ISEKAI? More like I See Crap!-Chapter 74: Opportunities in the Shadows ( )

The noble slowly sank into his lavish armchair, his frustration now replaced by a sinister smirk.

"Do tell me..." he murmured, resting his chin against his intertwined fingers.

The butler bowed slightly, his expression unreadable.

"All we need, my lord, is the man’s description," he said smoothly.

"One of the captured assassins will surely have seen him. We simply need to bribe a guard—nothing too difficult."

The noble chuckled, swirling the wine in his glass.

"Oh... that’s a good idea." He took a slow sip, then raised a brow. "But what if they ask for our help?"

The butler understood his master’s concern. The captured assassins—fools who had failed him—would likely beg for assistance once they realized they were being used as mere tools.

He exhaled softly, brushing invisible dust off his sleeve.

"Do not concern yourself with that, my lord. I will handle it... properly."

The noble’s smirk widened.

"Good. Make sure this is dealt with cleanly."

"As you command, my lord."

The noble’s smirk faded the moment he heard the approaching footsteps.

"Ah... Duke Belard," a smooth, honeyed voice called out.

The duke clicked his tongue, his expression darkening.

This damn marquis...

With a practiced, polite smile, Duke Belard turned to greet the unwelcome guest. Standing before him was Marquis Reynard, draped in extravagant silk and embroidered gold—a man known not only for his influence but for his deceptive charm.

"Marquis Reynard," Duke Belard replied curtly.

The marquis returned a warm yet insincere smile, stepping forward with calculated ease.

"Such a shame, isn’t it?" he sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. "The beautiful Princess Ellyna... back in the kingdom, yet so many have failed to bring her where she belongs."

Belard’s fingers tightened over the armrest of his chair.

This bastard...

He knew damn well the marquis was after her too. But like a vulture circling its prey, he pretended to be an ally.

Belard forced a chuckle, masking his irritation.

"Indeed... such a shame," he said, feigning indifference.

Reynard’s smirk widened, his sharp eyes observing the duke’s every reaction.

"But tell me, Duke Belard..." His voice lowered, laced with hidden meaning.

"Surely a man of your... influence has a plan to remedy this situation?"

The air between them grew heavy. Duke Belard smiled, hiding the storm behind his eyes.

"Why, Marquis Reynard..." he said, swirling his wine glass.

"Wouldn’t you like to know?"

"Ah, no, no..." Marquis Reynard chuckled, waving his hand dismissively.

"I just came here for a drink. After all, you did invite me for a chat, did you not?"

Duke Belard raised a brow, swirling the wine in his glass lazily.

"Ah... right. How could I forget?" he replied, his tone neutral yet laced with unspoken nuance. "Apologies, Marquis Reynard... I’ve been so terribly busy."

Duke Belard words dipped in veiled mockery, spoken with flawless grace.

The marquis smirked knowingly, taking a seat without waiting for permission.

"Ah, no need to trouble yourself with apologies, Duke Belard," he said smoothly, as if he hadn’t caught the slight. "I understand completely. After all... matters of importance must always take precedence."

Duke Belard took a slow sip of his wine, masking his amusement.This bastard plays the game well.

"Indeed," the duke mused, his eyes sharp as ever. "And yet, here you are... making time to visit me."

The marquis chuckled, placing his glass down.

"Well... who could resist the pleasure of your company, Duke Belard?"

Their eyes met—two men smiling, yet neither truly amused.

Inside Reynard’s mind, By the look of this stupid duke, I’m sure he already knows Princess Ellyna is back in the kingdom. But... how much does he truly know?

The two nobles chatted casually, their conversation drifting from politics to trade, discussing matters that would seem mundane to any eavesdropper. Yet, beneath the surface, both were measuring each other.

Reynard sipped his wine, keeping his expression smooth.

It seems he already knows about the Pinky Promise Oath, huh? That sacred, unbreakable vow—a binding curse that no one could challenge.

He carefully observed Duke Belard’s posture, his words, his slight smirks.

Yes... he knows.

Reynard hid his irritation behind another polite smile.

Well then... let’s hope my shadow unit can collect the information faster than his. Because in this game, whoever learns the truth first... wins.

After an evening of fine wine, strategic words, and veiled threats, Marquis Reynard finally rose from his seat.

"Well then, Duke Belard, as always, a pleasure," he said with a polite smile.

Duke Belard lifted his glass in response.

"The pleasure is all mine, Marquis Reynard."

Lies. Neither of them enjoyed the other’s company. But in the world of nobles, words meant nothing—only results mattered.

With grace befitting his rank, Reynard was escorted outside. His carriage, an extravagant display of wealth, awaited him at the estate’s grand entrance. He climbed in, reclining with a satisfied smirk as the carriage began to move, rolling smoothly down the noble district’s cobbled road.

Then, without warning, the carriage slowed.

Reynard’s smirk widened.

Ah. Right on time.

From the shadows, figures emerged, cloaked in darkness and unseen by common eyes. His personal shadow unit.

Without a word, Reynard gave a subtle signal. The carriage handler snapped the reins, and the horses resumed their steady pace.

"Not here," Reynard murmured, his voice low, calm, and absolute.

The leader of the shadows nodded, stepping onto the moving carriage with fluid precision.

"As you wish, my lord," the masked figure said, taking a seat across from him.

Reynard tapped his fingers idly against the polished wooden armrest of his carriage, his gaze sharp and expectant.

"So? What have you gathered?"

The leader of his shadow unit bowed slightly, voice calm and precise.

"My lord, it appears that Duke Belard’s butler is preparing for a trip—to Yumia Town."

Reynard raised an eyebrow.

"Yumia? That insignificant human town on the border? What could possibly interest Duke Belard there?"

The shadow leader remained composed.

"It seems, my lord, that some of Duke Belard’s hired assassins were captured by the local guards."

Reynard scoffed.

"Ha! So much for their so-called ’elite’ assassin unit." He shook his head in amusement. "And? What’s so interesting about a few failures getting caught?"

The shadow leader’s lips curled into a knowing smirk.

"According to our sources, their interrogation will focus on one particular subject—the man who made the Pinky Promise Oath with Princess Ellyna."

Silence filled the carriage. Reynard’s smirk slowly widened.

"Oho... Now that’s interesting. So if we uncover the identity of this ’lucky bastard’... we gain leverage, don’t we?"

The shadow leader nodded.

"Not just leverage, my lord. As you know, the Pinky Promise Oath is unbreakable—unless one of the pair dies. Naturally, the princess is off-limits... so their plan is simple: eliminate the man."

Reynard leaned forward slightly, his expression unreadable.

"Tell me... do you and your team think you can intervene?"

The shadow leader grinned darkly.

"Of course, my lord. The only question is—how much do you want to know... and how much do you want to control?"

Reynard let out a low chuckle.

"Let’s start by gathering everything. I want to know who he is, where he is, and just how much of a threat—or an opportunity—he might be."

His eyes gleamed with dangerous intent.

"And once we have that information... we’ll decide whether to eliminate him—or make him useful."

( End of Chapter )