My Second Life as a Mafia Tyrant

Chapter 2: No Escape

Lying on his familiar bed, Alois kept thinking intently about how he could refuse his father’s offer. If he got involved in the drug business, he would be ruined. That man—Felix Faust—would come to kill him. He had to avoid that at all costs.

Alois was trying to recall how he had failed to refuse the offer in his first life. If he had failed, he just needed to devise a new strategy.

“Ah. Back then…”

Alois finally remembered.

Back then, he had simply thrown a tantrum, insisting he didn’t want to get involved in the drug business.

But Alois’s father had retorted that it was thanks to drug money that he’d been able to pay for his tuition and provide Alois with a life of comfort. It was true that it was Alois’s father who had sent him to study at a prestigious university in the “National Union” and covered everything from his living expenses to his social life.

Alois hadn’t known. He hadn’t known that the money he was using was stained with blood.

But that excuse came too late. So, Alois reluctantly accepted his father’s offer, thinking he could at least help out a little, and transferred from a “National Union” university to the pharmacy school at a “Federation” university.

He was already involved with drug money. Fate is cruel. It never gave Alois a choice from the start. Even if he went back ten years, he couldn’t start over from there.

“No. I can start over.”

It’s true that Alois had unwittingly spent blood-stained money. But he could make it right. He just had to pay it back. If he returned every penny his father had spent on him, the cycle of karma would be broken. That’s how it should work.

It’s true that Alois has unwittingly spent vast sums of money up until now. He can’t recall ever being short on money in his life. Cars, motorcycles, tuition, money to hang out with friends—he received it all from his father. The total amount must be enormous.

Even so, it’s not impossible to pay it back.

Alois had studied pharmacy at a prestigious university in the “National Union,” the most developed nation in the capitalist bloc. And the economy was booming. He could take a research position at a major pharmaceutical company, just as he had dreamed, and use his salary to gradually pay his father back.

Just as a glimmer of hope began to appear, there was a knock on the door.

“Young Master. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine now. I suppose Father is calling for me.”

“Yes. The Master is waiting for you in his study.”

Yes, the study.

It was there that Alois’s father had revealed himself to be a major player in the drug trade.

Alois steeled himself. This time, he would refuse outright.

Guided by Ivo, Alois made his way to his father’s study.

“Master. I’ve brought the young master.”

“Let him in.”

Ivo respectfully opened the door, bowed, and saw Alois inside.

“Alois. I’m glad you’ve come home.”

Alois’s father—Heinrich von Netesheim—said that.

Alois’s father had once had distinctive black hair, but now it was streaked with gray. He had grown old. And with his wife—Alois’s mother—facing the end of her life, he had suddenly begun to fear his own death.

Alois had clearly inherited his father’s genes.

He comes from a family of mixed North and South Elven heritage. His hair isn’t as beautiful as that of the North Elves, nor as dazzlingly silver as that of the South Elves. Instead, he has a pale, in-between shade of black hair and dark skin. His eyes are slanted, giving off an unreadable aura. And his facial muscles are frozen in a deadpan expression.

Alois used this impassive face to win a string of poker games at university.

“I’m sure you’ve heard, but Mom is in critical condition. The doctor says we’ll be lucky if she makes it through tomorrow. I called you out suddenly, but you made it in time.”

“Yes. It’s sad, though.”

“I suppose so.”

There wasn’t a trace of sadness to be seen on Heinrich’s face.

Was it due to the family’s characteristic lack of expression, or was he sensing something else regarding his wife’s death?

“Alois. There’s something I need to tell you.”

Here it comes. Alois braced himself.

“What is it, Dad?”

“I’ve worked as a federal prosecutor. You know that, don’t you? But a federal prosecutor’s salary isn’t exactly high. So how do you think I managed to come up with the money for your car, your motorcycle, and your study abroad expenses?”

It was the approach he’d expected. The first time around, Alois hadn’t been able to refuse at this point.

“I don’t know.”

It’s drug money. Blood money. That’s what it is, isn’t it?

“I… was running a drug business. I used my position as a federal prosecutor to gather intelligence on investigations and managed to pull it off this far. I built a cartel. The money to support you came from that empire of mine.”

“Then I’ll return it. Every last cent. I don’t think that will erase the sin of using drug money, but it’s better than doing nothing, isn’t it?”

Alois’s quick retort seemed to catch Heinrich off guard. That said, he merely paused; his expression remained impassive. However, the look in his eyes was clearly one of astonishment.

“That is not the issue.”

But Heinrich continued.

“You must inherit the empire. Otherwise, there will be those who take advantage of the empire’s fragmentation to target your life. The empire needs an emperor. And just as it was in the past, the empire’s successor is chosen by bloodline.”

I was hearing this for the first time. It was a story that hadn’t come up even in my first life.

“If you do not inherit the empire, someone else will take possession of its fragments. And that person will wonder, ‘What if the empire’s legitimate successor had been designated?’ In fact, I intend to write in my will that you are to inherit the empire.”

Why would you do such a thing! Alois suppressed the urge to shout.

“Here’s why. There will inevitably be people who try to elevate you as the rightful heir. And in a pride of lions, the first thing a new alpha male does is kill the previous leader’s cubs. I want you to inherit the empire and build the strength to defend yourself.”

There was no way to argue with that.

Alois had thought that if he paid back the drug money, he could remain unconnected to the drug business. But reality wasn’t that simple.

He knew all too well from his first life—the brutality and ambition of those involved in the drug trade. They would do anything to take the emperor’s throne after Heinrich, to make that throne their own.

It would be useless for Alois to flee to the “National Union.” Their reach extends even to the “National Union.” The possibility that Alois might be stabbed by a man with a knife while out for a casual stroll was by no means nonexistent.

Ah. Bastards. Bastards. Bastards!

This way, there was simply no escape.

Alois was overcome with utter despair.