A few minutes earlier –
Mizel Scarlet, nicknamed “Golden Hands”. The reason why he was given that name, was because whatever he touched, supposedly turned into gold. This was a lie of course, otherwise he would have died a long time ago. However, the point was, he could make money out of anything he laid his hands on.
Now, Mizel had a frown on his face. The youngest son of the lord of the Southern Region, wastrel of the region, laughing stock of the small town he had been banished to, actually had a business proposition.
Mizel did not believe this, he wasn’t stupid. Everyone else said so.
“Is everything alright, master?” his servant asked.
“What do you think of the young lord?”
“He seemed very strange. When he came in, he didn’t ask about the merchandise straight away. That’s usually the only reason why he visits us, so I didn’t understand why he was suddenly looking for clothes”, the servant commented. He continued, “He also came in wearing humble clothing.”
“That is very strange indeed”, Mizel replied. His frown deepened. “Do you think that girl will be able to carry out the task?”
The servant looked like he was thinking. “She has never failed once, master. Do not forget, she once killed the man she called master. The same man who taught her the art of the blade.”
“Yes, she did. However, I feel that something horribly wrong is going to happen, but I cannot predict what it is. Send someone after her, to make sure she completes the task!”
The servant bowed slightly, and then left.
****
It was now at night. Arthur had more problems, and the lighting wasn’t making his life any easier. The hallways were dimly lit by the chandeliers, which, to Arthur, did not make much sense.
Once he reached his room, he began to recall everything he had learnt that day. So, last night he went to bed as Grant Halloway, having concluded a deal with a biographer, to have the poor dude write a book about him.
When he woke up, he was in the body of Arthur Lovewood, wastrel young son of the lord of the Southern region. This wastrel son was fat and had a problem of erectile dysfunction. He was also hated by everyone in the small town, whose name he had forgotten. That seemed like the least problem to Grant Halloway, former billionaire and playboy. He didn’t give a shit about the town, or the people in it.
In terms of family, the wastrel was currently alone in the town. Apparently, this fat idiot had tried to take over his older brother’s position, but after failing dismally, he had been banished by his father to the small, useless town. He was not allowed to return to his father’s house.
Upon arriving, the wastrel had made friends with the clothing merchant, Mizel Scarlet. The merchant provided the idiot with slaves … women slaves … for his “enjoyment”, as well as exquisite wines from the East. The only reason why they remained “friends” was because Mizel provided entertainment for the idiot.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
All this information had been provided by the butler, whose name Arthur didn’t know, and hadn’t bothered to ask. For some reason, when asked about the other business by Mizel’s servant, Arthur hadn’t put it into his head, and when they arrived at the basement, he confirmed it was true.
With a sigh, he began to lament his fortune… eh … even though he didn’t have any. It was simply misfortune from here on. To make matters worse, the stupid Arthur was super broke. How, you ask? When he was banished, he was given only ten gold coins by his father, and a butler to keep the coin. However, the idiot spent most of the coins on booze and slaves.
Another issue was, as Grant Halloway, he understood finance of annual recurring revenue, and net profits, and expenses, and fixed assets, and current liabilities. All of these were denominated in dollars, not gold coins. So, how much was these fucking gold coins worth in dollars anyways?
There was a shallow knock on the door. Arthur rose and walked to the door slowly. His weight was a problem, and he vowed to get rid of it … at some point.
He opened the door, and waiting for him with wide eyes, was the girl who was being sold as merchandise earlier. She was being accompanied by the butler … so why the knock?
After opening the door, the woman entered, and the butler bowed slightly before turning and leaving. Arthur was a bit confused. What was he supposed to do now? If he was the old version of himself, like version 1.0, he would have done something horrible obviously. However, he was version 2.0 … a very confused, newer version of himself. A different version actually. And this version didn’t know what to do.
“Good evening young lord. What would you have me do to make your evening enjoyable?” the young lady asked. She clearly didn’t know what she was saying and she definitely didn’t seem to be enjoying it. Everything seemed forced, and very much fake.
Arthur frowned. Well, it didn’t hurt to confirm one more time. Maybe the engine needed a bit of tuning before getting to work. “Take off your clothes.”
The girl frowned, but then, biting her lower lip, she complied. She slowly took off her red dress.
It was then that Arthur noticed something peculiar about the young lady. She had a scar on her shoulder, and the scar looked like a mark of sorts. Eh … he got distracted … He continued looking down, and even then, there was silence from the engine. It was completely dead. No signs of life whatsoever. How the fuck had this happened?
As he was still wondering what the fuck was going on, a small knife was put on his throat.
“I will have you humiliate me no longer!” the young lady declared.
Arthur gulped. Right, she was well versed with the blade. That’s what slave trader dude had said. “Before we start threatening each other, let’s calm down and--”
The knife was pressed deeply against Arthur’s flesh. This probably wouldn’t end happily. Suddenly, the engine was now the least of his problems. “I know who sent you!” Arthur suddenly blurted.
The young lady frowned, and the grip on the knife was loosened. “Do you? Who is it?”
“Who else, if not a certain slave trader?”
The frown on the young lady deepened. “Well, knowing will do you no good, young lord. I wish you a happy life in the next world!”
“Wait wait wait… Before you kill me, would you like to make a deal with me? Rather, let’s make a bet … or wager …” Arthur gulped again. This normally worked in movies. When actually was the last time he went to watch a movie, come to think of it?
“What wager?” the young lady frowned … it seemed that’s all she knew how to do … and she could do it very well.
“If you kill me, you’re going to die. However, if you don’t kill me, you’ll have a chance to live!” okay … that sounded weird.
The young lady laughed as if she’d heard the funniest thing in the world. In a sense it was funny, but Arthur was sure it wasn’t the funniest thing in the world.
“What makes you think that?” the young assassin asked.
“Do you think he’s going to let you walk away after killing the lord’s son? Nope. If I were him, I’d send someone after you to make sure the job is done properly, and then I’d get you arrested as suspect for killing the lord’s son. I’d then tell the lord about you, and then send your dead body to pacify the lord”, Arthur spoke. Who knew watching so many movies came in handy?
As he finished speaking, an arrow flew through the window, breaking glass, and lodging itself inside Arthur’s left shoulder. Blood spluttered, and Arthur fell backwards. So much for movies.