The classic model of wealth could be summed up in two words: inheritance and succession. Whether royalty or nobility, wealth was handed down from the parent generation, and the lifelong goal was to pass that wealth on to the next generation. Status and resources were all transferred within the boundaries of inheritance and succession, making it nearly impossible for those without “good blood” to acquire wealth. Even those born with good blood who failed to inherit properly found themselves in the same situation.

But now, the once impenetrable facade of wealth had developed cracks, and some had managed to exploit those cracks. The people who had managed to squeeze through these cracks shared one common characteristic—they tended to disregard conventions and rules.

Simon’s gaze shifted to the person sitting at the head of the table. There sat a man who had, through his own life, ripped apart the very notions of convention and rules. He was a man who had refused to attend the academy that every noble was expected to attend and instead descended to the very bottom, climbing up to the top with bloodied hands, and would not be satisfied until he reached the peak.

Oscar leaned back in his chair, a cigarette in his mouth. His shirt was already unbuttoned a few notches, and empty bottles of liquor lined up around him. One of his legs, hidden by the luxurious table, was likely draped lazily over the other.

“Your Excellency, thank you so much,” said the man who had secured the contract from Oscar, bowing so deeply his head nearly touched the table. “I will never forget your grace.”

Oscar chuckled at his words. “Grace? It’s just business; both sides get what they want, right?”

The man who had nearly prostrated himself at the table’s edge lifted his head and laughed, excusing himself from the room shortly after that.

Simon watched the man’s movement with only his eyes before returning his gaze to Oscar.

“……”

Indeed, Oscar was not in a good mood. There had been a strange restlessness in him all day. It wasn’t excitement but the sensation of something irritating and bothersome sitting in the back of his mind.

Simon quietly glanced down at his watch to check the time. Fortunately, the day was coming to an end. When the other man returned, he would smoothly intervene and end the meeting, and then they could return to the mansion. Whatever was occupying Oscar’s mind, it seemed time was what he needed to resolve it internally or command Simon to take care of it.

However, Simon had overlooked one thing. The people who had squeezed through the cracks in the wealth structure tended to disregard conventions and rules. The man who had just been in the room was one of those people.

The man, who had excused himself for a moment, was waiting with a flushed face, and his assistant looked uneasy.

“His Excellency’s secretary clearly stated that tonight was strictly for business,” the assistant said, trying to persuade his superior once more.

“Yeah, yeah,” the man replied carelessly as he lit a cigarette, a sly grin spreading across his face.

“Everything has already gone well; there’s no need to complicate things now,” the assistant persisted.

The man smirked as he exhaled smoke. “I’ve never seen anyone refuse entertainment on the way up. Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just getting started. For that, we need something like this.”

He grinned wickedly and waved a hand behind his assistant. The assistant turned to see a group of beautiful women making their way across the hotel’s elegantly furnished lounge.

The man thought to himself that business was conducted by people at the end of the day, and there was nothing as irrational as humans. How many times had he participated in or received such entertainment on his way up? If he could find a woman who suited the Marquis’s taste tonight, it would be as much of a victory as securing the contract itself.

The assistant, seeing his superior was not convinced, stepped back, and the man turned back toward the room where Oscar waited. A strange mixture of fear and exhilaration ran through him. The more intense the sensation, the more he straightened his posture and smiled. Before his hesitation could take hold, he knocked on the door.

“May I come in?”

He opened the door, and as he stepped inside, Simon, who had been looking for the right moment to wrap things up, cursed silently. They were so close to just ending the night with a polite farewell, but now this fool had to go and complicate things.