The Scoundrel Prince Sold Out the Empire - Chapter 18

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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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Chapter 18: The Two Zions’ Long Game (3)
Recalling the message Winter had brought moments ago, Kraeina tilted her glass slowly to her lips.
“Could you provide me with detailed information on Director Dechion and Manager Reijo?”
“His Highness has decided to commence his first business venture in Deber. In consideration of his connection with you, Kraeina, he wishes to grant you this opportunity to participate. Consider it an honor.”
Red liquid spilled from the rim of the glass, trickling steadily.
Like blood.
“The Ninth Prince. With nothing in his grasp, he turns to hunting.”
Winter had couched his demand for information about Reijo and Dechion as preparation for a business proposal, but Kraeina had already seen through his true intent.
The Ninth Prince had marked the two men as prey. He meant to consume them, fill his belly, and fashion himself a coat from their hides.
Dechion was one thing—but the other man was a businessman who had promised to sponsor her business ventures.
“An imperial pig who gorges himself on Deber’s flesh. One of the ten traitors who led the charge in selling out the nation.”
Aristh Laysial—indeed, he possessed the credentials to lead the Liberation Army in place of the young prince.
The Ninth Prince was moving precisely as the Liberation Army had predicted.
Not only must she watch the empire’s worst degenerate accumulate power, but she must actively aid him.
For it would expand her homeland’s advantage and deepen the empire’s wound.
‘Yet to offer a partnership opportunity even to a mere merchant of luxury goods… Ninth Prince, do you count me among your prey as well?’
Either way, it mattered little. Should she become his business partner and sit within arm’s reach, executing the Liberation Army’s orders would become far simpler.
Yet…
“The empire’s pig. Deber’s traitor. And the imperial house’s degenerate.”
A future where only two of the three perished would not satisfy her.
She desired to savor the downfall of all three.
‘I shall provide the information. I shall accept the partnership opportunity as well. And simultaneously… at the opportune moment, I shall expose the prince’s weakness.’
The Ninth Prince had once flaunted his wealth at Madam de Gallery, spending five million Ruwon in a single night.
But Kraeina now knew that money had come from casino winnings—Winter’s winnings.
In other words, the Ninth Prince had squandered his first lieutenant’s efforts in Deber in a single night of excess.
“Thus he must bear the consequences.”
A business venture was not merely an opportunity to earn greater profits—it was a privilege enjoyed only by those with capital.
Dechion and Reijo, men who would not yield to anyone in their appetite for wealth, would shift their stance the moment they discovered the Ninth Prince was actually penniless.
‘I shall make the two and the Ninth Prince bleed as they war with one another. And then.’
Kraeina and the Liberation Army would claim three corpses as spoils.
It would be simplicity itself.
The moment she quietly revealed the Ninth Prince’s financial straits, everything would unfold exactly as planned.
“Ninth Prince. Prepare yourself to pay the price for your bluff.”
The source of the suffering the young prince endured.
She sincerely wished for the prince’s destruction.
* * *
“Dechion! What are you doing!”
…….
“Too overjoyed to grasp the situation, it seems? Ah, but it is no dream—reality itself! You have just received the honor of a business partnership with his Highness!”
Zion cried out with hearty laughter, while internally he scoffed.
‘Total assets of one hundred million Ruwon. You sold your homeland and accumulated barely that much, Dechion. How pathetically incompetent.’
The information had come through Kraeina, so the figures regarding his wealth were certain.
The Liberation Army’s intelligence boasted one hundred percent accuracy, at least when the target was a traitor.
Why? Simple.
‘I shall seize this as an opportunity to fulfill one of my deepest wishes.’
Crown Prince Zion Blidez’s foremost ambition was to personally judge the ten traitors—five from within the palace, five from without.
‘Mere ruin is insufficient. I shall have his death, Dechion.’
His thoughts ended there. He laughed aloud once more with evident delight.
“Come to think of it, Dechion—you have not performed the gesture of obeisance? By imperial law, the minimum penalty for such an oversight would be approximately…”
Dechion, startled, dropped to his knees with a thud.
“I, a subject of the empire, stand before a member of the Divine Race.”
“Enough. Between us, there is no need for such formality. I hereby grant you the eternal privilege of dispensing with the gesture henceforth. Now then, shall we draw up a contract?”
Dechion, whose heart had burned with vengeance moments before, now stammered as he desperately sought a way to refuse without offending his master.
Nothing came to mind.
How could it? He knew nothing!
“If… if I may be so bold, Your Highness—when you speak of a business partnership, what venture do you have in mind?”
“Why, Bren Industry, of course. Director Lumio has achieved commercialization.”
“Has Lumio Bren’s Refrigeration Production Technique been perfected?”
“Precisely so. And we have you to thank for recruiting such excellent talent to our cause! Hahaha.”
Dechion’s eyes hardened.
The technology was complete—which meant that if it hadn’t been for the prince who’d slapped his cheek and burst in moments ago, Dechion could have monopolized everything himself.
‘Frustrated? Good. Let it boil over until your reason drowns in it.’
So much so that he’d want revenge on a royal prince, even with backing, and seize the entire enterprise for himself.
“You know the value of this technique well enough, having coveted it. Prepare a contract. I shall promise you an additional 1.5 times your current share—a special consideration from a prince.”
Dechion’s eyes flickered.
‘He’s starting to nibble. Isn’t he?’
If you multiplied Dechion’s current share—accumulated through funding Bren Industry all this time—by 1.5, it came to roughly fifty-six or fifty-seven percent.
In other words, he could seize operational control of Bren Industry outright.
Sure enough, once Dechion finished his calculations, he was visibly brimming with private triumph.
Doubtless he was thinking the fool prince before him knew nothing of the newly enacted laws governing business management rights.
‘Well, I didn’t know either before Winter explained it. What use is such knowledge to someone who isn’t even a businessman?’
He had no intention of learning more. The right hand he’d acquired by pure chance happened to be something of an expert in precisely these matters—fortunate indeed.
‘I’d only meant to educate some back-alley gambler, but it turned out the wretch had studied modern subjects and even attended university. Luck truly smiles on me.’
Thus Zion’s sole role was to actually complete the Refrigeration Production Technique—which Dechion was bluffing as finished but which remained incomplete.
“Your Highness, 1.5 times my share is an extraordinarily generous offer. However… considering the money and time I’ve invested in Bren Industry, and given recent events, I confess I’m reluctant to pursue this further without… well, additional consideration—”
Dechion droned on and on.
In essence: he wanted a larger share.
He’d convinced himself the prince was naive about how the world worked, based on that 1.5 multiplier.
“I’d gladly offer more if I could, but even a prince can’t conduct business arbitrarily. There are two other partners involved, so I’m afraid that’s impossible.”
“Pardon? This isn’t solely a venture between myself and Your Highness?”
“Good things must be shared. I’ve promised a combined 25% share to Reijo, an Imperial businessman, and Kraeina, a charming widowed noblewoman.”
The matter with Reijo and Kraeina was already settled, in fact.
Assuming Lumio Bren’s technology was complete, their participation was a partnership with nothing to lose—naturally they’d agreed.
Reijo had even gone so far as to desperately claw for a larger stake.
“Is that so? Your Highness, what if we arranged it thus?”
Dechion’s mind raced swiftly, calculating that some margin of shares remained, and he launched into negotiation.
Zion feigned reluctance and let himself be drawn in.
“Remarkable. Director Dechion, your business acumen is truly impressive. Very well—I shall promise you a clean 60%. Furthermore, I’ll permit you to set collateral from your investment capital against other assets.”
Dechion’s face brightened.
He’d lost the prize he’d have claimed entirely had the prince not intervened—a wound he’d nurse and eventually avenge—but acquiring 60% without immediate outlay more than compensated for it. The balance had shifted favorably enough.
“Let’s draw up the contract at once, Your Highness. You there! Fetch the contract papers!”
A blank contract arrived via his subordinate. Dechion seized a fountain pen and swiftly filled in the terms.
“I’m deeply grateful for such a generous proposal, Your Highness. Kehehehe. Once the contract is notarized, might we celebrate at a fine establishment?”
While Dechion smiled pleasantly on the surface, darkness brewed beneath.
‘So the loss is somewhat offset—yet the profit I’d have claimed is still diminished by your interference. A price must be paid, Prince. You called me common, did you not? I shall see the noble Divine Race brought low, reduced to begging a base-born Deberian wretch. That humiliation shall be yours.’
The scratch of pen on paper rang out—a sound that would later tighten into a noose around Dechion’s own throat, though he’d never know it.
“I’ll record Your Highness’s investment capital at the agreed amount.”
“Do so.”
The truth was, Zion possessed no investment capital whatsoever.
He’d boasted of vast sums to Dechion, but every word was a lie—calculated to extract maximum concessions and trap him in the snare of contract law.
‘Once he realizes, I’ll have already blown his head clean off.’
“Ah, one more thing. For the collateral against my investment, would shares in another enterprise be acceptable?”
“Only if the enterprise is expected to appreciate in value.”
Dechion nodded at the condition.
“Of course. Let me see… would a stake in Brown Defense suffice?”
Zion’s eyes sharpened with intensity.
Brown Defense. Its formal name on the Securities Exchange was the Brown Company.
The very enterprise mentioned in a branching-point scene.
“You hold shares in the Brown Company?”
* * *
A letter arrived by courier. Lumio swallowed hard, trembling fingers brushing his lips.
「As planned, please visit His Highness at six o’clock today.」
Lumio understood considerable portions of the prince’s scheme.
Winter had explained in detail how matters would unfold to guarantee both Lumio’s revenge and profit.
“Phew…”
A sigh of relief.
He’d thought merely surviving was the best outcome possible. Never did he imagine events would unfold so perfectly.
Yet caution remained essential.
His counterpart was notorious as the Empire’s worst scoundrel—or rather, as His Highness, a prince.
‘If I’m even a moment late, he might strip me of every share I possess.’
Lumio hastily gathered the key documents and valuables, stuffing them all into a briefcase.
Essentially everything that could be considered Bren Industry’s assets—including the crown jewel itself.
‘I wonder how much of my share he’ll actually leave me….’
Throughout the entire journey to the hotel where the prince was staying, one worry gnawed at Lumio’s mind.
Things had gone well enough, but whether his actual gains would grow was an entirely different matter.
‘Against President Dechion, at least I could push back a little. But the prince….’
He would have to accept whatever pittance was thrown his way with gratitude and retreat.
If he wanted to survive the Empire’s worst wretch.
Lumio brushed away the goosebumps rising on his forearms.
‘That violence. That presence.’
The day the prince had struck Dechion’s cheek.
Even now, remembering that moment made Lumio’s knees go weak.
The brutal charisma the prince had radiated then was simply overwhelming.
To earn such an infamy as the Empire’s worst, this was surely the standard one had to meet.
‘Lumio. Get yourself together. Even if the prince doesn’t give you a single share, you cannot show disappointment.’
By the time he’d steadied himself, he was already standing before the prince’s suite.
With trembling fingers, he pressed the bell.
“Enter, Lumio.”
A seven-story hotel—quite luxurious. Against the backdrop of the glittering night view framed by expansive windows, the prince stood with a drink in hand.
Without thinking, Lumio dropped to his knees.
Though courtesy demanded it, this time his body had reacted purely to the prince’s overwhelming presence.
“As a subject of the Empire bowing before one of the Divine Race….”
“Enough. Since we’re now business partners, dispense with all bows going forward. I permit it.”
What Lumio could never have known
was that the exemption from bowing stemmed from his nationality.
“Let’s get straight to business then. You must be curious about your share. I’ll tell you now.”
Lumio swallowed hard.
Simply keeping his life was fortune enough, but Bren Industry was born from a treasure stumbled upon twenty years ago—a company and technology to which he had devoted every year since.
He wanted proper compensation for his efforts, and this desire was precisely why meek-natured Lumio had resisted Dechion’s oppression to the end.
“Your stake is fourteen percent.”
“Y-yes? Fourteen percent?!”
Fourteen percent? Fourteen percent?
Having heard Winter explain the intricacies of shareholding, he understood immediately how substantial that figure was.
“But wouldn’t that mean Your Highness would hold only one to three percent?”
“Are you in a position to worry about another’s share? I’ll secure my own portion—don’t concern yourself.”
As Zion finished speaking, a smile crossed his face. Lumio, unbidden, thought to himself:
A smile worn as if generous, yet the mouth twisted wickedly beneath.
The prince was undoubtedly harboring some sinister intent.
His eyes magnified behind his glasses, Zion continued.
“There is something I want instead of the share, Lumio.”
So the prince revealed his true colors after all.
“The source of the technology you developed. It must be the Ice Essence, isn’t it?”
‘H-how could he…!’
Lumio felt cold sweat trickling down his back.
The Ice Essence—or more precisely, the refined form of chilling-attribute Mana.
An exceedingly rare, supreme-grade Magic Stone.
Its value varies by the embedded Mana characteristics and pattern, but all such refined essences share the common trait of being so extraordinarily rare that even seeing one is difficult.
In truth, the prince’s objective had been this Mana essence—the one Lumio had secretly possessed—from the very beginning.
“Hand over the Ice Essence, Lumio. That is the price I demand.”
‘So that’s it. The prince was going to take the shares and seize even more than that.’
The source of twenty years of devoted research. Surrendering the Ice Essence would be like placing a leash in his hands.
Bren Industry’s Refrigeration Production Technique remains incomplete. For commercialization, the Mana pattern of the Ice Essence must be perfectly interpreted and applied.
‘Why now, of all times? Had it been after completion, I could have given it freely without regret.’
His hands trembled. He wanted to refuse. Yet refusal was impossible.
Steeped in helplessness, Lumio muttered silently to himself:
The intangible pressure the prince exerted was incomparable to someone like Dechion.
For a moment he had dreamed of happiness. Now it was time to wake.
Lumio’s fate had always been to surrender everything to the prince.
“Oh, right. Take this.”
The prince carelessly tossed a document, its first page bearing these words:
“Supplementary Theory for the Commercialization of Bren Industry’s Refrigeration Production Technique”
“Huh!?”
Lumio pressed his nose against the document. Standing before a prince, he could only skim it hastily, yet there was no doubt in his mind.
Bren Industry’s proprietary technology had just been completed.
“What’s the matter? Hand over the Ice Essence, I said. Surely you’re not refusing the honor of presenting a treasure to this prince?”
“I’ll bring it at once, Your Highness!”
With this document alone, there was no further need for the Ice Essence.

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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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