"Mandragora, could you please stop pestering me? You do your rebellion, I do my business—we can both have bright futures."
"Who's pestering you?! Don't flatter yourself! And for the record, this isn't rebellion—we're simply helping our leader reclaim what's rightfully hers."
"...Mandragora, I don't want to get involved in your mess."
"...But you already know too much."
"...Are you threatening me?"
"...That's right! I am threatening you. If you refuse today, don't expect to walk out of here standing upright."
Heh... your mouth says one thing, but your heart thinks another.
Tsk… what a troublesome Feline.
Why did I ever think this arrogant fool was pitiful back then?
Cape looked at the Feline before him—Mandragora—pretending to act tough.
She used to be nothing more than a miserable creature tormented by the nobles.
Now, just because she's gained a bit of strength, she struts around, full of herself, completely blind to her place.
Still... perhaps Dublinn could be of some use.
Cape gave a faint nod and agreed to Mandragora's request.
"Trust me, this is the smartest decision you'll ever make!"
Having achieved her goal, Mandragora stood up, forcing herself to keep a cool, composed face, though her tail practically twitched with excitement.
She tossed a line meant to sound impressive and turned to leave—but not before placing some coins on the table for the tea and snacks she'd just enjoyed.
Cape, used to this sort of thing, casually scooped the money up.
Tch... short by one coin. Next time she comes, I'll make her pay double.
---
"Mandragora, off to persuade your little boyfriend again~?"
In one of Dublinn's secret bases, a green-haired, green-eyed Feline woman wearing a white coat leaned lazily against a table, her smirk full of mischief as she teased the newly returned Mandragora.
"W-What boyfriend? Green Cat, shut your mouth right now!"
Mandragora's face flushed crimson as she raised her staff, ready to give her comrade a lesson she wouldn't forget.
How could someone say something so reckless?!
If that kind of rumor spread, how would she ever maintain her dignity in front of her subordinates?!
"Enough, Mandragora. And you too, Harmonie—stop spreading words that harm internal harmony."
A calm, mature woman's voice came from behind the curtain at the end of the room.
Both Mandragora and Green Cat instantly froze.
As senior members of Dublinn, they knew exactly who that voice belonged to.
It was her—the true leader of Dublinn.
Most members believed the leader's younger sister was in charge, but only a select few knew the truth.
"...Understood."
Mandragora reluctantly stopped channeling her Originium Arts.
The last thing she wanted was to displease their leader.
She had been one of the first to follow her—and held deep admiration for both the leader herself and the Draco bloodline that flowed within her.
Having once suffered under Victoria's oppressive nobility, Mandragora harbored a burning hatred for the aristocReiss—and an equally fierce obsession with status and power.
"...I understand. Mandragora, you may leave. I have something to discuss with Harmonie."
As Mandragora turned to go, still visibly irritated, Green Cat stuck her tongue out and made a mocking face behind her back.
"Stop it, Harmonie."
When Mandragora was gone, the leader behind the curtain spoke again.
"Have you still not uncovered the full background of the Cape Group?"
Green Cat's grin faded.
"My apologies, Leader. Information has been... limited."
She took out a stack of documents and handed them over.
"Cape Group was founded by a child who once wandered the streets of Tara.
He left his hometown and built his fortune from scratch—starting with a tiny business and climbing step by step until he became a commercial giant.
Honestly, if this were written in a novel, no one would believe it.
But apparently, it's all true. He built that empire with his own two hands."
"...That's highly improbable."
"Indeed. The Cape Group's expansion has been unbelievably fast. Even the old powerhouse—the Schwire Conglomerate—is starting to feel the pressure. If he were to truly fund us, Dublinn's logistics would be fully secured."
"But what does he want in return?"
"Uh... maybe Mandragora herself? They knew each other as children, after all. Though honestly, I can't imagine what anyone sees in that arrogant loudmouth."
"...Harmonie."
"Alright, alright. Then maybe... he's simply grown tired of those greedy Victorian nobles. Their appetite just keeps getting bigger, and without noble blood, Cape Group is nothing more than a coin purse in their eyes."
"...Perhaps. Continue investigating him."
"Sigh... wouldn't it be better to leave that to Mandragora?"
"...Just do it."
"Yes, ma'am!"
---
Inside the Cape Group Headquarters — CEO & Chairman's Office
"Boss, here's the financial report for the past three months. Please take a look."
A middle-aged man, dressed neatly like a professional secretary, held out a stack of documents with both hands, bowing slightly in respect.
Across from him, Cape was finishing a cheap takeout meal, the aroma of greasy fast food faintly filling the office.
"You can leave it there. I'll review it later."
Wiping his mouth and hands with a napkin, Cape casually tossed the empty wrapper into the trash bin beside his desk.
"...Boss, if I may," the secretary ventured hesitantly, "I think you should be a bit more mindful of your image."
His tone carried a trace of concern.
Their boss—his boss—had a notorious habit of dressing plainly, showing up to meet nobles and business magnates in bargain-store clothes.
At opulent banquets filled with glittering jewelry and polished suits, there was always one violet-haired Feline who stood out like a sore thumb—sipping cola from a wine glass, munching on a cheap hamburger, sometimes even arriving on a bicycle.
Cape looked up from the report. His eyes narrowed slightly.
"...Are you trying to teach me how to do my job?"
He lowered the document, and with an almost playful motion, tapped the secretary on the head with his pen.
A few beads of cold sweat rolled down the man's forehead.
"N-no, sir. I wouldn't dare."
He kept his head bowed low, not daring to look up.
"It's fine," Cape said lightly, slipping the pen back into his pocket. "I actually appreciate when my subordinates speak their minds. After all, I, Cape Reiss, pride myself on being a kind and considerate employer."
He smiled and patted the man on the head—then immediately wiped his hand clean with a tissue, his expression twisting in mild disgust.
"But you should also remember who signs your paycheck... and who lifted you from being a useless nobody who couldn't even feed his family—to a man just one step below the top, with thousands beneath him. Understand?"
He leaned close, his tone almost casual—but the weight in his words pressed like iron.
"I know you've been spending more freely since your salary went up. Buying designer clothes, chasing brand names... even getting invited to a few of those noble banquets."
Cape brushed some lint off the man's expensive suit jacket—a jacket that probably cost more than a working family's entire month of expenses.
"I don't care how you live your life. I pay you well so you can spend freely."
"But as one of my senior staff, you should know my style by now... and understand one thing clearly—"
"I hate when people try to restrict my freedom. Got it?"
The secretary nodded rapidly, trembling slightly, eager to escape.
"Good. Now, take out the trash."
"B-but, sir, isn't that the janitor's job—"
"Hmm?"
"Y-yes, boss! Right away!"
The man scurried off in panic, clutching the bin.
Cape glanced down at his own outfit—cheap shirt, worn sneakers, and a faded jacket.
Indeed, nothing about him looked expensive.
But he didn't care.