Edited by: bafflinghaze
Unlike many of the regions in the Rhine Empire, the Benedick Marquisdom wasn’t very rich in land or lumber. Their soil wasn’t fertile, and they could not rely on agriculture to feed their citizens.
Instead, they thrived through other means.
It may have been due to good fortune, but the Benedick Family, who descended from a long line of merchants, originally amassed their influence from trade.
Ironically, an occupation once looked down upon later became a core power of the Empire.
Their riches grew and the people under the Marquis Family prospered through the various mines within their territory.
The Empire’s jewel trade belonged to them solely and no one else. With the jewel trade came craftsmen in need of materials for their work. Soon, many other types of artisans turned their eyes to the only region with so much wealth beneath its feet and set up shop.
In time, the Benedick Family’s monopoly on the luxury market developed throughout the Western Lands, which in turn created power and leverage in society, which then, resulted in a further monopoly on the trade schools.
Craftsmen Institutes built themselves overnight within their territory, and the ones who received the greater bargain were the Marquis Family, for even if the schools were scattered across the territory, the Benedicks partnered with these schools solely to poach students.
With unlimited resources (courtesy of the Marquis Family and their millions of mines), a potential future for a respectable career, a rise in status, and even the promise of being masters in a craft, these desirable benefits made the acceptance rate of the Craftsmen Institutes even lower than the Noble Academy.
Students needed to be prepared for a competitive student body, and expulsions were a common occurrence.
After all, the schools had to hold true to their motto:
Quantity never mattered when in search of quality for the sake of luxury.
“But who the fuck is Leroy Pierrot?!”
At present, however, these same schools—known to look down on the lacking and unqualified are now frantically searching the archives for the identity of one Leroy Pierrot—the mysterious up-and-coming Master Jeweler.
Either way, it was useless to continue looking for Pierrot’s identity. Whatever plans these Craftsmen Institutes had for the Master Jeweler, it was too late to stop him from establishing himself within the Empire’s luxury market.
Today was the day for the grand opening of Khartier.
—
A crowd of people stood in front of a plain-looking shop, waiting for the owner to open its doors.
On top of the shop, written in large, black bold letters, was the name Khartier, the new jewelry house in the famous Carnelian Street of Leisure City.
This was the Capital of Luxury for the rich, the powerful, the collectors, and the eccentric.
It was also the pride and joy of the Benedick Legacy.
The shop stood out, but not necessarily in a good way. Compared to the sparkling and grand jewelry houses lining the street, it was homely.
“This looks like a bookstore,” someone finally said. This person didn’t give two shits, but the crowd appreciated their honesty, for they also thought the shop looked like a bookstore.
Merchants and influential nobles of all classes have been invited to attend the grand opening of Khartier. Re-examining the beautifully embellished invitations delivered to them by carrier pigeons a week ago, they were all deeply confused once they saw the store.
Surely, with Master Pierrot’s fine and elegant taste, his store would also look just as refined as his works.
But they were disappointed to see this was not so.
Though no one had seen his face, many jewelers all over the Empire have proclaimed Master Pierrot to be the leading designer of the next generation.
He seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Those with connections tried their best to investigate his identity, but they couldn’t find a single thing about the man. It was like he didn’t exist until three months ago.
Three months ago, exactly from today, Master Pierrot released his masterpieces into the market and all were quickly sold within the span of a few weeks.
His designs were revolutionary and ahead of his time. No one had seen such splendid contemporary designs in years. Nobles who influenced the fashion circle were interested in making contact, while merchants desired contracts and partnerships.
No one was surprised to see Pierrot open his shop within such a short span of time. Everyone wanted a piece of him, fully aware of his potential.
The clock tower at the center of the city rang its bells. The sound echoed through the streets.
At exactly noon, Khartier opened its doors to the public.
—
Royce slipped between the large crowd and tugged his flat cap further down to obscure his face.
His shop was minimalistic and chic.
It did not look like a bookstore.
Regardless, at least the invitees stayed.
He had a hundred invitations for the opening ceremony delivered to the most important people in the Empire sans the Royal Family. He noticed some people brought a partner with them, but just this once, he’d let it slide.
There were always hidden potentials and sponsors for these occasions. Royce should know.
During his early apprenticeship days, his mentor built his charisma by dragging him to all types of galas and ceremonies. If he was able to get three sponsors and ten people interested in his work, she would allow him to go home to see his family for three days.
If he didn’t make the quota, he would be on customized ring-making duty for three weeks.
He was a literal hostage, yet he still paid her to teach him for five years straight because she was the best of the best.
The thought of his teacher’s demonic face as she dragged him through his apprenticeship like the fires of hell were biting at their ankles made him give an involuntary shudder.
Bong! Bong! Bong!
The clock tower signaled that it was noon just as Royce unlocked the door and opened it wide.
—
The people at the door stepped into the store cautiously, their whispers becoming louder and filled with surprise as they looked around.
Among them, Neo tried not to make a face as he stared at the interior.
He felt like he had been transported back to the Modern World. Just slap on some metal walls, glass panels, and change the scent to antiseptic and hand sanitizer, and he would have thought this was also his lab facility.
Royce’s shop reminded him of a minimalistic art gallery. White light pearls on the ceiling and white walls made the space even bigger. The wooden floors had a sort of hollowness that resulted in echoing footsteps.
There were many display cases with jewelry. They were all sparkling under the light and depending on the theme of each display, the jewels were organized in a way to fit these themes.
Poison Pear Princess.
Wolf in Red Cloak.
Sleeping Tower.
Three Blonde Bears.
Badly plagiarized names of common fairy tales and their respective jewelry inspired by them went on one side.
Man of Iron.
Captain of the New World
Eye of Hawk.
The Widow in Black.
Thunder Warrior.
The Green Man.
It was clear Royce had taken inspiration from Murvel for those pieces displayed grandly in front of another wall.
From beside him, Tybalt let out a low whistle.
“It looks nice,” he quipped, his tone giving the impression that he was familiar with standing in a room full of expensive shit that would all be worth more than his life.
On the other hand, Finneas wore a huge scowl on his face as he stared uneasily at the glass displays.
He was unused to impractical luxuries. The Dagons commonly hoarded magical tools and artifacts. For him, the closest version of expensive jewels was magic stones, and unlike ordinary gems, they were harder to break and less likely to be stolen.
“Benedick should strengthen his security system. There are barely any anti-theft runes on the glass displays. It’s like he’s asking to be robbed.”
No one was surprised by his criticism. Royce would appreciate the honesty.
If only he knew they had snuck in at the last minute.
“Are you Leroy Pierrot?”
Across the room, standing behind a table of displays, a man wearing a hat was surrounded on all sides.
The man shook his head with a small laugh, “I’m just the curator.”
The woman who had asked him the question raised an eyebrow, so the man explained further, “Master Pierrot is shy and has severe social anxiety, but I am not. He has sent me in his place, my lady. I’m his voice for the day. You may ask me anything. I know every single piece in this store.”
The statement was met with fake gasps of admiration.
An elderly noble stepped forth, “I am very interested in buying the displays near the doors. Is there a date for when we can start purchasing the jewels?”
The man in the hat answered, “The ones by the entrance are available for auction next month, sir. If any of you are interested, I can show you some of the jewels used in the design. Master Pierrot developed that smithing technique with his teacher. If you see that specific design, you can tell it’s his and no one else’s.”
“Will the auction be the only option for me to buy it?”
“I’m afraid so, sir,” the man said with a demure tone, “Master donates all the proceeds to charity.”
“Hmph!” The elderly man had a hard frown on his face before he asked, “When are the dates?”
“First week of summer. We can notify you when the jewels will be auctioned if you like.”
“Please do.”
Another woman interrupted the conversation with a disbelieving expression, “I’m sorry. Did you say Master Pierrot is the only one capable of making his jewelry designs? I find that hard to believe. Is it truly that difficult for other craftsmen to learn from him?”
The question wasn’t rude, per se. It was mostly filled with mild skepticism.
“It’s a trade secret, I’m afraid,” the man told her with a shrug. “You will never find a design like Master Pierrot unless he teaches it. Unless someone is a Khartier Jeweler, they cannot learn the technique. Of course, all potential jewelers must sign a contract to keep the secrets of Khartier within Khartier, even once they leave, but if you have anyone you would like to recommend, I would be happy to deliver the message.”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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Everyone was an exaggeration, but the jewelry behind the man had caught the attention of more than a few people in the shop.
The man smiled and gestured to the display case, “Master Pierrot calls this the Overland Collection. It’s his most recent and proudest work.”
A large display of jewelry covered one section of the area.
Upon a closer look, Neo recognized some of the designs, not because he knew anything about jewelry, but because he saw the symbol of the caduceus appearing on more than ten of the jewelry.
Bracelets engraved with waves, not unlike a heartbeat. Metal that’s been skillfully manipulated into thin lines similar to stethoscopes with a small gem at the end. Diamond inlaid medicine bottle cap and vial pendants.
A simple necklace with a sand-silver needle. A garland surrounding it.
—
Royce left the group of people with five sponsors and ten recommendations heading his way. His mentor would be proud.
“Just so you know, the vaccine was a group effort.”
He paused in his steps.
Whipping his head around, he saw all three of his schoolmates standing there, not even bothering to wear a disguise.
The red-haired jeweler scowled.
“I don’t remember inviting any of you.”
“It’s your first shop. We wanted to be supportive.” Neo, the idiot who never learned social cues just to fuck with people, was loud enough for anyone within six feet to hear them.
“Don’t say that!” Royce hissed, tugging his hat further down to hide his face while looking around to see if anyone had heard.
After checking, he leaned in closer and told them, “If anyone asks, I’m the shop assistant.”
Tybalt tilted his head.
“Why? I thought you were the owner.”
Royce immediately turned on Neo with a glare, “You told them?!”
“Was I not supposed to? They know about our situation, too.”
…
“WHAT?!”
The shout echoed through the store and all heads turned.
Royce flushed red enough to almost match the color of his hair and dragged the three unwanted intruders behind a large display case.
“I thought you knew,” Neo said, once the four of them found themselves facing the Celestial War Collection.
They pretended to show interest in the display case like the intellectual art museum-goers that they weren’t while they talked.
“Well excuse me for being out of the loop for a whole week,” Royce snapped. “I forgot how fucking fast everything goes when you don’t go to school for a few days. Except, instead of missing assignments, I get to find out you revealed the one thing that could possibly get us burned at the pyre for possession by the Church. Fuck,” he cursed, kneading the knot between his brows exasperatedly. “This is why I didn’t want to be a goddamned politician.”
“That still has nothing to do with you pretending to be your own apprentice,” Neo said, clearly unable to comprehend the actual problem.
“Odum, shut the fuck up. You’re pissing him off,” Finneas interjected like the responsible friend that he was.
The sound of glass shattering into pieces rang through the room before the conversation could become even more heated.
“Benedick,” Finneas said without missing a beat, “Your security system is shit. Protection talismans exist for a reason.”
Several people started screaming like it was the end of the world.
From behind their hiding spot, the four boys watched the thief push an old rich lady to the ground like an asshole before booking it out the door.
“Oh wow, not even a lockdown array. You really thought this through like a true businessman. I see your goal was to get robbed on your first day for publicity.”
When did fucking Finneas get so good at roasting people?!
“I think he gets it, Finny,” Tybalt interjected.
Royce merely scowled in response while his three companions eyed him.
For someone whose jewelry just got stolen by a random thief, he had barely any reaction, and for very good reasons.
The four friends made eye contact briefly.
A second later, Neo casually pulled out a pair of daggers from his pocket.
“I’ll go get the thief,” he told them and broke into a run out the door.
He was like some debt collector chasing his client, absolutely disregarding his reputation as a Duke’s son.
Of course, his actions weren’t the complete solutions to the problem.
In an alternate universe, perhaps a wild son of a bastard was the only thing needed to stop a thief, but they lived in a world where physical actions and heroics weren’t enough to handle these incidents.
There was a reason why Nazareth had picked them.
Tybalt extracted a locator talisman from his pocket and nonchalantly stuck it on a wall.
“I’ll go secure the perimeters and get the patrol guards. Finny, can you cast the tracking spell?”
“Got it.”
Silver strands appeared between Finneas’ fingertips and tangled themselves together like a game of cat’s cradle.
“I can stay and handle security,” he told them, his focus mostly on the strands around his fingers. “Do we need an interrogation box?”
Tybalt nodded.
Finneas’ eyes glowed as he used his magic to scan the area.
“Odum’s already two blocks down. You can catch up if you go through the back door.”
The words were directed to Royce, who was aware of his role within the group.
Instinct set in as the three of them divided the work to suit their strengths, like a second skin.
Royce unwrapped the chain whip from his waist—it had been cleverly disguised as a makeshift belt—and wrapped it around his palm.
He took off after Neo.
The feeling of deja-vu slid into his mind. For him, and maybe for Neo, too, it was like the good old days before everything went to shit.
Of course, to call it the good old days was a bit of a stretch for what they had going for them, but before that Sutton Graham kid came along and before Neo’s little brother fell in love, they were powerful despite their powerlessness.
While the chains and shackles of society choked them in the daylight, they thrived unhindered in the shadows.
The four of them used to make trouble when they weren’t trying to promote the downfall of society by killing Neo’s little brother.
Why else would Neo have gotten the monicker Scummy Troublemaker?
Trouble was defined in more ways than one, and the nobility could only call it trouble, because if they had labeled him as a danger, a threat, there would have been hell to pay.
They used to beat the shit out of people from behind the scenes.
Whether or not those people actually deserved it, he couldn’t remember.
As long as Neo had said the word, he obeyed like the Asslicking Dog everyone claimed he was.
They each had their own unique methods. No one would have suspected Neo and Royce were the heavy hitters in their four-man group.
It was clear to see by anyone at a glance that Finneas and Tybalt were of lower status—it would have been more reasonable for them to do the physical work rather than the Duke and Marquis’ sons.
But they were always known to defy expectations.
They were anomalies; feared, hated, and avoided—and for good reasons, too.
But Royce didn’t ever think his ‘friends’ would ever defend the honor of his shop.
He didn’t think they’d care, despite what Neo said about coming here for support.
Clearly, Royce was wrong.
—
Neo had managed to corner the thief into an alleyway after a brief chase through the street.
He dodged the civilians and made sure not to draw too much attention to himself. If words got out of a thief stealing from the newly opened Khartier, it would look bad on Royce.
No one would trust the safety of his store, nor would they trust the security of his jewelry.
In the modern world, while thieves could increase the value of art, in this world, the complete opposite would happen.
Not only would the value of Khartier’s jewelry decrease, but they might not even be sold if the Empire saw it as a safety hazard for their owners.
Whoever this thief was, Neo was prepared to fuck him up if anything happened to Royce’s shop.
The thief scrambled like a rat trapped in a cage, looking painfully like the most inexperienced jewelry thief in the district.
Neo could see a trace of apprehension lining his shoulders as he stared at him.
From the thief’s pocket, he saw a necklace hanging out of it, barely hidden properly and swaying like the most incriminating evidence in the world.
“Give me the necklace.”
Neo demanded, positioning his dagger in front of him in a threatening gesture as he stepped closer.
The thief trembled.
Before Neo could react, the thief struck, one of his hands reaching out for his dagger.
Neo dodged but realized too late that the move was meant to be a distraction.
He was instantly met with powder thrown at his face.
Blindsided by the unexpected attack, he stumbled back in shock, only to be tackled to the ground like an untrained rugby player.
Hands wrapped around his wrists, keeping him restrained while the daggers in his hands were being ripped out of his grip.
“Is it a guard?” A voice asked.
“Tsk, just some brat. He’s got some good-looking knives, though. You think he’d be good for ransom?”
Fuck, this inexperienced thief was a part of a group.
Neo could feel the weight of the thief as he got on top of him. For whatever reason, they must have decided this was the best course of action, which, no, it was not.
Neo positioned himself to deliver a precise knee to the groin when he heard heavy footfalls in front of the alleyway.
—
“Neo!”
Royce arrived just in time to see some—son of bitch!
The thief had Neo pinned under him.
The teen was splayed on the ground, his hair a mess around him as he lay there helplessly with tears running down his face.
No words needed to be said further as Neo noticed him.
Royce watched as Neo went limp under the thief. The thief instinctively relaxed—what an amateur move—which allowed Neo to deliver his attack right in between what he believed were the family jewels.
A high-pitched squeal was all he needed to hear before Neo flung the thief off of him with an almost animalistic growl.
The thief screeched while his companion started to curse.
Royce cracked his chain whip, a dark expression making its way onto his face.
He maneuvered the whip skillfully, the muscle memory in his old body guiding him. It’d been a long time since he last used his favored weapon.
The chain wrapped around the thief’s accomplice tightly by the waist before he could run. The man screamed and Royce pulled, sending him into a wall gently.
A groan came from the man shortly before he went limp with foam forming in his mouth.
Royce saw this and snorted.
Weak.
Turning away from the incapacitated criminal, Royce was ready to take care of the guy who stole his jewelry—and was clearly trying to molest Neo—when he felt a dark and oppressive feeling encapsulate the alleyway.
“I… I’m sorry…! I’m s-sorry…!”
The malicious aura was coming from where the thief had landed after Neo threw him off.
When Royce’s eyes landed on that side of the alley, he saw that same man begging for his life as Neo pinned him against the ground by his neck.
“—Sorry… I’m sorry… Please don’t kill me…!”
Royce couldn’t see Neo’s expression. It was hidden behind a curtain of hair.
Whatever it was that the man saw, it scared him shitless.
Neo’s lips moved, saying something quietly next to the man’s ears.
The man’s eyes widened, but it was too late for him to react because the wraith who had him in a death grip raised his blade.
“Wait…!” Royce shouted.
The man passed out.
“Oh,” Neo blinked, “he wet himself.”
He got to his feet and wiped his eyes carefully.
“Thanks for the save.”
Tears continued to trickle down almost pitifully like he had suffered a terrible grievance despite the blank look on his face.
Royce carefully approached him, trying to conceal his anger for what the thief had done.
“You okay?” He asked.
Neo nodded and took out a handkerchief to carefully wipe his face.
“It’s just powder.”
Royce wasn’t convinced by this statement at first, but then he saw as Neo walked over to the passed-out thief and started to pat him down.
“What are you doing?” Royce was perplexed by his actions.
Neo felt the man up and down before he finally found what he was looking for.
He fished out a small black satchel from the man’s pockets. Royce noticed a small lotus symbol embroidered on the front and immediately thought that the thief had poor taste.
To think someone with such trashy taste in embroidery design would dare steal from him.
Neo opened the satchel and poured some of the white powder into his hand. From his observations, the thief was holding some of the powder in his hand, so he could only conclude it was safe to touch.
“He used this to blind me earlier. I want to take it back and improve its effects.”
It was clear to see he wanted to make a poison out of it.
All sympathy for this utterly shameless man died in Royce’s heart. He didn’t feel a single ounce of pity once he heard these words.
He messaged the knot that had started to form between his brows. “And to think I seriously thought you were reliving something traumatic just a moment ago.”
“… What?”
“Because you were crying!”
The former doctor tilted his head in confusion, “Roy, this is powdered pepper spray. You do know what the effects of pepper spray are, right?”
The fucking bastard had the audacity to ask him like he was an IDIOT!
Royce took several deep breaths.
In… hold… out.
In… hold… out.
“Let’s go back and wash out your eyes.”
“What about them?”
They stared at the thieves, one lying miserably on the ground with a large wet stain on his pants, and the other tied up face-first on the dirty alley floor, a puddle of saliva forming underneath his face.
“Tybalt called the guard patrol.”
“Okay?”
“But they’re at the store.”
“… Okay.”
That day, Carnelian Street had the pleasure of seeing two teenagers dragging two full-grown men through its dazzling sidewalks and into a back alley four blocks away from the alleyway they came out of.
—
Tybalt and Finneas had done an excellent job handling the guests in the shop.
The presence of the patrolling guards had made the situation even more intimidating, but once the door flew open and two bound and gagged men were thrown in front of everyone to see, many were relieved.
They were all rich and powerful people. It would have been disappointing to see Khartier shut down before it could reach its true potential.
The guards grabbed the thieves and hauled them to their feet.
Finneas placed a paralyzing charm on the criminals, effective for the next three hours.
After the guards left, the guests surrounded Royce, asking several questions regarding the safety of the stone jewelry.
Royce brought it out from his pocket.
It was a simple necklace, with no gemstone or any engraving, as a matter of fact.
The necklace was painfully simple, and that’s why it was so easily overlooked.
It was made entirely from a mix of platinum and titanium. The chains were small and delicate. At its center, a large and thin line, curved downward, connected the necklace together on each end with a short vertical line.
Royce didn’t say anything.
Instead, he merely placed the center of the necklace over his face and grinned.
“It’s a smile. Master Pierrot thinks the world needs to smile more.”
He was like a jester, a fool, playing the crowd like the showman he pretended to be.
Because to catch clients, he needed to entertain, no matter if he could still smile as warm-heartedly as he did before.
No one would believe the sad clown could still smile.
—
When the guests finally left, Royce wanted to crawl into his bed and not leave for the next three days.
He leaned his head against a wall and closed his eyes.
In… hold… out.
In… hold… out.
When he opened his eyes and turned around, he was met with a pair of vermillion eyes and nearly choked on his spit and died.
“W-what?”
Neo expressionlessly handed him a roll of parchment.
“I want to sponsor.”
There went his break.
Sighing, he took the parchment and read through it.
Gradually, his face grew darker and darker, until it was almost entirely black with displeasure.
“Is this some kind of joke?!”
Neo blinked. “Hm?”
“You get five percent profit?!”
The other still wore a confused look on his face as he nodded.
“Do you want me to lower it?”
Royce felt incredulous, “Lower? You’ll hardly gain anything with a five percent. Why are you sponsoring with so much money?” And allowing yourself to receive so little?
A small quirk of Neo’s lips showed he was slightly amused by this question.
“It’s from my personal funds,” he admitted. “I have a lot to make up for, and I don’t know how to be good to you. I want you to achieve the happiness you’ve been fighting for, and this is my way of helping you achieve it. Take the money,” Neo insisted, “Do great things with it. Whatever it is you want to do from here on out, I’ll always be your strongest backer and support you.”
Royce released a humorless chuckle and shook his head.
“You know, this is why everyone assumes I’m your Asslicking Dog.”
Neo’s head shot up and he looked ready to retort, but Royce cut him off.
“Just listen to me, doctor. You’ve always been bad at it, but the first thing to supporting your friends is to listen.“
The blacked haired boy shut his mouth and stared at him sullenly, which earned him another chuckle.
“You might not even remember when I got that name, but I do. Back then, everything was about your end goals. Your ambitions. Your purpose. You, you, you. It was never about anyone else besides you. People thought the only reason I pandered to you was because I was a suck-up. They didn’t think anyone would genuinely like you. We grew up together, Naz. I knew you before… all of this. I liked you the way you were, and you were alright considering all the shit we did. We were bad, and we walked a fine line, but what made the scale tip? What made you decide to turn into a complete monster? After second year, you just went batshit crazy—and—and—I tried to be supportive! I tried… but I was obviously not enough… was I?”
Neo didn’t say a word, because he knew Royce wasn’t done.
“That perfect kingdom we built for ourselves just crumbled into ashes. I was so angry with the way you threw everything away for some brat. Everyone thought it was ridiculous how you were jealous of some common boy who did nothing to you but exist. Why…?”
Once again, Neo remained silent. He stared at Royce with an unreadable gaze, the surface of his eyes calm like a lake.
“You know, what made me even more irritated was how easy it was to slip back into my roles. In the end, I am still that Asslicking Dog, catering to your whims, being your support. I was never the ‘second-in-command,’ but I was still criticized for pretending like I was yours—”
“You were always mine.”
Royce’s eyes snapped to Neo, who said those simple words with little thought for the consequences it could potentially bring.
“What?”
Neo met his gaze firmly with steely resolve.
“You were always mine. Tybalt wasn’t. I knew it a long time ago, but I denied it because I was lonely. He was a companion, but he was also Aurelion’s ally. Despite that, I am still very lonely. I am very greedy, so I will continue to keep all of you as long as you want me to. Even now, I want you still, and I am grateful for all those years you placed your trust in me and the loyalty you’ve given me. Roy, I would be more than happy to call you my friend, but only if you still want to be.”
They were once foolish little boys who built their kingdom by playing with a fire they didn’t know could burn it down.
At first, the fire brought comfort. It was a source of warmth, a home to return to. Gradually, they learned to surround it, to develop around it.
Later, as their powers grew, the fire came with them like torchlight and began to extend out of their control.
In the end, they were left with nothing but ashes.
All because they played with fire.
Royce wasn’t appeased, but he felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
He scrutinized Neo for a moment longer and finally brought out a pen.
He signed the sponsorship contract.
“I can’t reject a generous offer like this. Your family’s rich, so I will exploit it. It’s a pleasure doing business.”
This was the closest he was willing to admit he still wanted to try.
Despite being in their teenage bodies, they weren’t young anymore.
They weren’t those foolish boys trying to bite off more than they could chew. They couldn’t continue to live like they were the kings of the world while the curse of that fire still burned behind them.
It was time to learn to control it, like how it was always meant to be before they decided to allow the flames the freedom to burn.
Royce tried to suffocate the warm feeling in his chest as Neo gave him a half-hearted smile.
—
Tybalt leaned against the wall and watched from the back of the store as Naza and Royce had another much-needed conversation.
Beside him, Finny was making snarky comments.
“Every single time, they sound like divorced parents trying to be considerate for their children. Are they trying to share custody, or discussing child support. Wait, are we the children?”
Tybalt shrugged.
It was still a little hard to believe Naza and Royce came from the future, but it was moments like these that made Tybalt doubt himself.
If Naza and Royce really were from the future, then that would make them adults.
And Tybalt, despite his maturity, had never been able to trust adults.
“Okay, I’m ready to leave. You need a ride?”
Tybalt smiled, “If you only brought your horse, then I will join Naza in his carriage.”
Because there was no way he was going to ride horseback with Finneas. Not with his crazy maneuvering skills.
Finneas clicked his tongue but smartly didn’t argue.
Tybalt gazed outside the window and saw the sun gradually making its way down the horizon.
He needed to get home to his siblings soon.
“Hey, Naza?”
Seeing Naza freeze was all Tybalt needed to observe to know that he had forgotten about him and Finneas.
Tybalt internally sighed but plastered a Cheshire smile onto his face.
“Can we go home? You’re my ride home.”
Vermillion eyes widened, and Naza nodded with a slightly sheepish expression.
“Let’s go. Roy, you need a ride?”
Royce turned down his offer, “I got here by horseback.”
It was a perfectly balanced group.
Two by horseback, two by carriage.
So they separated at the door, Finneas and Royce toward the stables while Tybalt followed Naza to the carriage parked by the road.
Tybalt, being as observant as he was, didn’t miss the way Naza and Royce exchanged a few more words.
“So you rode a motorcycle. Doesn’t it rain a lot in Angland?”
“It looked cool. You drove a two-wheeled hybrid.”
“The fact that you know what car I drive is mildly disturbing.”
“The fact that you aren’t aware of how much information about you is on the internet is incredibly horrifying.”
Tybalt couldn’t understand a single thing of what they were saying, but it poked more holes into his resiliently reasonable mind.
Huh.
Maybe…
The thought made him sigh. He was actually surprised he was able to hold out for so long.
Naza and Royce were definitely from the future.
—
Step 25: Be a supportive friend. How do you show your support? Go to the grand opening of their first store and cheer them on! It’s even better if there’s a thief involved because then, you can also help catch the thief… to show your support! Also, conversations are good. It can solve a lot of misunderstandings.
aaah, god i love royce and neo’s dynamic, it literally puts a smile on my face every timethank you for your hard work!! this chapter was absolutely amazing!!
Thanks
Neo popping out of nowhere like a ghost hahah
I know he’s reformed, but I absolutely love Neo Wrath-of-Heaven Mode ❤️ I would like this chapter from the thief ‘s POV, to hear what he was told.
Thanks for the chapter!! Always waiting anxiously for more ❤️
Amo seu livro aaaa😘😘😘😘😘😘
Obrigado pelo capítulo!!!!
Thanks for the chapter! A lot of conversing is needed for that group, lol.
This is art
thankiesss for the chaptur
Aaahhh! I was so happy to see an update for this! Glad to see Neo and his friends again!
Ty for the update~
Thank you for the chapter!
I really likes this novel, unpredictable as it is, it always gives me pleasant surprises as I craves for more. 🥰
Rly good relationship dynamics. While Finny doesn’t gives batshits and threw it all away for godsake, Tybalt is like balace things out even if he felt it were all absurd, he just left it at the backburner for all he care as long as the present is well enough, hahah.
“He was actually surprised he was able to hold out for so long.
Naza and Royce were definitely from the future. “
thanks for the chapter <3
Thank you for this long awaited chapter 🤗
thank you for the chapter!!
Wait. Hold up. I’m certain I didn’t read this part in web novel(?) Did I perhaps miss this part? Nah, I don’t think so.
So ummm what I’m trying to say is…. ur not going to poison him? Right author? Mannnnn I can’t take it but if it’s ur will then I will.
Huhu thank you for the update HAHHAHA I just check it out and yeah. This is new. Looking forward for the next update! 😀
Thank you for the chapter!
Thanks for the update😊. One question, not trying to be rude or anything like that, but is Royce the ML? For now I don’t like him as a ML, I think Neo needs someone with a stronger personality and more in line with his personality. I really like Neo psychotic/scary/dominant side, it’s rare and unique in BL.
There’s a lot in this chapter. Damn I loce their interactions, or in fact, their friendship. The dynamic is just chef kiss.
Thanks for the chapter!
Who’s the ml? aahhh I ship my baby Neo to everyone except the siblings
Thank you for the chapter 🥰
Thanks for the chapter 🥰🥰
Royce being angry after seeing Neo crying ‘pitifully’ pinned down ayaaaaaaa
I like their dynamics. I hope good fortune and luck happen to their group and no more falling out