When the Mid-Boss Villainous Noble Recalls Memories of a Past Life and Gains Game Knowledge. I Will Never Accept a Future Where I'm Called the Jealous Earl - Chapter 8

Escorted by guards and servants, I walked through the streets, ensuring the pendant engraved with the emblem of House Dicaman hung visibly around my neck.

“It’s the Count’s House…” “What’s he doing here now, of all times?” “Is he not going to the infirmary?” “So, the rumors were true…”

The townsfolk’s whispers trailed after me, their voices sharp with resentment and skepticism.

“Hold your heads high,” I said, my tone steady as I turned to my entourage. “How can those who serve the Count’s House walk with their gaze cast down? Such an act dishonors our House.”

“…!” The guards exchanged surprised glances before straightening their backs, standing firm against the judgmental eyes around us. No one was immune to the sting of public scorn, but we had no reason to show shame or weakness to those who had forgotten our past kindness and were now misled by twisted truths.

The people were victims of deception, manipulated into believing falsehoods. And while they might be innocent of intentional betrayal, their ignorance served a purpose. The Duke had his reasons, however unsavory. Directing public ire toward the Count’s House lessened the risk of rebellion and kept those who might otherwise turn to crime under control. The Duke’s support of his people was clear and visible; in contrast, the House of Dicaman, despite decades of effort and research into the Red Stone Disease, was seen as incompetent.

“Count…” one of the guards spoke up as we continued down the street.

“Outside, call me Karyl,” I said, glancing back at him. “It’ll save confusion if there’s another Count around.”

“Understood, Karyl-sama,” he replied, a bit awkwardly.

I was called “Count” more often than I liked. Bosco, my steward, always used my name, and with my duties expanding outside the estate, it was time to make the change more permanent.

“What did you want to say?” I asked.

“I wanted to know what we’re doing next, my lord.”

“We’ll continue searching for patients,” I answered.

“Thank you, my lord,” he said, a touch of relief in his voice.
I was looking for those who bore no ill will toward the Count’s House but who, due to the overcrowded infirmaries, hadn’t been able to seek treatment. Despite its size, the main infirmary couldn’t accommodate everyone, leaving many to fend for themselves on the streets.

“…”

We needed to move quickly. The rumors of my presence were spreading, drawing more attention from the town. Among the townspeople, I noticed a few figures whose movements were too calculated, too focused—likely informants or spies.

“Niyet, reveal your thoughts,” I whispered, casting a detection spell. The spell was a gamble, as it could be blocked by anyone with sufficient magical resistance.

(Leave that man!)

(I’ll kill him myself.)

(—watching—us—)

(Rich nobles who’ve never known hardship!)

The voices of the citizens were loud and overwhelming, their anger and frustration clouding the spell. A sharp pain throbbed at my temples, but I kept my expression neutral. Just before ending the spell, a faint voice, tinged with desperation, surfaced amidst the noise.

(The Count… Could he save my mother? But we have no money…)

The tone struck a chord within me, and I opened my eyes, scanning the street. At the entrance to a narrow alleyway, a girl stood, watching us warily. Our eyes met for an instant before she turned and bolted.

“There!” I said, pointing. “Mina and the two fastest guards, follow me. The rest, return to the carriage and stand by.”
The girl darted down the alley, disappearing into the maze-like network of side streets. I pushed through the throng, pursuing her.

“This place is a labyrinth,” I muttered as we navigated the twists and turns. The alley was narrow, lined with crumbling buildings that served as makeshift pathways. I lost sight of her momentarily, but I had managed to attach a thin thread of magical energy to her. As long as she didn’t move too far, I could track her.

“W-wait for us!” called Mina, her voice strained but determined. The sound of armor clanking told me the guards were trying to keep up.

Despite my less-than-athletic frame, I found myself moving faster than expected. It must have been the influence of Jealousy. Those who bore the power of a Sin were elevated beyond normal human limits—my strength and speed effectively doubled.
“There. She’s stopped.”

The trail led us to the slums, an area forgotten by both time and those in power. The girl had vanished into a run-down shack at the edge of the settlement.

“Hah… hah… Karyl-sama…” Mina gasped, catching up. She looked between me and the dilapidated building. “Why… why did we chase her?”

“Potential patient,” I said simply, ignoring the questioning looks from the guards.

I approached the shack and knocked gently on the weathered wood.
“Who… who’s there?” a frightened voice called out from within.
I signaled for the guards to step back, leaving just me and Mina at the entrance.

“I am Karyl Dicaman,” I announced.

“Karyl… Dicaman?” The girl’s voice trembled with confusion, as if the name carried some familiarity but lacked full recognition.

“I’m here to look at your mother’s condition.”

“We don’t have any money! Leave us alone!” she shouted, anger and desperation mixing in her voice.

Her reaction was expected. Earning her trust would take time. With patience, I prepared myself for the conversation ahead.