100% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full?

Edric who was standing just behind Lucien, suddenly choked.

Lucien tilted his head.

"Uncle Ed. Is the King possibly bal—?"

Before he could finish, Edric clamped a hand over his mouth. With his other hand, he lifted a finger to his lips, warning him not to continue.

Then he leaned closer and whispered,

"Nephew. Don't. He is. But don't say it… It's his sore spot."

Lucien blinked. From where he stood, he couldn't even see the top of the King's head. He was too short.

But if that painting was accurate, then yes… that was how the King really looked.

'No wonder he always tilts his chin up as if looking down at everyone. He was hiding this… Wait. I just thought of the perfect gift!'

Lucien's eyes lit up. He no longer had to rack his brain about what to give.

Edric sighed and added in a low voice.

"He's tried everything. Commissioned the best alchemists to make hair-growth potions but nothing worked. Don't tell anyone I said this... I only know because I often speak with him when I deliver taxes."

Lucien fell silent. Nothing worked?

He remembered the recipe he had given Elira Flaskveil, the Alchemy Department Head, one designed for exactly this.

If even that hadn't worked then the King's baldness wasn't ordinary.

'Side effects of a skill, maybe?'

Still, Lucien was confident. His drops contained divine energy. If anything could work, it would be his.

Suddenly, Lucien noticed something odd.

The nobles at the front of the line were quietly slipping toward the back, their faces pale with fear.

None of them wanted to be caught in the King's wrath. Even Kyle and Selene hesitated, exchanging uneasy glances.

Lucien shrugged and suggested he could go first. In the next moment, he found himself standing at the very front.

He was curious.

What would the King do next?

And then it happened.

King Midas's eyes locked with his.

For a tense heartbeat, the King's expression was dark. Unreadable.

Then his features softened. He cleared his throat as if embarrassed... but masked it beneath regal composure.

With a deep voice, he said, "Nice painting."

Lucien tilted his head.

To him, the King seemed perfectly reasonable.

Calm.

Dignified.

What was everyone so afraid of?

The truth was simple. Lucien couldn't feel it.

The King's oppressive aura filled the hall but Lucien's Sovereign Aura naturally canceled it out.

He could sense the King's strength, yes... but it didn't weigh on him.

For the others, it was different.

The pressure crushed down on them like a storm.

Those nearby turned pale.

Some trembled.

A few struggled to breathe.

Yet Lucien remained completely unaffected, casually thinking the King was just another old guy.

Then King Midas gestured for the servant to cover the painting. He even turned to the noble who had made it and offered thanks.

The entire hall exhaled at once, releasing a breath they hadn't realized they were holding.

The tension broke.

Voices returned, laughter stirred and nobles praised the King for his magnanimity.

The painter himself nearly collapsed from relief. His face, once drained of color, slowly regained its flush.

He hadn't meant to insult the King. His skill simply didn't allow restraint. Once he began, he had to paint exactly what he saw. For a moment he thought it would cost him his life… but Midas had let it go.

The King then turned toward Lucien. His lips curled into a smile and gave him a small nod.

Lucien stepped forward, bowing lightly.

"My King, I have the perfect gift prepared just for you."

He slipped a hand into his pocket, appearing as though he were searching inside. But in truth, his fingers brushed the unseen space of his INVENTORY.

Suddenly, Lucien revealed it.

A sleek, unfamiliar bottle.

Modern in design.

Utterly out of place in the grand hall.

A shampoo.

"This," Lucien declared, holding it up with confidence, "is called shampoo. It can encourage hair growth, restoring vigor even to barren crowns. May your hair shine as brightly as your reign."

Silence fell like a hammer.

Faces froze.

Eyes bulged.

Not a single person moved.

Behind him, Edric's jaw dangled open. Maxim dragged a hand down his face in disbelief.

Even the musicians faltered. The music cut off mid-note again, leaving the hall so quiet that even a falling pin would have been deafening.

Time itself seemed to hesitate.

Lucien blinked, confused by the reaction.

'What? Bald men want their hair back, don't they? '

On Earth, his father had always complained about it.

Surely, the King would treasure something like this.

Suddenly…

A shift.

The King rose to his feet.

His eyes fixed on Lucien.

His expression unreadable.

Step by step, he descended from his high seat. Each footfall echoed through the silent hall like the toll of a bell.

The nobles swallowed hard.

Edric tensed, ready to beg for forgiveness at any moment.

Magnus and his faction smirked, savoring the scene.

Harold, who had just returned, bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

They all thought the same thing. Lucien was finished.

At last, King Midas stood before him.

The hall was frozen. Every noble's face tight with anticipation, every gaze locked on the boy and the monarch.

Then… the King moved.

His hand lifted...

...before landing firmly on Lucien's shoulder.

And then—

"GAHAHAHAHA!" Midas's booming laughter shook the chamber. "A good gift! A very good gift! This is the greatest present I have received in decades. Baron, I truly appreciate this. No one else has ever dared to give me something so thoughtful!"

Midas turned the bottle in his hand, studying it closely. A faint glow flickered in his eyes. He could sense it. The energy within was not ordinary.

'This one… this one will work.'

Lucien smiled. He had no doubts. Of course the King would like it.

After all, what bald man wouldn't?

But the nobles were stunned. None of them expected this reaction. The King wasn't angry. In fact… he looked genuinely happy.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

A few even chuckled nervously.

Their gazes shifted toward Lucien.

Bold.

Fearless.

Unpredictable.

This was Lucien.

Then Midas's voice cut across the hall like a blade.

"Sir Cielius, please put down your aura. I did nothing."

The nobles froze. Only then did they notice him.

In one shadowed corner stood Cielius.

His aura was condensed into a deadly spike.

Thick.

Mighty.

Unyielding.

He had been ready to strike at any moment.

Gasps spread. They hadn't even realized it was there.

Midas raised a hand, stopping the guards before they could move.

"Good." Cielius calmly withdrew his aura and returned to his seat as if nothing had happened.

Midas gave a wry smile.

No one could believe what had just happened.

The King had not only forgiven Cielius. He had even brushed it aside. That alone revealed how much he favored the man.

But before anyone could dwell on it, another surprise shook the hall.

From the inner chamber, an old man emerged.

His presence was undeniable.

At once, the crowd realized who it was.

The Pope.

Whispers spread like wildfire. Nobles bowed as he passed, each offering greetings.

The Pope returned their respect with a serene smile. His every gesture radiated the warmth of a gentle soul.

Midas's eyes narrowed.

And then...

Pope Augustus stood before them.

The hall froze.

Two sovereigns... now stood side by side. Their presence alone almost bent the air.

The weight of their auras pressed on the nobles like a mountain. Some could not even raise their heads. Some paled. A few trembled where they stood.

But amid that crushing atmosphere, one figure stood untouched.

Lucien.

He didn't even flinch.

The Pope's voice rang gently yet it carried a weight that silenced the hall.

"Baron… do you possibly have one more? I can grant you anything... even a personal favor... as a reward."

A collective gasp swept through the nobles.

A favor from the Pope? That was beyond priceless.

Lucien's eyes narrowed.

He had already recognized the insignia of the Holy Nation but now, feeling the weight of the man's presence, he confirmed it. The Pope's aura was as vast and commanding as the King's yet wholly different.

Lucien extended his Divine Sense.

Clara had once said the Pope felt indifferent, detached from mortal concerns.

But to Lucien… it wasn't so simple.

What he saw was not indifference but something more elusive.

A hue that clung neither to warmth nor to cold. It was an existence set apart... neither cruel nor kind but standing on a height where such measures blurred into insignificance.

Lucien exhaled slowly.

So this was Pope Augustus.

Then, with casual ease, Lucien rummaged through his pocket again.

And from it, he produced another bottle.

A second shampoo.

Lucien was just about to hand the bottle to the Pope when—

Snatch.

King Midas's hand moved faster than anyone expected, claiming it for himself.

His deep voice dropped low, sharp enough that only those nearby could hear.

"Augustus… is it your birthday or mine?"

Lucien blinked.

Speechless.

The other nobles couldn't hear them.

Pope Augustus fell silent for a moment, his gentle smile unmoving. Then he replied in a calm whisper. His words were sharp as scripture.

"Midas, I came here to bless your birthday. Let go of greed. It is the greatest sin. Do not be petty."

The two titans locked gazes and sparks seemed to crackle invisibly between them.

Lucien, meanwhile, nearly snorted.

'Two bald men fighting over shampoo? Unbelievable.'

But he didn't want to drag this on. He had already given his present.

He raised a hand politely. "Please… I have more. If either of you needs more, just tell me."

At that, both men's eyes lit up.

Augustus finally accepted the bottle. His fingers tightened around it as his aura rippled faintly.

He studied it in silence as though beholding some divine secret.

"…Such purity," he murmured.

The King huffed, half-annoyed but still grinning while the Pope whispered praises to the energy sealed within.

And with that, Lucien excused himself and calmly returned to his seat... leaving behind an uproar of murmurs and disbelief.

Every eye followed Lucien as he returned to his seat.

No one looked at him the same anymore.

Someone who could make both the King and the Pope beam with satisfaction over a single gift? Clearly, he was no ordinary Baron.

Soon after, the other nobles stepped forward with their offerings.

Yet the King, distracted and restless, barely spared them more than a glance. His mind was elsewhere... already eager to test the shampoo.

A ripple of disappointment spread through the hall.

Some nobles clenched their teeth wishing they had gone earlier in the line.

Others secretly cursed Lucien for stealing the limelight so effortlessly.

Finally, King Midas stood and raised his voice.

"Everyone, I shall return shortly. In the meantime, move to the court floor and enjoy yourselves. Dance!"

With that, he left the chamber together with the Pope.

The hall shifted under the lead of servants. Music swelled pleasantly as they guided the nobles to a broad adjoining chamber. Laughter and soft steps soon filled the air.

Amidst it all, Lucien was surrounded.

Edric thumped his back with his usual bear-like strength, laughing loudly. Lucien dodged each heavy-handed pat with a strained smile as if avoiding the swipes of a hammer.

Vivian, meanwhile, puffed her chest proudly, basking in the reflected glow of Lucien's feat. Her circle of friends looked at him with shining eyes.

And across the floor, more than a few nobles watched in silence.

Their smiles hid schemes. Their whispers carried intent.

Lucien had just risen several steps higher in their eyes...

...and for that, they were already planning something.

Suddenly…

A group of four ladies glided toward Lucien.

They were dressed in elegant gowns glittering with jewels.

Each carried herself with the haughty air of someone far too used to being admired.

Lucien let his Divine Sense sweep over them.

He almost laughed.

Their colors were muddled. A storm of vanity, pride and overconfidence.

Spoiled.

Entitled.

Overbearing.

Curious, he activated INSPECT.

"…As expected," Lucien muttered under his breath. They were pawns... daughters from noble houses he had no interest in touching.

Sent for probing.

Perhaps to test his temperament.

Perhaps to angle for marriage ties.

Or worse, honey traps disguised in silk and perfume.

Lucien nearly cringed at the thought.

One of the ladies raised her fan coyly, hiding half her smirk.

"Sigh… if only a proper gentleman would invite me to dance."

"Even a Baron would suffice," another added.

"Oh, look—there is one right here."

Another fluttered her lashes.

"Baron, I give you the honor of dancing with me."

They giggled, circling closer as if he'd already agreed.

They chattered.

But Lucien's expression remained unmoved.

He was already bored.

The ladies kept talking. Their words tumbled over one another, sprinkled with jabs Lucien didn't bother registering.

But eventually, their haughty tones began to grate on him.

He sighed.

"You know," Lucien finally said, "the three of you actually look good."

The ladies froze.

Their ears perked and their eyes gleamed like cats spotting prey.

Compliments...they lived for them.

Then slowly, they looked at each other.

Counted.

…Three?

But there were four of them.

One's smile faltered. Another's brow twitched. Suspicion sparked like flint among them.

Curiosity or perhaps dread pushed one of them to ask.

"Baron… who is the one that doesn't?"

Lucien smirked.

"That's for you to figure out. Do that and I might grant one of you a dance."

Silence fell like a blade.

Then... chaos.

"I know it isn't me!" one snapped.

"Please, you're the plainest one here!" another shot back.

"Ha! Says the one hiding behind a mountain of powder!"

"How dare you—"

The argument spiraled instantly into shrieks and accusations. Each refused to admit the possibility of being the "ugly one."

Lucien quietly stepped away, slipping out of the storm he'd casually unleashed.

Edric had been watching the entire exchange. His jaw hung open before he finally let out a booming laugh.

"Nephew, that was ruthless! Even I wouldn't have thought of that. Those four will never be friends again. Maybe even their families will get dragged into it! Gahaha! A cruel cut… but a clean one!"

Lucien only gave a faint shrug.