Chapter 5: The Debts We Owe

“No, that won’t be necessary. Let me lead the way.”

Despite a lingering sense of unease, Simon rose to follow Clint. Guided by him, he boarded the carriage and headed toward Rut’s home. They turned into alleyway after alleyway, moving deeper until the path became too narrow for the carriage to pass. Only after walking a bit further into the cramped passage did Clint finally come to a halt.

“Is… is this really the place?”

Simon was profoundly shocked.

Rut’s house looked like an abandoned ruin. Beyond merely being old and shabby, it appeared dangerously unstable, as if it might collapse at any moment. The surroundings were a monotonous gray, strewn with rolling litter. A musty, pungent odor hung in the air.

‘Why is she living in a place like this?’

Simon’s expression grew grave. A butler’s weekly wage was by no means small, and Rut was never one for extravagance. Because he had vaguely assumed she was living well, maintaining the same respectable appearance she always showed, the sight of her home was nothing short of a travesty.

A boy who looked to be in his mid-teens was standing in front of the house. He brightened when he saw Clint.

“Clint! Are you here to see me?”

Clint greeted the boy with a light fist bump and introduced Simon.

“This is Mr. Simon Grayan. And this is Leri Rut, Ms. Rut’s nephew. Mr. Simon was looking for her, so I brought him along.”

“Hello,” Simon said.

However, Leri didn’t offer a warm response. He scanned Simon up and down with a sullen look. For some reason, his gaze was hostile.

“You kicked her out, and now you show up here?”

Simon had no idea what he was talking about. Kicked her out? Who kicked who out? He had a very bad feeling about this; it wasn’t something he could just let slide.

“What do you mean by that? Please, tell me everything.”

“Ugh. Why bother?”

Simon grabbed Leri’s arm, pleading earnestly. “Please, tell me. Please?”

“Leri,” Clint added, supporting Simon.

Reluctantly, Leri opened his mouth.

“…Last year, your side told my aunt they wanted her to leave. They said having a butler with a family in debt was beneath the house’s dignity.”

“I never said any such thing!”

How could he have ever been so cold-hearted toward Rut?

“Are you saying I’m a liar?”

Clint stepped in to calm Leri as the boy prepared to snap back, then turned to Simon. “Nothing comes to mind?”

“Nothing at all… When she left, my Uncle Dalton said they had a good talk and… ah.”

Simon realized it then. Uncle Dalton had told him she had resigned, but in reality, he had fired her. It was exactly the kind of thing Dalton would do—a man obsessed with status, level, and appearances.

“She never said a word to me.”

“And you never said a word to her until the day she left, right?”

“……”

Stung by the truth, Simon fell silent. Rut believed Simon had agreed to fire her, and Simon believed Rut had left of her own accord. It was the price of his refusal to communicate. If he had only had a proper conversation with her back then, this misunderstanding would never have happened. It was the direct result of his own passivity.

“I can’t believe she thought that… I have to clear this up. Where is she? Where is she now?”

“She’s working.”

“Can you take me there?”

“Sure… if you insist.”

Leri seemed to weigh his options for a moment before agreeing. While Lizzie stayed behind at the house, Simon and Clint followed Leri to Rut’s workplace.

Marriott Rut was a classic beauty with deep blonde hair and blue eyes. Even though she was over forty, her face remained elegant enough to draw eyes.

But it wasn’t just her appearance that was exceptional. Her meticulous nature and sharp mind had allowed her to rise from a maid to the position of estate manager, despite the constraints of her birth and gender. Simon’s choice had also played a major role; ignoring the prejudice that female maids couldn’t hold management positions, he had recognized her ability and appointed her himself.

She had once commanded dozens of servants and managed vast budgets, surrounded by everything sophisticated and luxurious. But that was all in the past.

Now, she was a laborer in a laundry factory. Her job was to remove stains from white cloth—a tedious, demanding task. Her hands, which used to always wear clean white gloves, were now ruined by harsh chemicals. her posture was hunched, and her forehead was slick with sweat from the heat. The dignified, noble image of her days as a butler had vanished, leaving only the marks of grueling labor on her face. Yet, her eyes remained as intelligent as ever.

Whenever she stood there brushing away stains, the days she spent working at the manor felt like a dream.

‘I wonder if Master Simon is doing well…’

Rut had first seen Simon right after he was born. At the time, she was a maid, and the doctor had said Simon wouldn’t survive the night.

But Simon had lived. He had clung to life, overcoming crisis after crisis every single night. Rut had stayed up with him, rooting for him.

Perhaps that was why Simon was such a precious child to her. Even now that he was a grown adult, Rut often saw the shadow of that tiny baby in him. She truly wished for the happiness of the child who had fought so hard to survive.

There was a time she thought Simon held her in special regard too. Even now, with that illusion shattered, thinking of him still brought a pang of affection to her heart.

Her beautiful blue eyes began to mist over. Seeing this, the labor foreman slunk toward her.

“Oh, Marriott. Tiring work, isn’t it?”

The foreman casually placed a hand on Rut’s shoulder. He had had his eye on her from the start, and as soon as he learned she was working there to pay off a debt, he had begun to harass her overtly. Rut gritted her teeth and shifted to avoid the hand trying to stroke her back. Filthy man. Even if she cursed him in her head, she had no choice but to laugh it off on the outside.

Falling into debt hadn’t been her fault. When her younger brother fell ill, her mother had taken out a bank loan using their house as collateral. But her brother couldn’t beat the illness, passing away and leaving behind nothing but debts and children. Even then, it was a standard loan, and Rut’s earnings were enough to slowly pay back the principal and interest.

Then, one day, the Eragon Investment Company acquired the bank and sold the “unrecoverable” loans to loan sharks. The Rut family’s debt was among them. An employee of Eragon had tricked her elderly mother into signing a document. The old woman didn’t even know what she was signing, and suddenly the family was buried under high-interest private debt. It was an infuriating situation, but there was no legal recourse. The loan sharks threatened them for the mounting interest, while the police and administrative authorities looked the other way, claiming they had no way to help.

In the midst of that, Rut was fired from the Grayan manor. She sold the house and emptied her savings to barely cover the principal, but the interest remained. Until the debt was paid, Rut was forced to work at this laundry factory recommended by the loan sharks. Her weekly wage was pittance compared to her time as a butler, and the sharks took half of that, making it impossible to even maintain a basic lifestyle.

Whenever the future looked bleak, her mind naturally drifted back to the Grayan estate.

‘If it were Master Simon… surely he would help?’

Life was so hard that the thought of seeking him out had crossed her mind. But that was her final shred of pride. She had devoted her life to that house, only to be kicked out the moment her family fell into debt. The emptiness and disappointment she felt were immeasurable. That event remained a deep wound. To go back there now and beg for a favor was something she couldn’t allow herself to do. Foolish as it might be, she didn’t want Simon to see her in this state.

“If it’s too hard, you can come to my room and rest for a bit. What do you say?”

The foreman was particularly persistent today, closing the distance between them. When Rut looked around, the people who had been watching quickly averted their eyes. They didn’t want to lose their jobs by getting on the foreman’s bad side. Among them, her eyes met exactly one person.

A young gentleman who wasn’t short, but looked incredibly thin and sensitive: Simon Grayan.

‘Why is Master Simon here…!’

Rut was so shocked that she momentarily pushed the foreman aside, intending to go to Simon. Her only thought was that she had to stop him from entering the room because of the heavy chemicals used in the laundry.

The foreman, however, saw things differently. Having been shoved away while making his advances, he stood up, his rage reaching its boiling point.

“You b*tch! How dare you!”

The foreman grabbed Rut by the hair. Simon, who had been approaching her, widened his eyes in horror. He had been looking for Rut while reeling from the appalling conditions of the factory. And the moment he found her, some man was grabbing her by the hair. The brute raised his arm as if to strike her.

‘No.’

Simon ran with all his might and threw his arms around her. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the impact of a fist, but the pain never came. He slowly opened his eyes to see Clint holding the foreman’s arm. He hadn’t been hit because Clint had blocked it.

Simon clutched his heart, which was trembling uncontrollably. He was able to focus on reality only because the foreman started screaming.

“Who the hell are you people!”

“Harassing and trying to hit someone… what do you think you are doing?” Simon challenged him, his voice laced with anger.

He was right, but the foreman was a shameless man. “What! I’m just managing my subordinate!”

“Ha! Does being a subordinate mean you can hit them?”

“In here, yes!”

“Then she shouldn’t be working in a place like this. Rut, let’s go. Don’t work here anymore.”

Simon realized words wouldn’t work and gave up on arguing. He took Rut’s hand. Rut had been staring at him in utter shock for a while now. It was the first time she had ever seen Simon raise his voice or stand up to someone. He was capable of this. Even though she had watched him grow up her whole life, this side of him was entirely foreign.

“Don’t make me laugh! You know this woman is a debtor? That she’s only here because of the money she owes? She can’t leave until every cent is paid back!”

The foreman grabbed Rut’s other hand and yanked.

“A debt… to treat a person like this over something like that. Ha.”

Simon let out a sigh. In the end, that was the root of all the problems. He reached into his inner breast pocket and pulled out a small checkbook. He was glad he’d grabbed it at the last second, just in case.

“How much is the debt?”

“It’s… it’s quite a lot…”

“How much.”

“Master Simon!” Rut tried to stop him.

Seeing her distress, the foreman realized this was his chance and answered immediately.

“Eight million dil.”

The legally recommended minimum hourly wage was one thousand dil. Eight million dil was an amount a minimum-wage worker would have to work for two years straight, fourteen hours a day without a single day off, just to save. Considering that almost no businesses actually applied the minimum wage, it was virtually impossible to pay off eight million dil even with double or triple that time.

However, Simon didn’t even flinch when he heard the amount. He nonchalantly wrote the number 8,000,000 on a check and signed it at the bottom.

Rip!

The sound of the check being torn echoed through the quiet laundry factory. Simon handed the check to the foreman.

“There. Satisfied?”

The foreman was stunned. Who is this guy, not even blinking at eight million dil? The situation was turning serious, but when he realized all the workers were watching him, his pride flared up. If he backed down now, how pathetic would they think he was?

“How am I supposed to trust this? Do you even have the means to pay?”

He actually turned the question back on Simon. Simon was incredulous.

“Are you asking me right now if I have money?”

In his entire life, he had never been asked if he had money. Born as the only son of a wealthy family and having inherited all of it, Simon was a man who, if nothing else, never had to worry about finances. He might lack confidence in other areas, but his wealth was the one thing he was sure of.

The foreman flinched at the attitude that went beyond confidence into pure bewilderment. He glanced at the signature on the check. His eyes widened, and he checked it again properly.

“Simon… Grayan… Grayan!? The Boy Heir?”

A collective gasp went up from the crowd. The Grayan family was famous among the upper class, but Simon Grayan was even more well-known. To have inherited the entire Grayan fortune at seventeen— “The Boy Heir” was a nickname the newspapers had given him because of that young inheritance.

Simon found it a bit tiresome. He was twenty-three now, and being called “Boy Heir” was…

“Is that enough now?”

He wanted to wrap this up quickly and get Rut out of there. He was also anxious to clear up the misunderstanding with her.

“Ah, wait a moment.”

Suddenly, Clint stepped between them.