Reincarnation of a Hunter Chapter 45.1 - The Ducal Succession War

One was the porcelain made by Nguyen Phuong Linh, a forgery expert I had discovered in the hallway some time ago. 

 

It was such an exquisitely crafted counterfeit that it was beautiful enough to adorn the hallway.

 

‘But why did he put two in? What’s the intention? Could it be to force a mistake by insisting on it?’

 

A judgment was needed within a short time. 

 

If I misread the Duke’s intention, I would lose. I turned my head and looked at Duke Veneto’s face.

 

He, who met my eyes, had an expression that said, ‘Why?’

 

‘He doesn’t seem to know. Then it’s one of two things. Either someone else set this up, or he’s mistaking the fake for the real thing.’

 

Well, there is one way to handle it that makes either case irrelevant.

 

‘I hope this works.’

 

I waited until Vincent chose the fake, and he, as expected, picked the counterfeit porcelain without much trouble.

 

I also announced that the porcelain Vincent had chosen was a fake.

 

And then.

 

“Everyone, there is one more fake. That white porcelain inlaid plum vase is an imitation.”

 

Duke Veneto was startled by my words.

 

He immediately refuted, “That’s nonsense. That porcelain is a genuine piece I received as a gift from my brother-in-law, who trades with the East.”

 

What is this? This absurd excuse.

 

Relying on the credibility of the person who brought it, not a professional eye for the authenticity of the work.

 

“Your brother-in-law must have been deceived as well.”

 

“Viscount Marseille. Can you take responsibility for your words?”

 

Without even responding, I strode over and picked up the plum vase.

 

Then, I hurled it straight to the ground, shattering it.

 

―Crash!

 

“What are you doing!”

 

“Count Marseille, please calm down!”

 

While everyone was trying to stop and question me, I pointed at the attendants and instructed.

 

“Examine the inside of the fragments. There will be the forger’s signature.”

 

In my past life, and regardless of East or West, ancient or modern, those who created forgeries always inserted their own signature. 

 

I’m not sure if it’s an artist’s pride, but anyway, it was thanks to that signature that forgeries could be identified.

 

Of course, the reason I was certain there was a signature is because the system told me.

 

[White porcelain inlaid plum vase. A replica copying a national treasure. Inside the vase is the creator’s signature. Made by the reproduction specialist Nguyen Phuong Linh.]

 

One of the attendants picked up a fragment with writing on it.

 

“It’s really here. A signature… It says ‘Phuong Linh’.”

 

There’s no way a cultural relic made long ago would have a signature in a common language. 

 

In terms of my past life, it would be like having a French signature on Goryeo celadon.

 

This, of course, proved it was a forgery.

 

The ducal family members were speechless. Their pride must have been hurt, realizing they had been admiring a fake without knowing it for so long.

 

But right now, we are in the middle of the ducal succession competition. 

 

I quickly reminded them of that fact, “You all heard, right? This is also a fake, which means Vincent failed to identify it.”

 

The Duke of Veneto announced Count Kioja’s victory, looking even more dejected than yesterday.

 

“…Today’s winner is also Matteo.”

 

Then, as he rose from his seat, he staggered.

 

“Ugh!”

 

“Father!”

 

Count Kioja dashed forward like lightning and supported the Duke.

 

“Let go, you fool. I’m fine.”

 

I thought the banter from yesterday would continue, but it seems the mood isn’t like that today. 

 

The father and son quietly headed outside.

 

And today, Vincent approached me again.

 

“Last year, I heard an absurd rumor. That a noble from the Kingdom of France had received God’s blessing.”

 

That’s a rumor about me.

 

“And then I heard the rumor again that this noble could see right through people. But it seems what he sees through isn’t just limited to people.”

 

Vincent offered me a handshake.

 

“It seems I will likely lose this fight.”

 

Even in sports, winning two matches in a best-of-five series is almost equivalent to a final victory. 

 

It’s too difficult to turn the tables. 

 

A reverse sweep is described as a miracle. Even the clever Vincent seemed to know that saying well.

 

Moreover, even if he does his best, his opponent’s capabilities are too outstanding.

 

Knowing the enemy and knowing yourself, he probably doesn’t dare to fight.

 

‘This guy is such a waste. No matter how I look at it, he’s better than Count Kioja.’

 

I liked him on a personal level. I feel like taking his side, even now. But regardless of my personal feelings, there was something I had to do.

 

Sucking the Veneto territory dry as much as possible.

 

For that, I turn my back on Vincent.

 

‘Sorry, kid. Just endure a little more hardship.’

 

💫

 

Just before returning to the Viscount Kioja’s secondary residence, where we were staying, one of the family’s servants approached me discreetly.

 

“Viscount Marseille, the Lord wishes to see you.”

 

“A private audience?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“So it’s come.”

 

The servant didn’t offer any particular response to my words. It was common knowledge that I was the key player now.

 

Guided by the servant, I entered a study located deep within the lord’s mansion.

 

There, Duke Veneto was sitting alone on a sofa. His current appearance was not his usual dignified impression, but the bare face of a haggard old man.

 

“Have you skipped a meal? Your complexion doesn’t look good.”

 

“…Isn’t this all because of you? Who’s worrying about whom? Oho, really.”

 

He shrugged his shoulders once and sat down.

 

“I’m hungry. Would you care to join me for a snack?”

 

“Seeing you look after an old man, you do have some common sense.”

 

“Of course.”

 

I signaled to a servant and had food prepared.

 

As if it were already ready, within a minute, various snack plates were laid out on the table. I began talking with Duke Veneto while chewing on the snacks.

 

I laid my cards on the table first.

 

“Duke, I have no intention of giving up.”

 

“What reason do you have for looking after Matteo to that extent?”

 

So that you would call me here like this. So you would present a carrot to me.

 

“Because I promised. To help each other.”

 

“Even if I were to make a better offer?”

 

That proposal will probably become increasingly favorable to me. Of course, I will accept it soon.

 

“Yes. I am also a noble, for now. I cannot abandon my honor.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

The Duke of Veneto fell into deep thought.

 

The frown on his brow showed no sign of easing for several minutes.