Second Life, I’m Dying Soon Chapter 79

Chapter 79

 

Alexis immediately rushed out and began searching for Cecil. He flung open the doors of every lounge he came across, and whenever he saw someone, he would grab them one by one to check their face.

 

The people who had been chatting inside each room nearly leapt out of their skin when the Crown Prince suddenly stormed in. His expression was frozen so coldly that it was frightening; more than a few found apologies spilling from their mouths before they even knew why.

 

Alexis repeated this roughly fifteen times. When he failed to find Cecil even after sweeping through an entire floor, he expanded his search to the next one. As he ascended the central staircase, he finally caught sight of some familiar faces.

 

The attendants of Peridot Palace stood guard before a door, all of them visibly at a loss. The moment he saw them, Alexis sensed that something had gone wrong. Without hesitation, he quickened his steps.

 

“Is Cecil inside?”

 

At the abrupt question, delivered without any preamble, the attendants hurriedly straightened themselves and answered.

 

“Well… Lord Cecil’s clothes were soaked, so we attempted to assist him in changing. However, a guest from Kazarjan entered with him and locked the door from inside. We heard shouting coming from within, and we were deeply concerned, but we were unable to enter, Your Highness.”

 

“Step aside.”

 

The attendants obeyed immediately. Once they moved away from the door, Alexis tried the handle himself. Click. The latch was firmly locked and refused to turn.

 

Without a moment’s hesitation, Alexis stepped back.

 

Bang! Crash!

 

At his brazen kick, the ivory-made doorknob shattered completely. He kicked the door several more times. Cracks spread across the stark white wooden surface, and with a sharp tearing sound—crack—a gap finally appeared. The door was open at last.

 

The moment he rushed inside, he saw the forms of two people tangled together on the floor.

 

Cecil was using all his strength to restrain Kilian. Pinning down someone larger and stronger than himself left him no room to spare his attention elsewhere.

 

“Cecil!”

 

Only upon hearing Alexis’s voice did Cecil turn his head.

 

Before he could even acknowledge him, he was pulled upright, stumbling briefly as he was dragged to his feet. Alexis seized him firmly and inspected him from head to toe.

 

Cecil’s hair was disheveled and plastered down with sweat. His shirt was a complete mess, several buttons torn clean off—clear evidence of how fierce the struggle had been.

 

Cecil steadied his ragged breathing and slowly lifted his head. He noticed Alexis’s gaze fixed on his lips and hurriedly covered them with the back of his hand. His mouth stung faintly; it seemed he’d been struck there during the scuffle, leaving a small tear.

 

“…Your Highness.”

 

Cecil called to him cautiously. Alexis’s face looked moments away from erupting in fury. The grip on Cecil’s shoulders was painfully tight, but he couldn’t bring himself to complain.

 

“Ugh, damn it! Call a physician, now!”

 

Kilian lay sprawled on the floor, screaming at the top of his lungs. It was nothing more than a dislocated shoulder, yet he carried on as though he were on the brink of death.

 

Alexis’s blue eyes turned toward Kilian’s disgraceful display. Slowly, he shifted his direction and approached the Kazarjan prince.

 

“Do you require assistance?”

 

“Can’t you see?! I’m in agony!”

 

“Let me take a look.”

 

Alexis placed his boot squarely on Kilian’s chest. It was a rude act, but also a preparatory step to reset the dislocated joint. He gently shook Kilian’s arm once or twice, then delivered an absurd conclusion.

 

“It seems your arm is broken.”

 

“What do you think you’re—!”

 

Without hesitation, Alexis twisted Kilian’s arm.

 

With his foot pressing down on the chest and a sudden surge of force—*crack*—a sickening sound rang out as the shoulder joint snapped fully back into place. At the same time, a horrific scream erupted.

 

Cecil gasped in shock and cried out.

 

“Your Highness!”

 

But Alexis looked perfectly calm, as though he had merely finished an ordinary task. He gazed down indifferently at the writhing Kilian. Not a trace of guilt could be found in his cold eyes.

 

“You should see a royal physician at once.”

 

“Aaagh!! You insane bastard!!”

 

“You’d do well to mind your language.”

 

“Do you even know who I am?! How dare you treat me like—!”

 

“Shut up and stay where you are. You should be grateful I ended it at this.”

 

Alexis tossed out the brief warning and turned away. While the attendants scrambled to contain the sudden chaos, he attended to Cecil first.

 

In that short span of time, all color had drained from Cecil’s face. He looked deathly pale, clearly shaken by what he had just witnessed.

 

“Are you injured anywhere?”

 

“I’m… fine.”

 

“Fine, my foot.”

 

Clicking his tongue, Alexis gently brushed his thumb across the corner of Cecil’s mouth. Of all places, it had to be his face.

 

“That was one hell of a fight. You used your self-defense training properly.”

 

“I just… my body moved on its own.”

 

“You did well.”

 

Alexis pulled Cecil into his arms, enclosing him tightly. He could feel Cecil’s heart pounding violently against his chest. Though he didn’t show it, Cecil was still trembling from the shock.

 

Moved by pity, Alexis held him even closer.

 

“There’s no need to worry. The fault lies more with me than with you. Any reprimand will fall on me.”

 

“You broke his arm on purpose, didn’t you? You promised me—and yet, why…?”

 

“Well, I suppose this was bound to happen eventually. If problems arise, we’ll deal with them.”

 

“……”

 

Despite the gentle tone, Cecil couldn’t shake his anxiety. Fate, always flowing back to its predetermined course, felt cruel beyond measure.

 

That very night, the siblings of Kazarjan left the Empire. Shortly thereafter, an official letter bearing the royal seal of Kazarjan arrived.

 

As expected, the letter detailed Crown Prince Alexis’s rude and violent behavior and declared that all diplomatic exchange with the Empire would be severed until he came to Kazarjan to offer a sincere apology in person.

 

The Emperor was furious at Alexis’s actions and went so far as to place the full responsibility squarely on his shoulders.

 

Of course, Alexis had no intention of acting according to Kazarjan’s wishes. He would rather see relations cut off entirely than bow his head before Kilian—such a thing was unthinkable.

 

As a result, he had been spending his days busy stabilizing the increasingly shaky political climate. Being shut away in his office, holding strategy meetings one after another, had become his daily routine.

 

“Salt is the biggest issue. In just three months, the Empire’s circulating supply will be exhausted.”

 

Setting aside the document he’d been reading, Alexis let out a long sigh. The volume of salt imports they had been relying on from Kazarjan far exceeded even his estimates.

 

The treasurer seated at the conference table offered his opinion.

 

“Even if we secure as much as possible from other nations, there will still be a gap of several months.”

 

“And how much do we have stockpiled in the imperial warehouses?”

 

The treasurer hurriedly flipped through records. Before long, a puzzled sound slipped out.

 

“What is it?”

 

“The salt… we have plenty. At this level, we could last half a year.”

 

Alexis stood and examined the records himself. He, too, was taken aback by the numbers. The supply wasn’t merely sufficient—it was overflowing.

 

“How could it have increased this much? Does anyone know why? An explanation is needed.”

 

At that, Chief Aide Tristan spoke cautiously.

 

“I believe Lord Cecil significantly increased the quantities of salt and spices imported from Kazarjan.”

 

“…Cecil? Since when?”

 

“To my knowledge, it’s been about a year. Most advisors opposed the decision, but he stubbornly pushed it through. Salt doesn’t spoil when stored, so he ultimately had his way—but at the time, many criticized it as wasteful excess.”

 

Alexis rubbed at his lips, thinking silently. A year ago—that was when Cecil had just been appointed as a strategist.

 

The first thing he did upon gaining authority to influence domestic policy was to stockpile salt. To most people, it would have been incomprehensible.

 

But what if Cecil had known that salt would become scarce in the future? Everything fell into place.

 

Alexis grew increasingly certain. His heart raced, the sensation spreading until even his palms tingled. He opened and closed his hands several times before finally pushing back his chair and standing.

 

“Continue the meeting. I’ll step out for a moment.”

 

He headed straight for Peridot Palace. It was common knowledge that Cecil had been holed up there lately. Sure enough, he was shut away in the study even now.

 

“We need to talk.”

 

As Alexis roughly opened the door and entered, Cecil hastily scattered the papers on his desk. His startled eyes shot a reproachful glance at the attendants. It was a look asking why they hadn’t stopped him.

 

“Glares won’t change anything.”

 

“What is this all of a sudden?”

 

Cecil’s reply was curt. If Alexis had been overwhelmingly busy lately, Cecil had been perpetually on edge.

 

Knowing what the future held was a heavier burden than one might think—especially when that future led in a grim direction.

 

Alexis walked up to the desk and swept aside the scattered papers.

 

At the very bottom lay a book written in an incomprehensible language, with papers beside it filled with dense scribbles. The ink was still wet, as if he’d been writing only moments ago.

 

Alexis examined the writing carefully. The jumbled characters were impossible to identify as belonging to any known language.

 

“What is this?”

 

“It’s nothing important. Just meaningless doodling.”

 

Cecil hurriedly closed the book and crumpled the papers, tossing them beneath the desk. He couldn’t allow Alexis to take any further interest in his code.

 

He deliberately stepped forward, placing himself in front of the desk—even if it meant using his own body as a shield to divert attention.

 

“What did you want to talk about?”

 

“……”

 

Alexis gazed down at Cecil, who bristled like a hedgehog. It was as if he were trying to peel away every lie, scrutinizing even the smallest shifts in expression.

 

“I’ll ask you directly. Did you know Kazarjan would cut off relations with us?”

 

“I anticipated it.”

 

“You started stockpiling salt a year ago. You were anticipating it back then?”

 

“I tend to worry excessively. There’s no harm in being prepared, is there?”

 

Cecil answered smoothly. He had expected this interrogation and had prepared his responses in advance.

 

Alexis narrowed his eyes. He had known Cecil wouldn’t admit it so easily.

 

“Fine. Then I’ll change the question. What about telling Johannes the day he would die?”

 

“…….”

 

“Was that also your ‘anticipation’?”