Watogang

Infuriating.

It was truly infuriating.

It was as vexing as anything could possibly be.

And yet, there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

I resigned myself to the situation and began the journey. It was a mere ten-minute trip by carriage. Walking would have been significantly faster, but a nobleman traveled by carriage as a matter of principle.

I stepped down from the vehicle before the gates of my destination. Having sent a messenger ahead to announce my arrival, I was ushered into the mansion without delay.

The master of the house was not there to greet me.

I understood why. He was already at that place.

I had visited this estate enough times to know its layout by heart. Informing the servants that I required no guide, I proceeded alone.

Sure enough, the master of the mansion was waiting for me in the designated room, a smile playing across his face.

Good grief, he really was infuriating.

My name is Watogang—Watogang Pugyal. I am the head of a Count’s house within the Demon Kingdom.

The man standing before me was Beezel Chrome. Like me, he was a Count of the realm. However, he held the title of one of the Four Heavenly Kings, a rank far superior to my own.

I was envious.

...No, that wasn't quite right. I wasn't envious at all.

The Four Heavenly Kings were perpetually buried in work. I had seen him at the castle on numerous occasions, looking like a ghost of a man. When he was in that state, I couldn't even bring myself to tease him. In fact, I usually hid just to avoid getting dragged into whatever mess he was handling.

"Welcome, Count Pugyal. What brings you here today?"

Damn, he had beaten me to the greeting. Even between close friends, etiquette mattered. I needed to ensure I didn't fall behind.

"Don't give me that 'what brings you here' nonsense. You know exactly why I’ve come, Count Chrome."

Indeed, he knew my reasons perfectly well. That was why he hadn't bothered meeting me at the door and had simply waited here.

Infuriating.

Count Chrome was waiting for me in the mansion’s game room. In the center of the space sat a massive, rectangular table.

Ugh, the craftsmanship was impeccable. It was solid and heavy, equipped with a mechanism to maintain a perfectly level surface. Every detail was meticulously finished.

I wanted it. I wanted it with every fiber of my being.

I absolutely had to have this billiard table!

However, even I had my pride. Before I had even considered asking for one, I had checked to see if it could be replicated within my own territory.

The conclusion? It was possible.

While my local furniture makers hadn't seen the actual piece—making an exact replica impossible—they had assured me they could build something similar. Bravo to the craftsmen of my domain! Even if it would take them an entire year to finish it.

Dammit!

The table had six holes, called pockets—one at each corner and one in the middle of each long side. Simply cutting the holes was easy enough, but the internal mechanism that rolled the balls to a single collection point was apparently a nightmare to engineer.

One craftsman had suggested simply attaching nets to each hole and collecting the balls individually. That might have been more practical, but I felt like that would be admitting defeat to Count Chrome. I told them to keep trying.

...The table was one thing, but I was told the billiard balls were an impossibility.

Perfectly weighted, unwarped wooden spheres. The center of gravity had to be flawless. Making one was feasible, but producing a full set of identical size and weight was deemed beyond their capabilities.

Well, they were furniture makers, I suppose. I had tried the woodworking guild next, but they gave me the same answer.

If that was the case, then what were these balls on Count Chrome’s table? Was the skill of the woodworkers in his territory that much higher? Or had they discovered some new application of magic?

I had currently commissioned the woodworking guild and the mages association in my territory to research the production of billiard balls. I held out hope for a breakthrough.

For the time being, however, I had to concede defeat. It was galling, but I admitted it. That was why I was here—to play billiards.

I had become obsessed with the game recently. The physical sensation of striking a ball with a cue was exhilarating. Controlling the movement of the spheres and watching them drop into the pockets made my heart soar. My only grievance was that I had to travel all the way to Count Chrome’s estate to enjoy it. I needed one of my own, and soon.

"Which cue will you use?" Count Chrome asked, gesturing toward his collection.

I scoffed. "A generous offer, but unnecessary. I shall use this."

I presented the cue I had brought with me. It had been custom-made by a woodworker in my lands, featuring just enough ornamentation to look regal without interfering with its balance. It was a tool worthy of my station.

The cues Count Chrome used were made of excellent materials, but their designs were strictly utilitarian. For a nobleman’s pastime, I felt they lacked aesthetic grace. Fortunately, only the material and size of the tip were regulated; one could be quite creative with the grip and overall design. I intended to maintain my standards of beauty alongside performance.

"I see. A fine cue indeed. However, a match is not decided by the tools, but by the player."

I knew that, of course. But for the sake of the craftsman who had labored over this cue, I could not afford to lose.

We began our match of Nine-ball.

The rules were straightforward: balls numbered one through nine and a cue ball were on the table. You had to strike the cue ball to hit the lowest-numbered ball remaining. If you failed to pocket a ball, or if the cue ball itself went in, your turn ended. The player who pocketed the nine-ball claimed victory.

It sounded simple, but if other balls obstructed your path to the target, a straight shot was impossible. Furthermore, even if you hit the target, the angle might prevent it from going into a pocket. It was a game of immense depth.

A coin toss gave Count Chrome the break.

While he played, I should have remained silent, but it was a rare occasion for two heads of major houses to be alone together. We used the time for information exchange.

"By the way, I heard the Prince of Gorunzen arrived," I remarked.

The Gorunzen Kingdom was one of the human nations. They had come to the Demon Kingdom to negotiate an alliance. They had been a hostile power until recently, and I was curious about the sudden shift in policy.

"Their objective is food," Beezel replied.

"Food? I thought the situation in the human kingdoms was improving. We’ve been providing support from the shadows, haven't we?"

"It seems they were struck by a localized disaster."

"A disaster?"

"You know of the floating island in the sky over Gorunzen? It fell."

"...You can't be serious."

"It's true. It landed in a river, causing catastrophic flooding to the downstream farmlands. The Korin Religion is providing aid, so they haven't seen mass starvation yet, but it will take years for the land to recover. None of their neighbors have enough surplus to support them."

"So they came to the Demon Kingdom."

"We were enemies, yes, but we never actually went to war with them. It's a pill the common folk can swallow."

"I see. But why send that prince as an envoy? The rumors at the castle say he’s a hopeless womanizer."

"The prince is quite capable. He only makes advances toward women who are guaranteed to reject him."

"Oh? So the lecherousness is a facade? A survival tactic for a succession struggle?"

"Actually, it felt more like he simply wanted to disqualify himself from the throne."

"I see. Then the illness he suffered during the journey was also..."

"No, that was genuine. He risked his life to continue the journey for the sake of the alliance. He’s quite the gentleman. Oops..."

Beezel missed his shot.

I chuckled. Only the eight and nine balls remained. It was a simple layout. This game was as good as mine.

The second game began. Since I had won the first, I took the break. The balls scattered beautifully. As long as I didn't get careless, I was in the clear. Count Chrome watched my play while sipping sake from a glass. He was no doubt admiring my rock-steady technique.

"That reminds me, Count Pugyal. How is the 'cleanup' of the Royal Capital progressing?"

"The cleanup?" I echoed. He couldn't be talking about the community service cleaning days I attended every ten days. I always did my part. Which meant... "Are you referring to the back alleys?"

'Back alley' wasn't a specific location; it was a collective term for the various underworld organizations—the thieves, the assassins, the kidnappers. They were an open secret, often tolerated as a necessary evil. They weren't an existential threat to the kingdom.

However, since early summer, the Demon King had begun a systematic purge. The malicious elements were being dismantled, while the more cooperative groups were being spared on the condition that they drastically scale back their operations for several years, starting next spring.

Those who resisted were crushed by the army. Some tried to assassinate the Demon King, but their plots were unearthed by the tireless work of a single High Elf. Others tried to challenge him openly, which was brave, but they were swiftly eliminated by the three dragons the Demon King had commissioned.

I had seen those women practicing with wooden sticks at the castle and thought they were just bored ladies-in-waiting. To think they were actually dragons... I had no idea how the Demon King had managed to tame such creatures.

Regardless, the underworld realized they couldn't win and approached me and Count Gritch to mediate. That was toward the end of autumn. Count Chrome was likely asking for an update on that situation.

"I relayed the Demon King's terms, and they’ve agreed to the scale-down. The lot of them claimed they would have complied from the start if he’d just been honest about his reasons, but..."

"Well, we both know that's a lie," Beezel noted.

I nodded in agreement. ...Wait.

I had messed up. Because I had nodded while leaning over for my shot...

Ugh.

The Demon King's reason for the purge was simple. A group of individuals with the status of national guests were going to attend the Garugardo Academy. During their stay, he wanted to ensure they were never targeted by crime, nor even exposed to the criminal element.

It seemed a bit overprotective, but the Demon King viewed their safety as a matter of national survival. He hadn't told the back alleys the truth from the beginning because some of those fools would have tried to get involved just for the thrill of it.

I lost the second game. How humiliating.

Game three.

Count Chrome’s opening shot pocketed the four-ball, but he was left with a terrible layout. The one-ball was obscured by the seven and eight. A direct shot was impossible, and even a bank shot off the cushion looked bleak.

I smirked. This was a stroke of luck for me. He’d be yielding the table any moment now.

Or so I thought, until Count Chrome sat on the edge of the table. What was he doing? He gripped his cue vertically.

I stepped closer to see what he was planning. He struck the cue ball from above, imparting a fierce spin that caused the ball to curve around the obstacles and strike the one-ball perfectly.

............

"Wait! That was incredible! What was that?"

"Heh heh. It is a technique known as a Massé."

"That's cheating! How do you know a trick like that?"

"Actually, I learned it from your daughter."

"My daughter? Enderi?"

"No, your fourth daughter."

"Kurakasse? You... you haven't laid a hand on her, have you?"

"Mind your tongue. If my wife heard that, she’d have my head. I know your daughter is charming, but do you really think I’m that sort of man?"

"My apologies."

"Your fourth daughter is living a quiet, peaceful life at the estate of a friend of the Demon King. You’ve received her letters, haven't you?"

"I have."

The letters were so out of character for Kurakasse that I had suspected forgery, but they used a family cipher known only to us. It had to be her.

"I met her in Village Five. Is this 'friend' of the Demon King that Lady Yoko?" I asked.

She was a beautiful, brilliant woman who possessed power seemingly equal to the Demon King himself. I had suspected she might be the King's hidden lover, but...

"No, Lady Yoko's superior," Beezel corrected.

"Her superior...? So Kurakasse is serving that person."

"Alongside my own daughter."

I knew that much. I had also heard that Holly, the formidable head housekeeper of the Chrome estate, had gone there as well. I wanted to press for more details, but... my survival instincts flared.

I called it instinct, but it was a hereditary skill passed down through the House of Pugyal, something akin to a divine oracle. It was never wise to ignore it. I had reached my current station by listening to that inner voice.

Don't go any further.

Understood. I'll leave it be.

The third game went to Count Chrome. I didn't mind the loss—I could accept that.

But before we start the fourth game, you are absolutely teaching me that Massé shot! It looks far too cool for only you to know! And since it’s you, I’m sure you’re hiding other tricks! Teach me everything!