Chapter 51. Was Poor.

As the story was being sorted out, Simon suddenly brought up an unexpected topic.

“By the way, may I ask one more thing?”

“...What are you curious about?”

A sticky gaze swept over me.

I had a bad feeling.

“Why don’t you take off your helmet? I understand you must wear it outside to hide your identity, but there should be no need for that in front of me.”

“Um. This is-”

“It’s uncomfortable, isn’t it? Please be comfortable. Comfortable.”

Without even giving me time to make an excuse, Simon reached out and snatched my helmet.

After checking my face, Simon covered his mouth as if he were shocked.

“Goodness. Your face is…….”

“It’s fine. It’s in the process of healing.”

What a rude human.

If a person refuses, shouldn't you think there might be a reason?

Acting as he pleased without receiving consent was extremely unpleasant.

“It would heal quickly if you used a potion.”

“I don’t have the money for that.”

It would heal if I used a potion?

Who didn't know that?

It wasn't like I was critically ill; I was enduring it because it felt like a waste to spend money on something as trivial as dermatitis.

“How pitiful. You are poor.”

Simon sent a look full of pity.

For some reason, it was more detestable than when he was gloating.

Are you looking down on me because I'm poor, you bastard.

The red blood within me called for a revolution.

To redistribute the wealth of that well-fed noble—

“Very well. I shall give you a bottle.”

“Yes?”

“Here, I think I kept one around here……. Ah. Here it is.”

Simon held out a potion he had taken from a drawer in a corner of the drawing-room.

A bottle inlaid with gold leaf.

It was luxurious at a single glance.

It was certainly a more expensive item than the potion the Guild Master had used to save Pol.

“I’m not sure if I can just accept something like this…….”

“It’s just a household remedy for when I get a headache or indigestion.”

What did he just say?

He used a high-grade potion as a household remedy?

Was he rolling in money?

My mind in a state of confusion, I glanced around and was convinced.

That's right.

He was rolling in money.

Then he could use some potions freely.

This item called a potion was literally a miracle drug.

It was effective on all parts, regardless of external or internal injuries.

Its efficacy was outstanding, and it didn't take long for the effects to appear.

Furthermore, unlike the things that were similarly called 'miracle drugs' in my past life on Earth, which usually had serious side effects like addiction, this had no side effects either.

If you had the money, it was natural to hoard it and use it lavishly.

“…….”

I was conflicted.

It was an item too precious to be used on mere skin.

Wouldn't it be better to keep it for an emergency?

For example, if my arm got cut off by a sword. Or if I was bitten by a venomous monster.

This one bottle of potion could become a spare life.

In the end, I carefully put the potion in my pocket.

“...This, I will keep it and use it where it’s more needed.”

“Then I can just give you one more bottle.”

Simon picked up another potion as if he were taking a candy from his pocket.

His sense of money was so different that it was hard to keep up.

It would be nice if he gave it to me, but... was Simon that kind of a person?

For some reason, I couldn't shake the feeling that it was a poisoned chalice.

“Instead, there is a condition for giving you this potion.”

“What kind of condition?”

Just as I thought.

There was no way Simon would just give it away.

I prepared my heart and waited for Simon's answer.

I couldn't imagine what a grand demand he would make in exchange for a potion worth dozens of gold coins or more.

However, Simon's demand was far, far off from my expectations.

“May I pour the potion on your face?”

“Eh.”

This was a bit baffling.

“Ahaha. I’ve always wanted to splash water on Luke’s face just once.”

“You should have just splashed it on Luke……”

“Unfortunately, Luke is stronger than me. Luke doesn’t know ‘moderation’ and would come at me to the death, so I never dared to try.”

In a word, he couldn't touch the strong guy, so he was going to take it out on me instead.

Putting aside the karmic debt that this Luke bastard had piled up here and there, for him to try and use me as a substitute even though he clearly knew that Luke and I were different people.

This was a knight?

And he even belonged to the empire's strongest military group.

It was the end of days.

‘Anyway, isn’t it a good deal to get treated after being splashed with water(?) just once?’

It was similar to the development commonly seen in dramas, ‘Take this, and break up with my son!’

Of course, that side was more about the money than splashing water, but anyway.

“...I'm ready.”

I could tolerate getting a little wet.

“Excellent.”

Chwaak-!

There wasn't a single moment of hesitation.

As soon as the words were out, the red liquid was scattered on my face.

In fact, the amount that fell to the floor was more than the amount that touched my face.

I spread the potion that was trickling down Pol's face wide so that it would absorb well into the skin.

Simon, for his part, had a broad smile on his face, looking satisfied.

“Ah- that’s really refreshing.”

Wasting a precious potion like this.

This was what you call showing off with money.

Thanks to him, I received treatment, so I wasn't in a position to complain, though.

‘That Luke Ivers guy... he must have been stronger than I thought?’

I thought, feeling my skin recovering.

It was natural for him to be strong since he was the Sword Saint's disciple, but this was the first time I learned that he was strong enough to beat Simon.

I felt that the path to revenge against Luke had grown even more distant.

If he was that strong, he could have lived a grand life, so why did he make his life tiring by killing the emperor.

“Pfft.”

At the sound of someone holding back laughter, I turned to see the Queen's mouth twitching with a strange expression.

‘Smiling?’

This bastard, was I funny to her?

“Sir Liatro. Shouldn't we now decide on the disposal of the Arachne Queen? Since we've gotten all the information we can get, let's quickly kill this thing that we don't know is a monster or a devil.”

“Gyaa-!! Y-You evil bastard!! That's too much!! I answered everything you asked……!!”

Too much, she said.

If what Simon said was true, this thing was a devil that could corrupt its surroundings.

Erasing it from the world as quickly as possible was the way for humanity.

Huck.

Could it be that my occasional feelings of murderous intent were the effect of ‘corruption’?

I had to get rid of this terrifying and dangerous monster quickly.

“That’s too cruel.”

Simon stopped me with a strange smile.

It was unexpected.

He didn't seem like the type of person to feel something like pity for a monster.

“Ooh-! You're a reasonable one!!”

The Queen's face brightened, perhaps thinking that I couldn't go against Simon's words.

However, her joy did not last long.

“Couldn't we use it as a research specimen? So little is known about devils, so there will be many who want it. It's even moderately weakened, so it couldn't be better for research.”

“Gyaaaak!?! I don't want to die by being dissected!!”

“Don't worry. Do you think we would kill a precious specimen? Even if we cut open its belly and take out its organs, it can recover if we pour a potion on it. Hahaha.”

Just killing her felt like a much more humane option.

How scary.

“H-Help me! Save me from that devil!”

“You're the devil.”

Well, I could see that she was desperate enough to cling to the person who had just suggested killing her.

In any case, I could understand the part about it being a waste to kill her.

It was certain that she was a one-of-a-kind, irreplaceable existence.

“I'm sorry! It was all my fault!”

The Queen whimpered pitifully.

She must really hate the idea of becoming a specimen.

In truth, who(?) would enjoy suffering forever without even being able to die.

However, to avoid the fate of a specimen, she had to suggest a way to utilize the Queen more usefully than as a specimen.

A half-baked devil with no combat power.

An unreliable being whose safety was not guaranteed, and who tried to drive people to their deaths at every opportunity.

What was the one thing that only the Queen could do, that was worth embracing that much risk for?

Until now, it had been information.

Things that only the Queen knew and had experienced.

The location and structure of the cave, and the fact that only the Queen had heard the devil's words near the guard headquarters—

...Wait a moment.

“Let's hold off on handing her over as a specimen. I've thought of a better way to use her.”

“Yes? Is that so?”

Simon propped his chin on his hand and looked at me as if to say, let's hear it.

A light of hope entered the Queen's eyes.

“You said that a devil reacted and spoke to this one first when it was in its crystal state. Perhaps devils can sense each other. Couldn't we use it for tracking devils?”

If there were two schemes related to devils, there would be a third.

In other words, it meant that tracking devils would soon become the act of chasing Luke's backer.

A definite function.

A compact size that could fit in a pocket.

The Queen was sufficiently practical.

Simon readily agreed.

“I see. Certainly. It might be better to use it for an immediate need rather than for an experiment with an uncertain outcome.”

“I will cooperate in any way! Those evil devils! Let's root them out without leaving a single one!”

The Queen raised her voice as if she were a patriot, despite selling out her own kind to survive.

And so, the Queen's disposal was decided.

* * *

After settling the matter of the Queen.

We decided to go for the Sword Saint's visitation right away.

It was a swift process, from waking up the sleeping Simon to our departure.

However, there was one point of anxiety—

The location of the prison where the Sword Saint was confined was inside the Imperial Palace.

‘I'm nervous.’

There was a criminal detention facility in the precious place where the royals lived.

As a modern person who immediately thought of a shunned facility when hearing the word prison, it was an unfamiliar thing.

Here, a criminal detention facility and a military facility were basically synonymous.

Unlike on Earth, where there was a thing called common sense no matter how strong one was, this was a world teeming with monsters who could beat monsters to death with their bare hands.

To imprison such criminals, military power capable of suppressing them was needed, but such powerful forces were too precious to be wasted on merely guarding criminals.

Therefore, criminal detention facilities were attached as a bonus to military facilities where forces capable of responding were stationed—like the guard headquarters or the barracks of the Imperial Royal Guard.

Since a big shot like the Sword Saint couldn't be placed in a place like the guard headquarters, it seemed he was naturally imprisoned in the barracks of the Imperial Royal Guard.

“…….”

The Imperial Royal Guard.

When I first opened my eyes in this world, they must have been the ones who pointed their spears at me and chased me.

How many of them had seen my face back then?

In any case, they were a more dangerous group than any other.

“Sir Liatro. Are you here for a visit with the Sword Saint?”

“Yes. Is it possible?”

“Of course.”

I entered the Imperial Palace in a slightly tense state, worried about the security check, but with Simon by my side, no one stopped us.

Everyone seemed to already know Simon's destination, and Simon too walked without hesitation.

And so we arrived at the prison where the Sword Saint was said to be confined.

‘It’s small.’

At the word prison, I had imagined a scene with hundreds of rooms stretching endlessly, but what I saw before me was a space where fewer than ten rooms came into view at a glance.

Of course, this was a phenomenon that occurred because punishments were extreme, as this world had a strong tendency towards severe punishment in general.

If a crime was even slightly heavy, they would cut off the neck or hands and feet, and in cases where one was arrested without guilt or the wrongdoing was too ambiguous to be called a crime, they would be tied up for a few days and then released.

Unless it was a really special case, one wouldn't stay for long.

It felt like a restaurant that made up for its few seats with a high turnover rate.

The Sword Saint, who had been imprisoned for nearly a month, was said to be a record-breaking long-term inmate.

‘Staying here long would be the perfect way to get sick.’

The facilities were poor.

Damp, dark, and cold.

It was premised on staying for a few days at most, and the inmates were criminals.

In this place where the concept of human rights was also faint, there was no way they would be considerate.

I was a little worried about the Sword Saint.

Having locked up an old man in a place like this for nearly a month, he must have become very weak.

Simon's steps stopped in front of one cell.

However, it looked as if there was no one in that dark room.

“...Is this the right place?”

I asked cautiously.

Possibilities like the Sword Saint having moved cells, or him having already been released and us having missed him, came to mind.

At that moment.

Thud.

Faster than Simon's answer, something fell from the cell's ceiling.

Looking closely, it was a person with arms and legs—the Sword Saint.

‘Why is a person falling from the ceiling?’

The Sword Saint, who had landed right in front of me, grinned.

“You're here?”

...This old man was perfectly fine.

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