Chapter 4.
“Well, if that’s how it is.”
Richard, noticing nothing at all, turned around with a not-so-bad expression on his face.
He had dumped his responsibilities onto a younger sister far below him in age, yet his shameless face showed not the slightest prick of conscience.
The same grayish-blue hair and blue eyes as Viscount Sache.
That lazy attitude and the constant look of sniveling cowardice were things I hated every time I saw them, but I hid my disgust well.
All the counterfeit bills I possessed were ones I had quietly pilfered little by little from our family’s underground counterfeiting workshop.
*“According to the novel, the Third Prince Iares works with the Imperial Treasury to develop counterfeit-detection techniques the year I turn nineteen.”*
For now, the very concept of counterfeit money doesn’t even exist.
Originally, Father strictly ordered Richard never to use counterfeit money, no matter how short on funds he was.
It was made beneath the mansion, yes—but the people who used that money were always others.
That was how the Sache family had managed to escape the law’s grasp for generations.
At least until the idiot Richard became the official head of the house.
*“After that, my violent brothers rebelled.”*
Accusations and exposés followed one after another.
In the end, Richard died miserably on the execution platform, and the family was torn apart.
In the original story, Villiette—being second only to Richard in stupidity—had nothing prepared, and thus ended up in a convent.
*But the ‘me’ right now is not like that.*
Those accusations and exposés in the original—there’s no reason *I* can’t pull them off.
All that matters is that *I* survive.
If luck is on my side, I might even be able to drag Richard into ruin during this New Year’s Festival…
But just then—
“Hey, doll!”
Smack!
Right as I heard the brisk footsteps, my hair was yanked hard.
I’d expected this, so I quickly prepared and cried out loudly, “Ow!”
In an instant, I switched to the mask of a completely different personality from the one I used with Richard.
“I told you to stop yanking my hair, Blaine!”
“Oh? The doll’s getting mad?”
“Anyone would get mad!”
The brat tugging my hair with his nasty prank was Blaine Sache.
With milk-white skin and reddish-brown hair, he looked like a fluffy fox.
Flippant, delinquent, hot-tempered—
A bouquet made entirely of things I hated… my little brother.
But contrary to his appearance, Blaine had perfect instantaneous recall.
And of all places, he used that talent for gambling.
That’s why the viscount cherished him deeply.
“Oh, huh. Richard’s here too?”
“Blaine Sache. Show some proper respect.”
“Ugh, annoying. If I’d known Richard was here, I wouldn’t have come home.”
Grind.
Richard, being ignored, gnashed his teeth.
But Blaine simply whistled and pretended not to notice.
From the beginning, Blaine had never once considered Richard his brother.
Just like he didn’t consider *me* his sister.
Blaine, with his oversized pride, refused to acknowledge anyone he found pathetic.
Though, there *was* one man even Blaine acknowledged—
The second son of the Sache family.
Though called the second son for convenience, he was the same age as Richard: Amon Sache.
If Richard worked in the daylight, Amon operated thoroughly in the shadows.
He handled the underworld affairs in place of the viscount, so seeing him was rare.
I found Amon uncomfortable, so usually I was glad when he wasn’t around.
*He stares at me as if he sees right through my acting.*
That bothered me enough that I avoided him whenever possible… but of all days, today he wasn’t here.
Yet I needed Amon to buy recovery potions.
“Anyway, I’m taking Villiette with me.”
“Blaine Sache!”
“If you’ve got a problem, come at me.”
Blaine, being unbearably irritating, grabbed my wrist and pulled.
It honestly hurt a little, but I didn’t show it.
Even if I said it hurt, nobody ever cared.
No one in this house had any interest in my pain.
They just used me to satisfy themselves.
“Hey.”
Dragging me outside, Blaine looked around, making sure no one was there.
Even then, as if still not satisfied, he narrowed his eyes and whispered to me:
“That thing from before—Amon already received the payment for it.”
“Wow, really?”
“You’d better be grateful. I hyped it up so he’d pay more.”
I smiled meekly at the bragging Blaine.
“Thank you. I wish I could treat you to something.”
“Forget it. What could someone like you buy?”
He dismissed me as easily as breathing, but astonishingly, this was Blaine’s version of “treating me well.”
I knew exactly what happened when he *didn’t* treat me well.
At first, he looked at me like I was an insect.
The only reason this small positive change existed was because I had bent over backwards to match myself to him.
“Richard, that idiot’s here now, so Father’s going to be distracted today. You’re planning to go down there during the opening, right?”
Blaine looked at me meaningfully as he asked.
I lifted the corners of my lips gently.
“Of course.”
The underground beneath the mansion.
And deeper underground—my secret workshop.
A place the three of us—Amon, Blaine, and thirteen-year-old me—discovered together one day.
A place neither the viscount nor Richard knew existed.
There, I made and sold a very special perfume.
A perfume that *showed illusions.*
“Oh, right. Amon’s coming soon too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. If you wait down there, he’ll probably show up. Not sure when, though.”
…Is Helios okay right now?
It should be fine to step out briefly, right?
*Amon gets stabbed a lot, so he always carries two or three recovery potions. If I ask, I should be able to buy one.*
If I got that, Helios’s fever would go down quickly.
After a moment of hesitation, I decided to head underground.
I had to return before the viscount noticed I was gone, so I didn’t have time to go check on Helios again.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
Blaine, who’d gone on ahead without waiting, returned looking frustrated and grabbed my shoulder.
“Hurry up!”
“Okay—!”
CRASH!
It all happened in an instant.
The moment I noticed someone on the landing, I shoved Blaine hard.
He hadn’t even imagined I would push him, so he staggered back several steps—and in that exact instant, a flowerpot heavy enough to crush a skull fell from above.
“What the hell?! Who the hell did that?!”
While the stunned Blaine screamed hysterically, I looked coldly at the broken pieces.
*Ah. Things had been quiet for a while—so it starts again.*
Have I mentioned it?
That the Sache family originally had well over ten siblings?
After I was adopted, I learned exactly one thing—
**If you let your guard down, children die. Anytime.**
Yes, this damn novel had survival difficulty ranked among the absolute worst.
—
—
I felt uneasy, but the flowerpot incident was concluded as the mistake of a new servant.
Blaine raged wildly, but it wouldn’t matter.
That had likely been the viscount’s test.
For me, flowerpots falling was so common that it barely surprised me anymore.
Since I was still young, I left the foaming-at-the-mouth Blaine behind, went to the kitchen, grabbed some snacks, and finally headed underground.
*Viscount Sache was definitely ahead of his time.*
When he built this house, he made a double blueprint from the start.
Then he used his workers to secretly dig out a second and third basement level without anyone knowing.
Of course, it was all to carry out illegal activities.
*A criminal as meticulous as they come.*
