“The old lady here—Mrs. Wicks I mean—is like the godmother to the likes of us vagabonds, strays, and all the riffraff who’d otherwise be haunting the back alleys. The reason any of us have respectable jobs instead of skulking around in the shadows is all thanks to her. And…”
The coachman paused for a moment, let out a sigh, and continued.
“And the reason the Miph Merchant Guild gives her such a hard time is all because of the casino.”
“…The casino?”
“Yes, didn’t you notice anything strange on the way here?”
Something strange, he said.
I rummaged through my memory, retracing the road that had brought me here.
Gaudy signs, half-naked women, and men stumbling around between them, reeling and groping for purchase.
Just your everyday entertainment district, really.
There was nothing odd about—
Wait a minute.
My face stiffened as the realization dawned.
“Now that you mention it, I do find something odd. Surely the whole of Miphra Territory isn’t one big pleasure quarter, so why are people carrying on like that in broad daylight?”
“…That’s all because of the Miph Merchant Guild. Or, to be precise, it’s the casino’s fault.”
The coachman let out a heavy sigh. “These days, Miphra Territory isn’t the wealthy city where I spent my childhood. It’d be more accurate to call it a city with a hidden side.”
“A hidden side… You mean it’s not what it seems on the surface?”
“That’s right. Outwardly, it’s more dazzling than the Imperial Capital, but in truth, it’s a city packed with penniless folks who’ve lost everything at the casino. The streets are overflowing with vagrants, and both men and women end up selling themselves in the brothels—just to scrape together gambling money.”
The coachman took a sip of water from the table and set it down, letting out a long breath.
“Well, the entertainment districts and black markets I mentioned to you earlier really do exist. Probably more extravagant and decadent than anywhere else on the continent.”
He shrugged, wearing a wry, self-deprecating smile.
“I see.” I nodded faintly, watching the coachman.
I only knew, thanks to information from the future, that there were things you could only get in this city’s black market. I’d never actually been here myself, so I had no idea how extravagant it really was.
But from the way the coachman described it, it seemed that being “extravagant” didn’t necessarily mean it was a good thing.
“Well, that sounds promising,” I said, drumming my fingers on the table—an old habit of mine, especially when my thoughts began to wander into the weeds.
“Is that so?” the coachman murmured, letting out a faint, knowing chuckle, as if he’d seen this play before.
But I was too deep in thought to bother responding.
Casino, huh…
I rifled through the attic of my past life memories.
Around this time, I’d heard that Miphra Territory had struck it rich with the casino. Not that I’d witnessed it firsthand—no, that particular tidbit came from my then-wife, Hera Artezia, who never missed a chance to show off.
“I’ve received news that the casino our family invested in just hit the jackpot. Meanwhile, your family keeps losing money hand over fist. Maybe this is why you shouldn’t associate with people whose brains have been pickled in muscle. Don’t you agree?”
…Even now, just thinking about it makes my blood simmer.
Back then, I’d nod along to whatever she said, convinced she was always right—even when she was insulting my family.
What a retard I was.
I shook my head, trying to clear away the lingering ghosts of that memory.
Anyway, what mattered now wasn’t Hera, but the connection between the casino and the Miph Merchant Guild.
At the time, I’d simply assumed that the Artezias had poured money into the casino and, naturally, it had paid off. After all, if even the illustrious Duchy of Artezia couldn’t make a casino succeed, then the universe would have to invent a new word for “failure.”
But judging by how things were playing out, that clearly wasn’t the whole story.
No matter how wildly successful a casino is, it’s almost unheard of for an entire city to lose its mind like this.
Of course, there’s always the faint possibility that’s exactly what happened—that Artezia did nothing, and the people of Miphra Territory simply went collectively mad for gambling.
But still…
If Artezia is involved, then you can be sure that’s not the answer.
There’s an old saying—if something strange happens in the world, just turn and look at Duke Artezia’s House. Most of the time, you’ll find them at the heart of it.
Or is it not this time?
In any case… That’s just how notorious House Artezia is.
There’s definitely some connection.
I pulled my chair closer, leaned forward, and addressed the coachman. “Go on. What’s the connection between the casino and the Miph Merchant Guild?”
The coachman answered with a bitter smile.
“…One of the lads I used to pick pockets with just got hired as a dealer at the casino. He said they’re laying the groundwork to hand this territory over to some noble. The casino’s basically a washhouse, and the Miph Merchant Guild are their lackeys.”
I let his words drift by and sank back into thought.
A washhouse, huh…
Tap. Tap. I drummed my fingers on the table, muttering under my breath.
Washhouses, among the ladies, was all the rage these days—a place where laundry was done with single-minded devotion.
But it was obvious the coachman didn’t mean an actual washhouse. No, this had to mean something else…
I swallowed and fell into thought.
But then, like a bolt of lightning, it struck me.
Doing laundry in a place where money changes hands? There could only be one meaning.
“…They’re laundering funds.”
The coachman jumped in, his voice rising with agitation. “That’s right. They’re washing the money they make here so they can pass it off to a new owner. And they’re turning all the people in the territory into gamblers to do it!”
A fleck of spit escaped him in his excitement.
But instead of wrinkling my nose, I kept thinking, right there in front of him.
What is laundering, anyway?
It means making something dirty clean. So, does that mean the money here is dirty?
Of course not.
After all, casinos aren’t illegal.
The Sanctum of the Faith might frown upon it, but that didn’t make it illegal under the Emperor’s laws.
So why go to the trouble of laundering something that isn’t even dirty?
The answer was simple.
…To keep it out of the Emperor’s sight.
I put two and two together and let out a dry, incredulous laugh.
In the original timeline—back before my little detour—House Artezia invested in this casino and struck gold. The profits poured in, month after month, to the tune of several million gold coins.
That was enough to cover the annual budget of a small domain, and then some.
No wonder I hadn’t suspected a thing at the time.
Even though that can’t possibly be the whole story…
Did Artezia ever honestly report their earnings to the Emperor?
I shook my head with certainty.
Not a chance.
And since arriving here, I’d seen it for myself.
A casino so wildly successful it could ruin an entire territory, and a “washhouse,” just as the coachman described—a place to clean more than just shirts.
If you follow the breadcrumbs—
…Artezia is using Miphra Territory itself as a washhouse, hiding their dealings from the Emperor to raise funds for a rebellion.
At last, the knot unraveled. I clenched my fist, as if I’d finally grabbed hold of the thread that tied everything together.
Turns out, the real source of House Artezia’s bottomless coffers wasn’t the casino’s dividends—it was the Miphra Territory itself.
“…They’re all insane.”
I couldn’t help feeling astonished upon realizing their scheme.
They were building a secret river of money, hidden from the Emperor, hidden from the entire continent.
And they were using an entire territory to do it.
The casino, most likely, was just a clever bit of sleight of hand—a diversion to keep everyone else looking the wrong way.
I’d always assumed they turned traitor only after the Crown Prince became Emperor, but apparently, they’d been plotting rebellion since way back here.
Turns out, rebellion was the goal from the very beginning.
Well, their tragic motivations didn’t matter to me.
What mattered was this: I’ve just found a way to give them a taste of their own medicine.
I stopped drumming my fingers on the table and let a sly grin curl at the corner of my mouth.
Looks like I’ll have to take both the casino and the Miph Merchant Guild for myself.
* * *
Meanwhile, at the casino run by the Miph Merchant Guild, there was none of the inn’s hush—just a raucous din spreading in every direction.
“Hey! I’m out of coins over here!”
“What’s wrong with this slot?! Didja rig the odds or summat?!”
“W-wait! I’ll get you the money, I promise! J-just hold on a second—WAAAIIIIT!”
Roulette wheels spun round and round, while marbles clattered as they rolled along, making their own peculiar music.
Shouts of euphoria mingled with the cries of those who’d very much prefer not to have their organs repossessed.
All the sounds of humanity—delight, despair, and the desperate bargaining of people who’d lost more than just their shirts—swelled together in a chorus only a casino could conduct.
And in the midst of it all, in the third-floor VVIP suite where the rabble below were clearly visible, a man sat, letting out a derisive chuckle.
A wine glass dangled from his hand, and even at a glance, the wine inside looked expensive enough to make a miser faint.
“Worms. That’s what they are.” The man said it with a sneer.
Beside him, a knight—doing his best impression of a decorative suit of armor—spoke up in a low voice. “Worms, sir?”
“Yes. The kind that squirm when you step on them.”
The man continued, his tone thick with scorn. “They all think they could become dragons. They tell themselves the world is unfair, that if only they’d had a chance, they wouldn’t be living like this. They live out their days comforting themselves with that little fantasy.”
He gave a short, sharp laugh.
With a thin, sardonic smile, he tipped back his wine.
“That’s why they gamble. They convince themselves that, with enough money, they’ll become dragons. They delude themselves into thinking they’re worth far more than they really are.”
A trickle of wine spilled to the floor, ringing out with a clear, crisp sound.
“But in truth, they’re not even worth the price of this wine. Yet when you step on them, they get angry and writhe about. No different from worms, really.”
“I see.” The knight nodded, not quite understanding, but knowing full well his opinion didn’t matter.
Watching him, the man let out a short, mirthless laugh. Then he raised his hand and lightly tapped the knight’s cheek.
“That’s why I like you, boy. You take after your father and know how to listen.”
“…Thank you, sir.”
The man handed his wine glass to the knight and asked, “All right, so where’s our esteemed guest?”
The knight bowed his head slightly and replied in a subdued tone. “He’s currently in Room A.”
“So you put him in the pricey room.”
“…My apologies.”
“It’s fine. He’s from the main house, after all. That sort of treatment is the least we can do. Lead the way. I suppose I ought to pay a visit to our high-nosed young master.”
“Yes, sir.” The knight answered with his head still bowed, then moved to the front to guide the way.
Before long, they came upon a door with a sign that read: Room A.
“Go on in.”
“Yes, sir.” The knight, who had been leading, now stepped behind the man.
Creeeak. The man opened the door to Room A.
Inside, a blue-haired man was nestled between two women, humming a tune to himself.
“Ahh… There do be some fine pussy here, eh? Hey, pretty thing. Come on over.”
The blue-haired man, thoroughly drunk, called out to a woman who was sitting a little apart from the others.
The woman, trembling, approached him.
Without hesitation, the man slipped his hand inside her clothes and began to fondle her.
“Bahahaha! You feel better than you look!”
“Mmgh!” The woman forced her lips into a smile, holding back the tears welling in her eyes—like someone trapped by a force she couldn’t hope to resist.
“Do you like her? If you want, she’s yours for as long as you please.”
“Hm? And who are you supposed to be?” The blue-haired man asked.
At that, the man in flamboyant attire stepped forward and bowed politely. “It’s an honor to meet you. I am Makio, owner of the Miph Casino and current Trademaster of the Miph Merchant Guild.”
“Makio?”
“Yes, that’s the name…” Makio straightened, a bright smile spreading across his face. “Young Master Martin Artezia.”