Silent Crown

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

"Hey! Are you still not finished shining my shoes?!"

In the room, an impatient voice yelled, "Housekeeper! Housekeeper! Is that lazy b*stard slacking off again? I told you before that these beggars are like donkeys. They don't work unless you whip them."

"Young Master, please do not worry. There's still a while before we reach land."

"I don't care. Just prepare everything and make sure I have the best formalwear when we get there." The annoyed kid burped loudly. "Housekeeper, get me some more desserts. I want the lemon and honey kind. This stupid boat doesn't have any food. All we get is fish every meal."

"Yes sir." The housekeeper walked out and gently closed the door. His face changed dramatically and kicked the boy beside him, glaring at him.

"Hurry up, kid. If you ruin things for things for the young Master, you're in for it!"

"Yes, yes. Sir, don't worry. It'll be done in a minute. Just a minute!" Victor squeezed out a smile as his hands scrubbed at the leather shoes. "Look, it's almost done."

"Be careful! That's high grade calfskin!" The housekeeper kicked him again. "You can't pay for these boots even if you work your entire life!"

"Yes, yes!"

After scolding him some more, the housekeeper stalked away.

Victor's smile faded as the housekeeper walked further away. Touching the bruise on his face, his eyes turned cold.

He had already been on this boat to the Burgundy Empire for ten days. In the beginning, he had been squeezed in the storage cabin with bankrupted businessmen and jobless commoners. He was ready to put everything in to dig for gold in Burgundy Empire's new colony. He would gamble his life to get rich.

But a few days ago, he used his fists to win the opportunity to be a temporary servant for the young Master in the ship's first class. The little fatty was irritable and the housekeeper was cruel, but at least he would not have to eat and sh*t in the pigsty under the ship. He would get two more cups of fresh water every day too. Eating leftovers was better than drinking that swill.

And…this could be the chance.

"Hey, you said there will be a chance to true success? Did you mean being a slave for this pig?" The Rain Artist in a small bottle in Victor's pocket was getting impatient. "Are you a man? You willingly let that pig ride you like a horse yesterday!"

"So what?" Victor retorted. "What should I do? Kill him? On this boat with no escape? And then get hung on the mast? All you've been giving me these days are horrible ideas." He continued, "Old guy, you're not a scary and important person anymore. You're a slave now, just like me. Except I'm on a boat and you're in a bottle."

"What are you thinking now?" the Rain Artist asked.

"You're being dramatic. All I want is my wages." Victor glanced at the door and murmured, "…But my wages are a little high. The old man has more than enough money though, so I think he can afford it."

Hearing Victor's resentment, Rain Artist could not help but sigh. "That's how the world is. You can work your entire life, but still be nothing to a b*stard an elite conceived while drunk. Too bad you don't have the talent to be a musician. Otherwise, with your personality, you'd be better off than me."

"Anyone with a brain would be better off than you." Victor said mockingly, "Is what you think? That being a musician would put you above everyone? That being a musician would make you equal with the elites? That's just because elites need a dog to bite people. You're the type of easy guy who falls for any girl who looks at you."

Rain Artist fell silent. He did not defend himself because Victor really had hit his insecurities.

Before becoming a dark musician, he had always been played by an elite woman like a clown. But he had realized too late, and pleased that woman by becoming a musician, and even made sacrifices to Satan.

After that first wrong step, every step afterward was wrong too. He had been reduced to this state, but that woman had married a rich man and became a true elite.

"It's never wrong to be fierce. What do you plan to do?" Reminded of the past, his voice turned poisonous.

"Just wait until we get to the port." Victor wiggled his fingers, reminiscing on when he used to work at the pier. "I saw that the housekeeper has a few hundred thousand franc money orders, and many jewels…We can do something big."

"You want to take out the kid and housekeeper?" Rain Artist asked excitedly.

"Dumb*ss, losing money and losing a life isn't the same. It'll cause too much trouble if we take them out," Victor scolded in a low voice. "Don't forget that he has an entire family behind him. Do you want them to all come after me?"

"I think it's pretty much the same." Rain Artist scoffed. "You're just scared of killing, right?"

"…" For a rare moment, Victor fell silent.

Rain Artist had the upper hand in the argument and chuckled, but stopped talking.

"Victor! Victor! Where the f*ck are you? Get over here!" In the room, the impatient duck voice sounded again. "I want to ride the horse!"

"Yes, young Master, I'm coming," Victor replied with a smile.

Pushing the door open, he entered the room and was met with a slap.

In the luxurious room, so different from the storage cabin, the fat kid gave him two loud slaps without a word. "What are you doing? Why are you so slow? I told you not to slack off!"

"I'm sorry, young Master. I'm very clumsy and angered you." Victor gave a simpering smile while observing the room. In a gentle voice he suggested, "You've been on this boat for ten days without going outside. It's so stuffy in here. Why don't we go take a walk? I heard that there are many elite ladies here. Maybe you can meet your destiny."

"Really?" Hearing 'elite ladies,' his eyes brightened. But very quickly, the boy threw the cup in his hands at the wall. "No, I won't go."

"Oh, why?" Victor froze a little, worried that he would miss this great chance.

"Why are you asking so much? I'm not going out! Do you want me to reward you for kissing up to me?" The young Master rolled his eyes. "You scum always have a reason for wanting to get close to us! Let me tell you, I know what you're thinking! Don't think that I'm a charity."

"Oh, of course not," Victor simpered. Hearing the door open behind him, he sighed inside. This chance was going to slip away.

"Young Master, I checked and we're going to land at the pier soon!" the housekeeper said with a smile. "The marquis has received news of your arrival, and is preparing a feast to welcome you back. You must take care to not lose the elite style."

"This quickly?" Victor thought.

Victor's chest clenched and felt a few bronze coins fall at his feet. The housekeeper waved. "This is your pay. You can get out now."

Victor did not bend over to pick up the coins. Instead, he touched the blade hidden in his sleeves and let out a sigh. Did he really have to use it?

He studied the housekeeper and the fatty. But before he could decide which one to kill first, there was wild shaking.

In the sudden thundering, the entire steel boat shook as if it had crashed into a reef. The guests on the ship were flipped over and rolled on the ground.

No, this wasn't a reef. As Victor pondered, someone outside the door screamed, "Help! Fire!"

"The boiler room exploded!"

"There's a giant hole in the sideboard. Seal the cabin!"

While rolling, Victor ended up under the bed. Hearing this, his face paled. The boiler room was right over the storage cabin. If it exploded, then it was bad news for those there. If they sealed the cabin, then the people in the storage area would have nowhere to go!

But before he could get up, the housekeeper's expression changed. Suddenly understanding something, he pushed the fatty toward a cabinet. "Young Master, please hide well. I'll go outside to check…"

Before he could finish, the room's wall collapsed.

The alloy cabin doors twisted and bent. A shadow flew into the room and pulled out a sword. The blade sliced through the air, singing.

Like lightning, it flew toward the dazed fatty's heart!

The housekeeper pushed the young Master down and used his heart to stop the blade. Under his shirt, a complex design flashed. Its glow solidified the air, turning it into a shield.

The sword crashed into the solidified air and pierced into the wall.

The shadow pulled out the blade and ran toward the shield like a storm. The blade created a ripple in the shield. The housekeeper paled, but the shield still stood.

"What's going on?" Under the bed, Victor was shaken.

"Hmph, it's just basic alchemy. He branded the rune on his armor. But regular people need to pay for this. The 'Iron Wall' uses up blood."

Rain Artist saw everything clearly and chuckled coldly, "This is an assassination, kid. It's clear someone doesn't want this fatty to get back to Burgundy. If I'm not wrong, the assassin will sacrifice blood too…"

As soon as he finished, the shadowy assassination jerked, and the blurry sword finally showed its true appearance. The sword was extremely sharp with a thin and narrow blade. On it, three lines of runes were engraved on the blade. The blade seemed ready to break.

But the assassin fiercely gripped the sword's blade. Without reserving any strength, it seemed he wanted to cut through his palm. Blood flowed from his hand, covering the entire sword.

The runes on the sword shimmered and a metallic roar sounded. The clash of high and low notes seemed to pierce one's eardrums. Even the air around the assassin rippled.

"Ha, the assassin has some good stuff. It even has Forging, Dragon's Attack and Deadly Ivy." Rain Artist raised his voice, "Cover your ears!"

Victor did so reflexively, but before he could ask why, it felt like he was thrown into a bulwark! An endless tide crashed onto him. He felt the stinging pain, as if his skin was getting ripped to shreds. But it was not a tide—it was the wave created by the wailing in the air. Victor's mind went blank. The assassin easily pierced the shield.

It was so easily destroyed!

The shield shattered instantly, shards hitting into the wall, creating holes.

The housekeeper's armor crumbled to dust too, turning his chest into slush. The blade passed through him, piercing into the terrified fatty on the ground.

With a pierced heart, the great shaking broke his vessels, and the fatty died instantly.

Confirming the death, the assassin went through the broken wall and dropped into the ocean, riding the waves away!

In the chaos, no one noticed what had really happened.

Victor was the only one left in the room.

He pulled himself up in a daze, but he reacted quickly.

Rushing to the housekeeper, he pulled open the pockets and stuffed all the jewels and the still-intact money notes into his own pocket.

Then, he found two rings embedded with jewels on the dead fatty. He also found a letter close to the corpse's body.

He hesitated before quickly scanning it, reading ten lines at once. It was a good thing that the priest had educated him, so that he could somewhat understand French.

"Dear Don Juan, fate's cruel arrangement made you leave me when you were born. How are you in Anglo? My health has had some problems these days and I think of you more and more… It's been seventeen years. You must have grown up now, right? …The one with this letter is my close housekeeper. He will take you back to reunite with me. But please remember to keep a low profile on the road. I'm worried people will cause you trouble because of me… I'm waiting to reunite with you…"

Seeing the letter, Victor sunk into a long silence. He was frozen, as if he had been fossilized.

"Hey, kid, what happened? Stop spacing out!" Rain Artist called from his arms. "There must be a secret compartment in the drawer by the bed. Elites love that trick. Hurry up and get it before other people discover!"

Rain Artist froze before he could finish.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

He watched as Victor quickly took the jewels out and stuffed them back onto the housekeeper. Those that would not fit, he threw them into the sea. Rain Artist screamed every time Victor threw something away.

"Are you crazy? Don't you want to succeed? That's the capital for your future!"

"No, I'm not crazy." Victor shook his head, looking at the dead young Master under the housekeeper's corpse. He had died without his eyes closed, the whites showing, but this was the first time Victor found him cute. Seeing him, he could not help but laugh.

"—This is what's crazy."

"What do you mean?"

Victor studied the youth and his similar body and asked, "Old guy, don't you think that 'Don Juan' is a nice name?"

Rain Artist suddenly understood. He yelled, "You've gone crazy wanting to succeed!"

"Haha, you're funny. Who doesn't want to succeed?" He quickly exchanged their clothes and dumped Don Juan's corpse into the ocean.

Very quickly, the corpse was taken away by the rolling waves. The burning oil from the boiler room would disfigure it too. As for Victor, he had already changed into the luxurious clothes, and shoved Rain Artist's bottle into a pocket.

Lastly, he looked at the hole before on his left breast pocket. He was still missing something.

Outside, the distant noise of people sounded. Someone had found the source of the boom and had come to investigate.

"It seems that the opportunity to succeed is everywhere." Victor took out the knife he had prepared and aimed it toward his heart. Pressing against his check, he took a deep breath. "Sadly, it always takes some investment."

Hiss! The small knife was pushed through to its handle.

Victor threw the knife into the ocean and collapsed onto the floor. Blood was flowing too quickly, almost spurting onto the ceiling. He was a little dazed. Did he gamble too much this time?

Using the last of his strength, he crawled to the housekeeper and pulled the corpse over him. He felt his life slipping away in the growing puddle of blood, and lost consciousness.

The moment before he passed out, the door was forced open.

"My God, what happened here?" the sailor yelped. The panicked footsteps that entered the room destroyed every last bit of evidence.

The men checked the corpses. Pushing past the dead housekeeper, someone found the barely breathing youth. Reaching out to feel the pulse, he called, "Someone come! He's still alive! Doctor! Doctor!"

Hearing this, Victor—no, young Master Don Juan—smiled sweetly.

He calmly closed his eyes.

"Father, I'm coming," he thought.