The Villainess Builds a Department Store - Chapter 63

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Villainess Establishes a Department Store

Chapter 63

A few days ago, Mother finally shed tears. Though I didn’t witness her crying, when I went to greet her in the morning, her eyes were red and swollen, and her voice was hoarse and dampened.

If Father’s karma accumulates any further, this world’s narrative will transform into Father’s tale of regret. That absolutely cannot happen.

“Father said the medicinal herb he saw was definitely real. But there’s no guarantee that the herbs to follow will also be genuine…”

“Adelaide. Do you also think that’s ordinary ginseng?”

“Pardon?”

Guillaume half-reclined on the sofa and waved his hand through the air.

“Wild ginseng. That bastard Philippe is going around bragging that it’s wild ginseng. If it were regular ginseng, well, it wouldn’t be entirely impossible. That is, if he’s planning to rob the ginseng warehouse strictly managed by the Gawri Royal Family and escalate things into an international dispute.”

Guillaume sighed deeply while casually discussing such terrible matters.

“But wild ginseng is different. Wild ginseng is… well, it refers to ginseng that grew in the wild, with an entire mountain’s spiritual energy condensed in its roots. It’s such a precious medicinal herb that rumors say it can even revive the dead. Even in Gawri, only the king consumes it, and I’ve never seen the real thing myself. How could that bastard possibly obtain it! If you think about it even a little, it’s obviously a scam…”

Do you think I’ve only known that bastard Philippe for a year or two? Guillaume exploded in frustration. Then he gulped down the cold water placed in front of him. No wonder they served cold water instead of tea when he arrived—it was for this purpose.

“By the way, I heard those people will be participating in an Eastern art auction soon. Have you heard any news about it?”

“That’s exactly why Port Nantes is in an uproar. With rumors of an unprecedented scale, all the merchants at Pearl Gallery have bloodshot eyes and are frantically trying to obtain invitations.”

“Invitations?”

Whew. Guillaume let out a long sigh. It wasn’t his usual exaggerated gesture made playfully, but genuine sorrow rising from deep within his belly.

“Only nobles can receive invitations.”

“Good heavens…”

“Well, if one wanted to obtain an invitation, it’s not entirely impossible.”

This man may not look it, but he’s better than most nobles. Guillaume added with a sly smile.

“…How about responding to fraud with fraud?”

“Adele?”

Just then, a good idea occurred to me.

“Let’s set a trap.”

“A trap?”

I nodded. Setting traps was a despicable method Alain Lemur frequently used.

“We’ll mix forgeries among the auction items.”

Since trust is most important for merchants, Guillaume’s expression darkened at the mention of forgeries.

“If we expose that they’re forgeries, we can question the security during transport. If we fail to expose them…”

“It would be an unparalleled opportunity to bring people to their senses. But how do you plan to switch them? And where will you get the forgeries?”

“Do we necessarily need to switch them?”

“What?”

Switching isn’t a bad method. As long as we don’t get caught. But if someone with a keen eye notices differences from the originals, it would be troublesome.

Wouldn’t it be better to just send in fakes from the beginning?

“Adding one more auction item shouldn’t be a big problem.”

Guillaume still looked like he didn’t understand what I was saying.

“Guillaume. Do you happen to have any spare paintings in the warehouse? Would you consider selling me one?”

Since this is all for Father’s sake, please bill Father for the painting.

* * *

Late in the afternoon after Adelaide left, Guillaume was about to plan in earnest when he put down his pen.

Since he had already put down his pen, he stretched, and perhaps due to his age, his body ached everywhere. As Guillaume patted his shoulders, he covered his eyes entirely and rubbed his tired eyelids and face.

Then Adelaide’s image, firmly etched as if carved beneath his eyelids, came vividly to mind.

Guillaume unconsciously chuckled and shook his head. Indeed, blood cannot be deceived—Adelaide, who had looked straight at him while explaining her mental plan, was the spitting image of her father.

No, considering her age, she was far superior to her father. He had known for some time that she was different from ordinary children, but he hadn’t expected her to be this exceptional. Perhaps she takes after her mother?

About to swallow his joke, Guillaume sighed deeply again. Speaking of which, his own son Felix also resembled his mother, but the boy was too busy catching up to others’ level, let alone following Adelaide’s lead.

At least he came to his senses, albeit late. Guillaume tried to soothe his bitterness.

Come to think of it, that too was thanks to Adelaide.

Since that day when they tearfully reunited with the broken gramophone, Felix had noticeably changed.

Now, years later, it had become natural for him to speak affectionately to his father first, associate with good friends, and put effort into his studies.

It was truly miraculous.

So such a miracle would come to Charles as well.

He recalled Charles, who had asked if Guillaume was jealous of his noble status, only to immediately show signs of regret. That was also proof that hope remained for his still-foolish friend.

When that time comes, I should prepare to tease him thoroughly.

* * *

News of the Eastern art auction hosted by La Motte Finance spread throughout Loire in an instant. Inquiries poured in from everywhere seeking invitations, and nouveau riche who couldn’t obtain invitations cursed their ancestors for failing to overturn the flow of history while mobilizing all their wealth and connections.

At the center of it all was Philippe Noël de Charmeuze. While nobles who knew his scoundrel ways wouldn’t even acknowledge him, ‘de Charmeuze’ still held enough value among naive nouveau riche to receive drinks every night.

“Come, come! Drain your glass in one go!”

“Haha! This wine is quite good. Who brought it?”

“That was me!”

“Hmm! I’ll remember your face.”

“Thank you!”

Those who didn’t receive invitations commissioned Philippe for proxy bidding.

To country bumpkins fresh from the countryside with dreams of striking it rich, to fools blinded by gold right before their noses who couldn’t see the trap behind it, to pathetic wastrels whose last rope had rotted away after collapse and ruin, Philippe was their final remaining hope.

“Uh, my lord. This is purely a question born of curiosity, but…”

Then a gentle-looking gentleman approached Philippe. Philippe, pleasantly drunk, decided to show interest instead of ignoring him.

“Is the rumor about bringing a panacea from the Eastern Lands really true? I heard that your elder brother also acknowledged it…”

“Ah! You mean that!”

Despite mentioning his brother, which was usually like touching a nerve, Philippe remained cheerful.

“My mother has been unwell lately. Is there any way to obtain even scraps of it?”

“Hmm…”

Philippe crossed his arms and let out a weighty murmur. While the anxious gentleman bit his lips, Philippe, who had been keeping his eyes tightly shut, opened one eye and made a circle with his thumb and index finger.

“With this, it wouldn’t be entirely impossible.”

The gentleman’s expression stiffened momentarily upon realizing what that meant, then he smiled brightly as if nothing had happened.

“Haha! As expected of you, my lord! I trust only you!”

The men returned with satisfied expressions. Left alone, Philippe continued sipping his drink, using those fools as his appetizer.

There were eyes watching him.

Alain Lemur drained the glass before him in one gulp and stood up.

In the darkness, the man’s absinthe-colored eyes flashed.

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