A rumor was currently making the rounds among the nobility. Some were merely curious, while others were utterly shocked.
It began with the Count of Genest, widely known for his honor and integrity. He was the one who had taught the current Emperor the way of the sword, a powerful man with countless connections in noble society.
Yet, this very man had a child out of wedlock.
From this clandestine affair came a child, born to a lowly servant woman—neither beautiful nor intelligent by any standard of the court.
And yet, that bastard child had become the sole heir to the County of Genest, ascending to the title of Count after the passing of the former patriarch.
Whispers spread like wildfire, with many speculating whether the death of the former Count's only legitimate son had been orchestrated by the illegitimate child.
However, with no proof and none brave enough to ask outright, the matter remained in secrecy. Many wondered, what the young Count looked like.
Was he worthy of the title, or merely a lucky bastard?
Some viewed the situation as pitiful, while others saw an opportunity—to marry off their daughters and lay claim to the coveted lands of Genest.
Meanwhile, within the territory of Genest, the new Count, Stephen Genest, sat in his office surrounded by towering piles of paperwork.
"Damn it," he cursed, his frustration boiling over as his quill snapped in his grip. He placed his hand on his temples, an annoyed expression plastered on his face.
Stephen Genest had only recently adopted the surname of his father. It had been just a month since he formally became the head of the household, but the troubles he now faced were overwhelming.
After the former Count's death, Stephen inherited a mountain of troubles—old and new.
Not only had his predecessor left a backlog of unresolved issues, but his half-brother, the former heir, had also left a messy history of spending.
For the past month, Stephen had barely slept, dealing with the funeral arrangements, securing the official documents to confirm his inheritance, followed with the disloyalty of servants and the officials' incompetence.
"These damned corrupt officials! Half the treasury is gone! And that fool of an heir squandered over 100,000 gold coins in a single trip—and then he had the nerve to die!"
Stephen's anger erupted. The former heir, spoiled and indulged by the late Count, had died in a carriage accident during travel.
The grief had weakened the old Count, who soon became bedridden. As his health deteriorated, the officials grew bolder, embezzling over 2 million gold coins for their greedy purposes.
Even the servants had betrayed the household, fleeing with priceless rubies and valuables.
The mansion itself was falling into ruin.
The entire estate had once been worth over one-hundred million gold coins. Now, Stephen was left with only a fraction of that—barely 500,000 gold coins—and winter was just five months away.
Droughts and famine had ravaged the economy, leaving the city's markets in ruin. Many shops had closed, and the merchants had abandoned the territory, except for a few loyal to the Count's house.
Stephen had meticulously calculated the costs of restoring the territory, but the sum was staggering, far beyond his current means.
"Damn it, I was happy in that little town. Why did they have to drag me here?" he muttered bitterly.
Stephen had grown up in a small town with his mother. Life had been peaceful, until the imperial guards arrived, proclaiming that he was the bastard son of Count Genest.
Since then, his life had been turned upside down, forced into the world of nobles, paperwork, and marriage offers from every corner of the empire—all hoping for a piece of his inheritance.
As a commoner, Stephen had no formal education in the ways of nobility. Commoners were not allowed to attend most academies, and only a select few were ever granted admission under strict conditions.
"If it weren't for my memories, this entire territory would've collapsed already."
Stephen still recalled fragments of his past life. Reincarnated into this world of swords and magic, he had once dreamed of becoming a magician or a swordsman.
But reality had quickly set in—he had no aptitude for magic, nor any talent with a blade. Resigned to his fate, he had settled into the life of a simple townsfolk, working alongside his mother.
It was only the memories of his previous life as an office worker that had given him the skills to manage even a fraction of the territory.
Taking a deep breath, Stephen tried to calm his racing thoughts. The biggest obstacle now was money and the territory's shattered economy.
He had already gathered enough evidence to expose the corruption of the officials. If he brought this to the imperial court, he could recover the stolen funds.
"All I need to do is piece this together."
He rose from his desk and collapsed onto the sofa, as he wanted to sleep for a few hours. His head pounded with exhaustion, and tomorrow he had more pressing matters to tend to.
There were no longer any servants in the mansion. Stephen had been forced to do everything himself to keep the estate afloat.
---
The next morning, Stephen made himself a cup of tea and stood on the balcony, gazing out at the gloomy atmosphere hanging over the city.
[System Synchronization Complete.]
[The Store is Now Open.]
Stephen had gained access to the system shortly after becoming the heir, but it had taken time for the synchronization to complete.
Now, he could finally access the store, which offered a variety of items—some magical, others from the modern world he once knew.
But the prices were too much for him, ranging from 100 gold coins to well over 100,000, and even into millions.
Neigh! Neigh!
Stephen's attention was drawn to the sound of a carriage approaching the mansion gates.
He turned away from the balcony and set his tea down on the table, a faint smile appeared on his lips as he returned to his paperwork.
'It seems they've arrived,' he thought, amused.
Moments later, the doors to his office were flung open, and several men barged in.
"What is the meaning of this, Stephen?!" The leader, Gervais Pierlot, was an obese man in his late fifties, the steward who managed the finances of the estate.
"Good day, Sir Pierlot. I take it you've received my letter?" Stephen sipped his tea, his cold eyes locked on Pierlot.
"That's why I'm here! What's wrong with you?" Pierlot's voice rose in anger, though his bluster only deepened Stephen's disdain.
Setting his cup down, Stephen spoke calmly. "There is nothing wrong with me, nor with the letter. The problem lies with you and the others." Stephen stood up, his tall frame, standing in front of the small Pierlot.
Pierlot's face paled as Stephen leaned forward. "The treasury. It once held a million gold coins, along with countless rubies and valuable items. According to these documents, you've been taking funds—not once, but multiple times."
Pierlot began to sweat visibly, struggling to find an excuse. Another official, Christian Messier, the bailiff, stepped forward.
"But those funds were used for essential expenses! We had to manage the funeral and the daily upkeep of the servants—"
"Ah, Sir Messier," Stephen interrupted, a dry chuckle escaping his lips. "You're correct, but take a look at this."
Stephen slid a paper across the table. Messier hesitated, then stepped forward to examine it. His eyes widened in shock as he read the damning details.
"You see now, don't you?" Stephen's voice was soft but laced with authority and disdain. "Those documents outline the amounts you've embezzled, even while the former Count was in good health. Now, about that letter—yes, I'm taking you all to court."
The officials were dumbstruck. Wilfrid Ange, the tax collector, could no longer contain his anger. "How dare you! Do you even know who we are? We may be officials, but we are nobles! Unlike you, a bastard with common blood!"
Stephen sighed, approaching Wilfrid with measured steps. Without warning, he slapped the man across the face.
Wilfrid fell on the floor, clutching his red swollen cheek. He pointed at Stephen. "You dare—"
"Dare? Let me remind you, I am the Count. I own the lands you stand on. This territory is mine. You insult me in my own home, and by doing so, you insult the Emperor who granted me this title."
Stephen ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. "You're all going to court. And I'll be adding the charge of disrespect to the list—barging into my mansion without notice, insulting me in my halls. Get out."
His cold eyes sent a chill through the room as the officials retreated in shock.
Stephen sat back down, returning to his paperwork. "Leave!" he shouted, causing the rest of the officials to leave the mansion, visibly anxious for what lay ahead.
Stephen sighed and continued with his paperwork. He couldn't rest at all, as he had numerous matters to tend to.