Inside the guest room of Count Vinlig's mansion, a man who appeared to be a merchant sat comfortably, his robust body adorned with golden rings on his fingers and teeth made of gold.
He wore a necklace that gleamed, giving him an air more befitting a noble than a simple trader.
'So, that woman divorced this fool,' Vorila mused to himself, seated on a sofa with his legs elegantly crossed.
He savored a chicken drumstick placed before him, observing the two servants standing attentively on either side.
Their presence made it abundantly clear to him that the lavish hospitality he was receiving stemmed from the news of Kassidy Liander's divorce from Count Vinlig.
It amused him how only a simpleton could treat him like this.
Whenever he visited this estate, Kassidy often arrived late to greet him, sometimes neglecting to even offer him a glass of water, fully aware of his frailty.
Yet today, in this food-scarce territory, he was presented with an abundance of delicious dishes.
He surmised that the Count himself must have orchestrated such a display of generosity today.
'Should I really offer copper coins for a corpse? Hahaha,' he chuckled inwardly as he devoured the succulent chicken.
It was a thought that entertained him, given that he had consistently had to pay an enormous amount of three to four gold coins for each monster corpse before.
In all honesty, he mused, he could probably manage with a single copper coin.
However, given the exceptional treatment he was receiving, he decided that a silver coin might be a more fitting gesture, one that would demonstrate his supposed magnanimity.
"Hahaha," he laughed again to himself.
'Why is the master feeding this scoundrel?' one of the servants thought, quietly observing the scene.
Previously, this same servant had been instructed by the lady of the house to treat this merchant harshly and without mercy.
Now, witnessing the Count's amiable approach, it became evident that the noble was setting himself up to be deceived today.
Yet, the servants were mere commoners, powerless to voice their opinions in matters of nobility.
All they could do was remain silent, pondering how the Count's kindness might sometimes work against his own interests.
"Come here, my little monster," Count Vinlig chuckled as he entered the guest room, playfully poking the infant's cheek while the child reflexively yanked away each time.
'Look at that idiot,' Vorila remarked, seated comfortably in a chair, not even bothering to stand.
A smug smile on his face, he revealed his gold teeth, clearly satisfied with the situation.
He knew that if it had been that woman instead of this man, she would have made him sit on the floor.
Today, Vorila had a well-thought-out plan for revenge.
'What's going on here?' Vorila's thoughts sharpened as he caught sight of the infant cradled in the Count's arms.
'!'
The moment he met those golden eyes and noticed the sparse black hair on the child's head, a chill ran down his spine.
He recognized those features all too well; they belonged to that woman.
Instinctively, he stood up but quickly grabbed the arm of the sofa, forcing himself to relax.
What could this child possibly do now that the divorce was finalized?
He managed to greet the Count in a nonchalant manner while still seated, saying, "Welcome, Count. I apologize for my rudeness; I have a knee injury, making it difficult for me to stand."
'?!'
'This pig!' The head maid and the servants in the room exchanged glances, glaring at the merchant who was clearly trying to mock the Count by feigning an injury.
It was evident to them that Vorila was belittling the Count's presence and status.
"It's perfectly fine; there's no need for formalities," Count Vinlig replied, keenly aware of the merchant's intentions.
Though there was an urge to confront him about his insult, the Count understood that this was his only opportunity to secure some much-needed funds for his territory.
He suppressed his ego, taking a seat while still cradling the infant and adding, "Let's begin our negotiation."
"Hoho, how generous of you," Vorila said, his narrowed green eyes studying the cornered man before him.
Holding the title of Count meant nothing to Vorila; he sensed desperation in Vinlig's demeanor and need for financial assistance, which presented him with an opportunity to lower the price significantly.
'What is with this damn gorilla?' Lucian, in his infant body in the Count's arms, was observing everything since he left his room.
While he primarily intended to use the Count to observe the whole mansion, he saw only snow all around without any greenery.
Not only that, but he also observed the training ground with a mix of fear and curiosity the moment he noticed how soldiers brought forth a series of monsters.
One thing that was sharply noted by him was that each corpse was mostly intact.
Additionally, as he entered this room, his gaze fell upon the man adorned with flashy rings and gold teeth—a typical appearance of a greedy merchant.
It became clear to Lucian that this was a transaction involving the sale of those monsters to this gorilla.
However, what really caught his attention was how this gorilla remained seated.
Not only that, but he also said something, and the moment he did, Lucian noticed the expressions of the servants and head maid, clearly indicating that this gorilla was mocking the Count.
Naturally, putting things together was easy for Lucian. After absorbing everything, he reached the conclusion that, without greenery and with the area covered in snow, this was likely some land in a barren region with no crops.
Additionally, snow cannot just fall on the Count's mansion alone; most likely, his entire territory is in a cold, desolate land.
Given that the monsters' intact bodies were brought by soldiers with caution, even though the soldiers seemed exhausted from within, it clearly showed their desperation.
Now, this merchant in front of him—it wasn't hard for Lucian to put all the pieces together and understand that this was a desperate deal, where one needed to appear calm.
But the Count, even after being taunted by this merchant—evident from the expressions of the servants—by not saying something and taking the seat, like an idiot, had given this man the upper hand, clearly showing his desperation, causing Lucian to instinctively slap his forehead.
'Shit, how can you be so gullible, old man!'