I’m glad milk tea is so popular.

Perhaps because it was previously only enjoyed in aristocratic circles, milk tea proved immensely popular among common citizens.

“I didn’t expect it to be this popular. Seems like many people are treating it as a coffee substitute.”

“If we add brownies here, it’ll become even more popular.”

“Brownies?”

Sikar, who had been listening to Hersia and my conversation, chimed in supportively.

“Brownies have that chewy texture.”

“But I’ve never heard of such a food before.”

In this world, baking powder is primarily used, so brownies would be entirely unfamiliar.

“It’s simple. When making chocolate cake, just omit the baking powder.”

“What? Such a cake exists? We happen to have ingredients—I’ll ask Aron to try making some right now.”

Hersia immediately explained something to Aron, and after carefully listening to her, Aron began making brownies.

“Water ratio is important too. Too much, and it becomes like a muffin; too little, and it turns into hard, stiff bread.”

Sikar added a comment, but Aron failed to adjust the water properly and ended up with muffin-like brownies.

“Duke, could you teach him a bit?”

“Why me?”

“Hurry up.”

Though visibly annoyed, Sikar reluctantly walked toward the oven, wearing the expression of someone forced to help because I’d asked.

I’d seen him make cakes before, but never brownies—still, since he understood the theory precisely, instructing others posed no issue.

I hadn’t expected much from the brownies he made. Yet, they turned out delicious.

The moment Aron tasted Sikar’s brownie, his face lit up with awe, and he smacked his lips appreciatively.

“I’ve never had bread this chewy before!”

Everyone murmured “Let me try one,” then took a piece each—then two, then three, reaching for more. Sikar’s brownies vanished in an instant.

Kian, who especially loved chocolate cake, even wore a blissful expression after tasting the brownie.

If I’d known it would turn out like this, I should’ve made brownies myself earlier.

“This is the first cake I’ve ever had that’s soft, moist, yet chewy!”

“This is the best cake I’ve ever eaten, Duke!”

Even Vika, known for his picky palate, peeled off traces of brownie stuck to the paper and ate them, nodding in approval.

“I’ll give you credit for this one.”

Sikar precisely explained the water ratio to Aron and told him to try again.

Aron didn’t succeed immediately, but it seemed he’d improve quickly with practice—he clearly adored brownies.

“Father. Can you make me more brownies?”

It seemed Kian had grown so comfortable with Sikar that he now made such requests without hesitation.

No, not a request—he ordered as if it were only natural, and Sikar accepted it as if it were only natural too.

“If you wish. Shall I make one more?”

Kian even clapped his hands, cheering Sikar on to make it delicious.

Watching their unreserved interaction, I felt unexpectedly moved.

Memories of when they’d first snarled at each other like wild beasts welled up inside me, filling my chest with emotion.

While Sikar baked brownies, everyone except Hersia and me stood beside him, mesmerized.

Vika pretended disinterest but kept glancing sideways, occasionally licking his lips.

“By the way, does this mean Aron will resign from knighthood and go into business with you?”

Hersia looked at me with surprised eyes, as if she hadn’t considered that.

“What? Business?”

“Isn’t that why you’re teaching Aron how to make brownies?”

“Oh… I only asked because I can’t cook myself…”

Hersia thought for a moment, glanced briefly at Aron, then looked back at me.

“Do you think Aron would agree to that?”

Judging by Aron’s current enthusiasm, he seemed as interested in baking as he once was in wielding a sword.

“We should discuss it properly. By the way, what’ll I do if I can’t see you often anymore? You’ll be busy once you start the business.”

“I’ll visit you very often—with personalized service. Oh, have you seen the new catalog from Mahidil Boutique? I’ll bring that too.”

“Then I’m truly grateful.”

Meanwhile, Hersia kept selling milk tea—customers were pouring in. Unsurprisingly, ingredients ran out again quickly.

“Aron. We’ll need more milk.”

“Again? Duke, I’ll go buy some right away since we’re out of milk.”

But Sikar, busy baking bread, couldn’t hear Aron’s words.

“I’ll be back!”

After bowing to Hersia, Aron hurried off holding a basket, collided with someone, dropped the basket—but swiftly caught it mid-air with quick reflexes.

Hersia gaped at Aron as if falling for him all over again.

“Oh my. How impressive.”

Since the milk bottles inside the basket nearly shattered, Aron glared fiercely.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!”

But the fallen man didn’t try to stand up—he kept his head bowed low. Looking closer, his shoulders trembled violently, as if he were crying.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Seeing the man cry, Aron awkwardly muttered “It’s fine” and walked away.

He appeared to be a man in his mid-thirties, and even afterward, he remained seated on the ground for quite a while.

What could have happened to make him like this?

“He probably lost all his money in a dice game.”

“A dice game?”

Vika pointed toward a spot and spoke.

“They’re playing dice over there—he must’ve come from there.”

It might’ve been visible to Vika’s eyes, but I couldn’t see anything. From Vika’s explanation, it seemed the man had been thoroughly swindled by con artists.

To think they’d dare run such scams during the kingdom’s celebratory festival—how infuriating. Just as I thought this, Kian stood up.

“Let’s go, Mister Vika.”

Normally, Vika would’ve grumbled about it being bothersome and gone reluctantly—but perhaps because he was waiting for brownies, he perked up like a startled meerkat.

“Where to?”

“One of my subjects may have suffered injustice. As a ruler, I can’t idly rest while such things happen.”

Perhaps because Kian removed his cute hooded cap as he spoke, he looked incredibly dashing.

“Oh, no…”

“Go. Hurry.”

Kian didn’t give the flustered Vika time to hesitate—he approached the seated man and helped him up.

“Stand up. We’re going to recover your money.”

The man stared at Kian in confusion, but when Vika followed Kian and threatened to kill him if he didn’t get up immediately, the man sprang to his feet and followed.

I followed the two of them as well.

Sikar nearly ripped off his apron asking “Where are you going?” but, upon hearing we’d be back shortly, merely told us not to be late and resumed kneading dough.

Durion tried to leave to accompany Kian, but since it wasn’t far, he was instructed to assist Sikar with baking instead. We headed toward the location where the rigged gambling was taking place.

The con artists weren’t far away. Vika watched the dice game with arms crossed, wearing a disdainful expression.

“To fall for such tricks. Humans, honestly.”

Elves have sharp vision—they’d never be fooled by such things.

Wait—then why not let Vika win all the money back?

I suggested a rather good plan to Kian and Vika, and both nodded simultaneously, seemingly pleased.

Essentially, the plan was for Vika to win back all the money.

The con artists eyed Vika hungrily.

If they knew Vika was actually a dark elf hybrid, they’d never have let him join—but since he appeared merely as a dark-skinned human, they welcomed him with open arms.

Then, astonishingly, Vika identified the cup hiding the dice with ridiculous ease.

How could he find it so effortlessly?

Strangely, Kian seemed just as amazed—he gaped alongside the onlookers, staring at Vika. So did I.

As Vika kept winning money, the con artists grew angry and barred him from further participation.

“Hey now, that’s enough. Even crooks have limits. We won’t take your bets anymore.”

“You rascals! Why won’t you take my money?”

“Because you keep winning suspiciously every time you bet.”

“Fine? Then I won’t play.”

What? Giving up so easily?

I couldn’t understand Vika’s behavior—he’d clearly agreed earlier to win all the money back.

Was he just being lazy? At that very thought, ironically, the con artists grabbed Vika again.

“Fine. Then bet everything you’ve got.”

Without answering, Vika pulled out all his money and placed it on the table.

“Start.”

Judging by their demeanor, the con artists seemed determined to cheat.

The dice game resumed, and the con artists spun the cups.

“Bet money, win money. Bad luck? You lose everything. Good luck? You strike gold. Don’t chatter—just place your bets!”

After finishing his spiel, the con artist aligned the cups and watched Vika’s reaction. Vika placed his money in front of the center cup.

“Let’s see if the dice are truly under this cup!”

When the con artist lifted the cup, we naturally expected dice to be underneath—but there were none.

What just happened?

So, Vika hadn’t been skilled from the start—he’d been deliberately allowed to win, lured into betting everything.

“Well then, thank you for your efforts.”

As the con artist chuckled and reached to sweep up the money, Vika seized both his hands and said to me,

“Please flip over the remaining cups too.”

Following Vika’s instruction, we flipped all remaining cups—but the dice were nowhere to be found.

When Vika began shaking the con artist’s hands, dice hidden in his sleeve tumbled out, rolling across the floor.

“So this is how you’ve been winning money?”

Vika’s discovery was impressive—but the con artist’s reaction was equally remarkable.

“You! What kind of outrage is this? I won’t let you get away with this!”

Though he shouted he wouldn’t stand for it, he remained completely immobilized, both hands firmly gripped by Vika.

When the con artist glanced toward his accomplices for help, two men who’d appeared to be bystanders lunged at Vika.

“Let go of him!”

But all who charged were swiftly knocked down by Vika’s flying kicks and side kicks.

Citizens watching the scene gaped at Vika.

A dark-skinned, beautiful woman knocking down two men and completely immobilizing another—it was an astonishing spectacle.

To me, Vika looked incredibly cool.

Just as I thought they’d surrender now, the fallen men pulled knives from their pockets and charged at Vika.

They swung their knives at Vika in an instant—too close for easy evasion.

At that moment, Reidox appeared, swung his sword, and knocked the knives from the men’s hands.