Chapter 2:
They Meet
HOW COULD CALE think about anything else while food was in front of him? He couldn’t even prevent a compliment from slipping out.
“Oh. It’s delicious.”
At his words, deputy butler Hans—who was standing off to the side—went stiff.
Cale was dining alone, so it was just the two of them in the room. A rather normal occurrence, given that the count’s family tended to eat meals other than breakfast at their leisure. Each member of the family had their own duties, after all; nobody said it was easy to be a noble. The upper class had strict schedules to follow, particularly those in government or politics. They’d have to drop everything the moment an order came from someone above them.
Deruth’s duties as lord of the region made him difficult to catch for a communal meal, while Cale’s younger siblings’ mealtimes were scheduled around their studies. The countess, meanwhile, was often busy interacting with the region’s influential households and engaging in various cultural enterprises.
Now that I think about it… Cale set his fork down with a clatter.
Hans was immediately on edge. That’s the Lord Cale I know! he thought. The deputy butler tensed, ready for Cale’s fork to fly at his face any moment—but Cale paid the nervous man no heed. He was lost in his own thoughts.
There are lots of dangerous specialists hidden among artists and craftspeople, Cale mused.
The Kingdom of Rowoon boasted fairly advanced architecture and art, especially sculpture. There was lots of marble in Rowoon, for starters. With the Henituses’ territory established as the fifth-best marble-mining region, they were raking in enormous profits.
Furthermore, a mountain range to the northwest took up most of the Henituses’ region. The mountains had rich and fertile soil, so residents grew grapes between the peaks. Although the vineyards yielded small quantities of wine, the resulting vintage was regarded as one of the best in the entire continent.
Yet Cale’s mind was far from the realm of artisans and vineyards, instead consumed with thoughts of powerful individuals. He had pondered the topic all day long in his study, brooding right through lunch.
Why are there so many “experts” in this stupid place? This isn’t even a martial arts franchise.
But it may as well have been, given how many fighters were lurking among everyday people. Thus, Cale made his resolution: Don’t mess with just anybody. An average-looking chef could be a poison expert. A repairman might viciously strangle people with his wires. That was just the sort of place this was.
Cale heaved a sigh. He’d just barely devised a plan to live peacefully and avoid dying in any kind of situation.
“Lord Cale?” Hans said warily.
Itching to sigh again, Cale turned to his attendant. “What?”
“Should I have them prepare you something else to eat instead?”
“Huh?” Cale’s brow wrinkled, eyes going wide.
Hans suppressed a groan. He’s going to flip the table! The deputy butler had no idea why the count had assigned him to look after Cale. He reined in his rising despair as he awaited Cale’s response.
And Cale did respond. “Why would you replace such a wonderful meal?”
“Pardon?”
Cale picked his fork back up, then cut into his steak. This dinner was even fancier than breakfast had been. He had never enjoyed such lavish meals as Kim Roksu, certainly, but even the original Cale would have found it extremely tasty. Kim Roksu wondered how this “Cale” bastard had come to take issue with anything less than extravagant, but he didn’t mind it. Since everyone knew the redhead’s character, they brought him only the very best.
He popped a piece of steak into his mouth. It was delectably juicy, with a perfect sear on all sides. “Hans, who made this meal?” he asked as he chewed, heedless of etiquette.
“Uh, Second Chef Vicross.”
Cale suddenly lost his appetite.
Vicross was Ron’s fastidious son. Unlike his father, who was an assassin, Vicross was an expert in bladework. He was also a neat freak. The man kept his weapon spotless and sharpened it daily, using it to decapitate his enemies.
He’s also an expert in torture.
In the novels, Vicross admired Choi Han’s sword skills and chose to follow him. Ron struck a deal with Choi Han, promising to help the hero if he could tag along for his son’s sake. While Ron might not show it, he cherished his son.
Cale glanced down at the medium-rare steak, pink and dripping with juices, and gulped a few times. I, for one, will not become an oozing hunk of meat.
He returned his gaze to Hans, who was still staring at him. “Well, it’s delicious,” Cale said, taking another bite. “Vicross is Ron’s son, right? I didn’t know he was such a talented chef.”
“I’ll pass on your compliments. I’m sure he’ll be very pleased to know you praised his cooking.”
“Will he now? Tell him I truly enjoyed this fantastic meal.”
Hans’s face went taut. “Yes, sir.”
Cale had made up his mind. He wasn’t going to mess with Vicross; he would do his utmost to make a good impression on Ron’s son. With that settled, he was able to relax and appreciate his dinner. Everything would work out once he helped Vicross bump into Choi Han and they left the region. Cale had already devised a plan to make that happen.
As he had at breakfast, the redhead completely cleaned his plate. He got up to leave, a satisfied smile on his face, then eyed the deputy butler at his heels.
“Hans, how did you end up suddenly assigned to me?”
Before dinner, Hans had mentioned that Deruth personally instructed him to wait on Cale. While Cale didn’t know what would become of the count’s family once Choi Han left—bringing Vicross and Ron along with him—he considered Hans exceptionally talented. Of all the deputy butlers, he probably had the best chance of becoming head butler.
“The count was concerned to hear that you worked all the way through lunch in the study,” Hans replied with a polite dip of his head. “He ordered me to oversee all matters relating to your meals.”
In short, Hans was responsible for Cale’s food.
“Really? That was unwarranted. I would’ve eaten just fine on my own,” Cale said. “Then again, I wouldn’t have realized it was time for dinner if you hadn’t come for me.”
He’d been busy writing out the fateful encounters in the first five volumes of the Birth of a Hero series in Korean.
On his way out of the dining room, Cale smiled at Hans. “Make sure I dine well, then.”
“Oh, uh, of course! I would be honored. I’ll do my utmost for you, my lord!” Hans stammered a bit as he answered, but Cale just let it be.
When Cale opened the door, he found Ron standing outside. Knitting his brow, he said, “Didn’t I tell you to go eat, Ron?”
Not wanting to see the old man’s face, Cale had sent him away—but he just wouldn’t leave. He stuck to the count’s son like glue. Annoyingly, he’d even waited by the door the whole time Cale was in the study.
“It is my duty to take care of you, young master.”
Seeing Ron smile benevolently at him, Cale clicked his tongue and threw a bit of a tantrum. “Enough! I don’t need anything, so go eat! Why won’t you leave for dinner, even when I tell you to? Don’t follow me! If you do, you know I’ll get angry!”
Cale glared daggers at Ron to reinforce his point, then stomped off toward the study. When he glanced back, Ron was standing stock-still with a stiff expression. Hans studied him a moment before sighing deeply.
Should I not have made a fuss? Cale wondered. The old assassin’s expression scared him, and he scurried back to the study.
His desk was completely empty. The document he’d been writing so diligently in Korean had already been burned in the fireplace—by Cale himself, that is. Nobody here knew Korean, but he still needed to be careful. He’d told all the servants not to enter the study without his permission.
I remember everything anyway.
Kim Roksu had always been good at memorizing things he liked. Comic books, novels, movies—as long as he enjoyed something, he remembered the characters’ names and appearances for years afterward. If he didn’t like something, he couldn’t recall a single detail for the life of him. Perhaps it would be different if he actually made an effort.
Cale leaned back in the study chair, mulling over what he needed to do moving forward. First, I need to meet Choi Han tomorrow.
The corners of his lips slowly rose.
Then I need to pick up a shield.
He had no intention of fighting tooth and nail for his long life, but there were a few things he needed to survive. First, he had to boost his defenses. Second, figure out a method of healing. Third, be faster than anybody else. Fourth, gain the strength to kill without hurting himself. And most importantly, he needed to avoid battlefields and any other places there might be bloodshed.
Satisfied, Cale thought about each of these so-called strategies as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
At least I won’t get beaten up when the time comes.
His best bet for extensive, intangible protection was the Unbreakable Shield. When he thought about that, his smile felt like it might never disappear.
Fateful encounters belonged to no one. They were first come, first served.