When I Cleared the Death Game World, I Reincarnated as a Villainous Noble Even if They Talk About Doom Flags, I'm Actually Immortal. - Chapter 14

Mason sat in his office, gripping his head in frustration.

Lately, anxiety had robbed him of his appetite, leaving him noticeably gaunt.

Even now, just thinking about Lior made him tremble uncontrollably.

(Damn it!! Does that brat know I sent an assassin after him!? Why hasn’t he done anything about it!?)

Some time ago, Mason had orchestrated a plan to have Lior assassinated.

Technically, he hadn’t carried it out himself, but that was beside the point.

The real issue was that the attempt had failed, and now it seemed like Lior had figured out Mason was behind it.

Logically, if someone discovered who tried to kill them, they would seek revenge.

As the son of a marquis, Lior could easily have Mason executed with a single word to his father.

(And yet, instead of taking action, he’s suddenly acting like a model noble, training diligently in swordsmanship with that female knight… Why? Why hasn’t he reported me to the marquis? What is he planning…?)

Lior’s behavior was deeply unsettling.

It was as if he had become an entirely different person, putting on the facade of a diligent young noble while immersing himself in rigorous training.

Mason had no idea what his goal was.

And the unknown was terrifying.

Every action Lior took seemed like part of a carefully crafted scheme leading to Mason’s downfall.

Yet, no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t determine how Lior’s actions connected to him.

The more he obsessed over it, the deeper he sank into paranoia.

The truth, however, was simple—Lior wasn’t even thinking about him.

Mason was overanalyzing something that didn’t exist, desperately trying to solve an equation with no answer.

Like a frightened monkey cowering before a painting of a lion, his fear was utterly baseless, yet, to him, it was all too real.

And when terror grips a person, it blinds them.

(For now, I should stay quiet. If I make a wrong move, I’ll be setting myself up for failure… I need to minimize my contact with Lior and—)

Just as Mason resolved to lay low, a knock came at his door.

Straightening up, he cleared his throat before answering.

The door opened.

“Good afternoon. Sorry to bother you while you’re working.”

“L-Lord Lior… To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Lior stepped into the room.

Mason nearly jumped out of his chair.

A shudder ran through his body, but he forced himself to remain seated, gripping the arms of his chair to keep himself from bolting.

(Why is he here? Is this it? Has he finally come to end me!?)

Lior casually walked across the carpeted floor, approaching Mason’s desk.

To Mason, the soft sound of his steps was like the footsteps of a grim reaper drawing near.

A sharp pain twisted in his stomach.

He would definitely need some medicine later.

“Actually, I have a favor to ask, Mason.”

“A… favor?”

“First, take a look at these documents.”

Lior placed a stack of papers in front of Mason.

They appeared to be tax records from the estate, along with additional materials Lior had compiled.

One of the pages contained an unfamiliar diagram.

“This is a graph,” Lior explained. “It visually represents the tax revenue trends in Orion territory. If you take a look, you’ll notice something interesting—”

Lior continued his explanation.

To summarize:

• • The heavy taxation was strangling the people.

• • In rural areas, many farmers had lost their agricultural cattle during the famine five years ago.

• • With no financial stability, they couldn’t afford to replace them.

• • This had severely impacted farming productivity, leading to a continuous decline in tax revenue.

“That’s why I want you to lower the tax rate,” Lior stated. “If people have more breathing room, they’ll be able to buy new cattle. That, in turn, will improve agricultural output, which should ultimately increase tax revenue in the long run.”

Mason remained silent, skimming through the documents.

The materials were meticulously prepared.

One section even included testimonies from farmers collected over the past few days.

“So that’s why you left the estate recently?”

“That’s right.”

A few days ago, Lior had left in a carriage.

Mason hadn’t known where he had gone, but apparently, he had been visiting rural villages to gather information firsthand.

His level of preparation was almost unsettling.

And then there was the graph.

It was a groundbreaking concept.

The tax trends were immediately clear at a glance.

It was far too sophisticated to be something a child had created alone.

(…Who’s behind this?)

There was no way Lior had made such flawless documents on his own.

And more than that—why was he bringing this tax reduction proposal to me of all people?

(I hold my position because, twenty years ago, I implemented the tax hikes that boosted this territory’s revenue… But if we reduce taxes now, it’ll be like publicly admitting that my policies were a failure.)

(This is deliberate… It has to be…!)

Mason was a highly regarded vassal, often referred to as the right hand of the marquis.

He had secured his position twenty years ago by proposing a tax increase that significantly boosted the territory’s revenue.

This success earned him the marquis’s trust, to the point where he was entrusted with overseeing the estate in the marquis’s absence.

However, if it was revealed that the tax hike had actually been a failure, Mason’s position would be in jeopardy.

Without a doubt, he would be stripped of his current status.

This tax reduction proposal was a direct threat to him.

If the marquis discovered that Mason’s tax policies had harmed the economy rather than strengthened it, the consequences would be dire.

(How did Lior uncover this weakness…? There’s no way a child could figure this out on his own. Someone is pulling the strings behind him.)

It was unthinkable that Lior had pieced together such a complex political flaw on his own.

Not long ago, he had been nothing more than a spoiled, incompetent brat.

This was no coincidence—someone was feeding him information.

Mason’s mind raced through the faces of his fellow vassals.

Who among them would benefit the most from his downfall?

If anyone stood to gain from Mason losing his position, it was them.

It had to be one of them—someone who had coached Lior into presenting this tax proposal.

Even as the marquis’s trusted steward, Mason couldn’t outright ignore the next heir to the title.

Even if Lior was just a foolish child, his status carried undeniable weight.

(…If Lior has become a pawn in someone else’s scheme, then once the power transition happens, I’ll lose everything… In that case, there’s only one solution—I have to kill him.)

Mason’s thoughts clicked into place like a lock turning.

A cornered rat will bite the cat.

A cornered Mason had made up his mind.

If Lior and whoever was manipulating him were allowed to continue pressing him, Mason would eventually be eliminated.

But if he struck first—if he got rid of Lior—he could bury this tax reform proposal along with him.

(The fact that they came at me with such a roundabout strategy means that Lior suspects I was involved in his abduction… but he lacks definitive proof.)

(That means, as long as I kill him before he finds that proof, this entire problem disappears.)

Mason smiled pleasantly, casually placing the documents Lior had given him onto his desk.

“Understood. I will take this proposal under consideration. It is a matter that requires careful thought.”

“Got it. I’ll be counting on you.”

As Mason put on a practiced, insincere smile, Lior nodded in satisfaction.

How utterly clueless.

He had no idea he was about to die.

A pig on its way to slaughter probably felt just as carefree as Lior did right now.

“By the way, Lord Lior, I hear you’ve taken an interest in swordsmanship. Might I suggest hiring a proper instructor?”