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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: A Month's Wager
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"...One month?"
My confident words drew a frown from Father's eyes. He must have taken it as mockery.
"...I despise those who shirk effort. But I also keep no one around who makes empty boasts of the impossible. Are you truly prepared to take responsibility for your words?"
The gaze Father fixed on me wasn't that of a father looking at his son, but of Bacchus, lord of the Shield Family, scrutinizing a subordinate. It demanded an answer.
In other words, it was a probing question laced with warning: Could I really follow through?
Yet that warning fell flat as I nodded lightly. No, I went even further.
"Of course. If I fail to master this book in a month, I'll withdraw from the succession contest myself."
Father's eyes widened slightly at my words, but they soon returned to their usual calm composure.
"I never knew you were aiming for the heir's seat. Very well, then. No more words from me. Show me your resolve."
With that, Father resumed polishing his armor. It was a dismissal.
Leaving him behind, I stepped out the door. If I wanted to change my fate, I had to act accordingly. There was much to begin anew.
"Am I imagining it? The Third Young Master seemed a bit different from usual..."
From the corner of the study, a knight who had silently observed the exchange spoke up cautiously from behind Bacchus.
Unlike Bacchus's massive frame, this middle-aged man was small and slight, his body all but hidden by the shield strapped to his back.
This was Arandal, leader of the Shield Family's proud Six Shields.
"You sensed it too? The boy who used to tremble like he might wet himself at my slightest word—what wind blew into him today?"
"It's a good change. He said his piece and left, didn't he? Even made a wager with the lord."
"Hmph. A wager with empty talk like that? Mastering the Territory Management Theory in a month? As if that's remotely possible."
"Of course it's impossible in a month. But at least he's not drowning in booze and gambling every day anymore—that's something, isn't it?"
"Tch. You don't even care that he wagered his claim to the succession?"
"If I may be so bold, in my view, the Third Young Master inheriting the family..."
"Enough, enough. What a guy."
Bacchus waved off Arandal's words. He didn't believe for a second that Jerome could become heir. His eldest son and daughter were simply too talented.
Either one could capably lead the family in his stead, but the problem was there were two of them.
With those two prodigies already giving him headaches, Bacchus figured as long as his deficient youngest could support his siblings well enough, he'd count his blessings.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Back in my room, clutching the Territory Management Theory in my right hand, I first examined my body.
Before learning Heterogenous Powers, it was a frail shell that would drop dead from a single poke—so what was there to inspect? But years in the resistance had turned it into habit.
'Well, as expected, no major changes in this pathetic... Huh?'
This body shouldn't have anything inside, even with introspection, lacking Heterogenous Powers as it did. Yet there was some alien energy.
Different from Heterogenous Powers—something warm yet destructive. I knew this energy. It was the aura I'd only awakened to in my past life, after practicing the 'Earth' aura cultivation method.
'No way... Aura? Why is there aura in my body now, before I've even started cultivating?'
As questions flooded my mind, Bori burst into my room with an anxious look.
"Third Young Master! H-how did it go? Did the lord scold you badly?"
Bori seemed worried I'd been threshed like wheat in a mill by Father.
"I'm fine, Bori. Thanks for worrying."
"Mercy me. The Third Young Master suddenly talking all grown-up. Did the lord order you confined? Or maybe disowned from the family...?"
...I wasn't sure if a bit of drinking warranted such dire punishment.
"Nothing like that, Bori. Father just told me to study this book. It's called the Territory Management Theory..."
I held out the book and explained what happened. Bori's eyes bulged like saucers.
"Heavens! If you don't finish the Territory Management Theory in a month, you're out of the succession?"
"Yeah. But don't worry too..."
Before I could finish, Bori collapsed to the floor, wailing.
"Oh no, oh no! Our Third Young Master is about to get kicked out of the family. Whatever shall we do?"
I'd only said a month because I had a way. I hadn't expected Bori to fret this much over me.
A pang of needless guilt hit me.
"Bori, actually, I can handle this book..."
"What if the Third Young Master gets cast out? I'll lose my job too."
"...This book..."
"Oh no, oh no."
"...Forget it. Just get my bag. I have a plan, so no worries."
"Pardon? Are you going out?"
"Yeah. Got somewhere to be."
"Where to at a time like this? You should be studying every second..."
Bori glared at me and shrieked, but I didn't flinch.
"Where else does a gambler who just lost his money go but the casino?"
Hearing that, Bori finally clutched her neck and toppled over.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The Banten Territory was famous for two things.
First, its lineage as a prestigious house loyal to the royal family for generations.
This generation especially (myself excluded), with all siblings displaying exceptional talent, making it even more renowned.
The second was my current destination.
Shaking off Bori clinging to my pant leg, I rode for an hour and arrived at a place glowing brightly despite the late hour.
The Banten Territory's greatest attraction: the casino.
Casino.
A place where human madness, obsession, joy, and sorrow laid bare like nowhere else.
Here, high or low birth meant nothing—dice or cards decided fortunes.
My sudden trip to the casino had a simple reason.
Its manager, Hans, possessed a treasure that could help me master Heterogenous Powers more efficiently.
Not prepared for me, of course, but for his own safety.
'That's none of my concern.'
I had no qualms exploiting him. He was useless to the family.
In my past life, Hans had lorded over this casino until the family's fall.
I, barely surviving the war, learned why only later.
Hans was exceptionally capable as an operator, and crucially, he steadily offered tribute to one of the family's powerhouses.
Father was too exalted to manage a mere casino himself, so one of his confidants oversaw it.
That 'confidant' grew stronger thanks to Hans's treasures.
Hans enjoyed stability under the 'confidant's' protection.
A symbiotic parasite-host relationship, like crocodile and plover.
Eventually, after Father's death, as conflict over succession between my brother and sister peaked, the 'confidant' betrayed the family.
He defected to the Empire, leveraging the power from those tributes, and lived luxuriously ever after.
I'd supported the resistance and sniped him eventually, but just thinking about it spiked my blood pressure.
'This time, not a single grain of wheat goes to you.'
The treasure was definitely with Hans now.
Next spring, that confidant had bragged about his advancement, crediting 'luckily' acquiring it.
No way he'd obtained it overnight.
Given Hans's sly nature, he wouldn't hand over tribute every time one appeared.
'Wait for me.'
Hans was merely my first stepping stone. And that 'confidant'... I'd make him pay later, I vowed.
I entered the casino slowly.
De-gurururur!
Dice rolled, then stilled.
A paper cup held three six-sided dice, surrounded by bloodshot eyes murmuring bets.
"Odd!"
"Even!"
Their soul-deep cries ended.
The cup lifted.
One, three, six.
Odd.
"Arrrgh, fuck!!"
"Yeehaw!! Black cow's here!!"
Shaking my head at their joys and sorrows, I moved deeper.
'Dice games are no good. Too many variables.'
Some claimed high knights or mages could discern odd or even from friction sounds alone. But that was far from my world.
I wasn't even sure it was possible.
Hans wasn't some pushover thug, even if just a 'confidant's' lackey.
If he were ordinary, he'd have crumbled before the casino's temptations long ago.
Yet he'd run it flawlessly, providing tribute and profits without fail. He possessed ironclad self-control.
Even now, years in, the family had no complaints.
I couldn't stake my life on luck-based games to rob such a man.
'Let's see, it should be around here...'
If memory served, nearby.
How far in had I gone?
Chyarururur!!
Gaudy machines whirred everywhere.
People before them stared transfixed, as if facing mortal foes.
A man beside my path hammered buttons with fervor.
Click by click, the reels slowed, then stopped.
Pop!
Bear.
Pop!
Bear.
Pop!
...Lion.
"Arrrgh!! Damn it, insane!! Shit!!"
The man bellowed as the lion hit, but smashing the machine? Not a chance.
This was the Carviot Count Family's—kingdom powerhouse—casino.
No one dared riot here.
Instead, eyes bloodshot, he fed in another silver.
"No."
"What?! Why not? It's within the entry fee!"
"Slot machines allow three plays per person, except retries on wins."
"Fuck...!!"
He spat curses, helpless. Guts half out, he couldn't afford to cause a scene.
'The rules are still the same.'
The slot machine I'd sought was a novel device Hans proposed for efficient management, adopted by the family.
In my youth(?), I'd lost a fortune to it.
Early on, the family strictly limited plays to three per person, excluding winner retries.
'Easy access could breed worse issues. Regulate plays strictly until settled.' That was the official line.
Truth was, Hans rigged patterns unreadable.
Later, patterns emerged—but Hans had swapped them by then.
Now, freshly introduced, patterns varied per machine, limited plays. Near impossible for others to crack.
Retries were nominal.
For 'others,' that is.
As turns cycled and the first man argued with guards, I watched the reels spin.
Then sat at his machine and pressed the button slowly.
Chyarururur!!
The machine whirled madly.
Carefully, I pressed each button.
Reels halted one by one.
Pop!
Dragon.
Pop!
Dragon.
Pop!
Dragon.
"...!!!"
Not just the arguing man and guard—passersby gawked at my jackpot symbols.
-Kraaaaaargh!!
The machine's deafening dragon roar snapped them back, shouts erupting.
"J-Jackpot!!"
"No way! Triple dragon—first time seeing it!"
Indeed.
What was there to hide?
In my youth, I'd poured fortunes into this slot machine.
By the time I barely grasped the pattern, Hans changed it, leaving me weeping blood without a win.
'This time will be different.'
Up to yesterday's drunken blackout was the same.
But who loses money today? We'd see.
Life's wheel had turned full circle.
Harvest season had arrived.