The Emperor’s punishment for Kuhn was vague. Although people were assigned to monitor his house arrest, the Emperor did not impose any further actions. Most nobles would have been grateful for the Emperor’s leniency and quietly accepted their confinement. However, Kuhn, ever suspicious, didn’t take things at face value.

He stayed cautious, refraining from moving outside his estate. He didn’t even visit the trading company, instead focusing on monitoring the situation around him.

Five days into his house arrest, an official from the Investigation Bureau visited his estate.

“They’re splitting tasks and sharing responsibilities?” Kuhn asked.

“Yes, my lord. Other than that, there’s nothing significant to report,” replied the official, a low-ranking civil servant with no access to critical information.

Kuhn had successfully recruited lower-level workers for his network. Nobles rarely saw commoners as competition, so they let their guard down around them. This allowed Kuhn to gather valuable insights about how the Investigation Bureau operated.

‘By dividing tasks this way, there are essentially two heads of operations. If they aren’t both directly under one superior, one of those positions must be mine. But who holds the other?’ Kuhn pondered.

Just as he was preparing to go out, he received another report.

“Someone from the palace visited the Black House.”

The Black House was often used by Dian, who sent errand boys there to deliver small gifts—delicious food, rare books—for his uncle.

“Was it the same person as before?”

“No, my lord. This was someone we hadn’t seen before.”

‘So it’s not Dian’s doing. Could it be the Emperor?’

As the sun set, two people exited through the back gate of Kuhn’s estate. Kuhn, venturing out for the first time in days, had been contacted by Olga, informing him that the requested information was ready.

‘It’s been a while,’ he thought as he entered the slums of the capital. Time seemed to stand still here. Although the slums changed hands frequently, no one had ever managed to fundamentally reform the area.

‘She’s more resourceful than I thought,’ Kuhn mused, thinking about Evita, the head of Olga. When he had first met her, he doubted whether she could truly seize control of the organization.

Recently, Olga had nearly monopolized the underworld. Evita led the organization differently from her predecessors, winning the support of her subordinates in the process.

‘But we’ll see how long she can last,’ Kuhn thought. The Raad family’s intelligence division had been keeping a close watch on Olga. According to the latest report, they rated Olga’s information-gathering abilities as “Upper-Lower,” the third tier out of nine—decent but not unassailable.

Kuhn’s intelligence division rated itself as “Upper-Upper,” the highest level, with the Emperor’s own intelligence service the only other group at the same tier.

Olga’s raw information-gathering ability was rated as “Mid-Mid,” but it was bumped up thanks to her unique access to information from the underworld. That’s why Kuhn had come to meet Evita today.

As he entered the slums, a guide swiftly appeared and led him deeper into the maze of narrow streets. The meeting place had become more opulent since his last visit. The floors were now laid with marble, and intricate tiles decorated the walls.

Noticing Kuhn’s interest in his surroundings, Evita gave an embarrassed smile. “We’ve had more customers who prefer a nicer meeting spot. It keeps them happy.”

“You’ve been dealing with nobles?” Kuhn asked.

“The number of noble clients has grown, yes.”

“What about the item I’m here for?” Kuhn inquired.

Evita signaled to one of her subordinates, who left the room and soon returned with an envelope. She placed it on the table in front of Kuhn.

“You know, we’ve been expanding our clientele. Nobles share all sorts of secrets, you know. Interested in hearing any?” Evita asked with a sly smile.

Kuhn smirked. “I probably know more about them than you do. If anything, you should be buying information from me.”

“That wouldn’t be the worst idea.”

“Do you even have anything worth offering? I don’t trade in information for money.”

“How about something related to the person in that envelope?”

“Wasn’t that the point of this investigation?”

“This is different information.”

“Let’s hear it first.”

Evita raised her chin defiantly. “Do you take me for a fool? If you’re not buying, then forget it.”

Kuhn observed her in silence for a moment before opening the envelope and scanning its contents.

His eyebrows twitched slightly. He had already suspected as much from the preliminary report his intelligence division had provided. Ben Stus was most likely a spy planted by the Red King or the Rimone Duke within the Silver King’s palace. But there was an unexpected twist.

‘So, he’s from the slums.’

Even when using lower-status individuals, there were limits. Imperial nobles rarely treated slum dwellers as people, much less hired them. Nobles wouldn’t even use them as house servants. Yet, the Red King had chosen someone from the slums.

The Red King probably didn’t see Stus’s talent as his primary asset—she had likely chosen him because his background made him easy to control. Still, it was a bold move.

‘If the Red King were the queen of a foreign nation, she would have taken over the country by now. Being born in the empire has been a limitation for her.’

Those who thought outside the box always had an edge. The Red King came from a noble family and was the mother of the Emperor’s sole heir, making her immensely powerful.

But the empire’s Shining Tree prevented anyone from challenging the Emperor’s authority. No one could directly threaten the Emperor’s absolute power, so the Red King had focused all her efforts on keeping the Silver King within her grasp.

‘But that’s no longer necessary now,’ Kuhn thought.

Sienna was coldly precise, knowing when to cut ties. If she deemed something unworthy, she wouldn’t let familial bonds stop her. By contrast, Dian was soft-hearted.

‘Once Sienna has this information, hmm...’ Kuhn thought.

The Red King’s situation would become even more precarious.

“What’s this other information you’re offering?” Kuhn asked, placing the papers back in the envelope. The report was thorough, so whatever Evita had was likely related but outside the scope of the initial investigation.

“Are you going to buy it?”

“You said you’d sell it. Changed your mind?”

Evita gave Kuhn a calculating look before shaking her head. “If you’re buying, I’ll sell. But what will you offer in return?”

“What do you want?”

“Information about you.”

“Me?” Kuhn raised an eyebrow.

"Marquis Raad."

Kuhn's tense expression eased slightly. If the information was limited to "Marquis Raad" and not "Kuhn Raad, head of the Raad family," then it wasn’t anything too crucial.

"What do you want to know?"

"Is Marquis Raad aiming for the position of Green King?"

"..."

"Recently, more and more nobles have been asking this question. Of course, it’s best to ask the person directly, since Olga doesn’t deal in uncertain information."

"I don’t know," Kuhn replied.

"How could you not know your own ambitions?" Evita teased.

"Because wanting something doesn’t make it so."

"So you do want it then? If I said ‘Marquis Raad is scheming to become the Green King,’ would that be an accurate description I could sell?"

Kuhn sighed.

"Since when did gossip turn into valuable information?"

"The nobles seem to think it’s worth something," Evita replied, smiling slyly. "If that’s a hard topic for you, I have another question. Is Marquis Raad bisexual?"

At that, Us, standing behind Kuhn, nearly choked on his own spit, coughing uncontrollably.

"They say you’ve been bouncing between the Iron King and the Silver King..." Evita started.

"No," Kuhn growled through clenched teeth.

"Then, perhaps the Marquis is carrying out a mission for the Iron King to seduce the Silver King with his body...?"

"I won’t dignify that nonsense with a response."

Evita continued her stream of provocative, seemingly baseless questions, which Kuhn chose to ignore. However, Us, who stood behind him, was listening with great interest. Being a frequent visitor to common markets, he hadn’t heard the high-society rumors before and found them oddly entertaining.

"Come on now," Evita continued, "you need to pay up if you want me to hand over the goods. Here’s a question you might like: Is the scandal between you and the Silver King real, or just a performance?"

Kuhn, growing increasingly annoyed, shot Evita a glare. He had done business with Olga several times, and now, seeing how bold Evita had become, he realized that she was starting to push her limits. The moment anyone in this line of work saw a crack, they would try to wedge themselves in deeper. Kuhn clicked his tongue.

Given that the job was done well today, he decided to let it slide. He wanted to get this over with and pass the information on. He cut the conversation short.

"It’s not a performance," he said bluntly.

"Oho, finally a clear answer. Can I sell that bit of information?" Evita asked gleefully.

"...Do whatever you want."

"Deal."

Evita, pleased with the outcome, scribbled a quick note and handed it to her subordinate.

"Add that to the list of things we’re selling."

"How much should we charge?" the subordinate asked, holding up two fingers to suggest a price.

"Well, since it’s verified by the Marquis himself, we can set a higher price."

"How about this amount?"

As Evita and her subordinate continued to casually discuss pricing, Kuhn, watching from across the table, slammed his hand down, causing them both to jump.

"Your hospitality is lacking. Enough with the chatter. What’s this related information you have?" Kuhn demanded.

"Someone’s in a hurry," Evita smirked but gestured that the side talk was over. "It’s nothing big enough to document. The Rimone Dukes recently bought information from us, mostly minor details about the residents of the southern Red Earth region. But the person who came to collect it was the same man from that document."

"Which part of the south?" Kuhn asked.

Evita narrowed down the area. Kuhn's thoughts immediately raced.

‘That’s part of the Silver King’s fief. Why would the Rimone family be gathering information there?’

Kuhn began connecting the dots between Stus and the Rimone family.

‘Could it be that the Rimone family was involved in grooming someone like Stus? Wait…’

He suddenly recalled the shadows that had followed the Silver King during his first covert mission. They had been trapped, and many of them were killed, but no one had ever figured out their exact identity. It was as if they had simply materialized from nowhere.

‘Were they from the slums too?’

The most troubling thing was that he couldn’t estimate the full extent of their numbers. They were like walking weapons—highly dangerous.

Kuhn hated the idea of sacrificing his own men just to strike first. To him, losing one ally to eliminate ten enemies was a failure, not a success.

‘If I could just get a rough estimate of their numbers…’

That would make preparing a defense far easier.

"Take care, and come back soon," Evita chirped after Kuhn and Us as they left. As soon as the door closed behind them, the smile disappeared from her face. She crossed her arms, deep in thought.

"He’s stiff, but clients like him are hard to find, aren’t they?" she said.

The sharp-faced man who had been standing beside her nodded.

Dealing with noble clients had taught Evita just how arrogant and self-important they could be. They were even more cutthroat than the street merchants she had once dealt with. Only about one in three paid fairly for the goods or services they received. Most either looked down on her or found the idea of dealing with someone of lower status offensive.

Evita had tested Kuhn earlier, and when she had asked if he would buy the related information, she had half-expected him to react poorly, perhaps even try to bully her for it. But, despite this being far from their first transaction, it was clear that Kuhn wasn’t like the other nobles she dealt with.

"So, you’re still against my decision?" she asked the sharp-faced man. "We’re businesspeople. Securing reliable clients is important. We’re not here to make a quick profit."

The man remained silent, though his lack of argument implied agreement. He had been the most vocal opponent of Evita’s decision.

Evita had recently stumbled upon a critical piece of information—a key vulnerability of the Raad family. She considered it pure luck, though luck had found her before. Finding Jeffrey, who had a bounty on his head from the Raad family, had also been a matter of luck, and that information had revived Olga’s fortunes.

Evita had consulted her inner circle about how to handle the latest piece of intelligence. Buyers were already lining up for it. Their opinions had split into two camps: one side wanted to sell it back to the Raad family, while the other wanted to sell it to the highest bidder, capitalizing on the opportunity to make a fortune.

Evita had favored selling it back to the Raad family, while the sharp-faced man had pushed for a broader sale.

"Still, we can’t go burning bridges with valuable clients like them," Evita continued.

"We’d be cutting ties for good if we sold it elsewhere," the man acknowledged.

"Exactly. That’s why they’re worth holding on to."

"But maybe we shouldn’t rush into selling it back. If we’re not making a profit, it’s better to hold onto it as leverage."

"You’re right. We’ll hold off for now."

For the time being, the sensitive information about the Raad family will remain sealed.


<PREVIOUS | NEXT>

Previous
Next