Chapter 2: The Prince who walked into the Pub.

It was a pub and inn that stayed in business solely because its fish and chips and beer set was 1 Penny cheaper than anywhere else in the vicinity.

The main customers were mercenaries, sailors, and factory workers who lived hand-to-mouth each day.

Even by a country bumpkin’s standards, it was a filthy, smelly, cheap place. It was exactly the kind of place that the high and mighty would loathe and call vulgar.

“How much does this weigh?”

Though he still looked young, he was the personification of the word ‘young master.’ A frock coat, a vest, buttons made of pure white ivory, and a tall hat adorned with beaver fur.

Was it because of his even more splendid face that his flashy attire didn’t look awkward?

Or was it because of his attitude, which wasn’t weighed down by the clothes?

To think that even the white stockings below his knees suited him.

He was a figure that had no place in an inn’s pub that sold stew boiled continuously with whatever was on hand, greasy and soggy fried fish, and lowest-grade ale that seemed scraped from the dregs of a beer barrel.

The boy was such an unrealistic existence that calling him an illusion would have been more convincing.

When the customers, who were always shouting loudly, suddenly shut their mouths as if they had eaten expensive honey, I glanced sideways at the owner.

I wondered if he had suddenly gone crazy and kidnapped a noble boy.

Surprisingly, the owner had his head bowed low.

He held his arms, which usually boasted bulging muscles, neatly together in a very polite posture.

It was evident he was afraid of the boy in front of him.

Most of the customers had their eyes gleaming as if they had found an interesting spectacle. It was amazing that their ears weren’t literally perking up. However, some customers, on the contrary, had their faces stiffly hardened.

What was visible in their expressions was clear anxiety.

The irony was that those who were afraid upon seeing that bright boy were the tough guys of this area.

Just a moment ago, ‘Tough Guy 2,’ who had been drunk and had his head on the table, muttered, “H-hic, D-Dominant Alpha…” before quickly covering his own mouth and sticking to the wall.

Alpha? Alpha Male? The head male?

I blinked my eyes.

Every scene I saw felt like a ridiculous comedy show.

“Are gold coins difficult?” He spoke to me again.

It was a voice that should have sounded awkward, like a child mimicking an adult. But the condescension coming from him, who was still just a boy, was simply natural.

I realized belatedly.

That the VIP I had only heard rumors about was right in front of me.

I had hoped that such a day would come for me too someday, but I never knew it would actually happen.

I had once picked up a story about a noble who selects bright kids, feeds them, clothes them, gives them a place to sleep, educates them, and even gets them jobs.

It was a story that circulated like the ‘hopeful version’ of an urban legend. No one claimed to have seen it personally; they all just said they heard it from somewhere.

Some praised the noble’s mercy. Others disparaged it, saying it was just filling people with useless false hope and asking how anyone could know what the real intention was.

Since both sides were drunks, a fight naturally broke out.

When tables were flying and dishes were rolling on the floor, someone with a relatively sane mind intervened in the fight.

It’s something His Highness the King’s Brother is doing, isn’t it?

It was a spell that stopped the fight.

Both the Prime Minister and the King were figures whose popularity had hit rock bottom.

The reason why could be seen by looking at the people flocking to Billy’s pub just because it was cheaper by a single coin.

It was a simple reason. Because life was hard.

Perhaps as a reaction to that, the King’s Brother, the King’s young sibling, was strangely popular.

I guessed the biggest reason was that he had no real power to be directly involved in state affairs.

Since he did nothing, there was nothing to criticize him for. Moreover, with such heartwarming rumors added on top, it might have been natural for people living hopeless days to harbor vain dreams.

I couldn’t be an exception either.

I let most of the customers’ drunken ramblings go in one ear and out the other, but at that time, I couldn’t help but listen, even though it wasn’t about numbers.

When I first heard the rumors about the King’s Brother, The Prince, I wanted to hold onto something called hope.

The disgusting sight of the dirty pub was my present and also my future.

I wanted to escape from the obvious path ahead. I wanted to eat like a human, dress like a human, and sleep in a room worthy of a human. So I pricked up my ears at the drunks’ barely intelligible stories. I had even run simulations on what I should do if I were lucky enough to meet the King’s Brother.

I knew it was extremely unlikely. It could have been nothing more than a baseless rumor. But if I didn’t do even that, I felt like I would truly despair. That dream had appeared before me like a lie.

I didn’t know why a VIP would do such a thing. But the reason wasn’t immediately important to me.

Whether it was a bored noble’s experience of lower-class life or an immature young master’s play at being the boss of the alley, I didn’t need to distinguish between them.

Even after the mainstream jewelry market moved to Cheongdam-dong, there were big spenders who still visited Jongno.

To me, he was a customer I couldn’t afford to miss. Reviving the desperate feelings and sales mindset of that time, I received the gold coin from him. No, this was a moment far more desperate than back then.

In Jongno, at worst, it would end with losing a customer.

Of course, that was a painful loss too, but it wasn’t a problem where my present, future, and entire life were at stake.

“This is my first time touching a gold coin.”

It wasn’t a lie. It was my first time seeing a 1-Heni gold coin.

In an inn where people squabbled over a single copper coin, 1 Heni was too large a unit. However, I could estimate the weight by its size.

The density of gold is 19.30 g/cm³.

Under the gold standard, for currency to have value, the purity had to be at least over 90%.

That is, on Earth.

I didn’t know exactly how it was here, but I thought it wouldn’t be much different.

And if the purity of this gold coin was over 90%, it should normally weigh about 8 grams.

“Is that so?”

I felt the interest fading from his answering voice. I inhaled slowly and exhaled again.

As if looking into the future, I weighed what I had to say and the answer that would return.

A moment as long as a lifetime passed.

I opened my mouth again.

“Is gold heavier than silver?”

“It is.”

At the question verifying a fact, he showed interest again. It was a good sign.

“Then I understand that for this size, it is too light to be entirely gold. Provided that a normal gold coin has a purity of over 90%.”

The density of copper is 8.94 g/cm³.

For the same volume, gold has more than twice the weight of copper.

Lowering purity and filling the volume with cheaper metals is a common method of counterfeiting coins.

It was also something one always had to be careful of when trading gold. It would be clear if scratched on a touchstone, but I saved my breath at this point. Pretending to know more would only make me look suspicious.

He looked at me with eyes full of curiosity.

What happened next depended entirely on that young master’s will.

“I want to try teaching you. What do you think?”

When he made the offer to me, the pub was engulfed in sudden cheers.

There was no time for me to show any reaction.

“Your Highness! You are the King’s Brother, aren’t you?”

Some fearlessly conducted a census on the noble, while others,

“Wow, you guy, you’re really moving up in the world!”

Slapped my back excitedly with a thud thud, even spraying spittle.

They even clinked beer mugs among themselves and guzzled them down.

It was completely a festive atmosphere.

“What benefit can I gain if I accept Your Highness’s offer?”

My question was like pouring cold water on the festival.

The pub, which had been boisterous, became so quiet that one could almost hear the sound of carbonation popping in flat ale.

“That crazy bastard…!”

“Please forgive him, Your Highness. That guy is too young to know right from wrong.”

I was surprised that there was someone who knew how to speak quite formally, but people were busy making excuses that weren’t really excuses to the King’s Brother, their faces pale.

Just as the person who incited the cheers was the King’s Brother, the person who silenced the chaos was also the King’s Brother.

“You will come to have a job where you can earn money. If you properly learn what is taught.”

As soon as the King’s Brother finished speaking, sighs of relief burst out.

Everyone except me showed the same reaction. I was rather tense.

Others seemed relieved that the King’s Brother gave an answer instead of ordering punishment, but I focused on the fact that he mentioned money.

He seemed to be well aware of the fact that child labor in this era was carried out without wages under the pretext of providing room and board.

I realized that this wasn’t a naive young master playing at impractical charity.

“Do you have any other questions?”

“What benefit does Your Highness gain by taking me in?”

This time too, others reacted before I could.

“Is that bastard really crazy?”

“Your Highness, please have mercy…!”

There were people just groaning “Oh my, oh my” without knowing who they were begging to.

It was while I was watching the chaos as if it were someone else’s business.

“Ugh…!”

A groan escaped my mouth without my realizing it.

Someone kicked the back of my knee, forcing me to kneel. Immediately after, a rough hand pressed down on my shoulder and head.

“Stop.”

When the King’s Brother’s voice was heard, the hand that was about to crush me into the floor stopped abruptly.

I barely shook off that hand and stood up.

Glancing back, the person who had pressed me down was Billy. His shoulders, usually broad, were huddled up as much as possible and trembling.

I realized a little late that the voices of the people who had been babbling freely had cut off.

Because a loud thud had resonated.

It was the sound of people kneeling on the floor all at once.

They were prostrating themselves on the dirty pub floor filled with all sorts of filth, bowing their heads.

Just as I had been when pressed down by Billy.

The only people standing in place were the Prince and myself.