Chapter 113

Chapter 113: Shall I Bet My Life Once More? (1)

All that was left now was to mass-produce it and properly commercialize the product.

“For now, stir this thoroughly.”

The workers diligently stirred the extract as Ghislain instructed.

After stirring for a while and letting it cool, the extract gradually became more viscous.

Ghislain scooped a little with his finger and rubbed it between his fingers.

The extract melted seamlessly, absorbing quickly into the skin.

The workers slowly approached Ghislain and asked hesitantly.

“Wh-what is that, my lord?”

If this were another estate, these commoners would never have dared to speak to their lord.

In fact, they wouldn’t have even thought of speaking to him in the first place.

But because Ghislain had been casually conversing with the estate residents without any formalities, simple questions like these could now be asked without hesitation.

“Is it a kind of ointment?”

“It has a very pleasant scent.”

Ghislain responded with a satisfied expression.

“Oh, don’t you know? This is called ‘essence.’ It’s a concentrated extract of beneficial components from herbs.”

“What do you use it for?”

“Nobles use it for skin care. There are a lot of people who are obsessed with beauty.”

“...Ah, I see.”

The workers didn’t quite understand, but they nodded along as if they did.

After all, how would they know about products that only nobles used?

Typically, nobles extracted beneficial components from herbs and fruits to apply to their skin, or they used steam treatments on their faces.

The wealthier families even used divine powers or magic.

But for the most part, the results weren’t significant.

With consistent use, their skin would improve, but given the money and time invested, the results couldn’t really be considered remarkable.

However, this product was different. The worse the skin, the more dramatic and rapid the results.

“Huhu, this will soon be a must-have item for nobles.”

Ghislain smiled confidently.

Nobles, regardless of age or gender, tended to obsess over their appearance.

Clear skin was also a symbol of wealth, so if something was known to have even a slight beauty-enhancing effect, it was only a matter of time before it became a trend.

In his past life, this product had swept across the continent, bringing enormous wealth to the Delfine Duchy.

“I should run some tests.”

From his own experience, it seemed identical to what he had seen in his past life.

Still, he needed to confirm if it was truly effective.

“Belinda would probably give the best evaluation.”

Belinda subtly liked to adorn herself.

She had a keen interest in skin care, and for a head maid working in a poor estate in the North, her skin was unusually fair and smooth.

Ghislain filled a low, wide glass bottle with the essence and went to find Belinda.

“Belinda, take this. Try applying it to your face.”

“What is this?”

“It’s a cosmetic, a skincare product. It’s very good for your skin.”

“Oh my, really? Where did you buy this? These things are extremely expensive... Did you buy it just for me? Which brand is it?”

Belinda’s eyes widened, and she fired off a barrage of questions.

Ghislain might have seemed like he spent money freely, but he was extremely frugal when it came to luxury items.

He dressed casually and rarely bothered to accessorize himself.

But had he really bought such an expensive cosmetic? And one that only nobles would use?

‘Looks like all the effort I put into raising him paid off...’

Belinda, who had been a bit moved, quickly had her mood deflate after hearing what Ghislain said next.

“I made this myself.”

“......”

Ghislain stood there, confident, as if he didn’t see what the problem was.

Belinda narrowed her eyes and glared at him.

“Young master, don’t you know you can’t just use any kind of cosmetic?”

“I know. That’s why I made something that really works.”

“I never taught you how to make cosmetics, so where did you even learn this?”

Belinda had been teaching Ghislain since he was a child.

But she had never once taught him about alchemy or handling herbal ingredients.

So, who would believe it if he suddenly showed up claiming to have made a cosmetic?

“You do realize that if you apply just anything and your skin ends up ruined, there’s no going back, right?”

‘There’s no way this will sell.’

A lord with no knowledge of medicine had made it himself—there was no way it would be effective.

Even if it really worked, what noble would trust a cosmetic from some obscure, backwater estate?

No matter how he looked at it, it was bound to fail.

Claude hid his glee at the prospect of canceling his slave contract and put on a feigned, pitiful expression.

“Are you trying to make my face full of pockmarks? So I can’t leave the office and will have to work all the time? I mean, I’m already a slave, do you really have to go that far?”

“I’m telling you, it really works! Don’t you believe me? I succeeded with farming, didn’t I?”

“That’s a separate matter. It’s a completely different field. And it’s not just me; no one’s going to use something like this. Why would they trust it?”

Ghislain raised an eyebrow at Claude’s provocative tone.

“Oh, yeah? How about a bet, then? Let’s see if it really works or not.”

“Ah, but I’ve quit gambling... How long are we talking?”

“Like I said last time, 20 years. But if I lose, I’ll cut it down to 10 years and throw in an extra 5,000 gold.”

“Hmm...”

Claude hesitated for a moment.

It was obviously a scam, but the stakes were high, and it made him a bit nervous.

‘I need to lessen the burden a bit.’

“Alright, just wait a moment.”

“What do I need to wait for?”

“I’m going to bring someone to join the bet with me.”

Claude quickly went to find Alfoi.

As soon as Alfoi saw him, he frowned. The resentment from the losses he’d incurred because of Claude’s bets hadn’t faded yet.

But Claude brushed off the fierce glare with ease. After a few rounds of butting heads, Alfoi had become rather manageable.

“What is it? Why are you here?”

“I have a great idea. Wanna hear it?”

“Get lost, I’m not listening to you.”

“Oh, come on, just hear me out. A great opportunity has come up. A chance to escape from slavery.”

“Escape from... slavery? A good opportunity?”

“Yeah, the lord’s been making a big deal about some specialty product, so he decided to make cosmetics himself...”

Claude eagerly shared what he knew and his speculations to persuade Alfoi.

“The Magic Towers have tried this before, right?”

“...Yeah, they did.”

Since magic research required a lot of money, the towers often engaged in various business ventures. Naturally, many of them had tried to produce cosmetics as well. It was a field where, if successful, they could rake in huge profits.

But none of them had managed to achieve any notable results. The fact that even the Magic Towers failed suggested how difficult it was to make effective cosmetics.

Claude’s silver tongue worked its magic.

“How did it go at the Magic Towers? Did they manage to make anything usable?”

“Even the Tower Master, a 6th-circle mage, couldn’t make any cosmetics. He did manage to make some high-quality soap, though.”

“Well, our lord claims he made something that even those brilliant mages and alchemists couldn’t. Do you think that’s possible?”

Alfoi shook his head.

“Making it alone is absolutely impossible. He must’ve had help from someone, right?”

“Who would he have gotten help from? If someone had that kind of skill, they’d have gone to someone with more money and power than our lord.”

“...”

“So, what do you think? Want to take another shot at life?”

“I quit gambling...”

Claude looked down at Alfoi with disdain, snorting.

“Quit? You gambled once and now you think you’ve quit? Gambling isn’t about quitting, it’s about holding back. When the opportunity comes, you bet again. That’s life.”

“Hmm...”

Alfoi pondered for a moment before nodding with a determined look in his eyes.

“Fine, this time I’ll really trust you.”

“Don’t trust me, trust yourself. Trust the knowledge and experience you’ve built up until now. You’re the heir of the Magic Tower, and the best mage in this estate. You’re always the best, bro.”

Claude lightly punched Alfoi in the chest.

Feeling a sudden warmth swell in his heart, Alfoi nodded with a flushed face.

“Yeah, I’m Alfoi. A man who never gives up.”

For a conversation between gamblers, it was rather grandiose.

But the mages around them felt the fiery camaraderie and passion between the two men.

“Let us join! Let’s pool our strength together!”

“Alright, let’s all go! This time, we’ll completely shatter the lord’s pretentiousness. We’re going to win!”

With determined faces, Claude and twenty-six mages marched off.

“...Everyone’s out of their minds...”

Wendy, who had been watching the whole scene from start to finish while guarding Claude, could only shake her head in dismay.