Episode 284: Power inflation (2)
Countless candles lit up all at once.
The dripping wax wax rides on the gold coins piled up like a mountain beneath it and hardens.
“… … oh my god.”
Dolores looked around and opened her mouth.
If I had to describe the huge world inside the vault in one word, it would be something like this.
Wealth.
An existence that far transcends the imagination of ordinary humans as to how wealthy humans can be.
Gold coins, gold ingots, jewels, and all other valuable items climbed over the hills to form hills, forming large mountains, and beyond them, a mountain range that stretched up.
On the ceiling, things that looked like stalactites were hardened in the form of flowing water, and they were all made of gold and precious stones.
Countless golden goblets and swords, crowns, necklaces, earrings, rings, brooches, expensive antiques, dazzling jewels, numerous documents and papers proving real estate rights, astonishing value. Art objects and extremely rare bottles of alcohol are strewn about like garbage everywhere.
It is so overwhelming that you can’t even guess where that wealth is reaching.
The whole world is a brilliant golden fragrance of five colors based on gold.
The golden city that appears on a page of a myth book, and the pirate king’s hidden wealth that is handed down as a legend through the mouths of old people, cannot be so splendid, grand, and luxurious!
“… … It’s a different world.”
Dolores felt a little daunted.
Although she usually does not place any value on wealth, she is bound to shrink from wealth of this magnitude.
It was no longer a mere wealth, but it was exuding even the majesty and holiness of Mother Nature itself.
‘It’s because there are so many ignorant one-day puppies among those who visit my brother. Those who try to show off their wealth with a sense of pride. I guess it’s to kill their spirits beforehand.’
Dolores finally understood what Damian was saying.
In this wide world, would there be one or two frogs in the well that were earned by pennies?
They will constantly rush like a swarm of flying flies to compare themselves with the bourgeoisie who is said to be at the pinnacle of wealth.
In order to comfortably get rid of such troublesome people, it would certainly be efficient to show them this kind of scenery and make them crawl on their own.
at that time.
“… … !”
Walking among the piles of gold, Dolores was finally able to see the depths of the vault.
At the end of the dazzling and scattered treasures of gold and silver, a majestic mound rises.
A mountain of gold coins, and stairs.
Above it was a large table made entirely of ivory.
And a man sitting on the other side of the table where the shadow of a candle shimmers and greets you.
“Welcome, saintess. No, representative of the Oracle.”
A face with long white hair, a full beard, gentle eyes and a stubborn mouth.
The head of the bourgeois family, Bartholomew the Bourgeois, was waving his hand in this direction.
* * *
“You’re very resourceful.”
These were the words Bartholomew said when the supper had just begun.
When Dolores looked up, Bartolomeo grinned.
“I saw the details of your investment this time. It would not have been easy to invest a large amount of money because of the high risk, but I have to learn how to be bold.”
“I believed in the business item of a person named Xindi Wendy.”
Dolores answered as the Night Hound had told her to do.
Hearing her answer, Bartolomeo nodded.
“It’s Sindy Wendy. A young businessman making a name for himself in the West. I have many times admired his skill in coaxing the savages of the western jungle. However, I don’t think there are many people who recognize it because it’s not yet spread in the business world of the ecliptic. Our saintess’ eyes are not normal. Your age is great.”
“It’s not about age. They’re just teenagers who still lack a lot.”
“Seniority has nothing to do with age. Throughout my life, I have made many preparations, taken many challenges, and made many failures. Prepare, challenge, fail. These three rings are woven together to form one ring called the annual ring.”
Bartolomeo praised Dolores over and over again in a tone full of good feelings.
“I have proven myself by achieving this level of achievement. How would I feel if I was one year old or a hundred years old? It’s okay to be proud No matter where human beings started, if the distance traveled is far, they deserve to be proud. On the other hand, if you haven’t taken one step off the starting line because of complaining, then you don’t have the right to complain.”
What if the person sitting in front of him was an ordinary student at Colosseo Academy?
My heart must have been relieved by this praise, good words, recognition and respect generously given by the world’s best rejection.
The pride and pleasure of being recognized for your hard work.
It is the devil’s tongue that staggers through the gaps in the mind that have been loosened by it.
‘The Hound of the Night said that among them, the sixth person was particularly good at talking.’
Dolores looked at Bartolomeo in front of her.
gentlemanly appearance. soft voice. A pleasing accent. And words of congratulations that come as if they were sincere.
But Dolores was not seduced by those things.
It is partly because of her strong mental strength, but above all, this investment performance is not because she did it with her own strength.
It’s not particularly pleasing to be praised for something you didn’t do.
“It’s an overstatement.”
Dolores struggled to smile.
And Bartolomeo seems to have had a slight misunderstanding after seeing her lukewarm reaction.
“Ugh. I’m sorry about Quilty.”
“… … ?”
When Dolores looked up with a puzzled expression, Bartolomeo opened his mouth with a look of pity.
“Come to think of it, the saintess belongs to the New Testament sect.”
“… … .”
“I have a deep friendship with the priests of the Old Testament sect.”
Apparently, Bartolomeo seemed to think that Dolores was a member of the New Testament sect, and therefore disapproved of him being friendly with the priests of the Old Testament sect.
Bartolomeo made excuses that were not excuses.
“But if you try to keep your distance from me because of that, I really regret it. As the saintess thought, I am friendly with the priests of the Old Testament sect.”
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“… … .”
“But I also want to make friends with the priests of the New Testament sect. I just can’t do that because they degrade and disparage me, my bond with the Old Testament, and the wealth we accumulate as inhuman, dirty, ugly, and desirable.”
Bartolomeo said while slicing the bloody meat with a knife.
“Actually, ‘wealth’ is colorless, odorless, and tasteless. No form, no taste, no smell. It’s terribly value-neutral. It’s good when it’s good, and it’s bad when it’s bad.”
“… … .”
“It’s like a fire that can burn up a whole mountain, but it can also save the little match girl dying in a winter alley.”
“… … .”
“Those who dare to treat it as a bad thing are just losers who have never touched a lot of money in their entire lives. Or the poor people who were brainwashed by the vested interests who first seized the order of this society and made a lot of money.”
At the end of his speech, Bartolomeo added a short comment.
“If you do great good with a lot of money, wouldn’t that also be meaningful? So please don’t hate the Old Testament faction too much.”
Dolores had often heard this logic.
It was the logic that his adoptive father, Humbert, always preached.
“… … .”
Dolores glanced over at the hourglass at the head of the table.
Some time has already passed.
Dolores opened her mouth, counting seconds inwardly.
“Do great good with great money. I hope it goes as you say.”
“yes. ha ha ha-“
Bartolomeo laughed cheerfully, perhaps glad that Dolores agreed with him.
Then he cut a piece of meat on the plate and put it in his mouth and chewed it.
“More than that, a saint. Why don’t you eat? Not to your taste? Do you like meat?”
“no. Sounds like good meat. Seeing that the head of household is enjoying it.”
“Of course it is. Because it is the finest meat. I am particularly sensitive to meat quality. Eat slowly. There is still plenty of time left.”
Dolores responded with a kind smile to Bartolomeo’s gesture of offering meat.
“sorry. I don’t like human meat.”
“… … !”
In an instant, Bartolomeo’s hand stopped.
He slowly raised his head and looked at Dolores.
“Whoop whoop. You’re kidding too much, saint. Do you mean that this meat is the result of exploiting the flesh and blood of the working class? If so, repeat what I said earlier… … .”
“no. I mean really human meat. I have come to know everything.”
“… … what?”
When Bartolomeo asked, the smile disappeared from Dolores’ face.
She replied in a firm tone.
“The fact that Bartolomeo, the head of the bourgeois family, goes beyond being friendly with the Old Testament faction of Quo Vadis and tries to swallow them whole.”
“Heh heh heh-”
“To this end, it has been working to shake the foundation of the Quo Vadis family by cultivating numerous cults and pseudos.”
“Heh heh heh-”
“And the identity of Bartolomeo, the beast behind all this, is actually a devil.”
“… … !”
Even Bartolomeo couldn’t laugh at Dolores’ last words.
yet.
“Hu-hu-hu-ha ha ha ha!”
Bartolomeo, who had been laughing lowly, suddenly started laughing loudly.
The sound was so loud that the countless gold coins that were forming the mountain around it resonated with simultaneous clanking sounds.
Dolores asked in a quiet voice.
“Aren’t you scared? A visitor who came to know your identity.”
“scared? No way.”
Bartolomeo looked at Dolores in front of him with a smile on his face and an expression that would kill him for fun.
“Is there anyone in this world who can scare me?”
Gwang-oh. The Demon King’s Confidence. A person who has done great evil with a lot of money.
An overwhelming force was pushing through Dolores’ entire body.
… … at that time.
dig-
There was another aura that instantly dissipated the burden on Dolores’ body.
Across the table, on top of a mountain of gold coins, where the red light of a candle flickers.
The place where Bartolomeo turned his head with a hard expression that had gone from laughing and the place where Dolores turned his head with a bright expression was exactly the same place.
“Here it is.”
night hound.
The demon hunter who had gone through countless hells was giving off a thick smell of blood.
