The Yellow-Haired Villain in Soaring Phoenix's Novels Also Desires Happiness

A carriage moved soundlessly through the streets of the royal capital.

The streets were narrow enough that even passing through them was difficult for a carriage, but fortunately the driver’s skill was superb. Even with only one hand left, he handled the entire vehicle with remarkable steadiness, and with the carriage itself being of decent quality, there was hardly any jostling inside.

Muen lifted the curtain and looked outside.

In the fine rain, the roads had turned muddy. In some places, the sewers were clogged and filthy runoff could not drain away. The faint, nauseating stench lingered in the air, something even the cold drizzle could not wash away.

Unlike Belrand, which had built its massive sewer system in advance to support a century of continual expansion, Saint Blancfazesiya was an ancient city, and in every respect its infrastructure had long since grown terribly old under the erosion of time.

On top of that, its population had multiplied several times over the course of a few hundred years. Much of its decaying infrastructure was already on the verge of collapse, like these perpetually blocked sewers.

Naturally, the authorities had tried to patch things up. But the cost of completely overhauling a city’s infrastructure, along with the widespread disruption it would cause, was simply too enormous. According to the intelligence reports, aside from a few important wealthy districts, most other areas were still stuck in a state best described as “patch it up and it’ll last a few ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) more years.”

“So that’s what they mean by an artistic city beneath the sunlight?”

Indeed, it could only be admired under sunlight. Once it rained, no one had the leisure to appreciate art.

The corner of Muen’s mouth curved slightly, though there was no real mockery in it. In truth, the scene before him was far closer to the living conditions of most poor people in this era. The Lower District of Belrand was crowded and cramped as well, yet countless people still tried to sneak in just to carve out some kind of living there.

Muen let the curtain fall, shutting out the cold rain and the stench outside.

Different landscapes of life naturally stirred different thoughts. But at this moment, he had no interest in what he could already see, or in what he had long since learned from intelligence reports. What he wanted to know was something deeper, something hidden beneath the night.

“All right. Tell me about the situation here.”

Muen tapped the table before him lightly.

He still wore Bruce’s face, though he had set aside the black top hat that had seemed absurdly tall on his head. The high bridge of his nose cast sharp shadows across his features, making his gaze seem that much keener.

And reflected in those eyes now was a figure that was both massive... and oddly hunched.

It was not a contradiction.

Tyron sat across from Muen, and because the carriage had only so much space, he had curled himself up as tightly as possible to avoid crowding the other man.

Only moments ago he had looked like a towering, mighty giant. Now he seemed to be trying to compress himself into a ball smaller than a dwarf.

“W-What situation?”

Tyron clenched his teeth. He felt as though his internal organs were about to curl into a ball before the rest of him did. If he had eaten a late-night meal before leaving, he would probably have thrown it up by now from being folded so tightly.

But he did not dare show the slightest dissatisfaction.

“The situation here. The situation in this city. The situation as you know it.”

Muen tapped the table again and asked calmly,

“You already know who I am, so you should know what it is I want to know... shouldn’t you, Mr. Tyron, Beast of Xipos?”

“N-No, no, how could I dare call myself any kind of beast in front of you...”

Tyron waved his hands repeatedly, forcing out a humble, ingratiating smile. He was as meek as a lost little lamb now, not a trace of his earlier arrogance remaining.

That damned tailor...

Though Tyron looked peaceful on the surface, he had already cursed the man’s ancestors a thousand times over inside his head. But even in his cursing, he did not dare direct a single insult at the person before him. Even the savagery that had seemed bred into his bones had been entirely suppressed. He could only curse in silence the tailor who had dragged him into this pit.

If not for that idiot tailor, how could he have ended up trying to hook a fish, only to be dragged into the water by the fish instead?

No.

That had not been a fish at all. That was a real hunter.

As the saying went, a truly skilled hunter often entered the scene disguised as prey.

In the end, he had been the fish.

Tyron sighed miserably. Blaming the tailor was really nothing more than a form of self-comfort. He knew very well that once the other man had gone this far, there was no way he would reel in the line before confirming the fish was big enough.

“If you want to know the situation...”

Tyron thought for a while, then said slowly,

“In the royal capital, the richest noble is Marquis Nick. He’s the Kingdom’s Minister of Finance, and he also controls wartime logistics. No one knows how much has gone straight into his own pockets. There are rumors that his family’s treasury is richer than the royal treasury itself.

“As for whose daughter is the most beautiful, that would be Count Harley. Though Count Harley is known as the Bloodstained Executioner, the Royal Capital’s Headsman, the Merciless Butcher... I have to admit, his daughter is truly a beauty beyond compare. Plenty of people admire her, but because of Count Harley’s fearsome reputation, no one dares profane her. But if you wanted to make a move, I could arrange—”

“Ahem.”

Muen suddenly cut him off with a dry cough and said sternly, “What nonsense are you talking about? Is that what I asked?”

“Huh? It isn’t?”

Tyron blinked in surprise.

“You came to the royal capital for neither wealth nor women? Then what else could it be...?”

“...In your eyes, am I really just some vulgar man who came here chasing money and beauty?”

“No, of course not, of course not...”

Tyron wiped away a bead of cold sweat and stealthily studied the Slar man sitting not far from him once more.

His face, while cold and sharply cut, was not especially frightening. Especially when seated next to Tyron, no one judging by appearance alone would think him particularly terrifying.

And yet this outsider bore a name that inspired dread in all who heard it.

The Dark Emperor.

The Dark Emperor of the Empire, the legendary figure who had ruled the entire Lower District of Belrand—even Tyron, all the way here in the Kingdom’s royal capital, had heard of him. And now that very man had come to the royal capital, and at such a turbulent, storm-ridden time.

He had heard that this Dark Emperor had appeared suddenly while instability was spreading through the Imperial capital itself, then seized control of the entire dark side of Belrand in one stroke. So if he had shown up here now, it could not possibly be for something as simple as wealth or beauty.

It had to be for something far greater.

Could it be...

Just as he had done in Belrand, had he come personally to bring the dark side of this city under his own control as well?

If so, then what he wanted to know was painfully obvious.

Gulp.

Tyron swallowed hard, convinced now that he had grasped this great man’s intentions, and did not dare delay.

“Where should I begin? Right—let me introduce myself again. I am Tyron, Tyron Grail. In name, I can be considered the head of all the gangs in the western district of this city.”

“The western district?”

Muen raised a brow. “Didn’t you call yourself the King of Darkness? Why are you only the head of the western district?”

“Haha... that was just a slight use of exaggerated rhetoric. When you’re out in the world, you have to brag hard about yourself. Everyone else does it, so naturally I couldn’t fall behind.”

Scratching his head, Tyron let out an awkward laugh.

“In reality, among all the underground gangs in Saint Blancfazesiya, there are still quite a few people whose status is roughly on par with mine.”

“How many is ‘quite a few’?”

“About...”

Tyron bent his fingers and counted.

“Around ten?”

“...That exaggerated rhetoric of yours is a little too exaggerated.”

“It’s... not that bad.”

Tyron’s old face reddened.

“This city is enormous. Being able to carve out a place here is already an incredible feat. Of course... compared to you, I’m nowhere close.”

“That’s true enough.”

Muen turned his head slightly.

In truth, he had vaguely sensed it already. Belrand might be the largest city on the continent, but the dark side of this royal capital was clearly larger than Belrand’s.

That was not because Belrand’s title as the greatest city in the world was unearned.

Part of the reason lay in governance. The other part...

When Muen thought back carefully, the underground world of Belrand he had encountered back then had already been in the aftermath of a brutal purge carried out by his father under cover of the Celicia assassination case.

But this royal capital of the Kingdom...

Clearly, that aged old king—especially while busy preparing for war—had no spare energy to turn the knife inward on his own capital.

It had probably been left to grow wild for decades, lurking in the shadows of the city like a foul, stinking tumor unknown to most of the people living above it.

“Around ten... that’s too many.”

“I-Is it?”

Tyron bared his teeth soundlessly.

Hmph. So even the legendary Dark Emperor found it troublesome to face more than ten difficult opponents on his level.

Maybe he wasn’t that weak after all—

“Dealing with ten people one by one would be too troublesome. I don’t have that kind of time.”

Muen said, “Is there any way to gather them all together? I’d like to deal with them all at once.”

“...”

Tyron’s mouth froze.

“A-All together? Deal with all of them?”

“Yes. All of them.”

Muen nodded seriously.

“I’m in a hurry.”

“...”

Because he was pressed for time, he wanted to gather all the gang leaders in the city and wipe them out in one go?

Was that really the kind of thing someone could say so casually with a straight face?

Under normal circumstances, Tyron would have laughed at such absurd overconfidence. But if it was this man...

Tyron rubbed his wrist, which was still aching, and forced out a stiff smile.

“That... probably won’t be possible.”

“Why not?”

“The people who reach positions like ours are cautious by nature.”

Sensing Muen’s doubtful gaze, Tyron gave two awkward coughs.

“I mean cautious when dealing with opponents of equal status. Unless there’s some major matter at stake, most gang leaders would never agree to meet.”

“Not even if you invited them?”

“I’m just one man. How could I possibly—”

“Useless.”

“W-Wait!”

Seeing the look in front of him that seemed one step away from Since you’re of no use, there’s no reason to leave you alive, Tyron jolted upright and hurriedly said,

“Even if I can’t gather them all, I can introduce you to another gang leader whose status is roughly the same as mine.”

“Oh?”

Muen said flatly, “When? I’m in a hurry.”

“Tom— no, now.”

Tyron gritted his teeth.

“I can do it right now.”