Kays Translations
Just another Isekai Lover~
Chapter 24: A Banker and a Vampire
Bangalore District, White Sand City’s Famous Wealthy Quarter.
At the outbreak of the war, Old Gavi-Riley had seized the opportunity to buy a mansion at a low price from wealthy citizens who, gripped by panic, were trying to flee the coastal areas vulnerable to air raids. He named the mansion the “Golden House.”
Just as he had named his publishing company the Golden Riley Publishing House, the pure-blooded gnome lineage of Old Gavi-Riley made him obsessed with gold and anything the color of gold.
As for the green-hued “Lant,” the official currency of the Loring Republic that fluctuated with gold prices—well, that was only his second obsession.
But at least this afternoon, whether it was glittering gold or lush green Lants, neither could capture Old Gavi-Riley’s attention.
The reason was simple: sitting in his Golden House mansion, sipping afternoon tea in imitation of the upper-class, Old Gavi-Riley had learned from a servant he had specially sent to spy on his mortal enemy, Ivna, a piece of news that left him utterly perplexed—
The red-haired, girl-like Queen Ivna-Bane had gone mad, throwing caution to the wind and dragging the impoverished little demon from the slums who had authored The Little Prince—a book that had long irked Riley—straight out of the Emerald Crest Publishing House, laughing with unrestrained delight.
Riley’s servant, assigned to tail Ivna, had vaguely overheard her muttering about “ww novels” as she walked alongside the little slum demon.
“WW novels? Tell me… what on earth is that?!”
Besides finding the term awkward to pronounce, Old Gavi-Riley simply could not comprehend it, and thus stared wide-eyed at the servant who had come with the news.
“Master, I… I don’t know. Matters of publishing… they never let us servants know too much…”
The servant answered meekly.
“Silence! Fine. Forget about that damned WW novel for now. Where did they go? Ivna-Bane and that insolent little slum demon who dared humiliate me—where did they go?!”
Unsurprisingly, the servant’s reply displeased Old Gavi-Riley. It was not what he wanted to hear—and it hurt his pride.
He struggled to restrain the impulse to grab the nearby three-Lant porcelain teapot and smash it against the servant’s forehead.
“They went to Mangrove Street, to Mr. Sols, the banker!”
The servant, well aware of Riley’s temper, hurriedly blurted out the information he had gathered.
Mangrove Street was also in the Bangalore District, just back-to-back with Clover Street, where Riley’s Golden House stood.
Yet, although separated by only one street, the land on Clover Street was nearly half the price of Mangrove Street. Therefore, Mangrove Street was where White Sand City’s top families lived, while Clover Street, where Riley resided, could only be considered a second-tier wealthy neighborhood—not bad, but not the best.
“Going to Sols? Ha! How foolish. That old man Sols is about to be ruined by the bank run storm—he’ll be booted out of the Bangalore District soon. And she’s going to him… Foolish! Utterly foolish!”
At the thought of the banker Sols, soon to collapse like a beaten dog and flee Mangrove Street in disgrace, Riley felt a perverse sense of satisfaction, even if he could not claim Sols’ mansion for himself.
This dark anticipation of others’ misfortune restored Riley’s mood, which had been spoiled by his complete inability to understand the meaning of “WW novels.”
Foolish Ivna… this time, I shall see how a red-haired queen like you meets your end.
Almost as Old Gavi-Riley maliciously anticipated the ruin of Sols and Ivna, the conversation between Sols and Ivna had moved past pleasantries and into substance—
“Miss Ivna, this so-called… WW novel you claim will astonish me… what exactly is it?”
The disheveled, unshaven banker Sols, who looked utterly weary, asked the very question Riley had been puzzled over.
Sols was one hundred forty-two years old, yet time had left almost no trace on his face. Even with a scruffy beard, he could easily be mistaken for under thirty.
Rumors had once spread in White Sand City that Sols was of divine blood, but these had been debunked years ago. Sols was no divine descendant—he was a vampire.
Vampires, in this world, were not rare. As long as they obeyed the law, refrained from killing, and paid for fresh blood, even priests and paladins of benevolent deities treated them as if they did not exist.
“No evil races exist, only evil individuals.”
This proverb was often repeated by priests and paladins.
At this moment, however, Sols—scruffy and far removed from the refined mystique of his kind—simply pointed at Ivna, questioning her.
“Ahem. Mr. Sols, allow me to answer that,” Marlon cleared his throat, drawing Sols’ attention. He continued, “A YY novel, also called an ‘erotic fantasy novel,’ is literature designed to realize what cannot be achieved in reality. It is naïve in concept, immense in content, and the storylines often defy factual logic. Its purpose is to release the reader’s suppressed emotions by providing them with a sense of pleasure.”
Thanks to the textual resources in his mind, Marlon explained the meaning of YY novels to banker Sors accurately and effortlessly.
“Alright, I understand, young man. But what does this have to do with me?” Sols’ heavily shadowed eyes lingered briefly on Marlon before returning to Ivna. “Miss Ivna, my butler tells me you are not here to withdraw the deposit. Then… can I assume you have brought a solution—something that can save me and my bank from this damn run?”
Marlon, still too young and unknown, could not hope to command Sols’ attention, even if his appearance matched vampire aesthetics perfectly.
“Yes. I have brought an opportunity that not only resolves your current crisis, Mr. Sols, but could also elevate your bank to be the most renowned and reputable in White Sand City.”
In Sols’ hopeful gaze, Ivna tilted her smooth, rounded chin.
Pausing, she pointed at Marlon, emphasizing each word: “The. One. And. Only. Chance.”
“Is he the key to solving this crisis?”
As a vampire and banker, Sols immediately understood Ivna’s clear implication.
Yet, as if uncertain, he still saw Marlon as too young, too unproven.
“Marlon, explain your genius Three-Win Plan and those boundary-breaking YY novels to Mr. Sors in detail.”
This reaction did not surprise Ivna, so she said calmly.
“As you wish,” Marlon shrugged at Ivna, then turned to Sols and, with a breezy tone, began recounting what he had already explained at Emerald Crest Publishing House: “Mr. Sols, first, we need…”