The Discarded Son's Skill Market
Chapter 22: Dangerous

Chapter 22: Dangerous

Zachary Mansion.

In his office, Roger Zachary was looking over some documents and browsing the internet. Between work and laziness, he tended to spend 20 minutes on one and 30 minutes on the other, respectively.

Knock! Knock!

The loud creak of the wooden door interrupted his free time, which made him feel somewhat uncomfortable.

"Come in," he said.

A burly man dressed as a butler opened the door and stepped inside.

"Sir, I’ve come to report something to you."

"Is it important?"

"I think it is."

Roger sighed. He set his cell phone aside and looked at the man. "I’m all ears."

"That kid Zaid is back in town. He’s alive."

Roger’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. "That kid’s got guts, I’ll give him that. Where is he? Just send someone to kill him."

"That’s the problem, sir." The man sighed. "He enrolled in the academy as soon as he got back."

"Not only does he have guts, but the bastard’s also cunning." Roger pursed his lips in slight annoyance. "Tell me everything."

"Yes, sir." He proceeded to tell him everything he knew.

"So not only did he survive the poison, he also had the guts to return to the city and enroll in the academy, but with his strength..." Roger shook his head. "He’ll just be a cargo man."

"Indeed, sir. He really is a cargo man."

Roger let out a derisive laugh.

"But he’s also shrewd. Traveling to other cities isn’t that easy. With a 40% mortality rate on intercity trips and him being so weak, he naturally won’t do it. Instead, he’ll seek protection within his own city," Roger said, fiddling with a pen.

The man who was briefing him nodded. "And there’s no better place to seek protection than the academy. Even there, our hands are tied."

"Heheh. How many of my guys know about this?"

"So far, I don’t think there are any. He’s in Class F, and that class doesn’t usually do anything noteworthy enough to make a splash. And since he’s just an ordinary student, it’s hard for him to stand out among so many others. However, I think there’s a Shawn close to him. Sooner or later, the Young Masters will find out."

Roger nodded. "If they find out, tell them they don’t need to kill him. They’d be better off playing with him and letting him watch his beloved wife marry Zayn."

The man nodded thoughtfully. "Being so close to so many fully-fledged Awakened, don’t you think it might trigger his talent in some way? I’ve heard that’s happened several times in distant countries."

Roger smiled sinisterly. "I didn’t actually make that poison to kill him," Roger said.

"Huh?"

"It’s a poison that only attacks his Dark Red Blood. Don’t you remember? No matter what happens... he’ll never be able to awaken. Because he’s already lost all his Dark Red Blood."

The true core of the Awakened One—the Dark Red Blood!

Suddenly, the informant shuddered and remembered what had happened in that room. Right after the betrayal, Zaid spat out a large amount of that blood, which he personally had to clean up.

That boy was as good as doomed. Without the core, his talent—which was already useless—became even more so.

"So go back. Don’t pay any attention to that kid. I’ll find a way to get rid of him in due time."

"Y-yes, sir." The man swallowed hard and quickly took his leave.

Roger was left playing with his pen, lost in thought.

After a while, the door opened without anyone knocking.

There was only one person who could walk into his room like that.

His wife.

"I brought you some coffee," she whispered tenderly.

Roger took the coffee and stared at it for a moment.

"Do you think it’s poisoned? Don’t worry, I’m not like that."

Roger looked up at his beloved wife and laughed. "You were like that with your son—who am I, then?"

"But he didn’t die—can’t you see?" She smiled tenderly. "I’m not that bad."

Roger stared at her for more than thirty seconds. "So you already knew he was going to survive, huh."

She walked across the room and sat down very gracefully on the sofa in the middle.

"You can never be completely sure of something until it happens. If he survived, it means it’s his good... or bad luck."

Roger sighed.

"You’re good, woman."

’Especially that tender, smiling voice that seems to come from the most frivolous and amusing things, while...’ Even Roger couldn’t help but shudder.

"I’m no good." She shook her head and innocently continued, "I’m just a Sanguis."

’Sanguis...’

Roger stared intently at the coffee. It was black coffee. It contained nothing but coffee and water. For his own safety, he preferred his coffee without any additives, since sugar made it easier for poisons to dissolve. So there was nothing wrong with this one.

’They’re so dangerous.’

Roger took a sip of his coffee and savored the unique, additive-free flavor as it slid down his throat. It was a strong flavor—like an elixir of shadows. It lodged in his throat like thorns, but caused him no pain or harm.

This was life.

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