A brave man may not live, but he cannot die

Chapter 296 Reeve Branson

"This is the first time I've brought a gift."

Quinn whispered to Ike.

“Even a country bumpkin like me knows that bringing a small gift when visiting someone’s home is a basic social etiquette in the Southern Continent.” Ike asked doubtfully, “Then when the Branson family’s servants opened the door for you, what did you hand to the butler? Wouldn’t it be awkward to have your hands empty?”

“Uh, I’m not going through this door.” Quinn looked at the tightly closed wrought iron gate in the shape of a bauhinia flower. It was a small door next to the main gate of Branson Manor, and one had to wait to be announced before entering.

"Not using this door?"

“My Chocobo can drive right up to his door. I’ve never carried anything with me, but I always take food and things with me when I leave. Last time I even packed a black and gold snowflake ham from their kitchen. It would be great for making pizza.”

"Greetings, Mr. Grindelwald," Ike said with a straight face.

Quinn picked up the drinks in his hand and said, "I'm not one to take advantage of others. You said you wanted to prepare a gift, so I did. I promise I won't embarrass you, boss."

"How much?" Ike asked curiously.

Quinn has taken over ten thousand pounds from him. That would make him a big shot in the East. Even if he didn't own a Saint-Viven winery or a noble cellar, he would at least have some brand and vintage in the things he drinks and uses.

Quinn held up five fingers.

"Five gold pounds?"

Ike nodded slightly, thinking that it was acceptable. Although this kind of wine would never be taken out again once it was thrown into the Branson family's wine cellar, and would only be used to reward servants rather than the master to drink, at least it was a wine at this price point that was respectable.

"Five gold pounds?" Quinn's expression was one of accusation, questioning what kind of family was drinking ten thousand pounds worth of liquor. "Five pence, a takeout juice from the Demar tavern. My girlfriend loves that—"

"Damn!" Ike thought to himself, "This guy is amazing." His face twitched as he lowered his voice and said, "Just throw it away already. It's better to be empty-handed than to be humiliated like this."

"Hey boss, don't worry, the bottle's no slouch. I picked it out of that old drunkard's trash can, washed it, and I guarantee it'll make you look good."

Just as the two were arguing, a tall, handsome young man arrived at the door with a servant. After the servant opened the door, he bowed with an air of elegance, saying, "Welcome, Mr. Carpenter. My brother has heard about what you've done this week, and he highly approves of it. He's already waiting for you in the reception room."

Ike's eyes flickered slightly as he looked at the boy's pink hair and thought to himself that this was a good start.

He certainly wouldn't ignore the young man before him, treating him like a butler or servant. This was a sign that Elon was taking him seriously. He retorted in a somewhat informal, teasing tone, "I thought the Branson family only had one young talent, Mr. Senator. What's your name?"

“Lucas Branson.” Lucas nodded to Shelby behind Elon. The bespectacled, middle-aged man, who didn’t quite look like a gangster, bowed and scraped nervously, which was quite befitting of his status.

The two followed Lucas toward the manor.

The main road of the manor beneath his feet was made of marble carved from the Hengduan Mountains of the Western Continent and transported across the sea. The magnificent and luxurious patterns were perfectly matched, like snow falling in the north wind without a single gap. Quinn couldn't understand what kind of rich person would pave marble in the open air as a road. Wouldn't they be afraid of slipping after it rains?
But the thought of being able to take a carriage right outside the mansion made the worry disappear.

His gaze drifted discreetly to the garden beside him. Ankua's assessment was indeed correct; compared to Amamiya Nene's royal palace, this place was at best a nouveau riche's residence.

Without the welcoming servants lining the path, the flowerbeds behind the two rows of fir trees seemed somewhat out of place. The gardens of the neighboring royal palace were characterized by restraint and a focus on naturalness; despite being located in the heart of the bustling city, stepping into them felt like entering a forest. The selection of plants was extremely restrained, emphasizing simplicity and naturalness, yet exuding grandeur. In contrast, Branson's garden lacked this grandeur. Regardless of harmony, it planted whatever was expensive, displaying the extravagant luxury of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, appearing somewhat superficial in comparison.

Quinn wasn't there for a spring outing, and he had no interest in how the Branson family had managed to amass such wealth in just a few decades.

He was looking left and right because he was observing Chaldie, who was watering the flowers deep inside the garden.

The man beside Xia Dai'er watched her kindly, occasionally saying something.

Rie Branson.

Elon was practically a carbon copy of him; the man, nearing fifty, showed no signs of aging except for a few wrinkles around his eyes. He was remarkably robust, no wonder he had managed to win over the earl's daughter in his youth. Yet, he didn't look like someone who had been bedridden for a long time.

On Thursday, he told Chaldale about playing Reeve. Although things were still undecided, he still instructed Chaldale not to reveal his disguise and to pretend she had never seen him before.

Since they weren't far from the door, Xia Dai'er noticed him, but their eyes met briefly before looking away.

The girl has participated in numerous honey trap scams, so her acting skills are beyond question.

But just two days ago, Chaldale hadn't seen her father for almost a year.

Quinn gently pushed up his glasses and silently activated the Demon King's Eye.

The world instantly faded, transforming into a transparent picture constructed from monotonous gray and white lines.

Against this backdrop of cool tones, several streams of mana flow stand out clearly. Buried three meters underground, these are all arcane arrays deployed at Branson Manor. The purple streams flow across the ground and through hidden corners and eaves, forming patches, used to detect intruders and issue alarms; the white streams flow into the outer walls, particularly active at the top of the railings, likely a lightning-based defensive array; the blue streams run directly through the manor, like an air conditioner, used to generate cool air to control the indoor temperature.
Compared to the marble paving roads and the exotic plants collected from all over the world, these unassuming arcane pathways are the truly expensive things. The magic crystals consumed by them daily are enough to buy a pretty white female slave.

Within the Demon King's Eye, Quinn found nothing unusual about Reeve.

If I had to say something, it would be that the lines in his Demon King's Eye are harder to observe than others, as faint as if they've been erased with an eraser.

He blinked, and his vision returned to normal. After months of training, he could now control the Demon King's Eye with ease, as smooth as Dove chocolate.

"This clump of glass vines was specially brought from the Western Continent by my aunt. To maintain the same temperature as the Western Continent, the fences the vines climb are all arcane artifacts from the Clock Tower, ensuring constant temperature and humidity—you see, the sunlight shines through, and the shadows are like glass. You're from the Western Continent, so you're certainly familiar with this, aren't you?"

Never letting the conversation go cold, always having something to talk about with anyone, and keeping the conversation harmonious and natural—this is a social skill that the children of the wealthy must learn, and Lucas has been very well trained in this area.

Unfortunately, in Ike's opinion, he was still a bit naive and hadn't quite managed to suppress his deep-seated prejudice against people from the Western Continent.

You're definitely familiar with this, right?

This little brat is like someone showing off that their family owns a mountain of gold, and then saying to the dusty miner with a friendly smile, "You must be familiar with this."

When he was a child, he was struggling to survive even until the next day amidst the corpses on the battlefield. Where would he find these chiefs' playthings?
“Of course.” Ike smiled elegantly, praising it as if meeting an old friend in a foreign land. “This is much thicker than the glass vines I’ve seen in the Western Continent. It seems to have been well taken care of here. Is your interest in studying plants? Those superficial second-generation rich kids wouldn’t know that growing glass vines requires the right temperature and water.”

"Heh, I just read a lot of books and sometimes consult the gardener," Lucas said with a slightly smug smile, being a young man after all.

He accepted the other party's goodwill with a few words, even complimenting their family background, and then subtly returned the compliment. Quinn listened from behind, having previously heard that Ike, a man from the Western Continent, could thrive in the elite circles of Axwell, and today he had witnessed it firsthand.

If this guy is a hero, then he must have been a top-tier Sandman in his past life.

He doesn't need to bother participating in the conversation; he can just play the role of a taciturn gangster.

"The shadow of the glass vine changes color in winter, sparkling like diamonds. I think that might be related to the changing trajectory of the sun god."

Quinn, who was listening in, suddenly brightened up.

A shadow. He recalled the words of a professor in the Demon Clan's Defense Department class:
"Besides the halo above their heads, demons have another characteristic—they don't cast shadows. So be careful, shadow-based arcane spells are rarely effective against demons; whether it's a curse or control, try to target their bodies or the halo above their heads."

Quinn, who was listening in, was thinking at the time.

Demons clearly have shadows; he distinctly remembered that when he walked with the Demon King in that silent corridor filled with gray mist, the Demon King's shadow was very long.

"Of course, not everything without a shadow is a demon; it must be observed in conjunction with the aura. The shadow identification method is not only applicable to demons, but also highly effective in identifying many non-human beings or evil spirits. You must know that beings not permitted by the Sun God cannot freely walk under the sunlight—"

"Does it cast a shadow? Does it respond to prayers? Does the holy water of the Vatican or the White Church produce any unnatural disturbances when mana flows? And how does it react to common mediums such as mirrors, mercury, cinnabar, and ephedrine wax?"

Quinn looked at the father and daughter watering flowers not far away.

Servants were holding umbrellas for them, blocking out the sunlight completely.

Quinn thought to himself, "No wonder she's so pale," and then yelled, "Ouch—!!"

He tilted his body and faked a fall.

In his previous life, he was a top-level Brazilian, and Neymar learned to roll three and a half times on the grass from him.

Hearing the male servant's suppressed laughter, Ike really wanted to pretend he hadn't heard anything and walk away. It was one thing to bring orange juice in a bottle as a souvenir, but to trip and fall flat on his face while walking was another matter.
With such a prestigious underling, what time do you go home?
However, considering that Quinn was likely a superhuman, he knew that Quinn's throw was intentional. So he and a bewildered Lucas turned around to see what Quinn was up to.

“Damn, this marble is so slippery,” Quinn cursed rudely.

Then, he gasped for air, looking very pained, and groaned for a long time before finally getting up.

"Can you still get up?"

Lucas tried to help him up, but unexpectedly, a snow-white hand reached out from the side to support him on the other side; it was Chaldie, who had run over breathlessly.

"Are you alright?" the girl asked anxiously.

Lucas, standing to the side, stared wide-eyed. Xia Dai'er's concern was genuine; rather, her eyes were overflowing with heartache. She placed her hands firmly on the burly gangster's back, her firm, white palms pressed together, her warm, rapid breaths almost touching his face.

For a moment, Lucas wondered if he should slip and fall too. He accidentally slipped and fell in the bathroom, injuring his head. He was then immediately taken to the hospital by his cousin.
Wow, a champion's life.

"Thank you, thank you, I'm alright." Quinn got up, looked at Chaldale, and said sincerely, "Beautiful lady, you are such a kind-hearted person."

Xia Dai'er blushed slightly; the two had already passed the ambiguous stage where a single compliment would make her blush. But Quinn always loved to praise her in bed, especially after the crucial moment. His tireless praise in her ear felt like taking private sweet nothings out into the open, and the shy young lady couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed.

"No, no, I didn't." She said this subconsciously with a touch of arrogance.

Lucas was thinking, "What's with this reaction? Why are you blushing?"
Unexpectedly, Quinn turned around and said to him in a serious tone, "You too, you're a pretty good guy."

Lucas's eye twitched. "I helped you up and this is the response you get?"
Just then, a man with a duck-tail beard, a commanding presence, and dressed in the finest silk walked over carrying a showerhead. It was none other than Reeve, the father whom Xia Dai'er had abandoned.

"Dair, what's the matter that's so urgent?" His voice was authoritative yet tinged with affection.

“It’s nothing,” Chaldale said, regaining her composure. Pointing at Quinn, she said, “This gentleman fell down, so I’ll help him up.”

"Uncle, good afternoon. It's so good to see you looking so energetic," Lucas greeted Reeve with utmost respect.

"Oh, you're Lugal's son?"

Reeve's attitude carried a perfectly measured surprise, befitting someone who had been bedridden for over a year and was now witnessing the growth of their younger generation.

"You've grown so much, not bad. Where's your father?"

“He works at the airport. I can notify him to come back immediately if you wish.”

Quinn listened from the side.

It sounds like this Reeve only arrived at the house this morning?

Did you do this just so I could take a look?
“No need. I have lunch with Dale.” He handed the water bottle to his daughter with his hand adorned with a sapphire thumb ring; the gemstone shone brilliantly in the sunlight. “A lady shouldn’t be so impulsive.”

"Hehe." Xia Dai'er scratched her head and chuckled.

Quinn's gaze fell on the ring; it was made of top-grade glass, so fine it could even be used as a mirror under the right lighting.

"Oh! That's right!" Chaldie's voice suddenly became inexplicably enthusiastic as she said to Lucas, "Brother Lucas, could you introduce me to my father?"

“Of course, of course. This is Elon’s guest, Mr. Ike Carpenter, who does business in Seaville.”

“I run a casino,” Ike added, neither humble nor arrogant, “and I’m here to report on some minor matters for Your Excellency.”

Reeve nodded slightly as a greeting.

"And this is... uh..." Lucas suddenly realized he hadn't asked Ike's underling what his name was yet.

"Me! Shelby!" the fallen strange man suddenly shouted.

Very good, very energetic.

Lucas, speechless, was about to brush him off, but before he could finish his self-introduction:
"I humbly beseech Your Majesty, O God of the Sun—bathing in Your Light, I am filled with awe and trepidation at Your grace. Please bless this beautiful and kind lady! Please bless this wonderful gentleman! Praise be to the Sun!"

Under the sunlight, the young gangster stood at attention with his arms outstretched.

A flash of anger crossed Lucas's eyes, and even with Reeve right beside him, he couldn't help but snap, "Shut up! We, the Branson family, are loyal followers of the goddess. Didn't you see the White Church bell hanging at the door? Is it appropriate to praise the sun here?"

Ike instinctively wanted to step forward and explain, but then he heard a voice in his mind—

“Notice Reeve’s expression; he was in pain when he heard the prayer.”

"No shadow, no reflection."

"He's not human."

(End of this chapter)