Salvation of the Scum Fifth Prince

The prickles of hair on the back of Soren’s neck tingled, sending an ominous wave over the boy as he frowned. He straightened his posture and glanced out of the balcony, weary of any strange signs, but found nothing.

Finding nothing, Soren turned to look at Damien, wondering if the teenager had finally decided to kill him.

"Is there a problem, master?"

Soren pursed his lips. "I have a disturbed feeling."

Damien said, "Shall I look around?"

Soren was a little surprised at Damien's trust. Who would take his words seriously, especially with the identity he had? Then, after ruminating it, this was likely Damien being a perfect butler — it was no wonder the original had tolerated the teenager for so long, despite being a prickly character.

The sort of languid, uncaring behaviour that never crossed the line, remaining in the shadows. Damien was a person who could kill a person indifferently, but smile if he found something interesting.

Really useful.

However, Soren truly had a bad feeling, the sort he had during the apocalypse when one of his team members betrayed him, or a monster attacked out of the blue. After all the time, the only thing a person could really trust was their intuition, which was as good as any other power.

He scanned the area in front of him carefully, but found nothing wrong.

‘What sort of disgusting thing is going to happen today?’

"No need." said Soren as he leaned back again. 

The item after the chain whip was something Soren knew well. A rare plant that was said to have extremely high medical properties, and was also extremely toxic. It would be the deadliest poison or the most effective medicine.

Duxelas, a beautiful flower embedded with rose gems. 

The toxins, however, lied within the gems and could not be used. For those who were enchanted by the glittering stones and attempted to touch it, their skin would corrode at a touch.

If Soren remembered correctly, in the future there would be a person who found the specific medical properties and used it to make a well-known medicine that eventually sold to commoners after they also discovered a production method.

Presently, although there were signs of the flower having medical properties, the extreme side effects that didn’t seem to have a particular cause, made people weary.

Despite that, they would surely auction the flower for a high price.

As expected, the auctioneer called out, "The deadly, yet beautiful Duxelas, starting bid for one million gold!"

"I'm sure all of you here know what this enchanting plant can do. It's been said to bring back limbs for some, and leave others limbless! If you can discover the secrets of this rare plant, how far do you think you can go?"

"Going for 1.1 million to number 24!"

"1.2 million to number 9!"

A voice called out, "3 million!"

"Wow! A big number there! 3 million for number 67!" exclaimed the auctioneer, only raising the excitement in the room.

If studied properly, Soren thought that this rare species could even save the Fourth Prince. Unfortunately, he had no means of discovering the properties behind the flower, and the person who found the method would only learn of it after three years — two years too late. 

Atlas would die in less than a year.

Not to mention, it was easier for Soren to gain the bag of herbs won at the fighting ring. Most winners thought of it as trash and wasted it, but within the bag was a Kenia petal, affective for the illness Atlas suffered from. 

The bag of herbs wasn’t actually useless, or it wouldn’t be part of the winning prize, but the participants were often crude members from the slums who didn’t know what to do with the herbs, other than grinding it up and smearing on.

Medicine, including herbal medicine, had certain methods to make it efficient.

Soren only had to grind it up and seep tea with it for a certain period, and it would extend Atlas' life by a little. By then, somebody should realize that the tea helped him, and develop a proper medicine for it.

 Snake bites weren't uncommon, it was just that Atlas had an allergy to the venom and contracted some strange disease.

It wouldn't be difficult for somebody to make medicine once knowing of the herb.

Then a familiar voice spoke. "Seven million."

It was in the same commanding, bland tone as Soren, but much louder and more powerful, as if the person was used to speaking in front of a crowd and dominating. Strangely, the voice seemed to come from above his seat.

"Okay! Seven million to number 11! Going once, going twice and..."

"7.5 million." called out Soren calmly.

"7.5 million to number 99! Number 99 again! Going once, going twice and..."

"Ten million." said Vincent, narrowing his eyes as the hooded person next to him laughed.

"Ten million! Going once, going twice and... sold! Sold to number 11 for ten million! Please pick up your purchase after the auction!"

Damien glanced at Soren who had been lazily sinking into his chair the entire time, not even sparing a look outside when auctioning. He asked, “Did you want the plant, master?"

"No." said Soren. "Just wanted to piss him off."

"......"

Soren said nothing after Damien's silence and allowed the rest of the auction to continue peacefully. He hadn't forgotten that during the dinner, Vincent almost convinced the King not to give him money, which would've made the auction much more troublesome.

He guessed that Vincent or Deimos might recognize his voice as well, which made it much more worthwhile. 

If Vincent became like Deimos, and started playing 'family' because of Soren's change, it would become displeasing. There was no harm in bidding either, because Vincent was the sort that wouldn’t give up once going after something, nor would he half-heartedly place a bid.

In addition, Soren got some vengeance for the original, who had been ignored by his eldest brother.

Well, that was a lie.

Soren didn’t care that much. This charming, cold-faced reincarnated was simply a petty person.

The original’s past — Soren wouldn’t interfere with it more than he originally planned. But Vincent’s actions had been toward the present him, and he wouldn’t let it go, no matter how insignificant.

He leaned back, satisfied as the last item he wanted appeared.

[The Transmigrator's Last World]

A hard copy of the same novel he had read in his past life, that appeared in the story while Raphael was exploring. Raphael learned the truth of his life from there, and only he had the ability to read it. 

It was said to have appeared in the grand auction at an early point before Atlas’ death, then fell into the hands of a scientist who tried to decipher the words, then into a noble’s house, where it sat as decoration, and finally to Raphael, who it was destined to find all along.

Soren was fairly sure that this was the auction, as the several items sold so far, including the chain he bought, would later make the auction date engraved in history as one of the best auctions.

Not to mention, it was the only mysterious text sold in this auction.

Why?

Because the book was written in English, the most commonly used language on Earth, but an unknown text in this world. Soren had a feeling that there would still be pages missing, as he had seen in his past life, and that the full story wouldn't be discovered until it was time for Raphael to see it.

Well, if they were a genius like Damien, perhaps they could decipher it. Or if they had access to some miraculous tools, though that possibility was unlikely.

What Soren wanted from the book was a map, located on the front pages, detailing all the hidden areas and places Raphael discovered.

How could one go on an adventure without a map?

More importantly, even if Soren's memory was above average, how could somebody directionally challenged survive walking around based on memory?

Not to mention, this was like the whip. The people who bid on it were curious, intrigued nobles, but they would not spend a hasty sum on something that may be trash. The book looked extremely plain, with a blank leather cover and thick pages inbetween — it wasn't the most appealing object for auction.

The auctioneer sold it as a ‘mysterious, unreadable' text and started the bid at 200 thousand gold.

"Going to number 57 for 300 thousand!"

"Oh! A rise to 500 thousand to 92!"

The book was more popular because knowledge was well sought out by nobles. They could find somebody to protect them in place of a weapon, but they could not find somebody to give them knowledge.

"550 thousand, going once! Going twice! And..."

Soren called out, "1 million."

"Number 99 is at it again! 1 million, going once, go--"

"1.1 million." said a magnetic, amused voice, echoing through the chattering air.

"Wow! 1.1 million to number 11--"

"2 million." interrupted Soren, lips curving down as he narrowed his eyes.

That stupid voice...

Raphael called out, "2.5 million."

Soren continued, "3 million."

"3.1 million."

"...3.5 million."

"3.7 million."

"4 million."

Soren had reached the limits of how much he could pay. He turned to Damien with a frown and asked, "Do I have any other savings?"

“Do you have any savings I do not know of, master?"

Of course not. 

How could he when the original didn't know the definition of 'saving money'? Soren sighed in frustration, sinking back into the chair.

As expected, Raphael called out, "5 million."

Soren ignored it, closing his eyes as he felt the soft fabric underneath his body. 

‘Annoying.’

"Going once! Going twice, and.... sold! To number 11 for 5 million! Please pick up your item after the auction!"

Was the book simply fated to end up in Raphael’s hands? Soren imagined the protagonist’s twisted expression when realizing he was a part of a novel and thought it wasn’t so bad.

‘It’s good to look at the positive side.’

What absolute bull crap. 

But what person could stay calm after realizing his entire life was a story, a game planned out by an unknown author? It was unlikely, even for somebody like Raphael.

Soren wasn't one to consider the optimistic side of failure, but a reward like that would indeed be brilliant.

Served him right for stealing the book.

As for the changes in the plot that would occur from Raphael learning the truth early on? That wasn't Soren's problem to deal with. What genius placed him in a novel world and expected things to continue normally? 

Impossible. Even without trying, Soren would cause trouble.

Deciding there was nothing he could do, he slumped back and stared blankly at the wall, letting his mind drift. From the beginning, he had already considered the possibility of the items being bought, although he couldn’t have predicted Raphael.

Soren thought of an animal back on earth: the incredible, and amazing, hippopotamus.

They looked cute and friendly on the outside, though Soren thought they were quite ugly as adults, but could also become aggressive and bare their fangs at random. They randomly kill and consume things in their path, growing more and more obese without restraint. 

They were quite dumb. 

That sort of unpredictable creature — what a fitting animal for Raphael. 

Soren tapped his finger on the armrest, trailing further into his thoughts.

Raphael and Vincent... when had they met?

Soren sighed. It didn't matter. Vincent was Raphael's close friend in the novel, despite differing greatly from each other in terms of personality, and helped in Raphael's ordeals. Vincent was also one of the members that didn't betray Raphael and remained loyal to the end.

In that category it included Damien, who wasn't quite loyal but also wouldn't betray somebody unless there was a significant benefit to it, and Vincent, who was more loyal than any other person. 

Thinking about it, Raphael's other companion that stayed by his side was the crazy magician, Brioc Laurier. 

The three of his most loyal companions were also the ones that seemed the most suspicious — quite interesting to think about. Raphael had other allies and contacts, though they weren't close enough for Raphael to trust them.

Soren would usher Damien in Raphael's direction after the fighting ring, since he didn't need the observant fox to watch over him for too long. He could probably have Raphael appear in the area where the fox tribe children were kidnapped, and have Damien follow Raphael out of gratitude and respect.

The sooner the troublesome elements around him were removed, the better. 

"Well ladies and gentlemen, the auction had come to a close for the night! It's been wonderful seeing you all, and I hope you had a pleasant time! For those who bought something, please pick it up at the front, and for any others, enjoy the rest of your evening! See you next time!." called the auctioneer with a wide smile as the crowd exited.

Soren lingered behind as the amount of people decreased rapidly, only moving when few were left. He directly went to the front, greeting a familiar girl who was holding a beautiful, obsidian box.

He strode up to her and asked, “That is mine?"

"Number 99, a purchase of the black whip for 1 million, correct?"

He nodded, and she handed the box to him.

"Thanks." said Soren as he turned to leave.

"In a rush?" inquired an irritating voice from behind.

Soren frowned and continued walking, only to have the person continue speaking. "Didn't you want this book, Count Raphael?"

The name 'Raphael' was drawn out, making Soren affirm the identity of the speaker.

The prince paused.

The map within the book was extremely convenient for him, and Raphael asked as if he were about to offer it up on a silver platter. Although Soren considered the fact that this bothersome hippo was messing with him, he slowly turned around.

"I do."

"Here you go. Catch." said Raphael, tossing the bound book at Soren, who caught it on the top of the box.

Soren narrowed his eyes. "The catch?"

"It's a gift for helping me out last time."

"An expensive gift." commented Soren.

"A price worthy of my life." replied Raphael.

Soren raised a brow as if questioning the legibility of his words. Raphael almost felt offended at the other's expression of thinking, 'your life is worth that much?' but ignored it smoothly.

"In fact," continued the protagonist casually, "I didn't plan to buy it. I didn't think you would stop at just 4 million, really. After all, didn't you bid 7.5 million earlier?"

Soren didn't mind admitting the truth, and was about to calmly explain that he wanted to piss the First Prince off before Raphael said, "And surely, a prince wouldn't have only 4 million in their savings, right?"

"It wasn't worth a large sum." lied Soren smoothly without a change in his expression. Damien followed along and didn't even glance at Soren, silently accepting the lie as a truth.

Raphael smiled. "Really?"

Soren nodded. "Really."

Raphael looked at him for a few moments and laughed. After his many lifetimes, it was impossible for him not to notice any minor facial expressions, even the most subtle. Not to mention, the him before the endless cycles of torment hadn't been so indifferent to people, and took great care to observe others.

'A liar, and a supposed scum. What a worthwhile combination.'

On the other hand, Soren wanted to leave. "Is that all?"

"You're leaving already? Your elder brother is going to come out soon."

"And?"

"Don't you know you should respect elders?"

Soren glanced at him lazily. "I'll learn to respect him when he respects me." he said casually, swiftly turning around and leaving without another word. "Thanks for the book."

The door slammed shut.

Raphael promptly pulled it open again.

Soren, who had just stepped out onto the pathway, frowned. He turned around after being followed for a few steps and said, "What are you doing?"

"I'm wondering," said Raphael slowly, "If such a coincidence exists where my saviour would have the same name as me?"

"An unfortunate coincidence." replied Soren regretfully, though his eyes showed no emotion.

"Is my name not a fortunate coincidence?"

"Do you believe that?"

"I do."

“Then you're delusional."

Raphael laughed, but this time, his expression showed a deadly glint behind the careless facade. "Well, Prince Soren, it doesn't matter if there was no coincidence to begin with."

Because of his playful, relaxed demure, it was easy to forget that the protagonist had been blackened over many lifetimes. However, Soren hadn't forgotten, or more accurately, didn't pay attention to his personality to begin with.

Soren had realized that his identity was exposed when Raphael asked about his brother earlier, and didn't show any surprise. "I'm here to play around, and my identity is a hassle."

"Do you like that name 'Raphael'?"

“I saw a stray dog rolling in a dumpster once, a long time ago. A child had called it 'Raphael'."

Soren continued, "I had found it odd and remembered it, but now I find it quite fitting."

Although a hippo suited Raphael more than a dog, thought Soren silently.

The prince said it with such a straight expression, that any other would've believed him. In fact, Raphael, if not for his cautious nature, almost believed him as well.

This was because Soren hadn't told a complete lie, and no minor fluctuations could be seen.

During his time on earth, he had seen a large dog run out onto the road and rummage through garbage, chewing on rotting food. Then, a child had run up and called out 'Raphael!', which Soren found to be an interesting choice of a name.

"Stray dogs are incredible, surviving on scraps." replied Raphael cooly. "What an honour."

"The dog was plump and slow, plunging into the dumpster. Maybe it was a runaway who had left the safety of its home to mess around, but failed."

Raphael commented, "A rich dog."

"A useless dog." retorted Soren.

Raphael stared at the prince in front of him and felt a headache coming on. There was a sizeable difference between Vincent, who he had befriended, and Soren, who picked pointless fights without even trying. 

Soren said, "I recalled that memory when choosing a name. It looks like I didn't generate enough good karma yet, to have chosen such an unlucky name."

"What a coincidence." mused Raphael, watching Soren with his twilight eyes.

Soren didn't look away. "Yes."

The evening wind was shallow, brushing against their faces and lightly playing with their hair. It was a cloudy evening, only a glimmer of moonlight peeking from behind grey, but the light was enough to make out an expression, even in the darkness. 

Soren felt the probing gaze observing every movement, from the slight of his hand to the twitch of his eye. It was far from comfortable, and his frown soon deepened. He hadn't expected Raphael to befriend Vincent so easily, or for him to appear in the auction — or he wouldn't have used the name.

The protagonist had once been a reckless, yet kind man who saved many people. His sense of justice was high and as a hero, there was no better.

Until he experienced hell.

Over and over again.

A hell that only Soren knew of, told by the many pages in the story. A hell that Soren himself wasn't entirely unfamiliar with, from his past during the apocalypse.

But now, the person standing in front of him was an extremely cautious, crafty individual who had long thrown his kindness into the trash. Of course, the idiot would likely still try to stop the world from ending despite his many failures, but he was walking on a fine tightrope.

On the brink of breaking apart.

Right now, Soren could say with certainty: 'He is skeptical of me.'

And Raphael could only think: 'This boy is suspicious.'

A mutual indifference toward the other, yet one with growing suspicion, and other other with growing avoidance. Raphael would not allow for any unknown factors to remain around him, and Soren didn't want to involve himself with the unexplainable characters of the novel.

Soren broke the silence first. "If that is all, I will be off."

Raphael looked at him quietly before grinning. “Then take care, Count Raphael."

In Raphael's experience, there was only one option for dealing with uncertain factors. That was:

Eliminate the suspicions.