A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Auction (2)

Meanwhile, in Hadecaine, the capital of Yukline territory, real-time updates about Deculein were being received.

“What? Right now? He’s at the auction house?” Yeriel said, furrowing her brow.

Last year, he had squandered ten million elne from the territory's finances, and now he was doing it again. After their fight, she hadn’t expected him to repeat the same stunt.

“Yes, it seems the auction is already underway,” the butler said.

“Ah...” Yeriel said, feeling a wave of dizziness at the butler’s confirmation.

As the de facto Lord of Hadecaine Castle, she did her best to cut expenses. Deculein's actions were completely baffling to her.

“... Got it. You may go,” Yeriel said.

“Yes, Lady Yeriel.”

Slam—!

“Fuck!”

As soon as the butler left, Yeriel slammed her desk, opened a bottle of whiskey, and poured herself a glass. With each pour, her anger flared even more.

“Could it be that he asked for the mining acquisition money for this last time? That lunatic?” Yeriel said.

Gulp.

She gulped down the glass of whiskey. It burned her throat, but it was better than the feeling that her head would explode.

“Aargh—! Aaaaargh—!” Yeriel screamed in frustration. “That fucking idiot!”

Yeriel believed she surpassed Deculein in magical talent, practical sense, administrative skills, understanding of the territory’s customs and industries, and every moral quality except etiquette. Yet, Deculein remained the head of Yukline, likely forever.

“Seriously, why...?”

Their parents had been too quick to trust in Deculein's talent, deciding on his succession too early. As a child, Deculein was a whiz kid, mastering Mage Tower of University-level magic by the age of ten.

But that was it. It was like Yeriel's height. She had surpassed five foot three by age ten and expected to grow tall and elegant like Deculein, but her growth stopped there. Her body never developed further.

In other words, he wasn't a genius. He was just precocious. Deculein had only been precocious. That's why their parents once told her they regretted their decision. They regretted deciding too early.

“You should have been the head of the family, not Deculein.”

... That part was only her imagination, but still.

"Fuuuck, regret is always too late, no matter when it comes..." Yeriel said.

It was too late for regrets. Nothing could be changed or undone. Their parents had passed away, and Deculein would forever remain the head of the Yukline family. Although it was unfair, Yeriel accepted it. Deculein took after their father, while she took after their mother.

Since her mother was a concubine who married their father after his first wife passed away, it was only natural for Deculein, the son of the first wife, to become the head of the family. It was an infuriatingly logical outcome.

She understood this, but it still felt unfair. She was confident she could do a better job than him—much better than that bastard who only indulged in luxuries in the capital.

"Oh... I miss them so much," Yeriel said after finishing the entire bottle. Resting her head on the desk, she muttered, "Why did you have to die so soon?"

Seven years have already passed since they both passed away. For the past seven years, she had often longed to hug them and cried almost every day. Now, at twenty-six, she was the acting Lord, having set aside her childish tears to fulfill her duty as a member of the Yukline family.

“... That bastard really pisses me off.”

Slam—! Slam—! Slam—!

Instead of tears, she drooled as she pounded the desk. After several hits, she sighed in resignation.

“Hopefully, he won't spend too much...”

Deculein despised excessive greed, considering it beneath his dignity. Yet now, she wanted to shatter all his foolish dignity and etiquette into pieces.

"That fuckin' bastard..." Yeriel slurred, clearly drunk.

Once, she had sought his brotherly love and felt proud of his very existence. But he was always cold and imposing, forcing ill-fitting etiquette upon her.

Of course, she had tried back then. She couldn't match that man's innate sense of etiquette, but she had wanted to be loved. She tried to earn his affection by wearing uncomfortable dresses, carrying etiquette books in her small hands, and following him everywhere.

But he ignored her, pushed her away, and yelled at her. She thought it was only natural since she was the daughter of a concubine. She believed she was unworthy, feeling she lacked the grace, intelligence, and nobility expected of her. Yet over time, she realized it was Deculein who lacked nobility.

“... That bastard.”

Yeriel became strong after giving up on being loved. Strong enough to curse him to his face in any situation and manage the vast Yukline territory on her own. She wasn't sure if she had become stronger or merely broken, but she was now capable of leading Yukline by herself.

She took pride in that, knowing that over seven years, Yukline had flourished under her guidance. All the vassals in the territory now recognized her as the true Lord.

"Sigh..."

Yeriel held it as a cherished source of pride and comfort in her heart.

***

The Auction Stage at Luten Schatzenjewel was exceptionally lavish. The seats, covered in red velvet favored by the nobility, were trimmed with golden embroidery. The auction platform on the far side gleamed as if it were made entirely of gold.

It was a dazzling display of red and gold. Amid the subtle fragrance and the laughter of the aristocrats, I perused the auction catalog on the armrest of my VVIP seat.

“There are many items on the list,” I said.

The catalog listed porcelain, necklaces, scissors, rings, relics, excavation finds, and the Snowflower Stone. In addition to the Snowflower Stone, there were many artifacts that would be useful to mages. For reference, I briefly checked the market value of the Snowflower Stone, which ranged from ten million to thirty million elne. It was a substantial price.

— Honored guests of the Luten Schnitzel auction, I would like to say a few words...

At that moment, the auctioneer's voice echoed through the room, and the lights dimmed. The chatter slowly faded.

— Just as ice that seems permanent eventually melts, and seeds soaked in water sprout into new shoots...

The auctioneer began his introduction. An item was already on display on the platform.

— ... Yes, the new spring has begun, and here is the first item to kick off the season’s auction!

It appeared to be an ordinary piece of pottery.

— Look at the elegant curves of this piece. This is the Oriental Vase, crafted by a master artisan from the distant Eastern Archipelago. It comes with a certificate of authenticity from the Pottery Association, declaring it a top-quality masterpiece. The starting bid is 500,000 elne, with 50,000 elne increments.

At first, I had no particular thoughts about it. But when I glanced at the pottery, I frowned.

“That is...”

The vase was emitting a faint glow. This didn't surprise me, as it was an instinct from my Wealthy Magnate attribute.

— Number 37, 550,000 elne! Ah, immediately, number 693. 600,000 elne!

— Number 37 again with 650,000 elne! Ah, now guest number 993!

— Ah! Now we have a bid from guest number 777 for 1.4 million elne!

It was clear. That pottery held value beyond its auction price. I could see it and feel it instinctively. This was the power of the Wealthy Magnate attribute—the so-called fate of becoming a tycoon.

Clap clap clap clap—

— Number 603, 1.5 million elne! From now on, increments are 100,000! Ah! Now, number 777!

I trusted my attribute's instinct, making this a guaranteed successful investment. Besides, I had the Midas Touch. This was an opportunity to become a true Wealthy Magnate.