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

[Translator - Pot]

[Proofreader - Kawaii]

Chapter 175: The Midnight Assassin

“As expected, you’re quite capable, Skella.”

Verdzig leaned back in his chair after receiving Skella’s report.

“The quality of your reports is exceptional. Your observational skills, reasoning, and thoroughness are all remarkable.”

A rare, satisfied smile lingered on Verdzig’s lips.

“From your very first mission, you’ve never disappointed me.”

“……”

Skella remained silent, standing still without offering any response to her master’s praise. It almost seemed as though she alone harbored no fear of Verdzig.

‘That must be the last vestige of your pride.’

Verdzig chose not to trample even that. After all, Skella was special to him.

‘Looking back now, I should even be grateful.’

He felt he owed thanks to his uncle Malekian’s foolishness. It was thanks to the reckless assassination attempt his uncle had orchestrated that Verdzig had gained Skella as a gift, after skillfully resolving the mess.

“By the way, there’s a rumor about something that happened at the Black Night Society.”

Verdzig turned to his aide, Harald Grimar.

“Please, go ahead.”

“Was the Black Night Society affiliated with the Bisakino Brotherhood?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Verdzig’s mind was filled with the intricate lineage of the four major organizations operating in the underworld of Grunewald.

“It’s a bit too convenient to dismiss this as just a rivalry or infighting among factions.”

“I share the same opinion.”

“Share your thoughts.”

“Yes.”

Harald, ever the disciplined soldier, responded with a composed demeanor.

“First, it’s unlikely that this was the work of a rival underworld organization hiring assassins.”

“I agree.”

Verdzig nodded.

“Yes. If it were an ambush, it was far too noisy. And if it were an underworld organization, they would have surely declared their motives to justify the conflict.”

“Go on.”

“Second, it’s also unlikely to be a personal vendetta. The fact that those who lost their will to fight were spared, and that Krahel’s death was delivered in a single strike, suggests otherwise.”

Harald’s deep knowledge of the underworld was, in fact, somewhat peculiar.

As a high-ranking officer in the royal guard, the chief of staff of the 2nd battalion, and the eldest son of a military clan from a foreign land, it was unusual for him to be so well-versed in such matters.

“Considering that there was only one assailant, someone capable of handling them all alone, and that the Bisakino Brotherhood’s emblem was slashed as a warning…”

Harald bowed his head slightly as he spoke.

“This unknown assailant might be targeting the Bisakino Brotherhood through the Black Night Society.”

Given the information at hand, his reasoning was flawless.

“What’s your take on this?”

However, Verdzig, as if testing the insights of his two subordinates, turned to Skella with the same question.

“It’s a plausible theory.”

Skella had no choice but to respond.

“However.”

“However?”

“The fact that the third son of the Cardovan was kidnapped still bothers me. What if that was the real objective?”

As Skella presented a different perspective, Harald’s thick eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly.

“Even if that’s not the case, it’s worth considering other possibilities. It’s curious that the third son of Cardovan was seen mingling with the Young master Somerset.”

Verdzig smirked like a snake as he countered.

“Perhaps the perpetrator has a stake in both Somerset and the Bisakino Brotherhood?”

“……It’s hard to say if such a person truly exists.”

“Or maybe the assassin’s goal was to target someone who fits the criteria you mentioned.”

“Is there such a person?”

“One name comes to mind.”

Harald, looking utterly clueless, asked.

“Your Highness, may I ask who that person is?”

“Huten. The man who’s been scheming and manipulating Somerset.”

Verdzig let out a lazy laugh.

“It seems there’s more to this than what we currently know.”

“……I’ll look into it immediately.”

“No, you won’t. Skella, consult with the shadows and investigate.”

Skella, who had remained silent, disappeared into the shadows without a word.

“……How rude.”

Harald couldn’t hide his displeasure at her attitude, but Verdzig only wore an inscrutable expression.

“Harald.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t pick unnecessary fights.”

Harald immediately dropped to one knee.

“My apologies for overstepping.”

“Enough.”

Verdzig gestured for Harald to rise, then crossed his arms and sank into thought.

“Things are getting interesting.”

Now that Verdzig had begun to closely monitor the movements of the Bisakino Brotherhood, the Black Night Society, and Huten—

It wasn’t entirely impossible that he might eventually uncover the names Zizek and Karzan.

* * *

Head Butler Aiden was quietly observing Friederun in the side room.

“Head Butler.”

Noticing the tremor in Friederun’s voice, the Head Butler spoke.

“Don’t be so tense.”

“……”

Aiden, the Head Butler who oversaw all the servants, maids, and attendants of the Duke’s household, was an imposing figure even to Friederun.

Moreover, she had been tasked with gathering information from the Head Butler and relaying it to Lusatia.

‘He arranged it that way to maintain at least some connection with the outside world.’

Thus, over the past seven years, she and the Head Butler had developed a certain level of communication.

That’s why this situation felt even more unsettling. She knew all too well how deep and terrifying the Head Butler’s schemes could be.

“I apologize, but even if you press me, it will be difficult to change Her Ladyship’s mind.”

The Head Butler responded calmly, as if her words were absurd.

“His Highness is not the type to do such things. You know that better than anyone.”

“That may be true, but……”

From Friederun’s perspective, it was only natural to feel uneasy.

“As you know, His Highness has lost his memories of the past.”

The Head Butler’s words only deepened her unease.

“No matter what memories you shared with him in his youth, they’ve all been erased.”

“Yes……”

She felt a mix of loneliness and fear. The son who had been coldly pushed away by his mother was now coming to persuade her to meet him.

And to make matters worse, he was now the direct heir of the Grunewald Ducal House, a prodigy who had shaken the duchy with tales of valor that were unimaginable in his past.

If she were to imagine him as the boy he once was, she would be in for a rude awakening.

“Prepare yourself, Friederun.”

The Head Butler rose.

“His Highness will be here soon.”

Of course, she couldn’t hear or sense anything, but as a master of his craft with senses to match, Count Aiden could detect even the faintest sound of a spider’s footsteps in the hallway.

“…….”

Just as Friederun swallowed dryly several times, the sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway began to grow louder.

“Go out and greet him.”

“Yes.”

Allenvert walked through the night, his white face flickering in and out of view as he passed through the faint light.

The boy with large, gentle eyes and a face as beautiful and pure as an elf’s had now—

“Young Master.”

After seven years, he had become a man who carried himself with confidence and a relaxed smile.

“Are you the Head Maid, Friederun?”

His eyes, shining with steely determination, were like starlight.

“……It’s an honor to see you again, Young Master.”

Friederun couldn’t help but see the kind boy from her memories in Allenvert, who no longer remembered her.

“You’ve truly grown into a remarkable man.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she quickly bowed her head.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. If anything, I’m the one who should be sorry for not remembering you.”

From her tears alone, Allenvert could easily tell how much affection she held for him and how deeply she regretted the current situation.

“Friederun.”

Allenvert took her dry hand in his.

“But I’ve read about you many times in the diaries I wrote in the past.”

“Ah!”

“So you’re not entirely unfamiliar to me. Lines say you’re strict and a bit cold, but in truth, you’re more affectionate than anyone.”

Allenvert gave her a slightly playful smile.

“It seems my past self had a good eye for people.”

Why did such a simple remark strike such a chord? Friederun pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes.

“Don’t be nervous. I’m not here to pressure you.”

The conversation was unfolding differently than she had feared, and Friederun felt her tension easing slightly.

“I just have something I must convey to my mother, no matter what.”

The Head Butler, who had been silently observing their reunion, excused himself.

“I suppose it’s something I shouldn’t hear.”

“Head Butler, thank you for understanding.”

“Not at all.”

Once the Head Butler had left, Allenvert entered the side room and closed the door behind him.

“……Friederun.”

Allenvert’s tone shifted slightly, and Friederun tensed up.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“What I’m about to tell you is the absolute truth.”

What could he be about to say that required such a serious preamble? As she wondered, Allenvert whispered to her.

“Not long ago, I made contact with the survivors of Eisenach.”

“……!”

Friederun was stunned by the unimaginable revelation.

* * *

The Svaltalfar, the most renowned assassination clan in the kingdom.

They operated branches in every major principality and city.

“Well, it’s been a while.”

The man was a distant relative of the Svaltalfar clan and the head of their Grunewald branch.

“It has been a while, Luktum.”

“So, who are you here to kill this time?”

His tone was unusually casual and irreverent for someone speaking to a member of the Count’s household, but Silas didn’t take offense.

“Huten of the Bisakino Brotherhood.”

“Hmm?”

Luktum removed his dark-tinted glasses, showing interest.

“Huten, as in the executive of the Bisakino Brotherhood?”

“Correct.”

His eyes were entirely black, with only the pupils appearing white, giving him an eerie appearance.

This was actually a mark of the dark arts passed down through the Svaltalfar clan.

“What’s the payment?”

“Name your price. I’ll pay whatever you ask, just bring me his head.”

“Heh, hehehe.”

Luktum let out a carefree laugh.

“To think I’d live to see the day our meticulous Silas makes such a generous offer.”

“Do you accept? No upfront payment, though.”

Luktum, with his black eyes, smirked.

“Consider him already dead.”

His confidence didn’t sound like mere bravado—it was the assurance of someone who wielded dark arts.

“Will his head suffice as proof? Or do you want an eye or an ear?”

“His head.”

“Ah, that’s a bit of a hassle.”

Luktum playfully shook his head.

“Well, give me a day. A target like him won’t last the night.”

He stood up as casually as if he were going for a nighttime stroll.

“Come back tomorrow to collect your prize.”

* * *

Luktum effortlessly bypassed the tight security as if it were child’s play and arrived at Huten’s residence.

“Well, well, what’s with this confidence?”

He whistled at the sight of the wide-open door, as if welcoming a guest.

“Took you long enough.”

Huten stepped out slowly, speaking as he did.

“A distant relative of the Svaltalfar, huh? Quite the big shot.”

“You know me?”

“Of course. Luktum, right? Didn’t expect you to come personally.”

“Hehe, this is awkward.”

Luktum shrugged, his expression relaxed.

“I wonder what you’re relying on. Did you set a trap? Or is there an ambush?”

“If you can’t figure that out, then your skills are as limited as they seem.”

“…….”

Luktum’s ever-smirking lips stiffened slightly. He couldn’t sense anything.

“Hahaha! Scared, are we? Why so tense? There’s no one else. Just me.”

Huten clapped his hands and laughed.

“You’re more timid than I thought.”

“Hehe, hehehe.”

Realizing he’d been outplayed in a psychological game, Luktum’s smile now carried a hint of malice.

“They say Huten’s tongue is sharper than a blade. Seems true.”

“Care to test that?”

“That’s why I’m here. No need to rush.”

Luktum removed his dark glasses, revealing eyes that resembled those of a demon rather than a human.

“You know the rule, right? Anyone who sees these eyes must die.”

“If you’re going to impose your rules on others, you’d better have the skills to back them up.”

Huten chuckled and slipped his hands into his pockets—

At that moment, as if waiting for the perfect opportunity, Luktum’s body dissolved into the shadows.

Swish!

Like the flapping of an owl’s wings, a silent, lightning-fast strike aimed for Huten’s neck.

An invisible attack, moving at an imperceptible speed. Luktum’s blade, swift and deadly, was about to sever Huten’s throat as he stood motionless, seemingly unaware—

“Huh?”

In the next instant, Luktum’s vision tilted unnaturally.

Thud!

Luktum’s headless body collapsed forward.

‘Did I… lose? How…?’

That was as far as Luktum’s thoughts went.

The assassin’s vision darkened, and his head, severed exactly as requested by his client, fell to the ground with a dull thud.

“What a pitiful end, Luktum.”

Huten picked up the severed head and spoke.

“Well, such is the fate of an assassin who takes the wrong job.”

Luktum’s eyes, now devoid of focus, returned to their original color.

“Huh? What’s this?”

Huten chuckled as he observed the change.

“So, you weren’t born a monster after all? Even the Svaltalfar’s assassin.”

Luktum paid the ultimate price for his ignorance.

[Translator - Pot]

[Proofreader - Kawaii]