I’m Quitting Everything and Selling Cola

Chapter 147

Chapter 147. The Party (3)

Serena and Brigitte had each prepared the very best they could for Penelope.

Brigitte had made the Three-tiered Strawberry Cake on the back of an enormous amount of trial and error. If there was a problem, it was simply that she had gone a little overboard with enthusiasm and made just a few too many attempts.

"Good grief, why on earth is there so much cake in the house……."

Even Penelope, who had been standing there with her mouth hanging open while forgetting about the paper cracker fragments landing on her head, could see it at a glance.

Cake Layers of every possible height had taken over not just the kitchen but the living room as well. Piping bags of Fresh Cream in every colour, and scattered strawberry hulls strewn all about.

The end result of all that was the towering Three-tiered Cake standing as tall as Brigitte's waist.

"I just, got a bit carried away making them, ehehe."

Brigitte laughed sheepishly, flour smudged on her cheek.

"Lady Penelope, now isn't the time for that. It's even more impressive inside, you know?"

"Hm? Oh, r-right. Yes."

The fact that Penelope, who was rarely flustered by anything, was reacting like this — Serena was absolutely delighted.

She grabbed the still-dazed Penelope by the wrist and led her toward the dining room where the main event had been prepared.

"Ta-daaa!"

The room had been transformed…… into a party room brimming with Serena's personal taste. Rainbow-coloured lights spun dazzlingly from the ceiling, and little soap bubbles came gurgling out. Dazzling fairy lights glittered everywhere.

"If you press this……."

Serena pressed a button at her feet.

Bang! Pow pow bang!

Firecrackers burst, and multicoloured Confetti exploded out with them.

"Hmm."

Jurgen discreetly glanced at Penelope's reaction. When it came to the party room, Serena had stepped forward so insistently with 'Leave it all to me!' that he had handed it over to her entirely.

And indeed, Serena had demonstrated a variety of techniques worthy of her confidence. She had built a jukebox capable of playing all manner of songs, lighting that changed its patterns at set intervals, and even a soap bubble machine.

The problem was that Serena was, to her very core, an engineer through and through. Which was to say…… it felt slightly less like a party room and more like computer LED lighting, aesthetically speaking.

Still, effort was effort. Everyone watched Penelope with expectant eyes.

Penelope's reaction was:

"A war? This is the war?"

Penelope poked Jurgen in the ribs.

"I was genuinely startled for a moment there. Ha, honestly."

Penelope sat down and crossed her legs. Her reaction was thoroughly nonplussed.

"Brigitte, Serena — same goes for you. Why are you wasting your time on pointless things like this?"

Penelope rattled off words like a machine gun. Her tone was sharp, but Serena and Brigitte were both grinning ear to ear.

"She's embarrassed."

"I rather thought she might be."

"I am not!"

"You are, though."

"I said I'm not!"

They had long since figured out Penelope's nature, after all. She was someone who could never be straightforward on the outside, no matter what. All that was needed was for everyone to tease her with their knowing smiles.

"What I mean is…… of course I had forgotten it was my birthday, that's true. And it's not as though I'm completely ungrateful that you did all this. But even so, thinking about where Y&P Trading Company stands right now, we don't have the luxury to be doing this sort of thing. The effort going into this would be better spent on developing new products, or……."

Penelope sat with her arms folded and began muttering something at length. In that moment, Brigitte and Serena shot a glance at Jurgen and urged him on.

'The gift.'

Serena mouthed it silently. They had each prepared small personal gifts of their own, but it had been decided that Jurgen would present the gift on everyone's behalf.

Under the wordless pressure, Jurgen genuinely wrestled with himself.

Aiden had advised him, and he had prepared something on that basis. But whether it was truly the right choice — that he still wasn't sure about.

'Quickly!'

Jurgen quietly slipped sideways out of the room. A brief preparation was needed for the surprise.

"This really isn't the time to be idling about like this. The Order business only just wrapped up, and Royal Kitchen has barely gotten started. And for all we know, elder sister Clarisse could stab us in the back at any moment……."

Throughout all of this, Penelope was still sitting with her head turned away, rattling on like a repeating rifle.

'Jurgen must have his work cut out for him.'

'He really does.'

Serena and Brigitte reached an understanding in an instant. But needless to say, Penelope was secretly overjoyed on the inside.

Of course she was. She couldn't even remember the last time someone had fussed over her like this.

Her chest was ticklish, her face felt hot. Penelope, who could maintain a perfect poker face when she put her mind to it thanks to her years in the Social Circles, was barely holding on.

"Ahem, ahem. Anyway. I'll accept the sentiment graciously. Brigitte, Serena — you two tell me your birthdays as well."

"Why should we?"

"Do you really have to ask? Because I'm going to make sure I celebrate them. And Jurgen, you too……."

Having just barely managed to keep herself together, Penelope glanced around and realised.

"Hm? Where did Jurgen go?"

Jurgen, who had been there a moment ago, was gone. In his place came……

"Hmm, I'm right here."

An entirely different person.

Neatly swept-back hair, black locks, and black eyes. A sharp jawline and striking features. Even the perfectly fitted formal attire, dressed as though born to nobility. A figure she had seen only once in her life, yet could never forget.

It was Hanbin's appearance.

"……Oh."

Penelope knew that Jurgen was Hanbin.

And yet she had been managing herself all this time — treating Jurgen as Jurgen, through sheer force of will.

Half of it was a fear that the moment she acknowledged Jurgen as Hanbin, the distance between them would somehow widen. The other half was to keep herself from being overwhelmed by an unbearable awkwardness she couldn't even handle herself.

The important thing to note here was this: Penelope's admiration for Hanbin Ainsworth had not been diluted in the slightest.

When Penelope had been earnestly pursuing Alchemy, what had helped her most was his written works. How many nights had she stayed awake, heart racing, over the philosophy and greatness contained within them?

And now he — that Hanbin Ainsworth — was standing here, in this makeshift and raucous party room, to celebrate her birthday. Not Hanbin wearing Jurgen's face, but Hanbin in his perfect, true form.

"O-oh, hello there……?"

Penelope broke down. A foolish greeting tumbled out of her mouth.

"Why are you being so awkward?"

"No, I'm not, I……. I'm, I'm not being awkward…… honestly……."

The boldness with which she had been poking Jurgen in the ribs and giving him a piece of her mind had vanished entirely. Watching Penelope flounder, not even able to meet his eyes, Hanbin laughed with genuine embarrassment.

"Hmm."

Watching the scene, Serena thought to herself:

This looked exactly like that scene in romance novels — where the pen pal the heroine has been exchanging letters with her whole life (who turns out to be the Crown Prince) reveals his true identity at her birthday party.

"Here, a gift."

"No, I couldn't possibly accept something so grand from……. No wait, that's not what I mean. I'm, I'm fine……."

And yet she was watching the 'gift' in Jurgen's hands out of the corner of her eye.

"Wh-what is it?"

"It is the Palette I used during my time as a professor. The condition is excellent."

Penelope's eyes went wide.

"Wow……."

At first glance it looked something like an oversized cigarette case. The sort of case with a matte black leather that was quietly striking. It wasn't ornate, but the moment it was placed in her hands it had a satisfying weight to it.

"Try pressing it."

"Th-this part?"

Following Hanbin's guidance, she lightly pressed the small groove that was nearly impossible to find — the seam was seamless.

— Shick.

With a low, satisfying sound like air pressure releasing, the Palette opened smoothly. The inner lining was padded in a special black material designed to absorb impact.

And as the crowning touch, on the centre of the inner lid, words engraved in elegant cursive:

Hanbin Ainsworth.

"Is it really all right for me to receive something like this……."

In contrast to Penelope's overwhelmed reaction, Serena and Brigitte were puzzled.

'Serena, is it really okay to give a second-hand gift?'

'I-I'm not sure either…….'

A reasonable reaction.

But for those who understood the ways of Alchemists, this was something to be received rather differently.

A Palette is the case in which delicate Alchemy Catalysts are stored. It is accordingly expensive, and there are cases where a parent passes one down to a child, or a master to a student.

To put it in easy-to-understand terms: It was as though the beloved fountain pen of a genius mathematician one had always admired had been gifted to that mathematician's successor.

"Wow…… wow…… wow……."

Seeing Penelope's delight, Jurgen felt a quiet pride. Even he thought that Aiden had given genuinely good advice, just this once.

"Th-thank you…… I'll treasure it……."

Penelope clutched the gift to her chest.

After that, Hanbin drank the Polymorph Potion once more. It seemed as though things would not proceed properly otherwise. Penelope, who had momentarily broken, settled back to her usual self — save for a faint flush remaining on her cheeks.

"Thank you for the gift. Jurgen."

"It's nothing much."

"It was truly meaningful to me."

"No more being cosy just between the two of you! We should all celebrate together!"

"Wh-what are you on about!"

Serena cut in to tease Penelope. By now she had quite figured out how to handle her.

After that, it was like any other Birthday Party.

"And now for the highlight — blowing out the candles!"

"Fwoooo!!"

"As expected of Lady Penelope! What tremendous lung capacity!"

The birthday table was laid out, candles stuck into the cake to match her age.

"W-wait a moment. If I'm the one taking the photo, I won't be in it, will I?"

"What is there to worry about? We take turns, that's all."

Photos were taken with the camera Serena had brought.

They cut the prepared cake and shared it among themselves, chatting away together. Vic, finally getting a proper feast, danced away with delight.

Amidst that warm and boisterous scene, Penelope smiled the whole way through.

Penelope's slump. Ended!

***

Around that same time, Belheim was staying at a safe house in the capital Albion, under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Internal Affairs.

It was far too generous a place to be called a prison. The room was as spacious as a decent noble's manor, and warm meals were provided on time.

That said, it did not mean he was free. Belheim was officially referred to as a witness, but in reality he was a prisoner who had cooperated with the Order and saved only his life through a Judicial Transaction.

He had also drifted permanently away from the path to success he had been racing along until now.

Even so, Belheim was quite satisfied with all of it.

He had succeeded in protecting the only two things that had truly mattered.

His fiancée Silvia had been freed from the Order's dreadful curse, and he himself had avoided the worst possible ending — mounting the Scaffold for treason. In exchange for becoming Hanbin's perfectly controlled chess piece — that was a cost he was willing to bear gladly.

"Something to be grateful for."

It was also a form of mercy, in its way, that Hanbin had extended.

As long as he was alive. There was opportunity. By agreeing to the Judicial Transaction and cutting off the Order's financial lifelines, he would spend the remaining time preparing for his comeback.

"Inmate seventeen. You have a visitor."

The flat voice of the guard. Belheim calmly set down the book he had been reading and rose.

In the reception room, a woman was already seated. Belheim offered a calculated business smile and bowed his head politely.

"I have heard a great deal about you. Gideon Belheim."

His uniform without a single crease. Hair combed back as neatly as a document. And those transparent eyes from which no emotion could be read.

"A pleasure. Mr. Belheim. Lily Fontaine. Acting Minister of Internal Affairs."

Without lifting her eyes from her documents, Lily offered a perfunctory greeting.