The Boss Wants to Die - Chapter 47

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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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The boss wants to die.
Episode 47
“B-but my lord!”
“You’ve done more than enough already. Let me handle the rest from here.”
The Baron spoke with gentle insistence.
Eritman couldn’t bring himself to refuse what was phrased as a plea but felt unmistakably like a command, and he glanced around uncertainly.
He was soon pushed into the corner of the room.
“This is your mother’s necklace.”
Baron Roman withdrew the Locket Necklace from his pocket.
We moved closer to the Baron and examined the necklace.
Inside the locket’s lid was embedded a small crystal.
“It’s a Magic Stone—mined from only a handful of quarries. It remembers the form of the mana first poured into it, so it only glows in the hands of its rightful owner.”
“Which means.”
Michael gazed at the mysteriously luminous crystal as he spoke.
“It’s the only thing that can prove Egilpid is a fraud.”
“Exactly, Player. That’s precisely why Egilpid covets this object.”
The Baron sat down across from us, his back held rigidly straight.
“However, we are indeed the ones who issued the quest to find my mother’s necklace. Only NPCs can issue quests, after all.”
“Why did you issue a quest at all? You could have exposed yourselves.”
At Michael’s question, Baron Roman smiled bitterly.
“We hoped a powerful Player would seek us out. No matter how noble an NPC’s birth, we lack strength.”
I regarded the powerless Baron.
Listening to the scattered family affairs of NPCs torn apart by a single Player gave me an odd feeling.
‘They’re just artificial intelligence. Is it because they move and breathe like real people before my eyes that this bothers me?’
I couldn’t shake the sense that their emotions were genuine.
Eritman’s desperate struggle to save the surviving lord’s son.
Baron Roman’s disillusionment with the powerless structure of nobility, despite his high birth.
Their tangled emotions felt vivid and real.
‘At this rate, I can’t tell them apart from humans.’
I felt an unsettling revulsion at their actions.
For an AI, they’re too realistic.
How am I supposed to accept this?
“I’ve long insisted we must continuously issue quests to draw Players to us.”
With his head bowed, Baron Roman whispered in a voice dark and heavy.
“Our house has no Player. Had we even one or two, we might have built the strength to protect our family—by expanding our networks or cultivating such a Player’s growth.”
……
“But our house was not chosen, and my parents viewed Players with disdain.”
‘Not chosen?’
I found the phrasing oddly misplaced and listened more carefully to the Baron’s words.
“My parents insisted instead that we could demonstrate our strength to Players, who disrespect NPCs.”
As if to say that this was the result, Baron Roman buried his face in his hands.
“When the NPC village we were working with perished, my parents suffered tremendous shock. Naturally, they came to hate Players all the more.”
We had nothing to say.
In this world, Players were those blessed with the privilege of evading even death itself.
Whatever words we spoke would only be deception.
‘So that’s why the bonds among NPCs are so special.’
A solidarity that transcends race, nationality, and station.
NPCs were absolute underdogs.
Nothing could shield them from Players.
Had they lacked even the utility of being able to issue quests, the world would have been crueler still to them.
“We failed to keep pace with the times. An NPC who cannot nurture a Player has no hope of survival.”
Baron Roman barely collected his turbulent emotions.
He knew full well how his parents, who had looked down on Players, had fallen to ruin.
‘Perhaps he’ll become a wise lord.’
I felt a strange unease wash over me, remembering the village NPCs who watched Players’ every expression.
Could I go on treating NPCs as mere artificial constructs?
When they grieve before me so convincingly.
I glanced at Michael and Akt.
Both seemed calmer than I was, wearing the composure of Players who had long wrestled with this uncomfortable truth.
“Egilpid noticed our intentions and remained on guard. Yet strangely, he has not pursued us these past few days.”
‘That’s because he’s got his mind fixed on me.’
Egilpid, whose purpose had been to observe a variety of monsters, no longer coveted the lord’s authority.
He was probably scheming at this very moment about how to take me away.
“There is one peculiar thing, however.”
Michael tilted his head as he spoke.
“Didn’t you say the Quest was issued by you, not by Egilpid?”
“That’s right.”
“Egilpid is a false lord. Yet the Quest condition to meet Roman has been fulfilled before. How is that possible?”
Roman took a sip of the hot tea.
“There are plenty of Quests where the truth is revealed later.”
“You mean the Quest content can deceive a Player?”
“It depends on how one uses it.”
In other words, it was possible.
‘That’s quite useful information.’
I raised my eyebrows.
“Players find it enjoyable to clear Quests when they don’t know the real content until they’ve achieved it.”
Roman’s face, calling his own tragedy ‘enjoyable,’ looked absurd.
A face that could neither laugh nor cry.
He shook his head and continued.
“In any case, I wish to entrust you with my true mission.”
The moment Roman finished speaking, a hologram window shimmered into existence.
[You have completed the Secret Quest of the Locket Necklace!]
“Kill Egilpid Golzbian.”
[A new Quest has arrived!]
[The Lord’s Duty.
Roman, the true son born of noble blood, inheriting the lineage of a lord and lady.
Even a distant lord of some remote province, he alone genuinely cares for and protects his people.
Cooperate so that he may reclaim his title.
― Completion Condition: Render Egilpid Golzbian unable to fight and have him return to the Sanctuary.
― Reward: Party Points 20]
‘Twenty……!’
I clenched my fist.
Once I killed Egilpid, I could finally bring Michael’s Favorability to eighty.
Michael, unaware of the heat in my gaze, spoke with concern.
“Roman. A Player’s death isn’t real death. Once he returns and comes back to the village, what will you do then?”
“An NPC’s weapon is the Quest.”
Roman answered meaningfully.
“I plan to issue Quests in higher-tier villages. Strong Players will flock here.”
“True enough. The greatest advantage of Quests is that NPCs don’t have to prepare the rewards themselves.”
Akt murmured.
I widened my eyes in surprise.
“What? Does that mean you can just hand out Quests freely?”
As I asked, something came to mind.
‘Only the system can give each Player exactly the rewards they need.’
Party Points too.
How would a lord hand out twenty Party Points as a reward?
Roman shook his head.
“Handing out Quests carelessly isn’t possible.”
“What’s the reason?”
“There are conditions for issuing a Quest. Since they’re so random, I don’t know the exact conditions, but if the content aligns with something that can influence a Player’s ‘story,’ a Quest can apparently be issued with high probability.”
“Then you also won’t know whether you’ll be able to issue another Quest next time.”
Roman laughed softly.
It resembled the humble laugh Egilpid had been performing, though this one carried more dignity.
“A nobleman has the authority to issue one Quest unconditionally per month.”
“True. Dead Players lose all their equipped gear, so farming from scratch would take quite a while.”
With Michael nodding, Akt rose from his seat.
“Then let’s go.”
Michael glanced sidelong at Akt.
His expression was stiff.
‘Did those two fight?’
I found myself studying Akt as well, and for no reason I could name, the moment soured. I looked away.
‘What’s it to me. Some Player who’s got me on a leash.’
The atmosphere grew awkward in an instant.
Roman guided us out with the smooth courtesy of a nobleman.
We didn’t speak a word until we’d left the Information Guild.
It was Michael who broke the silence.
“I have a question for you, Akt.”
“What is it?”
Michael asked with frustration flickering across his face.
“You knew from the start that Egilpid was a fake Baron, didn’t you?”
‘Ah!’
A light suddenly switched on in my head.
I remembered Akt from when we first went to accept the Quest.
He’d made it obvious to Roman—practically broadcast it.
I recalled poking him in the ribs, asking why he was being so openly disrespectful.
‘That’s why. He already knew it was fake.’
But how did he find out?
The deception had been seamless.
The atmosphere turned strange once more.
“My intuition was simply sharp,” Akt replied calmly.
His tone was offhand.
Michael’s brow drew tight, and my own eyes narrowed to slits.
His answer wasn’t convincing.
No matter how sharp your intuition, it’s nearly impossible to divine something with mind-reading accuracy.
I looked up at Akt with eyes half-closed, watching him carefully.
‘What is he thinking?’
Akt continued walking as if he hadn’t noticed our stares, then suddenly seemed to remember something and opened his inventory.
Without thinking, I watched intently to see what he would pull out.

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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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