Chapter 168

CHAPTER 168. Scum Among Scum, the Worst Kind of Scum

A moment passed while Rana, her gaze fixed blankly on Aster, finally found her voice.

“Forgive me, I must have misheard—would you mind repeating that?”

Her delivery was gentle, carrying the polite cadence of an apology, yet it deftly highlighted her companion’s breach of manners while ensuring her point was perfectly understood.

Observing her reaction, a realization struck Aster.

Naturally, it wasn’t a sudden awareness of his own lack of courtesy.

“I didn’t just speak without a filter… I completely threw caution to the wind.”

Right from their initial introduction, his tone had been entirely informal, and he had even provoked her with phrases like, “Are you prepared?” and “Go ahead, show me what you intended to do.”

Faced with such sheer audacity, a typical person might have lost their nerve, abandoning whatever plot they had concocted to flee the scene entirely.

So, how should he handle the situation now?

“What else can be done? The damage is already done.”

In predicaments like this, putting on a bold front is the most effective strategy.

To be fair, it wasn’t true confidence so much as unmitigated audacity—or rather, pure, unadulterated cheek—but it yielded a brilliant outcome.

For instance—

“Whose voice? Me? I haven’t uttered a single word, have I?”

“What are you implying—”

“Ah, of course. You mentioned your name is Lady Rana? I must apologize for delaying my proper introductions for so long. I am Aster. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“……”

Rana found herself utterly dumbfounded by the sheer effrontery of the man who had just completely rewritten reality right before her eyes.

There ought to be boundaries to shamelessness—when it surpasses a certain threshold, it becomes so preposterous that words simply fail you.

At any rate, having glossed over his blunder in that manner, Aster turned his intense, expectant gaze back onto Rana.

“Very well. What is your next move, then?”

He held a glass containing a rich, crimson beverage. As fate would have it, the garment beneath his formal outerwear happened to be pristine white.

Furthermore, despite having no prior malice, he had thoroughly agitated her with his insolent, informal banter, which surely meant her blood was reaching a boiling point.

He felt entirely prepared for whatever scheme she might deploy.

Should she attempt to trip him, he would intentionally tumble several times and pretend to spit up blood; if she so much as brushed against his clothing, he would crash to the floor with maximum commotion to capture everyone’s attention—and then spit up blood.

Admittedly, regardless of her tactic, his grand strategy invariably culminated in “spit up blood,” but still…

“Honestly, I can’t help but look forward to how this plays out.”

As he attempted to contain his rising anticipation—

Rana chose that exact moment to break the silence.

“Indeed. It is a pleasure to meet you as well.”

Rana managed to reconstruct the pleasant expression that had briefly faltered under her astonishment, her eyes shifting toward the container in Aster’s grasp.

“Regarding that beverage…”

“Yes?”

Aster replied instantly, his anticipation mounting.

“Were you planning to consume it this instant?”

“No. My intention was to save it for when I became parched, but…”

“In that case, would you mind handing it to me for a brief moment?”

“…?”

Though completely bewildered, Aster surrendered the glassware without offering any resistance.

Simultaneously, a specific thought crossed his mind.

“Is her intention to hurl it at my chest?”

It was a classic trope.

The stereotypical sequence of events—“How dare an outsider enter Brando and cause such a disruption?!” It might be a cliché, but a dramatic gathering always feels somewhat incomplete without it.

Yet, as that possibility entered his thoughts, a profound sense of conflict washed over him.

Tumbling onto the floor could easily be explained away by claiming, “The shock caused a sudden disruption in my internal mana, resulting in severe physical trauma,” which would satisfy most onlookers.

“However, getting covered in a drink and then vomiting blood seems a bit ridiculous, doesn’t it?”

Ultimately, none of the scenarios Aster had envisioned actually came to pass.

“Pardon me.”

“Yes.”

“This glassware appears far too unstable with that much liquid. Please reduce the volume and substitute it with a fresh vessel.”

Rana transferred the overflowing glass to a passing attendant, accepted a replacement filled to roughly two-thirds of its capacity, and held it out to him once more.

“It seemed far too hazardous to carry. Was my intervention uncalled for?”

“Uncalled for…”

As Aster’s voice trailed off, Rana offered a soft, pleasant smile.

“That is a relief. I worried I might have been meddling where I shouldn’t.”

No, you are absolutely meddling where you shouldn’t.

“What exactly is her objective right now?”

A container needs to be completely topped off so that both the person causing the spill and the one taking the fall receive a proper payoff. That was the precise reason he had requested it in that manner. And she simply reduced the portion?

Strangely enough, Rana’s baffling actions didn’t conclude there.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did your acquaintance with the Young Lord come about? Word has been circulating, but I find myself intrigued.”

“The reality aligns closely with the rumors. Reflecting on it now, it truly was a stroke of luck. Because of that turn of events, a person hailing from the Black and White Zone like myself is permitted to experience such a lavish lifestyle.”

He offered her a tempting target for criticism, assuming she was finally launching her counterattack.

Instead—

“Lavish? While Lady Gamo possesses a gentle nature, she maintains incredibly rigid standards regarding such matters. Please do not devalue your position in that manner.”

Rather than striking, she offered reassurance, bolstering his standing.

The surprises kept coming.

When he recounted the history behind Blood, Sweat, and Tears No. 1, her expression grew animated over a tale that possessed very little intrinsic appeal, and she remarked:

“Contrary to what the Young Lord claimed, this wasn’t an endeavor Aster orchestrated entirely on his own, was it? A symbol of mutual companionship. That is truly beautiful.”

By that point in the exchange, a profound sense of absurdity began to wash over him.

Even if one were to dissect the chronicle of that event down to its core components under a microscope, there wasn’t a single shred of actual companionship involved, yet she managed to reframe it so elegantly?

Furthermore—hold on a moment. Demian has been telling everyone that I accomplished the task entirely by myself? Splendid. I will certainly keep that in mind for later.

Regardless.

The interaction proceeded invariably along those lines.

Every single time Aster presented an opening for her to strike or criticize, she completely disregarded the opportunity—instead returning nothing but compliments and validation.

“What in the world… is happening here?”

He found himself entirely at a loss.

Could this be some bizarre, sophisticated method of torment?

Ultimately, thoroughly exhausted by his own psychological maneuvering, Aster had no alternative but to address the issue directly.

“Excuse me…”

“Yes, Aster?”

“There is a particular matter I am quite curious about—would it be acceptable to inquire?”

“By all means, ask whatever you wish.”

With a fatigued expression, Aster pushed back the strands of hair that had drifted across his face and consumed the remainder of his beverage in a single movement.

“What is your true objective here? It strongly appears as though you have an underlying agenda.”

At the very least, forcing the liquid down provided some relief to his throat, which had grown incredibly parched from the prolonged back-and-forth.

As his gaze locked onto Rana—

“An agenda? Is a specific purpose required simply to form a connection? Ah! If I must define an objective… perhaps it is merely the pleasure of conversing with you, Aster?”

Rana refused to drop her polite facade.

Aster pulled back the corners of his lips, displaying a radiant smile.

His capacity for restraint had officially run dry.

In the very next instant, the expression in Rana’s eyes shifted entirely.

“Hmph.”

She emitted a soft, quiet sound, completely wiping the pleasant look from her features. Simultaneously—with a sharp snap—she deployed a hand fan, concealing her suddenly detached countenance behind it.

Internally, Aster rejoiced.

“At long last.”

Those frosty eyes. Up until this precise second, she had maintained the demeanor of a cheerful, aristocratic maiden, but now she radiated the aura of a true practitioner of magic.

To put it another way, Rana had finally unveiled her genuine disposition.

That very transition triggered the tactical simulation within Aster’s mind.

“Excellent. Now, what is the most dramatic way to collapse so that everyone remembers it as a masterful display of vulnerability?”

At this point, he felt entirely capable of executing a blood-spitting routine even if he were merely doused with water. Throughout their conversation, he had been meticulously calculating the mechanics of the act.

And so, he waited in absolute suspense.

Then, the initial communication reached him.

The very second that first line resonated, Aster sank downward, positioning his body against a nearby column. To be more precise, he essentially dropped into a low crouch.

What caused this reaction?

A private transmission of magic had vibrated directly inside his ears.

[I understand you received word from Uncle Henji. You have my apologies—it appears as though I attempted to mislead you, even if that was never my genuine intention.]

Henji… of course. It was Henji.

He had anticipated that resolving that matter would require a far greater duration—what strategy had they deployed? Persuading the leader of the House of Zillox could not have been a simple undertaking…

Rana’s transmission persisted without pause.

[Aster, even though the situation remained a mere attempt, I am profoundly sorry for the incident involving the Paizin heir. Furthermore, though it ultimately failed to materialize, I offer my deepest regrets for entangling you in these complications.]

Her delivery remained detached, yet the sentiment carried an unmistakable sense of formal courtesy.

What response was appropriate given the circumstances?

“What I truly require… is a tangible form of compensation.”

“Sigh… how utterly frustrating.”

Aster let out a heavy, disappointed breath, letting his forehead drop.

He lacked even the basic motivation to engage in dialogue at this point.

The aristocrats who were supposed to be provoking him were actively retreating as though trying to avoid a plague, and now even Zillox—his absolute best prospect for a confrontation—was approaching him with an olive branch.

Yet, he couldn’t exactly fabricate charges to frame an innocent party as a wrongdoer either.

[Aster…?]

Hearing Rana’s voice vibrating in his ear once more, Aster simply dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

“Just leave.”

[The House of Zillox truly holds—regarding your person, Aster—]

“Everyone is merely doing what they must to survive. I comprehend the situation. Therefore, please just depart. For the moment.”

[…….]

Rana observed Aster’s demeanor for a brief interval before offering a respectful nod. As she pivoted to walk away, her features seamlessly reverted to the standard mask of an aristocratic debutante.

As she retraced her steps, she paused—

And cast a backward glance at the slumped figure of Aster.

“…What could be the reason?”

Judging by his sheer despondency, one would think his entire world had just shattered.

It was an emotional shift she found entirely impossible to comprehend.

In an effort to unravel her bewilderment, Rana began reviewing the sequence of their discussion in her mind—just as Carmel, who had been socializing with the other nobility, stepped up beside her.

“What impression did he leave upon you?”

“From my perspective…”

Rana systematically cataloged her conclusions.

She could easily turn around to look back at Aster at any second, but she deliberately chose to formulate her assessment based entirely on the mental image she had constructed.

If she allowed herself to look at that deflated posture, her conclusion would undoubtedly degenerate into mere pity.

Following a brief period of contemplation—

Rana voiced her definitive evaluation of Aster.

“The capacity of his character is immense.”

“Is that so?”

Carmel’s expression sharpened with curiosity.

It was an exceedingly rare occurrence for Rana to describe an individual’s personal capacity in such grand terms.

“Would you mind elaborating on why you think so?”

“It appears Uncle Henji disclosed details regarding our internal affairs to him.”

“And what occurred?”

“Aster… despite possessing complete knowledge of those matters, maintained a pleasant demeanor and engaged in conversation with me. He harbored absolutely no resentment. Furthermore, he definitively… granted me his forgiveness without hesitation.”

“I see.”

Carmel found himself astonished by two distinct revelations.

Initially—

“Henji actually divulged details regarding our lineage?”

This implied that Henji placed absolute confidence in that youth—a reality that would leave anyone familiar with Henji’s rigid character utterly stunned.

And secondly—

“He possessed that knowledge, yet chose to converse with Rana without a shred of animosity? He went so far as to absolve her of blame?”

This represented the most staggering realization.

There existed a mere pair of archetypes among humanity capable of offering a pleasant countenance to an adversary whose malice they recognized—while simultaneously granting absolution.

One archetype was a colossal figure whose inner magnanimity surpassed ordinary comprehension.

The alternative was a calculating serpent capable of masking lethal intent behind a facade of warmth.

Henji himself fell into the latter category, but regardless of which description fit the boy, it was an extraordinary trait.

“At a mere fourteen years of age…”

Reflecting on the fact that even Henji had lacked such composure at fourteen, it was nothing short of miraculous.

“Could there truly be a valid justification for Lady Gamo focusing her attention on him?”

As Carmel arrived at that conclusion, a sudden hypothesis formed in his mind.

Was it possible that even that seemingly reckless demeanor and pattern of speech were calculated components of a grander strategy? Much like the historical figures of old who purposefully obscured their true potential until the opportune moment arrived.

“Now that I recall, did you not mention he informed Lady Gamo of a specific matter? That he had corrected the behavior of that Paizin individual.”

“Indeed. I received that report as well.”

“I initially dismissed it as a mere justification for a physical altercation… are you suggesting there was greater substance to it? What is your take?”

“My conclusion likely aligns precisely with your own, Father.”

Receiving that confirmation, Carmel signaled his agreement with a nod.

“So the matter stands thus?”

His offspring’s analysis mirrored his own observations.

That the wanderer emerging from the Black and White Zone, completely contrary to his superficial presentation, was operating with a grand objective rather than being swayed by trivial grudges.

What course of action should they pursue then?

Carmel directed his attention toward the area where Paizin was located and communicated privately.

[For the immediate future, maintain a vigilant watch over Paizin. Should that youth genuinely demonstrate verifiable proof of a reformed character, we ought to allocate resources toward Aster as well.]

[Allocate resources…?]

[Whatever is required. We must ensure that whenever the youth encounters the name Zillox, his primary emotion is one of profound appreciation.]

Upon receiving this instruction, Rana’s eyes narrowed slightly in contemplation.

[I grasp the logic behind the alliance, Father. Yet, why must Paizin serve as the benchmark for this decision…?]

[Why choose a piece of human garbage like him as the defining metric?]

[Precisely. That is my question.]

Carmel released a brief, mocking chuckle.

[Rana. Do you honestly view Paizin as merely a common degenerate?]

[…?]

[He represents the absolute absolute worst—the most irredeemable variety of degenerate. Standard individuals are typically shaped by the constraints of their environment, but he is an anomaly. Within Tulke’s direct ancestry, where else can you locate a youth of that nature?]

[…Such an individual does not exist.]

[Exactly. He cultivates his own delusions of grandeur entirely independently, actively seeking out and pioneering new methods of depravity on his own accord. Thus far, the internal regulations of Tulke’s household have been sufficiently absolute to prevent him from committing a truly catastrophic crime, but finding a degenerate of that caliber is exceptionally uncommon.]

Hearing the situation articulated so plainly, Rana offered a nod of agreement, recognizing the absolute validity of his points.

However, a sudden objection crossed her thoughts.

[Even if one categorizes it as reformation, did the entire encounter not ultimately amount to a display of raw physical coercion?]

Any individual possessing sufficient physical might can discipline an unruly beast with a weapon. The genuine challenge lies in fundamentally altering a person’s nature through deliberate, constructive influence.

Yet Carmel dismissed her perspective, viewing the underlying mechanics entirely differently.

[Do you honestly believe that degenerate has never experienced physical correction from his sire even once? Despite enduring that level of brutal discipline, he consistently maintained his path of depravity without faltering. Yet you are suggesting an outsider successfully altered his behavior? Have you considered the implications of that reality?]

[That would imply…]

[It indicates that the youth known as Aster commands an extraordinary variety of influence. A power substantial enough to correct a degenerate whom even his own flesh and blood could not fix over the course of a lifetime.]

Carmel articulated his thought, then directed a brief look toward Aster’s position.

His subsequent words carried an immense weight of gravity.

[And individuals who command that specific brand of influence invariably alter the course of history. Much like the legendary founders who originally established our great lineages.]

…!

Rana experienced a sudden shock and involuntarily snapped her gaze back toward Aster.

This marked the absolute first instance she had ever witnessed her sire bestow such unparalleled praise upon an individual. Even when discussing Demian—universally heralded as the most brilliant prodigy within the House of Brando—his assessment had never reached such dizzying heights…

“That seemingly miserable youth?”