Chapter 41. Our House Dog Bites

Chapter 41. Our House Dog Bites

The blond man who had approached their table whistled as he took in the sight of Caron and his group.

"You were having lunch with other men besides me? Are they knights?" he asked, his voice dripping with insincerity.

It was clear that this man had no idea that Caron and the others were from the Leston household. They had taken off their cloaks, which bore the emblem of the Leston family, so that probably made it hard for him to identify them.

Amy's expression darkened as she looked at the man. It was a stark contrast to the anger that had twisted her face earlier. Now, her features were contorted with disgust, as if there was a deep history between them.

"Mind if I join you? I didn't get to eat breakfast because of Amy here," the man said, not waiting for a response before seating himself. He immediately grabbed a piece of lamb from the table and popped it into his mouth.

Even in that short period of time, his eyes darted around, scanning Caron, Leo, and Hugo. The man scrutinized Caron and his group's faces with a mocking smile before sneering, "It looks like you had some time to meet men, huh? I thought Imperial Guard trainees were supposed to be busy?"

Amy glared at him and said, "I already paid this month's interest."

"Yes, you did," the man acknowledged. "But I came here to make you a proposal. You never make time to see me. And it seems you have time for these guys, but not for your creditor. If you want, we can all hang out together. Just know that I'm not sharing the bed."

His tone was as vulgar as it could get. Judging by his appearance, he was undoubtedly the son of a noble family. The expensive jewelry adorning his body was enough to confirm that.

After swallowing the lamb, the man turned to Caron and his group and introduced himself, proudly declaring, "The name is Drogol Kian."

Hugo's expression hardened at the name as he replied, "Kian, as in the House of Count Kian?"

"Oh, you know my family?" Drogol asked.

"Who wouldn't? It's the noble family that lends money to other nobles. The most notorious loan sharks in the capital," Hugo remarked.

"Exactly. If you're in the capital and don't know our name, you're living under a rock. We're the ones who bankroll Marquis Diaz's house," Drogol boasted.

"Now that I hear it, I remember. Your name is Drogol Kian, twenty-one years old, and you're the youngest son of Count Kian. A very famous man has joined us," Hugo said.

"Yeah, I'm quite well-known. People tremble when they see me," Drogol replied, clearly pleased with himself.

House Diaz was one of the key players in the central government, having played a crucial role in dethroning the former emperor and supporting the current one. Drogol's confidence wasn't baseless.

"Now that I've introduced myself, you should do the same," Drogol said, flashing a confident smile at Caron and his companions.

Caron, however, merely smirked and retorted, "Who said we wanted to exchange names? You're full of crap, aren't you?"

"...I don't know what noble's brat you are, but it seems you missed your etiquette lessons," Drogol remarked.

"There's an old saying that not even a dog bothers you when you're eating. But here you are, making a fuss and talking about manners? You're funny," Caron added.

The atmosphere grew tense in an instant. Drogol, seemingly unfazed, ran a hand through his hair and grinned before turning to Amy. He sneered, "Are these brats the type you're into? You could've told me earlier."

Amy, however, ignored Drogol's words. Instead, she bowed her head apologetically to Caron and his group and said, her voice steady despite the tension, "I'm sorry. This is a matter between our families. I'll take care of it outside. Please wait for me."

She stood up, shooting Drogol a cold glare before saying, "Come out."

"Hold on. This is getting interesting," Drogol replied as he shot a menacing look at Caron, who was gripping his knife. Drogol continued, "Usually, people avoid me when they see me in the capital because I tend to make a scene. That's why most people remember my face. I guess you must be newcomers from the countryside, huh? That explains why you had a country bumpkin air about you."

Caron quickly assessed the type of person Drogol was. He was someone from a powerful family, with a rotten personality to match.

"So, you must be an infamous troublemaker around here?" Caron remarked.

This was what one would call a real troublemaker: An idiot who acted recklessly because they trusted in their family's name.

"I wonder how many people like you there are in the capital?" Caron continued.

Drogol replied with a relaxed expression, "There are quite a few like me in the capital, but I get the most attention. That's because a lot of nobles are in debt to my father, including Amy's father."

Caron had already pieced together the situation. He calmly took a bite of his steak, then casually wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"You came at the right time. I've been wondering what kind of trouble I could stir up in the capital. Thanks for making it easy by showing up," he said with a bright smile crossing his face as he reached for the sword that rested by his side. He observed, "Looks like you haven't done any training."

With a smug grin, Drogol replied, "Why bother? I can buy all the knights I need. What, you think you can cut me down with that sword? The moment you do, the Imperial Guards will have you on the execution block. And your family will join you soon after, cursing your name as they're dragged to their deaths."

The situation took a dark turn, and Amy, sensing the change, urgently tried to intervene. "Young Master Caron, this is my problem—"

Caron raised his hand, cutting her off. He said, "I don't want you to misunderstand. This isn't about you. You see, I've got a bit of an illness."

"An illness?" Amy repeated, confused.

"I have this illness where I just can't ignore brats like him," Caron began. "The cause of this illness is... How should I say this? Ah yes, my dream is to become the greatest troublemaker in the world. Do you know what the easiest way to achieve that is?"

"You bastard! What the hell are you babbling about?!" Drogol shouted at Caron.

"The name of this scabbard is Duban. It's an heirloom of the Leston household, but from now on, you're going to call it 'Teacher Duban.' It's your etiquette teacher," Caron said.

"...Leston household? You're from the Leston Du—"

Caron didn't let him finish. He slammed the scabbard down again, this time on Drogol's left shin, eliciting another agonized scream.

"Aaaaahhhhhhh!"

"Speak only when Teacher Duban asks you a question. Oh, and just so you know, Teacher Duban is a scabbard, so it doesn't ask questions. Keep that in mind," said Caron.

Soon, a hellish scene began to unfold in the dining hall.

***

Meanwhile, at the Tax Office, located in the heart of the capital...

Gyle was in his office, receiving a report from his secretary. He said, "...Say that again."

"About thirty minutes ago, Young Master Caron Leston, your grandson, violently assaulted Drogol Kian, the third son of Count Kian, in a restaurant near the Boutique District. He is currently being held by the City Guard," the secretary repeated.

"Hahaha," Gyle chuckled.

It was just this morning that he had parted with his grandson, who had been smiling brightly. He had expected Caron to cause trouble, but to do so on the very next day after arriving in the capital was beyond his predictions.

Gyle slowly placed the documents he had been reading onto his desk and repeated the name he had just heard. "Drogol Kian... Drogol Kian... Ah, isn't he the youngest son of the Count, the infamous troublemaker?"

"Yes, sir. According to rumors... Young Master Caron even fed Drogol Kian a potion before continuing the beating," the secretary informed Gyle.

"A potion? Why would he give him a potion?" Gyle asked.

"Well... it seems he thought that by healing Drogol Kian just enough, he could prolong the beating," the secretary answered.

"Hahaha!" Gyle burst out laughing again. His grandson certainly had a unique way of thinking. As he removed his glasses, he rubbed his face with both hands before asking in a voice tinged with resignation, "I suppose I need to go myself, don't I?"

A noble couldn't be investigated by the City Guard. Even if a noble committed murder, the investigation was handled exclusively by the Imperial Guards, who served the royal family. And this was a matter between nobles. If things escalated, the worst-case scenario would be if Caron ended up detained by the Imperial Guards.

"Well... It seems you might not need to go in person, sir," the secretary said.

"What are you talking about? Count Kian is a money-grubber. He's not going to let it slide after his son's been beaten!" Gyle replied.

"...Apparently, the victim is pleading for leniency," the secretary informed Gyle.

For a moment, Gyle thought he had misheard. He asked to confirm, "The victim is asking for leniency, not severe punishment?"

"Yes, Sir. Drogol Kian is reportedly begging for leniency, even shedding tears. He insists that Sir Caron is innocent, claiming that everything started from his own mouth... He's even muttering to himself about how he will surely reform," the secretary said.

"Drogol Kian, that no-good bastard, said that?" Gyle asked in disbelief.

"Yes, Sir," the secretary assured him.

Drogol Kian was a man notorious for his obsession with women. If a woman caught his eye and happened to be a commoner, he would use his wealth and status to take her. Even if she were a noblewoman, if her family was indebted to his father, he wouldn't hesitate to put his hands on her. His behavior had earned him a terrible reputation throughout the capital, and his issues with women were just the tip of the iceberg. The list of his misdeeds was too long to even begin describing.

But now that scoundrel was pleading for Caron's leniency? The same Caron who had brutally beaten him?

"Caron, what kind of sorcery did you use on him?" Gyle muttered to himself.

"Thanks to that, it seems Young Master Caron will be released soon. This is the first time in a noble dispute that the victim has pleaded for leniency..." the secretary said.

"Nobles would rather die than lose their honor. Ha... How am I supposed to explain this to my in-laws?" Gyle sighed as he turned his gaze out the window. By now, the rumors were likely spreading like wildfire. That was the nature of the capital.

"Quite the entrance you've made, my boy," he muttered under his breath. Could his in-laws really not have anticipated this situation?

No way, he thought.

A bucket that leaked inside would surely leak outside as well. Duke Hale had to have foreseen this situation. Gyle briefly recalled the nickname Caron had earned at Azureocean Castle. It was a vulgar and blasphemous title, but it seemed to fit the situation perfectly.

The Mad Dog of Azureocean Castle, he thought.

Where there was smoke, there was fire. There had to have been several incidents that led to him earning that nickname. Thus, the answer was already clear.

"...The Leston territory has unleashed a mad dog on the capital," Gyle said.

The thought of what could come next filled him with a sense of foreboding.