Chapter 11
Purely because of my looks, the thug bared her teeth at me.
“What’s this bitch now?”
“……”
It must be my imagination that she’s only just now noticing me, even though I’ve been stuck to Evelyne’s side all this time.
Yeah, sure. Just my imagination. Because if she’s actually saying she’s been treating Latte—who, as a supporting character, still has about ten times more importance than a random thug—as if I were invisible all this time… well, that would just break my heart.
But the thug went ahead and stabbed me right in the chest.
“Didn’t even know you existed, and now you’re acting up.”
Aaaargh!
That wench—no, that bitch! With a face like she could rule the entire back alley!
After I went out of my way to save her life, this is how ungrateful she acts? My heart couldn’t have hurt more.
Who does she think helped her dodge a death flag?
I stopped the terrible future where she would’ve been smacked by the heroine and killed on the spot, and she has the gall to spit out such thankless words?
I glared at her in outrage—though the brim of my hat probably hid most of it.
Of course, I hadn’t stopped this situation for her life.
Who cares if someone like that lives or dies?
No, I stepped in because I’d made up my mind to get on Eveline’s good side. And if she got beaten up while I just stood around watching, well—who would want to be friends with someone like that? Naturally, I had no choice but to step in.
“Oh, you’ve both lost your damn minds, huh? So, you’re saying you’ll take the beating instead?”
Yeah, no. That was definitely not what I meant.
What am I, crazy? Take a beating in her place? You’re joking, right?
But apparently she wasn’t joking—because she clenched her fist.
Hold on. Why is she giving Eveline a slap but me a punch? That’s discrimination.
As I watched that fist curl up tight and start to rise, I knew the moment of choice had arrived.
I couldn’t just sit around waiting for Arwin to show up. At this rate, I was about to bid farewell to my precious nose bridge and cheekbones.
Sure, I imagined a scenario where, just before that weapon-like fist smashed my beautiful face, a cool voice would go, “Wait!”—but realistically, it was ten times more likely that I’d get turned into a bloody pulp first, and then a savior would appear when Evelyn got attacked again.
Ha. Not happening. Absolutely opposed to a “supporting character beaten to a pulp” ending.
Well, no choice then. I’d have to give up on seeing Arwin’s face and use it.
With my resolve set, I shouted at the top of my lungs, “TIME!”
The thug paused mid-motion, looking at me like, “What kind of clown show is this?”—which gave me just enough time to yank Evelyn behind me.
Couldn’t have her getting caught in the blast when I used it.
Eveyin, wide-eyed at the sudden turn of events, let me pull her without protest.
The thug seemed amused by the protective stance I’d taken, letting out a mocking snicker.
Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. You’re finished now. Nobody can stop me from here on out.
I made sure the whole group of thugs was in front of me, then reached into my coat. My hand came out holding a familiar piece of paper.
But before I used it, I had one thing to say.
“Hey, muscle-bound hag, you know what?”
“…Muscle… what?”
“There’s nothing in this world that money can’t do!!”
I roared my battle cry and ripped the paper in two.
Riiip!
With a satisfying sound, a sudden wind began to blow.
Lord, please grant me permission to use my righteous power of throwing money at problems today. Go, Magical☆Cash☆Power!
The breeze that barely rustled my and Eveline’s clothes turned into a vicious gale the moment it reached the thugs.
Whooooosh!
The howling wind was followed by a harmonious chorus of screams.
Like sausages on a string, they all went flying together, suspended in the air by the storm.
“Gyaaaah!”
“Waaaah!”
One by one, with colorful cries, they hit the ground in the distance—thud, thud.
Watching the scene, Evelyn murmured in a dazed voice,
“…Magic?”
Correct!
Just as she’d guessed, the wind was the power of magic. The paper I’d ripped was no ordinary scrap—it was a magic scroll. A very expensive one, worth dozens of gold coins each.
I straightened my back in triumph at the glorious sight of total thug annihilation.
Hahaha, pathetic fools.
This was exactly what Book had been curious about—what I spent my money on. Most of my earnings went into buying these scrolls.
The thrill of feeling like a mage with just a single sheet of paper was incomparable, and ever since I first came across them by chance, I’d fixed my one luxury item.
At the specialty shop for scrolls, I wasn’t just a valued customer—I was a super valued customer.
Whenever stress piled too high or life just felt unbearably boring, I’d go there and spend money like water.
With my astronomical royalty income, I could afford it.
Still, I never thought I’d have to use one here.
Since Arwin’s appearance had been a set “event” in the original story, this development never even crossed my mind.
Seriously, where is that guy? Fish No. 3, where the hell are you…
While I was mulling over Arwin’s absence from the original plot, Evelyn asked hesitantly,
“Um, Latte? Just now… what on earth was that…?”
Her unfinished question jolted me back to the moment, and I quickly thought about how to answer.
I couldn’t exactly tell her I walked around with a stash of ridiculously expensive scrolls and blew them whenever I felt like it.
So I rolled my eyes like I was thinking, and then said,
“It was a self-defense magic scroll I got as a birthday present last year. I always carry it just in case, but I didn’t think I’d actually have to use it.”
“Ah.”
Evelyn nodded as if satisfied, then suddenly bent at the waist to bow.
Startled, I looked at her, and she smiled under her hood.
“Thanks to you, I’m safe. You’re my savior, Latte.”
“Uh… well, then we’re each other’s saviors, huh?”
“Oh my, I suppose so?”
Evelyn covered her mouth with her hand and laughed softly.
I read goodwill in that smile and silently cheered.
What a nice bonus.
It seemed saving her from danger—granted, I’d been in danger too—had earned me her favor.
Makes sense. Who hates the person who saved them, unless they’re twisted?
Beaming, I looked at her, satisfied.
So this is how I dodge the “Kenneth-kills-me” route. Excellent.
And it was all thanks to me twisting the original plot and Arwin failing to show up—though I still had no idea why.
Arwin, much obliged.
The fact that the plot had veered off a little didn’t bother me.
Even if the start was different, Arwin would still end up in Eveline’s fishing pond sooner or later. That’s just how the novel went.
Proving the city’s absurd budget allocation—luxury welfare but terrible public safety—no guards showed up despite the chaos.
With leisurely steps, I went to retrieve the gold from the thugs and suggested to Evelyn that we go get something to eat.
She readily agreed from behind me.
As I picked up the precious 10-gold coin, I pondered what we should have for lunch.
A handsome man took in the alley scene at a glance, idly stroking his chin.
The man was floating in the air. Sitting cross-legged as if perfectly at ease, his silver hair looked like it had been spun from celestial threads.
His crimson eyes, naturally drawing attention, turned toward a hooded woman.
“Hm.”
After a moment’s thought, he snapped his fingers. A gust of wind blew some distance away, knocking back the woman’s hood.
Silken blue-black hair whipped in the air, revealing a face framed by blinking green eyes—an unusually beautiful woman.
The man’s lips curved faintly.
Not bad.
He stared, as if to etch her face into memory. She had stood out to him even when she’d handed a gold coin to a penniless child.
The only reason he hadn’t stepped in when she was in danger was because he had something to confirm.
Her companion—the other woman in the hat—radiated a familiar mana.
To confirm his suspicion, he’d refrained from interfering, though he’d been ready to act if the woman got hurt.
The companion had made the wise choice.
If she’d let the thug slap the woman, she would’ve been beheaded alongside the thug.
As he suspected, the mana belonged to a scroll issued from his own Magic Tower.
Judging by the amount of mana he sensed, she had more than one. Considering the price, that was impressive.
Probably the daughter of some great magnate.
Though her clothes were plain, the stash of costly scrolls briefly caught his interest—but only briefly.
With his main curiosity satisfied, he lost interest in the companion.
What remained was his interest in the woman whose face he had just seen.
His eyes crinkled with amusement. He’d come out on an errand, but it seemed he’d gotten an unexpected reward.
After committing her face to memory a little longer, the man vanished from the air—without a trace, as if he had never been there at all.
Just yesterday, I’d resolved to stick to Evelyn like glue until I met Arwin—since I’d already seen londmio and Kenneth, but not the last of the trio.
After all, Evelyn, who ran her “fish pond” on a policy of equal distribution, had to have something with all three male leads in order. She would inevitably meet Arwin before reuniting with the crown prince.
That was the plan—until, surprise, she’d already met him. And without me there.
“I’d just parted ways with Latte and was heading back to the mansion, when I remembered something—I’d left my hairpin behind.”
On the day of the thug incident, Evelyn and I had eaten together and browsed the streets, then gone our separate ways before sunset.
I’d gone home, bathed, and gone to bed early. The next morning, I’d gone straight to the count’s mansion where she was staying.
And over tea in the drawing room, this is what she told me.
The heroine, after sending the supporting character home, suddenly remembered she’d left the hairpin she’d bought at the shop.
On her way back to retrieve it, she happened to get pickpocketed and lose her purse—only for Male Lead No. 3, who happened to be nearby, to gallantly retrieve it for her.
“……”
I was devastated.
Did it really have to be a private meeting, just the two of you? Would it have killed you to let me, the decorative background prop, be there too?
The lingering bitterness was more acrid than the dregs of my tea.
Of the three male leads, I’d most looked forward to seeing Arwin. Which is why the disappointment stung so much.
The guy with an angelic face of pure innocence—who, behind the smile, kills without hesitation.
I was dying to know what that pretty psychopath looked like. A man who could smile as he slit someone’s throat—just what kind of face is that?
I recalled Arwin’s dazzling feats described in the original side stories.
When he first gained the surname “Hebrim,” marking him as the owner of the Magic Tower, there’d been a huge uproar in opposition.
Understandable—an unknown kid from the slums had suddenly skipped over a long-time, well-respected candidate, an elderly archmage, to claim the title.
Of course there’d be backlash.
And yet, with that delicate, harmless face that looked incapable of killing an ant, he slaughtered the mocking crowd—those who’d dared compare him to an ant—right where they sat.
