The fury in her voice could not be hidden. It clung to every word like frost to bare steel.

An hour passed, then another.Time dragged on, and still no arrival.

“Go. Bring the prince immediately! What are you all doing?! Use the knights if you must, drag him back!”

Cracks had begun to form in the iron dignity of the Empress. Her face was flushed crimson, her breath sharp and ragged. The command was thunderous, a storm from her throne. Then,

“Your Majesty! Your Majestyyy!”

A group of eunuchs rushed in, their heads bowed so low their foreheads nearly scraped the floor,so that arrogant brat had finally shown up.

The Empress composed her features, smoothing away the fury. She began to entertain strategies, how best to trample down the insolence from that boy. Her thoughts swirled with quiet satisfaction,then the report came.

A eunuch, his bruises caked over with pale face powder, delivered the words,

“His Highness the Eleventh Prince is not within the palace!”

“What…?”

Her response came not as fury, but as stunned disbelief. An expression so shocked, her usual imperial restraint faltered. The eunuchs began to weep openly now, voices breaking with fear and shame.

“Not only did he ignore Your Majesty’s summons… but now, after the full week has passed, he left the palace claiming he needed fresh air!”

“What…?!”  

“He departed Steel Fortress this morning!”

“He left? ‘Now’? Ignoring ‘my’ summons? And he left the palace? Wasn’t that forbidden by the Emperor himself?!”

“He used the access permit earned from passing Your Majesty’s previous test. It’s said… he didn’t specify a return date.”

He used the reward she herself had granted, to humiliate her. The Empress closed her eyes tightly.

“Your Majesty, please have mercy!!”

Their pleading voices rang through the Empress’s Hall.

“CLANG!”

A loud, metallic crash echoed through the palace, followed by guttural swearing. Something had shattered. For quite some time, the noise continued. Rumors spread fast. Across the Imperial Palace and all the way to Steel Fortress, the tale unfurled. 

The Eleventh Prince’s madness had triumphed over the Empress’s will.

“Capital of Ironia ,Fermar”

The Tempher River cut straight through the city’s heart, dividing the capital cleanly into north and south. At its center, Steel Fortress stood like the pivot of an empire. From that hub, four great boulevards stretched out, east, west, north, and south,each feeding into narrower side roads that further divided the city into distinct districts.

In the flow of carts and carriages rolling down those wide avenues, one vehicle caught every eye. 

A carriage? No. A car. One with elegant curves and gleaming paint. Nobles craned their necks to get a better look. Even those inside other carriages leaned out, expressions marked by thinly veiled envy.

The age of the automobile had begun its slow creep. Soon, it would seize the capital. For their vanity, for the feeling of being special, these nobles would burn fortunes, uncaring who starved in the process.

Inside that striking car,

“Alfred.”  

“Yes, Your Highness?”  

“Does our palace still have money? Something like personal funds? A private reserve?”  

“…May I ask why?”  

“Don’t look nervous. Just answer. Yes or no.”  

“There are some. Mostly set aside for upkeep of royal dignity and food expenses. If Your Highness intends to use it for… other purposes, I cannot recommend it.”  

“Invest it.”  

“…Pardon?”  

“Put it in stocks. That car company,made by Baron Fordran.”  

“Baron Fordran? But the noble house supplying vehicles to the palace is the Rois Viscounty.”  

“I know. Invest in both. Fordran and Rois. I’ll give you a list of others soon, be ready.”  

“We do not have ‘that’ much liquidity.”  

The car’s interior was polished, luxurious. In one hand, the prince swirled a glass of wine, enjoying the attention their vehicle attracted as it glided through the city.

A crooked smile curled across his face as Alfred’s tone turned cautionary.

“That’s why we’re going to get more funds right now.”  

“Understood.”  

“And Alfred.”  

“Yes, Your Highness?”  

“You’ve been talking back a lot lately. That’s another life debt you owe me.”  

“My apologies.”  

Alfred lowered his head, but a smile crept across his face. That smile again. Greasy, amused. He has been doing it more often lately. The prince looked away, eyes drifting to the window.  

As they headed north, the estates became increasingly extravagant.  

Smaller than Steel Fortress, perhaps, but no less opulent.

Cars appeared more frequently on the roads.

The further they drove, the higher the class. This was the capital’s northern quarter, home to the old aristocracy and rising financial powers, and now they had entered ‘Baker Street’, the inner sanctum, the highest-tier nobles and nouveau riche tycoons lived here. There was one reason to visit this place.

“He should be appearing soon.”

There was a debt to be forged. A bond to be shackled in gold.

“Circle the area. Keep going.”  

He had bolted from Steel Fortress the moment he could walk.There was someone he needed to see.

Round after round they circled the neighborhood, until;  there… The target.

His prey. his piggy bank, his scapegoat, his offering. The divine spirit of wealth that moved the economic veins of the empire, and now, 

“Crash into them.”  

“Wh-what? Your Highness?”  

“I said ‘crash into them’.”  

It was time to initiate contact. Yes, there was a plan. Don’t look at him like that, Alfred.  

There really “was” a plan. The driver hesitated, sweating and annoyed, the prince leaned forward, grabbed the steering wheel himself, and turned it sharply.

“SCREEEEECH! CRASH!”

Two high-end cars slammed into each other in the middle of the avenue, the kind of crash that made nearby carriages stop and watch.

Moments later…

“What the hell?! Are you insane?! What kind of driving is that?!”

From the other car, a thick-necked man stormed out, finger jabbing furiously.

His fury faltered as his eyes landed on the license plate. His face shifted from rage to panic.

“Huh? Wha—what’s this car doing here? Wha—?!”

He recognized it. The license plate marked it as a royal decoy car, and his house supplied them. While the man stood trembling, still processing, the prince calmly lifted a hand.

“Smack.” He slammed his own forehead into the dashboard. Blood bloomed instantly.

He could have faked it, but that wouldn’t feel real enough. Red ran down the sharp bridge of his nose.

“Click.” He opened the door and stepped out. His grin gleamed, wild, predatory.

The moment the other driver saw his face, color drained out of him, then returned as a sickly, panicked grey.

“Y-Your Highness—”  

“Shut your mouth if you want to live.”  

“Hhk!”

Sunlight caught his platinum hair like a blade. His red eyes shimmered with volatile madness. People sensed something was wrong and quickly vacated the scene. Only one car remained, trembling like its driver. Blood dripped from the prince’s chin to the pavement.  

Each drop seemed to tug at the driver’s life expectancy.

The large man looked smaller now, crumpling in on himself.

The prince ignored him.

“THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.” He banged on the window of the car behind.

“Whiiiir.” The tinted window lowered slowly.

“Y-Your Highness? Wh-why are you…?”  

Inside, a young woman sat, teary-eyed. Hair like pale lemon. Eyes the same shade. A soft, delicate hue, like a canary. She sat there trembling, drenched like a bird caught in sudden rain. Pitiful in her stillness.

[Minor fortune surges violently! A new destiny begins!]  

[You have encountered the one who shall deliver golden fortune!]  

If that bird were a golden one?