibility to turn the vassals provided by the clan into his own subordinates? If he couldn’t even do that, how could he aspire to the throne?

Verdzig could barely contain his laughter at his brother’s greed.

‘You believe you can control your subordinates simply by intimidating them with your bloodline and status.’

Persuasion, bribery, assassination, threats, and sometimes charisma and competence.

How could one possibly control subordinates, disrupt the reporting system to their maternal clan, and eventually turn them into loyal followers using nothing but personal strength or the title of a young master? It required mastery of persuasion, bribery, assassination, threats, and sometimes even charisma and competence.

‘But how many of these has Somerset actually managed to pull off?’

Verdzig chuckled softly.

“Pathetically, the master is being used by his own servant.”

How should he exploit this? Should he humiliate Somerset, subtly provoke him, use Barclava’s mouth to deliver a message, or perhaps extract concessions from the Agrippa clan first…?

Verdzig smiled as he pondered the best course of action among the flood of schemes swirling in his mind.

“It’s raining heavily.”

Verdzig closed his eyes, savoring the sound of the night rain.

‘Somerset. You’re showing your underbelly so easily.’

His younger brother, though lacking in wisdom, had a naturally strong physique. His martial skills were objectively impressive.

‘Your misfortune…’

Was simply being born among overly capable brothers. Or perhaps it was your greed, failing to recognize your own limitations.

‘Then you too shall become my pawn.’

Just like Barclava.

***

Strangely, it was a night of pouring rain. I sat by the window, gazing at the harbor scene in the rain.

Ships with folded sails and dropped anchors huddled together to escape the rain, while a few cloaked figures moved about. I muttered to myself.

“They’re having a hard time.”

This was also part of my training. I focused my vision to the extreme, trying to read the expressions and lip movements of people who appeared as small as ants.

Such meticulous control of mana could also be used to enhance vision or hearing.

‘How old was I in my past life when I could use techniques like this?’

It was something I could only do after being at least ten years older than I am now. Looking back, my current growth rate is absurdly fast.

‘I’m growing stronger at an unprecedented pace.’

But there’s still a long way to go. I need to master the sword techniques and begin learning the Seven Stars of the Black Sea Technique left by the founder of the Grunewald, Sir Vitenfeld. For that, I’ll have to return to Ludan.

‘But for now, the upcoming banquet takes priority.’

To deal with Father and Verdzig, I need to carefully plan my approach.

‘Life’s busy, isn’t it?’

As I reflected on the chaotic time that had passed, a face came to mind.

“Zizek, I wonder how he’s doing.”

It’s been a while since I last saw Zizek. Verdzig’s surveillance has been relentless.

‘I set up a communication channel through Peter and Bridget to avoid that surveillance, but before I could use it much, Verdzig caught on.’

The moment you let your guard down, he finds a way in.

“Annoying bastard.”

I cursed as I thought of Verdzig.

Fortunately, this time I was able to use Rudgarda as a third card, allowing me to send a letter to Zizek and rescue Evan’s mother, but—

‘I can’t keep asking a top-tier figure like the Sixth Commander of the Special Operations Division to run errands for me forever.’

At this banquet, I plan to confront Verdzig directly.

‘The best outcome would be to shake off his surveillance.’

If that’s too difficult, well…

Maybe I should learn something like a stealth technique to evade surveillance more covertly? The Grunewald archives might have martial arts of that kind.

‘No matter what, I need to meet Zizek soon.’

Zizek and his organization are still weak.

‘They need to grow stronger quickly.’

Just as you can’t have a day without night, the underworld is an unavoidable part of the path I must walk.

But for Zizek to become my reliable blade, there are still many mountains to climb.

‘After selling of Nepherus’s body this time, I’ll have to share some of the money with Zizek.’

I was just thinking of telling Olivier when—

‘Huh?’

A name I had forgotten suddenly came to mind.

“Speaking of which, why has Somerset been so quiet lately?”

Is he dead?

[Translator - Pot]

[Proofreader - Kawaii]