Count Charon wants to see me?
The news genuinely caught Darrick off guard. How could he possibly have anything to do with Count Charon? The only time he had ever interacted with the man was during the discussion over rewards after the Val City incident.
Darrick didn't have a particularly deep impression of Charon. Most of what he knew came from hearsay among fellow adventurers.
It was said that Charon had once spent time in a Gold-ranked adventuring party. Unfortunately, his strength couldn't keep up, and he was eventually kicked out. With that, his dreams of poetry and distant horizons were shattered, leaving him no choice but to return home and inherit the family estate.
But inheriting the family fortune was anything but easy.
Although the second young master, Vilde, was close to him and posed no real threat, the third young master, Sali, competed with him fiercely. Worse still, their father, Philip, seemed to favor Sali.
Just as Charon was desperately searching for a way to break the deadlock—
As if blessed by the heavens themselves, the Dungeon went berserk, killing Count Philip. Sali, believing that his failure to dissuade his father from enforcing unreasonable policies had disqualified him from inheriting the family, left home shortly afterward and vanished without a trace.
In an incredibly short span of time, Charon's situation underwent a shocking reversal—so sudden that he remained dazed for several days.
It wasn't until other family members draped him in the luxurious coat his father used to wear for appearances, and word arrived from the king officially recognizing his title, that Charon finally snapped back to reality.
I'm the boss now!
Having successfully upgraded from being called "Young Master" to "My Lord," Charon was overjoyed—and even hopped around on Philip's grave for good measure.
If that were all, people would have simply labeled him "a noble blessed with good luck." But the series of actions he took after inheriting the family business earned him genuine goodwill among adventurers.
Most praiseworthy was his decision to subsidize the purchase of teleportation crystals.
The higher an adventurer's rank, the larger the subsidy!
This tangible benefit quickly won over a massive number of adventurers, and praise for him spread rapidly through taverns and streets alike.
After that, Charon proposed that all of City's development should revolve around the Sein Dungeon, completely binding the family's interests to it.
The results proved him right. Dungeon-related industries quickly filled the family's financial gaps. Given enough time, the Bedford family might not only recover to its former scale—but even surpass it.
As for the Blood Essence and Blood Therapy potion industries, Charon left them largely unchanged, investing little effort. This was mainly to appease the king.
Adventurers lived by the dungeon—and Charon lived by the dungeon as well. In that sense, the two sides stood firmly on the same front.
Because of this, adventurers generally held Charon in far higher regard than they ever had Philip. And although Charon hadn't played a decisive role in the Battle of Val City, his act of charging at the front lines still earned him a boost in reputation.
Darrick's evaluation of him was simple:
A lord who knows his limits—and has real ability.
As long as Charon didn't suddenly lose his mind, the Bedford family was bound to prosper.
After thinking it over, Darrick concluded that the only thing that might have recently caught Charon's attention was the establishment of the Farron Guard.
Maybe… he wants to sponsor them?
With that thought in mind, Darrick tidied himself up. With help from his Farron Guard companions, he fixed his hair and clothing, then headed to the lord's estate in formal attire he wasn't accustomed to wearing.
At the entrance, he encountered someone unexpected.
"—You?" Darrick stared at Luluwo in surprise. "You were summoned too?"
"Yo. Good day." Luluwo raised a hand in greeting, smiling calmly and elegantly. When she wasn't acting strange, she perfectly fit the image of a powerful, graceful beauty.
Darrick decided not to comment on how she managed to combine a street-style "yo" with an aristocratic "good day."
After confirming they had both been invited, the two entered the estate together.
"His Lordship is waiting in the workshop. This way, please."
As they followed the guard, confusion welled up in Darrick's mind.
A workshop? Why meet there? Don't nobles usually receive guests in their studies?
More importantly—
Why is there even a workshop inside a lord's estate?
When they arrived, Darrick felt that calling it a "workshop" was being generous. Exhibition hall would have been more accurate.
No—wait.
What noble's collection room would contain these things?
The room was packed with items Darrick found all too familiar.
In one corner sat a massive jar identical to a Warrior Jar, along with several smaller ones, each decorated with colorful flower garlands.
Mounted on the walls were trophy heads of classic Sein Dungeon monsters, along with other distinctive monster parts.
Below them lay various weapons. A single glance was enough for Darrick to recognize them as combat-skill weapons.
That alone was strange—but what followed made his expression grow increasingly odd.
Over there—two full sets of Farron Legion armor replicas? The craftsmanship was so refined they could pass for the real thing. Beside them was an entire lineup of Farron Legion merchandise: figurines of various scales, replica weapons, framed portraits, badges…
And even themed underwear?
And it didn't stop there. He spotted merchandise themed after Crucible Knights, Darkwraiths, Basilisks—even Dragonslayer armor.
Wait—
Is that a sketch of Artorius?
Darrick clearly remembered describing Artorius to the guild after leaving the Painted World. Many details had been missing—but the sketch here matched his account perfectly.
Charon even bought this?
His intelligence network is terrifying…
It seemed that every high-popularity monster from the Sein Dungeon was represented here.
The sheer variety was dazzling. Darrick didn't even know where to look anymore.
What exactly is he planning to do with all of this?
"Sorry to keep you waiting. Welcome."
Charon's voice rang out—but neither of them saw him.
Suddenly, the lid of the large jar popped open, and something crawled out—
…A Darkwraith?
"Did I scare you?" Charon removed the replica Darkwraith helmet, revealing sharp, handsome features. He smiled at their stunned expressions. "I was testing the comfort of the Warrior Jar tent. Still needs improvement."
"…What?" Darrick hadn't processed it yet—but Luluwo's eyes lit up as she rushed over.
"What is this for?" she asked eagerly.
"My craftsmen replicated the Warrior Jar's exterior to create a portable tent," Charon explained proudly. "It may look rigid, but once infused with mana, it softens into fabric-like material. When folded, it's even smaller than a standard tent."
"This is part of a new Warrior Jar product line the family will soon release. I'm confident it'll sell extremely well."
"Wow!" Luluwo exclaimed on cue, delivering full emotional value.
Darrick's face twitched. If he remembered correctly, Warrior Jars were meant to hold corpses—heroic corpses, sure, but still…
At least this version wasn't too ominous.
"These monster-themed badges have been selling exceptionally well," Charon continued. "I plan to expand the line. Though honestly, I don't understand why people are willing to pay so much for metal plates."
"Amazing!"
"These are replica monster weapons. They have no combat function, but high collectible value. Currently available are Farron Undead Legion, Darkwraith, and Crucible Knight models. We even considered children—besides iron versions, we introduced wooden ones. Much cheaper. Even farmers' kids can afford them."
"That's incredible!"
"And these garlands—made by the small jars themselves. We hire adventurers to bring materials into the dungeon to locate them. Naturally, that makes them expensive, so we also sell artificial replicas. Rest assured, our workers weave them while wearing Warrior Jar-themed coats. Authenticity matters."
"Whoa!"
Immersed in Luluwo's nonstop admiration, Charon gradually lost himself, enthusiastically introducing product after product.
Yes—products.
Every single item here was intended for mass production and sale.
Darrick knew the Bedford family was focusing on dungeon-related industries—but he never imagined it would go this far.
After wracking his brain, the only phrase he could think of was:
Mind-blowing.
Whoever came up with these ideas was a genuine genius.
"My Lord," Luluwo asked sweetly in an exaggeratedly cute voice, "did you come up with all of this yourself?"
"Not entirely," Charon shook his head. "Many ideas came from conversations with a young man."
"A young man?"
"I don't remember his face—only that he had black hair. I encountered him during a rare solo walk. He shared these wildly imaginative ideas."
Charon sighed. "Unfortunately, I haven't been able to find him since. I would love to hire him."
"Cough." Darrick deliberately cleared his throat. "My Lord… why did you summon us today?"
He had to interrupt—or Charon might continue pitching products indefinitely.
"Oh—right. Nearly forgot the important part. Please, have a seat."
They sat on sofas around a tea table. Charon summoned a maid to serve hot tea and fruit snacks.
"Actually, I invited you both because I have a favor to ask—"
His words abruptly cut off as red juice splashed across his face—sweet and sour.
Across from him, Luluwo hurriedly swallowed the cherry tomato she had accidentally burst, whistling innocently while refusing to make eye contact.
"I have a favor to ask," Charon repeated, casually wiping his face with his sleeve—a habit leftover from his adventurer days.
"Please, go on," Darrick said, his expression utterly numb beside Luluwo.
"I heard you took in Val City survivors, trained them, and formed the Farron Guard. Is that correct?" Charon studied Darrick—the famed demon-slayer—carefully.
"Yes," Darrick nodded.
"How is the training progressing? Any difficulties? I hear the guild has provided assistance, but as their leader, you must be carrying the heaviest burden."
His concern sounded genuine.
Darrick considered his response. This truly felt like the prelude to financial support.
"There are many difficulties," he said honestly. "But everyone carries fire in their hearts. Until the demon race is eradicated, no one will give up."
"Excellent! That's exactly the spirit I want!"
Charon praised him without restraint, then declared:
"The Bedford family has decided to support the Farron Guard. Whatever the guild provides—we will provide double."
Just as Darrick expected.
But he didn't let generosity cloud his judgment. There was no such thing as a free lunch.
Sure enough, Charon paused, then smiled.
"But I have one condition."
Darrick's expression turned solemn. Nobles were infamous for deals that swallowed people whole.
Charon spoke slowly.
"I want the Farron Guard to become City's superstars."
"…I'm sorry—could you repeat that?" Darrick snapped his head up, convinced he had misheard.
"That's right—superstars." Charon stood, clenched his fist, and declared passionately, "The family will give you the greatest support possible. You will be adored by the masses. Seen as guardian deities—the spiritual successors of the Farron Undead Legion—with unprecedented fame!"
Darrick's mouth fell open.
"…Why would you do this?" he finally asked.
"To sell merchandise," Charon replied matter-of-factly.
"The more famous you are, the more beloved you become—and the more our products sell. A perfect win-win."
"Well? All benefits, no drawbacks. Shall we work together?"
He extended his hand, expression sincere.
Darrick never imagined this outcome. After a moment's consideration, he realized—
There was actually nothing wrong with it.
The Farron Guard would gain supplies and prestige. The Bedford family would profit from merchandise.
No moral compromise. No loss of dignity.
It was almost too ideal.
Still cautious, Darrick asked:
"My Lord, if the Farron Guard agrees… how exactly do you plan to make us famous?"
Charon smiled confidently, unfurled a map, and pointed to the plains near the ruins of Val City.
"According to my intelligence, remnants of the demon race are roaming this area."
"I will build you a stage the world cannot ignore."
"All you need to do—"
He tapped the map.
"—is slaughter the demon race beautifully and spectacularly."