I Became the Narrow-Eyed Villain in a Dropped Novel

“Puhahahahaha!”

“Stop laughing.”

“No, I can just imagine how he said it, puhahat!”

My brow furrowed deeper at Til’s rare outburst of laughter.

I had expected it wouldn’t be easy, but I didn’t think it’d be like this from the start.

Exhausted from laughing, Til caught her breath and looked at me with sparkling eyes, like a kid begging for a story.

“So, what happened next?”

“Let’s just say there was a lot of cursing, a table got smashed, and a lot of fur flew. If Avantnik hadn’t dragged the Demon representative out, someone would’ve died.”

“Take me with you tomorrow. I want to see it up close.”

“Will there even be a tomorrow…?”

It’s not just a matter of them “fighting.”

A mere professor acting out in front of the Emperor and a Demon trashing the meal granted by the Emperor are diplomatic issues in themselves.

The Vestol ambassador’s face, sagging like his soul had been drained after the meeting, was more pitiful than funny.

“Blaiher must have a headache. His first diplomatic move, and he’s stuck with two lunatics.”

“Sigh…”

Normally, I’d brush off that level of sarcasm, but today, even faking a smile was hard.

Seeing my face, Til read the mood and let out a fake cough.

“All you hear these days is how Vestol bowed first, but if word gets out that it fell apart in a day…”

“That absolutely cannot happen. Not for the Emperor or the Eight Council.”

Those two lunatics may have terrible personalities, but they’re indispensable talents.

Since they’re also directly or indirectly tied to Valheit’s death, they need to be managed even more carefully.

“Um… what do those people have to do with us? Are they important?”

Ede, who had been quiet, timidly raised her hand.

Come to think of it, I explained the Eight Council in general but never mentioned its members.

“Professor Zain from the Vestol Assembly and Avantnik, the Great Captain of Charnirasho, are both members of the Eight Council.”

“Huh, so they’re on the same level as you and Miss Til? They seem kind of… lacking compared to the Weapon Demon and the Old Snake, don’t they?”

“Well, if it’s one-on-one, I’d beat them both.”

Til shrugged.

That’s only because you’re a freak of nature.

But she hit the nail on the head.

“They’re not in the Eight Council for their combat strength. The only one who got in for being stupidly strong is Til.”

“Didn’t you say the Eight Council was made up of the strongest people from different countries?”

“‘Strong’ doesn’t always mean combat strength. They’re not weak, mind you, but they excel in other areas.”

Like any fictional group, the Eight Council members each had distinct traits.

‘Til of Strength,’ ‘Valheit of Schemes,’ and so on.

Professor Zain and Avantnik were defined by technology and navigation, respectively.

In simple terms, a mad scientist and a pirate king.

“So, they’re colleagues, right? But it sounds like they can’t stand each other.”

“That’s just how the Eight Council is.”

Til summed it up neatly.

Exactly.

The Eight Council was a group of seven people who couldn’t get along, brought together by one person.

When that one person left for some reason, the already shaky discipline evaporated entirely.

Just looking at Professor Zain and Avantnik fighting like this.

“Hmm! I get it. It’s like how the dukes badmouth each other behind their backs! But if it’s just a personal issue between them, why’s it a diplomatic problem?”

“First, because both have significant influence in their respective countries. Second, because the professor set fire to the Demons’ land.”

“He burned down nearly all the forest they hold sacred.”

“What?”

Ede’s head tilted at the sudden mention of arson.

I felt the same way when I first heard about it.

“He said he made a groundbreaking invention but had no place to test it, so he used a forest the ‘furry beasts’ weren’t even using… or so he explained.”

“If it was just an explanation, that’d be one thing, but except for the first paragraph, it was all flowery insults about the Nol and werewolves.”

The letter was clearly meant to demean Avantnik, a werewolf, as well as the Nol and werewolves who make up most of Charnirasho’s Demons.

“Did that Avantnik guy send a letter too?”

“He did.”

Til snorted.

Unlike the professor’s ink-stained letter, Avantnik’s was the complete opposite.

[I’m gonna rip that bastard’s scalp off, so don’t try to stop me, Count.]

With a lengthy explanation of why invading Vestol now would be a bad idea and my promise to mediate, I barely prevented a war between the two.

“Sounds complicated…”

“Get used to it, Ede. Half the stuff that happens here is like this.”

Til hummed as if it were someone else’s problem.

I gave a wry smile, remembering when I told her to take things seriously.

“That’s the Acting Commander’s job, right? I’ll just follow orders.”

Having boasted about being a proper second-in-command, I couldn’t argue.

Grumbling wouldn’t change anything.

I stretched and forced a smile.

“Til, take this check and go to Avantnik. Buy him lots of shiny things; it’ll calm him down. Ede, follow me to meet Professor Zain.”

“Yes, yes. Good luck, Ede.”

Til tucked the check between her fingers and leaped out the window.

“I told her to use the door since there are eyes at the villa…”

“Miss Til used to vanish like that all the time at Chartra. Still, it’s nice to see you two get along!”

“Get along?”

“Yup!”

Her enthusiastic reply left me speechless.

Fine, think what you want.

That trivial matter was quickly overshadowed by the painful reality of having to meet Professor Zain.

‘What nonsense is he going to spew now…?’

* * *

Occupying a special room at the embassy, Professor Zain was endlessly scribbling in a notebook.

At a glance, it looked like the meaningless scrawl of a madman, but there was a consistent pattern.

Only one person in the world could understand what that pattern meant.

Knock knock—

The professor’s busy hand stopped.

Maybe if he waited, they’d go away.

With that thought, he stared at the door.

Knock knock knock—

Another knock, and the professor reluctantly got up.

‘Here to lecture me again, I bet. Don’t they ever get tired?’

Why everyone was making a fuss over one comment at the meeting was beyond him.

He was the one who wanted to snap at them for wasting his precious time on this political nonsense.

“I’ve said all I have to say. Go aw—”

“Long time no see, Professor.”

An irritating, beaming face greeted him warmly.

He considered slamming the door but remembered last month’s headquarters funding request and reluctantly opened it.

“What brings the esteemed Count Valheit here?”

“May I come in?”

“Of course…”

Only then did he notice the woman blinking behind Valheit.

“A bodyguard? Is someone in Eslick after the Count’s neck or something?”

“I’ve been busy with Eight Council work lately, and I’m short on hands. Especially with people who cause trouble instead of helping.”

Thinking it might be some new trick, he studied Valheit’s face, but all he saw was an inscrutable smile.

“What business does the noble Count have with this old man?”

“You’re asking because you don’t know? I’m here to clean up the mess you made.”

“You too, with that pointless talk?”

He’d explained it to the ambassador, the foreign minister, even at the Assembly—countless times.

Since not everyone was a genius like him, he’d kindly broken it down for them.

Yet all they asked was why he did it.

These idiots couldn’t understand even when he explained it clearly, wasting his precious time.

“If you’re going to make me repeat myself, go ask the ambassador. I explained it in detail.”

“The fire you set in Charnirasho? That’s a mess, sure, but it’s something to resolve at the meeting, not by visiting you personally.”

So there’s another mess.

But he hadn’t done anything that would pique the Count’s interest.

“You look like you have no idea.”

“Because I don’t.”

“Didn’t you give a grinder to a rural village in the Empire?”

The professor flipped through his notebook and nodded.

“A few years ago, I helped out a struggling farm. They needed a cash crop because of the war, so I recommended Opio. Nothing beats it for profitability.”

“Are you aware of what you’re saying?”

“Going to pick a fight over territory? What’s wrong with providing technology to those who need it most?”

“Professor, the world has rules and agreements. The Eight Council agreed to provide you with funds and resources. In return, you’re supposed to care about political conflicts and territorial disputes. Understand?”

Tch.

Threatening me with money, how low.

His reputation as Vestol’s greatest technician and inventor owed much to the Eight Council’s funding and resources.

Even if Vestol was progressive about technology, it was still a resource-scarce country.

He still had a long way to go to develop technology to save the world.

“Fine. I apologize for encroaching on your territory. And for providing the grinder to process Opio.”

“I respect you, and you respect me. How simple is that?”

The interest sparked by Valheit’s visit quickly faded.

The urge to scribble designs in his notebook crept up again.

“I know your time is precious. Just one more promise, and this tedious meeting is over.”

“Charnirasho, I presume. I’ve heard every lecture there is. If you’re going to repeat them, don’t waste your energy.”

Valheit nodded with his usual expression.

A mask that revealed neither thoughts nor emotions.

“The forest you burned in Charnirasho is used for ships—specifically, ships for oceanic voyages.”

It was a lecture he hadn’t heard before.

The professor’s hand, fidgeting irritably with a pencil, stopped.

“Not just because they’re sturdy. They’re trees planted by werewolves and nurtured with Nol magic. Without them, you’d need astronomical sums for waterproofing and desalination.”

He wanted to snap about what that had to do with him, but a scholar’s curiosity overpowered his petty sarcasm.

“You were incredibly lucky. You could’ve gotten those trees through the Eight Council, something outsiders don’t usually get.”

“……”

“Demon magic is said to be instinctual and intuitive. Who knows what other fascinating things lie deeper in Charnirasho? Neither you nor I do.”

Ideas of what to build and research with those trees raced through his mind.

But his hand stayed still.

“You kicked away that opportunity. For someone who wants to save the world with technology, that’s pretty barbaric, isn’t it?”

“It wasn’t just idle land for the Nol to play with. I understand.”

“But you’re a very lucky man, Professor. I’m giving you another chance.”

Valheit stood, speaking in a whisper.

The professor clicked his tongue with a phlegmy grunt.

He hated to admit it, but he had to.

The Charnirasho incident was his mistake.

“We’re different in experience, personality, and methods, but we’re united for one purpose,

aren’t we? Let’s use each other to the bone.”

“I’ll do that, Count.”

“Then keep making your brilliant, insane inventions. This uninvited guest will leave.”

Valheit gave an exaggerated bow and grabbed the doorknob.

“Wait a moment, Count.”

There was still one unresolved curiosity.

After this talk, he felt he wouldn’t sleep until it was answered.

“Why did you suddenly start moving?”

“…My back hurts from sitting too long.”

Leaving a cryptic metaphor, Valheit vanished with his bodyguard.

The professor mulled over his words for a moment, then opened his notebook and resumed writing in his madman’s script.