I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 349: Section Six. Paragraph Thirty-Four. Line Eight.

Lady Starfell remained frozen on the couch, her amber eyes locked on the broken, sobbing man at her feet. Her mind clearly struggled to process how quickly the game had turned from her hunting Jack to Jack devouring her alive.

Jack straightened from his crouch, his red eyes never leaving her face. He reached into the air with his right hand, fingers passing through reality itself as if grasping something invisible.

Red lightning crackled around his wrist, and suddenly a rolled parchment materialized in his grip. Pulled directly from his system storage. He made the impossible look mundane to everyone else.

He unrolled the document slowly, letting the thick paper unfurl until it hung between them like a death sentence.

”Do you recognize this?” Jack asked sarcastically, holding the parchment where she could see the elaborate seals and signatures at the bottom. ”You should. Your house signed it along with twenty-four others when you swore fealty to House Kaiser at our last soiree.”

Starfell’s gaze tracked from the broken emissary to the document, confusion warring with growing dread. ”I... yes, but....”

”Section Six,” Jack interrupted, his finger tracing down the dense text. ”Paragraph Thirty-Four. Line Eight. Read it.”

His tone carried no room for negotiation. This wasn’t a request, it was a command.

Starfell’s hands trembled as she leaned forward, her eyes struggling to focus on the small print through tears that were beginning to form. Her lips moved silently as she read, and Jack watched the exact moment comprehension crashed over her like a tidal wave.

Her face went from pale to ashen. The color drained so completely that she looked corpse-like in the firelight.

”’If any party should fail in their duty to answer or abandon my call,’” Jack recited from memory, his voice carrying the flat precision of someone who’d memorized every clause, ”’they will be required to pay five hundred percent compensation for all buildings, infrastructure, materials, and designs rendered through Lord Jack Kaiser’s contractors. At which time, a monthly taxation percentage of any amount will be set at Lord Kaiser’s sole discretion for continued use of said designs.’”

He lowered the document, letting it roll closed with a soft rustle that sounded loud in the study’s oppressive silence.

”Five hundred percent,” Jack repeated, letting the words hang between them like nooses. ”Your men didn’t just fail to answer my call, Lady Starfell. They actively abandoned their posts. Left my sisters in their time of need. Desertion during wartime.”

”No,” Starfell whispered, her voice cracking. ”No, you don’t understand. They were scared, they weren’t trained for...”

”I don’t care what they were,” Jack’s voice cut through her protests like a hot knife through butter. ”I care what they did. Which was that they abandoned Sorne when I needed them most. Which means you owe me compensation.”

He began pacing slowly, circling her like a predator savoring the moment before the kill. The demon essence in his blood sang with dark pleasure, feeding off her mounting terror with hungry satisfaction.

”Let’s calculate, shall we?” Jack’s tone carried false pleasantness that made it worse than outright anger. ”The grain silos my contractors built for your soldiers? Fifteen thousand gold in materials and labor. The roads connecting your territory to Sorne? Twenty-two thousand gold. The bathhouse your troops were permitted to use? Thirty thousand gold. The water filtration system that kept your men from dying of dysentery? Twelve thousand gold.”

With each number, Starfell’s breathing became more ragged. Her mathematical mind was clearly running the calculations, multiplying by five hundred percent, and arriving at figures that represented financial apocalypse.

”That’s seventy-nine thousand gold in base costs,” Jack continued, stopping directly in front of her. ”Multiply by five hundred percent. That’s...” He paused, letting her do the math herself.

”Three hundred ninety-five thousand gold,” Starfell whispered, her voice barely audible. ”I... we don’t have that kind of money. No single house has that liquid capital. It would take years to...”

”Oh, but that’s just the initial compensation,” Jack interrupted cheerfully. ”Then there’s the monthly taxation for continued use of my designs. The roads still connect to your territory. The filtration systems I helped install are still operating in your cities. You’re still benefiting from my innovations.”

He crouched down again, bringing himself eye-level with her devastation. His red eyes gleamed with something that wasn’t quite human anymore. Something inside of him enjoyed watching her world crumble.

”I could set that monthly tax at... let’s say, five percent of your house’s gross income? Ten percent? Fifteen? The contract gives me sole discretion.” His grin widened. ”I’m thinking twenty percent sounds fair. After all, you did try to seduce me while your men were rotting in my dungeons. That shows remarkably poor judgment.”

Starfell’s composure was finally shattered completely. She slid from the couch onto her knees, her pale blue dress pooling around her like spilled water. Her hands reached for Jack with desperate urgency, fingers grasping at his coat.

”Please,” the word came out broken, desperate. ”Please, Lord Kaiser, I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know they’d abandoned their posts. I thought they died...”

”Your emissary,” Jack gestured casually toward the broken man still sobbing at their feet, ”he laid his hands on Seraphina. He tried to abandon my city, left my sisters and the other noble houses for dead. What he is going through is a courtesy!”

Starfell’s gaze tracked to the maimed emissary with fresh horror, understanding flooding through her. This wasn’t just about money. This was about power and absolute dominance.

”Please,” she repeated, her voice cracking with desperation. ”I’ll do anything. Anything you want. My body...” her hands moved to the neckline of her dress, trembling fingers starting to pull the fabric lower. ”I’ll be yours. Whenever you want, however you want. No... just... please don’t destroy my family.”

Jack watched her debase herself as he grinned. The demon essence feeding off her humiliation with dark satisfaction. But his expression remained cold, unmoved by the flesh she was offering.

”I’m not interested in your body as payment,” he said flatly. ”Though I appreciate the offer. Very... accommodating of you.”

”Then him!” Starfell grabbed the broken emissary by his ragged clothing, dragging him closer despite his whimpers of pain. ”Take him! Kill him! Torture him more if you want! He’s the one who lied, who failed, who...”

”I already have him,” Jack interrupted, his voice carrying bored patience. ”He and all your other men are currently enjoying my hospitality. Do you know what nearly two years in a time-dilated hell dimension does to people, Lady Starfell? It breaks them in ways that make death look merciful.”

He stood, brushing imaginary dust from his coat with a casual dismissal of her continued pleading.

”But let’s talk about your real problem,” Jack continued, his tone shifting to something more businesslike. ”Your family’s wealth doesn’t come from land or trade. It comes from your potion-making enterprise. Specifically, your monopoly on high-grade mana potions in this region.”

Starfell’s eyes widened fractionally. How did he know the specifics of her family’s business? That information wasn’t public knowledge.

”Your family charges ten gold coins per high-grade mana potion,” Jack continued, pulling the information from memory with perfect accuracy. ”It’s quite profitable. You produce perhaps... what, ten thousand potions annually? That’s one hundred thousand gold in revenue just from your premium product line, not counting mid and low-grade variants.”

”How do you...” Starfell’s voice was barely a whisper.