Claude gave a half-hearted thanks for being saved, then asked Ghislain to buy him a drink.
Unable to hold back any longer at such brazen behavior, Gillian stepped forward.
"Show some respect. This is Baron Fenris of the Lutania Kingdom."
At that, Claude twisted his mouth into a smirk.
"So what? I've always lived like this. If you don't like it, go ahead and kill me."
Gillian frowned and didn't say another word.
That reckless, self-destructive attitude was oddly familiar.
Before meeting Ghislain, Gillian himself had worn that same expression.
Watching the two, Ghislain nodded knowingly.
In his past life, he had spent a long time with Claude.
He understood better than anyone why Claude acted this way.
"There's no need for formality right now."
"Right now?"
Claude raised an eyebrow, frowning in confusion.
Ghislain only responded with a sly grin.
Though Ghislain seemed fine with it, those following him couldn't hide their displeasure.
They had saved a man from nearly losing his wrist, and he wasn't even grateful, just acting defiant.
They couldn't shake the thought that this was a waste of time.
'Why did the captain come here to meet someone like that? He just seems like a gambling addict.'
'He doesn't even appreciate being saved.'
Ghislain noticed their reactions and defended Claude.
"This friend is going through a tough time. Something big happened. He's been hurting."
At that, Claude's expression hardened.
"You think you know what I've been through? Just who are you?"
"Relax. I just heard some rumors, that's all."
Claude eyed him suspiciously.
What rumors could there possibly be about him? Most people would only know him as a tutor or a gambling addict.
But Ghislain seemed to know what he had been through.
"Hey, don't be so tense. You want a drink, right? I'll buy you something good."
Acting overly friendly, Ghislain slung an arm around Claude's shoulder.
Claude grimaced.
He'd just gotten free of those thugs, and now some strange nobleman was clinging to him.
He tried to slip away, but there was no way he could overpower someone who could shatter a sword with his bare hands.
With a scowl on his face, Claude was dragged off by Ghislain.
The mercenaries followed, grumbling to themselves.
Since Ghislain was standing up for Claude, they had no choice but to hold back.
One person, however, Belinda, narrowed her eyes and glared at the back of Ghislain's head.
'This is so strange. Where does he find these unusual people?'
Everyone Ghislain recruited seemed lacking or flawed in some way.
Even if he was deliberately looking for people with issues, it wouldn't be this extreme.
'Now it's a gambling addict?'
Belinda sighed as she mentally reviewed the people Ghislain had gathered around him.
'I guess I'm the only normal one around the young master.'
She trailed after Ghislain, shaking her head, conveniently ignoring the fact that she herself wasn't exactly normal.
***
Ghislain led Claude into a lavishly decorated tavern.
"Everyone, relax and have a drink. I'll have a word with this friend."
The mercenaries eagerly found their seats, but Gillian didn't let them get too comfortable.
He organized them into shifts for guard duty and warned them not to get drunk or he'd deal with them himself.
Grumbling, the mercenaries couldn't defy Gillian.
Ignoring this, Ghislain dragged Claude to a secluded corner and sat him down.
As the fine wine and food started arriving, a spark of life returned to Claude's eyes.
'Seeing him up close, he's in worse shape than I thought.'
Ghislain silently observed Claude, occasionally sipping from his glass.
Claude, who'd nearly lost his wrist, didn't even seem to care about that—only reacting strongly to the alcohol.
That meant he was broken mentally.
"Not only did I keep my wrist, but now I'm getting treated to some fine wine. I must be blessed today. Cheers."
With that, Claude downed his drink.
Ghislain matched his pace, drinking silently.
They kept ordering more rounds, downing drink after drink.
Without any mana control or significant stamina, Claude was the first to falter.
With his face flushed, Claude muttered.
"You're good at drinking. But judging by your eyes, you don't look like the type who enjoys it."
"If it's there, I drink; if it's not, I don't. Though I do enjoy a good bottle of Red Dragon."
"Hah, you like something even the royals can barely afford? Talk about a bluff. Anyway, you didn't save me just for this. Aren't you going to tell me what you want?"
Ghislain simply shrugged, not answering, and Claude grumbled.
"What do you want from me? Need some lessons in gambling?"
"To learn gambling, I'd go to someone who's good at it. I wouldn't learn from you."
"Damn it, can't argue with that. Just say what you have to say and get out of here. Why did you go through all this to find and save me?"
Ghislain sat up straight, meeting Claude's gaze.
"I don't like beating around the bush, so I'll get straight to the point. I want you to handle the administration of my estate."
Claude blinked in confusion, wondering if he'd misheard, then burst out laughing.
"Hahaha! You want a gambling addict and drunk like me to manage an estate?"
"Yes."
"Wow, I've been called crazy before, but you're something else. Are you joking? Do you even know who I am?"
"That's my proposal. Whether you accept it or not is your choice."
Ghislain took a sip of his drink, saying no more.
After a few more gulps, Claude finally spoke, a bit more seriously.
"I appreciate you saving me… but honestly, it was pointless. I don't want to do anything anymore."
"…"
"I've got nothing left. No dreams, no hopes."
Claude finished his glass, then continued.
"I used to have something I wanted to achieve. But there was nothing I could do to make it happen. Now I've lost my money, my health, my knowledge. Could there be anyone more worthless than me?"
Claude's gaze grew even more lifeless.
It was the look of a man who had lost everything and no longer cared about life.
"Sure, following you and managing an estate sounds great. I'd have a job… and a pretty high position at that. It's not something someone like me should reject."
"…"
"But I can't leave here. There's a shackle on my ankle that keeps me tied down. I'll live and die here. That's… all I can do."
"I'll break those shackles for you."
Ghislain, who had been silently listening to Claude's laments, stated this flatly.
At Ghislain's unhesitating attitude, Claude clenched his teeth.
"You must be young. That arrogance of thinking you can solve every problem in the world… you don't realize yet how toxic that can be."
Ghislain set down his glass and stared intently at Claude.
Despite his appearance, his gaze was deep and intense.
"I'll achieve what I want by any means. Even if it leads to my death. There's nothing else to think about."
Claude's face twisted with anger.
That fearless attitude reminded him too much of his past self, and he couldn't stand it.
"I used to be like that, too. But the result was nothing but misery. Fine. If I follow you, what can you offer me?"
"Name it."
"Money. I need a lot of money. An amount that would make even wealthy nobles flinch."
At that, Ghislain let out a slight laugh.
"Money? That's the easiest thing to solve. Is that all? Don't you need someone killed or something?"
"Don't be ridiculous."
Claude bit his lip.
Most problems could indeed be solved with money. If not, it was because there wasn't enough of it.
While true, the amount needed was usually staggering.
Claude's issue was the same—it could be solved with money, but the cost was exorbitant.
He couldn't believe it.
He couldn't trust it.
It had to be youthful bravado.
His rational mind was telling him that.
But, despite his logic, a strange desire flickered in Claude's eyes.
If a glimmer of light appeared before someone who had lost everything and fallen into the abyss, how would they react?
Even if it were fake, they'd likely reach out for it, just once.
Claude asked, a bit sarcastically.
"Baron Fenris, was it? You seem so confident; I guess your estate must be wealthy. But how rich could a baron really be? If you have so much money, lend me some. Or… would you buy me, considering how high my price is?"
Belinda, who had been eavesdropping from the next table, frowned.
They'd saved his life, bought him drinks, offered him a position managing the estate, and now he had the nerve to demand money!
And he even boasted that his "price" was high.
It was obvious what he'd do—swindle them out of money, then blow it all on booze and gambling.
Belinda thought Ghislain would reject him for sure.
Ghislain wasn't the type to be taken advantage of.
He'd managed to squeeze 20,000 gold coins from his fiancée; he wouldn't fall for such an obvious trick.
But Ghislain's answer was completely unexpected.
"Fine. I have even more money than you think. How much do you need?"
The young master, who wouldn't even give in to his father and vassals' constant requests for funds, was agreeing this easily?
'Is he just doing it as charity? Isn't this too much? Shouldn't I stop him?'
Belinda gulped down her drink, trying to calm her anger.
But what Ghislain said next shocked her even more.
"I need 2,000 gold. Can you give me that much? That's no small amount for a barony."
Belinda whipped her head toward them.
Ghislain wore an ambiguous expression.
It looked troubled, maybe even slightly pitying.
Seeing this, Claude openly sneered at him.
"What, were you expecting 20 gold? Do you think I haven't dealt with nobles full of bluff before? I can read you like a book; your mind is spinning, isn't it?"
Belinda could no longer hold back and stood up, yelling.
"Excuse me! Is this some kind of joke? I thought you'd ask for a few gold coins, but… How much? 2,000 gold?"
Since Ghislain had already made a bold claim, he couldn't back out without losing face.
Belinda raised her voice to give him an excuse to refuse.
But, much to her disbelief, Ghislain's response was completely unexpected.
"Just 2,000 gold, not 5,000? That's hardly anything."
[T/L: Please support me and read extra chapters here: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]