I Was Hired by the Black-Minded Prince for My Life's Ransom - Chapter 62

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 62. Three-Way Confrontation
Isolated Palace Outside the Imperial Court.
“Hack… hack…!”
Nike Ozwald trembled as searing pain tore through his throat.
Matted with sweat, strands of pure white hair clung to his face in disarray.
Thud.
The man’s body crumpled weakly to the floor.
His trembling hands possessed no strength at all.
Pain like tearing flesh crawled upward from his fingertips.
“Gasp…!”
He clenched his teeth, but it made no difference.
Since his survival, every moment of his life had been agony.
A sensation as though his flesh were being gnawed away from inside his lungs.
His ribs screamed with each breath he drew.
Pain was familiar, yet never dulled.
Each moment brought only suffering.
“Hah… hah…”
He laughed bitterly at himself.
“It seems to be getting worse again lately.”
Coughing erupted at the end of his laugh.
Cough, cough!
Blood stained the back of his hand.
It had been fifteen years since everyone in the 5th Palace Complex save Nike had fallen into Eternal Sleep due to the manifestation of an unknown Curse.
Nike had spent ten years in a half-dead state.
A life in which he could not even rise from his bed.
Contrary to what the palace attendants had said—that he would die soon—he had improved, however slightly, and only recently managed to stand on his own two feet.
Compared to those bygone days when being alive felt like hell itself, this was nothing, yet no words could ease the pain.
“Sigh…”
He leaned his back against the wall and exhaled a long breath.
The taste of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth was metallic.
“Is anyone there?”
He called out, but no answer came.
This, too, was familiar.
Smirk.
Nike twisted his lips in self-mockery.
Though it was called the First Prince’s Palace, this place was truly a place of exile.
A space forgotten and abandoned by all, visited only by a handful of servants who cleaned it.
“Is the Curse so frightening?”
They feared it might spread, so they could not bear to face him.
He was not particularly sad about it.
He had been alone too long for that.
‘…Only that pink-haired maid spoke with me without such prejudice. I find myself thinking of her.’
He pushed himself up against the wall, swaying.
His legs barely obeyed him as he crawled toward the medicine cabinet.
A single Herbal Pill from the mountain of them stacked there.
“No matter when I take it, it never tastes better.”
As he chewed and swallowed the black bead-like pill, bitterness spread throughout his mouth.
After a moment, his breathing finally began to settle.
“Phew…”
He took a deep breath and slumped into a chair.
At least he had the medicine. That much was a mercy.
Compared to those old days when he had to endure it raw, this was nothing.
Feeling his heartbeat gradually stabilize, Nike closed his eyes.
It was at that very moment he sought to rest.
“Well, well, taking that cursed Herbal Pill again, I see.”
Bang!
The door was thrust open roughly.
“How pitiful you are, brother.”
It was Kitten Ozwald.
He walked into the room without bothering to hide his sneer.
Nike raised his gaze slowly.
“What’s wrong?”
“You don’t know?”
“From your expression, I think I do.”
Exhale.
Nike drew another deep breath.
His manner suggested he couldn’t be bothered with Kitten’s mood.
Kitten’s face twisted like a demon’s.
“I did exactly what you said, and all it did was hand more favors to Yurian!”
“Just as I thought.”
“…Just as you thought?”
Hahahaha!
The second prince burst into loud laughter.
“Is that all you have to say? Your entire plan has fallen apart!”
Heavy footsteps trampled across the room as he strode in.
He made no attempt to conceal his rage.
“Do you have any idea how much a mansion costs?”
“Not particularly.”
“Damn it, a million gold. A full million gold!”
Bang!
He kicked a chair away in his irritation.
The first prince watched the chair fly past him calmly, then poured tea into his cup.
Such tantrums were beneath his notice.
“It could be worse. One of the three nobles has switched sides.”
“Why? Did they say they couldn’t trust you?”
“They said they couldn’t trust me. Haha!”
Kitten gnashed his teeth.
A third of the nobles who had supported the second prince’s faction had defected.
It was a crushing blow to him.
“Lost money, lost your support base. Meanwhile, Yurian became a hero.”
“Don’t even start.”
“Damn it, yes! Again! Again everything’s gone his way, that bastard’s way!”
As if he were blessed by the gods themselves.
Kitten muttered this through gritted teeth as he threw himself into a chair.
He then grabbed the tea Nike had poured and drained it in several gulps.
Nike watched him for a long moment before taking a sip of his own tea.
Then he spoke calmly.
“But it’s not my fault things turned out this way. It’s your own tools that failed you.”
“…Damn it, that cursed Kyle.”
The second prince’s breathing grew ragged.
The mere thought of it seemed to inflame him.
Kyle Ozwald. The fourth prince.
When Kitten learned that the fourth son—the wretched creature who had begged for his life, promising to obey any command—was the one who had blown up the mansion, his blood pressure spiked so violently he thought he’d collapse.
The slip of paper he’d extracted through pressure on the Imperial Defense Corps bore unmistakably Kyle’s handwriting.
“He vanished without a trace?”
“Don’t even mention that man.”
Soldiers were scouring the land for him, but the fourth prince had disappeared completely—whether he’d ascended to heaven or descended into the earth, no one could say.
As if he’d been waiting for this very moment all along.
Kitten pressed his forehead and leaned back.
Looking back, this plan had been doomed from the start.
“About Yurian’s servant, my brother. You said you met her.”
“Yes.”
An interesting subject.
The first prince’s half-closed eyes opened.
“You mean Vanillin?”
“She was anything but ordinary.”
“…Really?”
Nike’s body leaned forward slightly.
But Kitten, unaware of this shift, rubbed his brow and continued.
“She appeared to be concealing extraordinary power.”
“Extraordinary Strength? That frail little thing?”
“To be precise, Extraordinary Strength is the better term. She had enough force to push back the knights we sent to abduct her and escape.”
That was why they’d resorted to mentioning Yurian’s name when they kidnapped her.
They’d wanted to save that as a last resort, worried the trail might lead back to them.
At that, Nike laughed as if intrigued.
“That turned out well. She’ll serve me faithfully if I keep her nearby.”
“You seem to be mistaken, but she’s not your servant. She’s Yurian’s personal maid.”
“Right, I know. I want her anyway.”
Cough, cough.
Kitten narrowed his eyes, watching Nike answer so casually between coughs.
This is why he disliked the man.
He had the face of a scholar, yet sometimes he said the most chilling things.
As though it were nothing at all.
Sip.
Nike drank his tea with elegant composure.
“So, what happened to her?”
“Who knows? Caught in the explosion—dead, alive, or half-crippled. Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Pity. I’d hoped she’d only be slightly injured.”
Hmm.
A servant with injuries would likely be cast aside.
And that was when Nike planned to scoop her up.
Kitten clicked his tongue.
It was precisely the sort of calculation one would expect from someone with Ozwald blood.
‘I should leave.’
As he thought this and drained the last of his tea in one gulp—
Knock, knock.
A measured knock sounded from beyond the door.
And then—
“Vanillin, fortunately, was unharmed.”
A familiar voice settled into his ears.
The third prince of House Ozwald.
Yurian entered with a faint smile on his face.
The Second Prince’s expression crumpled in an instant.
“You….”
“Thanks to this incident, our bond has only grown stronger. Truly, a fortunate turn of events.”
Scrape.
Without so much as glancing at Kitten, Yurian sat down across from Nike.
Was he provoking them?
No—the third prince was too guileless, too kind-hearted for that.
Nike regarded him for a moment, then tapped his teacup lightly.
“Well, that’s reassuring. I was worried.”
Ripples spread across the surface of the tea.
Was this regret, or obsession?
Yurian studied Nike with a measured gaze, then his eyes widened suddenly.
“It seems you were just discussing the Pleasure Party.”
“How dare you—!”
“I would like a Permission Certificate to enter Lanslot Duke’s Estate.”
The Second Prince lunged forward, his expression darkening, but Yurian’s words came faster.
He looked at Kitten, then at Nike, and continued at a measured pace.
“It appears the Fourth Prince has fled there.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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