Reincarnated User Manual

Meanwhile, the atmosphere in the banquet hall was reaching its zenith.

Although it was served as a thirst quencher, after a few glasses of the effervescent drink, a mild buzz set in, and the murmuring voices grew loud enough to overpower the music as time went on.

In this chaotic space, Hugo dealt with individuals who approached to forge connections.

“It’s been a while, Sir Hugo.”

A man in ivory formal attire greeted him with a refined gesture. He spoke to Hugo as though they hadn’t seen each other in ages, but, regrettably, Hugo couldn’t place his face.

“Good to see you…”

Nevertheless, considering he might have simply forgotten the man, Hugo responded with caution.

Hugo didn’t have an exceptional memory, and he often forgot ‘unimportant’ individuals with ease.

Usually, Eldrina, who adeptly navigated social settings, would manage such interactions, but this time, she had inexplicably delegated the task to her daughter Siriel.

Yet, this didn’t leave Hugo at a disadvantage.

‘That’s Count Posse, the second brother-in-law of Duke Ermens.’

Just as he was about to confront an awkward moment, his daughter provided him with a clue.

After that, things became easier.

“Count Posse. It’s a pleasure to meet you in such a setting.”

“Did you remember me?”

The count’s demeanour in his ivory suit visibly brightened at the mention of his name.

“I heard you successfully concluded the recent expedition. My heartiest congratulations.”

“…It was fortunate that it ended without incident.”

While continuing the dialogue, Hugo surveyed the room. Despite having spoken to many, even more were waiting for a chance to engage him.

‘Why are so many people seeking me out?’

Hugo experienced a wave of lightheadedness.

‘These kinds of social functions really aren’t my scene.’

A sentiment he had often entertained, and it became more pronounced with each passing moment.

Artificial illumination. The overpowering fragrance of perfumes. Crowds of people. Boisterous conversations.

- …I considered thrashing someone.

‘…What?’

Suddenly, his sharp hearing caught some swearing, but Hugo didn’t have the energy to pay attention to it.

At gatherings with alcohol, brawls caused by intoxication were common, and Hugo’s mental energy was already at its limit just from dealing with the man in front of him.

“Speaking of interesting rumors…”

Count Posse, like Hugo, paid little attention to the commotion he had just noticed. Hugo erased the existence of the distant uproar from his mind.

“I heard that your daughter is also enrolled in the academy, is that correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“There’s been quite a stir at the academy recently. Have you heard about it?”

“…What do you mean?”

Hugo replied with a question, conscious of his daughter standing behind him.

“There’s a rumor that the daughter of the Schtrauser family and the son of General Bos were beaten up by a classmate, resulting in a broken nose.”

‘A boring story.’

He thought thus but didn’t show it.

“…If the rumor is true, that’s really unfortunate.”

He just wanted to end the conversation politely.

“Yes. But fortunately, a healer was called immediately, and they were treated without a scar.”

But the man, either clueless or naturally a gossip, started getting more excited about the story.

“There’s another interesting piece of news. It seems there was an incident in the sparring class where the second son of Count Schreier and the grandson of Baron Karl suffered broken arms and legs.”

“…Hmm?”

Hugo tilted his head in confusion.

Why would the breaking of noble children’s limbs be ‘interesting’? Skeptical of such a strange comment, his gaze toward the man narrowed.

‘Is there something wrong with this man’s mind?’

As if sensing Hugo’s lack of interest, Count Posse’s eyes widened.

“Was the story not interesting to you?”

“…Not exactly.”

“Then?”

“As you know, broken limbs are common, especially during sparring. So it didn’t seem particularly extraordinary to me.”

“Ah! Perhaps I didn’t explain it well enough.”

Count Posse stepped closer to Hugo.

“I heard this from my brother-in-law. The young men I mentioned were all defeated by a single student. Broken arms and legs, broken noses—it must have been quite a scene.”

“…Is that true?”

“Yes, I’ve heard that the student knocked down more than a dozen.”

“And no one intervened as things escalated? Surely someone must have called for action.”

“Interestingly, no one did.”

Hugo did not find the story interesting, but he nodded politely.

His reaction seemed to please Count Posse, who started to smile faintly.

“Well, broken limbs are common, aren’t they? And it’s just a conflict among children, so it would be ridiculous for adults to get involved.”

“…I see.”

“Ah! I must excuse myself now. I’ve monopolized too much of your time.”

Count Posse, walking away with his hands behind his back, spoke his mind and then promptly left, making him a challenging character to deal with.

The space left by the departing Count was immediately filled by another. This time, it was a man wearing thick glasses, unfamiliar to Hugo.

“Sir Hugo, to have a direct conversation with you—”

“Father.”

Just as the man was about to greet Hugo with a subservient smile, Hugo’s daughter called out from behind.

“Excuse me for a moment.”

Hugo turned around after informing the man. There stood Siriel, looking unwell, holding her forehead.

“…Is there something wrong?”

“Can we step out for some fresh air? I’m feeling a bit dizzy after standing for so long.”

“Let’s do that.”

Hugo turned slightly to meet the gaze of the man with glasses.

“I’m sorry, but could we postpone this to another time?”

“Yes, yes, of course. Please go ahead.”

“Thank you for your understanding.”

Nodding his head, Hugo supported Siriel and left the banquet hall.

At the banquet held in the imperial palace, known as the Night of the Long Swords.

While many attended, only a select few guests were permitted, ensuring that what transpired there rarely leaked to the outside world.

Even the incident where the scion of the Prient family, Hugo’s nephew, insulted the First Prince, Austin, to his face did not become public knowledge.

Austin thought that was for the best.

“It’s better if yesterday’s events don’t spread.”

In a hotel room in Rien that was reserved anonymously,

Austin sat on a red leather sofa and spoke to the man opposite him as if making a suggestion.

The man, stroking his untidy beard, which fit the description of ‘scruffy,’ inquired,

“What happened yesterday?”

“The insult I suffered… from someone of uncertain origins. Didn’t you see it? I recall you were at the banquet.”

“I didn’t witness it myself, but I heard about it from Count Elgar.”

“…That’s a relief.”

Austin deliberately adopted a relieved expression. He had to.

“My blood pressure hasn’t been great lately. It’s better if fewer people remember that embarrassing moment.”

“That’s a wise perspective.”

The man, who placed a high value on saving face, was not primarily loyal to Austin but to the empire itself.

‘Such a hassle.’

Nonetheless, Austin couldn’t afford to lie outright to the man.

His comment about the man not witnessing the incident was false, but the fact about his unusually high blood pressure of late was true.

Austin knew he needed to weave just enough truth into his conversations with the man.

Count Boland was from the Ajani Duchy and, five years prior, had brought news of his brother’s removal from the royal family.

He presented himself as a sorcerer from beyond the desert, yet a separate letter from Henry described him as a renowned monk from the Ajani Duchy. The idea that he held a title was almost amusing.

However,

Count Boland, while not entirely trustworthy, was the most competent person Austin had at his disposal.

Here, being competent meant something very specific.

If you asked this man about the wind, it generally happened.

He said he didn’t want to be discarded like his brother.

He said he didn’t want to die.

He said he couldn’t die like this.

And finally, he said he wanted to become the emperor.

Since Boland, like a magician, always found a way, Austin had to use him, despite finding him suspicious.

But…

It seemed there was no avoiding the feeling of uncertainty, the weariness in dealing with him, and the dizzying sensation in one’s head.

Feeling his eyelids heavy as if weighed down with lead, Austin wanted to end the conversation quickly.

‘I must wrap up this conversation soon…’

“Your Highness.”

At that moment, feeling as if his heart would stop, a wrinkled hand suddenly gripped Austin’s hand tightly.

“There is something I must advise.”

“What is it?”

Was it because of the tight grip? Austin felt his eyelids lighten. The heavy sensation like lead disappeared, his mind cleared, and he felt at ease. Whenever he held Boland’s hand, Austin felt as if he was walking above the clouds, free from his cursed body.

Completely natural, without any sense of discomfort.

Austin’s consciousness focused entirely on him.

“Looking at Your Highness’s condition, you might die before the emperor at this rate. It would be wise to adjust the intensity of the Ju-gu (curse tool).”

“…Is it that serious?”

Austin furrowed his brow and handed over a staff.

The staff given by Count Boland after Austin wished to become the emperor. It was said to be a tool that consumed the user’s life force to prey on others’ lives.

Click-

Boland twisted the handle of the staff, detaching it from the column.

“Your Highness’s blood pressure, not to mention your complexion, is not normal. I’ll adjust the amount. Hmm… Let’s remove about three pinches.”

Boland, tilting the white body of the staff, seemed to remove something with his hand.

-Ts-ts-ts

The sound of something falling onto the table.

However, Austin couldn’t see it.

“Chilling to the bone. It’s right in front of me, but invisible…”

The sorcerer’s gestures, performed in thin air, appeared as nothing more than skillful hand movements, making the deception easier to accept.

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