Chapter 185
Credit card.
An item most working South Koreans kept in their wallets.
A plastic card—85.6mm wide and 53.98mm long—that let you exchange goods and services in place of cash based on your credit, then pay later.
But Lloyd had never had a credit card.
South Korea.
The banks there.
They never issued him one.
The reason was simple.
‘Why else? Because I was basically a beggar.’
When his parents were alive, he was still young.
Pocket money was enough.
But once he grew up—around the age when people started using cards—his family went bankrupt.
He lost his parents in an instant and ended up living in a cheap boarding house.
He barely scraped by, working himself to the bone at construction sites just to cover living expenses.
A credit card was out of the question.
No bank would give him one.
‘That’s why the only cards I ever had were a debit card and a transportation card.’
The memories dragged up a familiar bitterness.
Even just watching TV, looking around—
Other people seemed so relaxed.
Celebrities wore watches worth tens of millions of won like it was nothing.
Even among ordinary people, plenty swiped their cards for millions of won each month.
No—back then, even ordinary people worrying about card bills a little over a million won were enviable to him.
Those ordinary people.
Those ordinary worries.
Even that felt like a dream he could never reach.
‘Of course. A million won a month? That was luxury. I was hungry. At my worst, I had to survive on a single pack of ramen a day.’
There was a time when construction work dried up because of a long rainy season.
That was when he perfected the art of surviving on one pack of ramen a day in the boarding house.
He cooked ramen in the morning.
And ate only the noodles.
Leaving as much broth behind as possible.
That was the key.
If he could resist the urge to gulp down the broth and endure, lunch and dinner would be waiting.
Because he could reuse the broth.
‘At lunch, I’d toss in the boarding house ramen noodles, eat only the noodles again. At dinner, I’d put the boarding house rice into it and eat it. One pack of ramen, one full day.’
There was also the method of dumping in a lot of rice, cracking in an egg, and pouring in cooking oil to make a kind of fried rice.
The nutrition was garbage, but it was the most filling meal.
The grease slowed digestion, so the fullness lasted longer.
‘The downside was that half-digested heaviness all evening, but it beat being hungry and aching all night.’
Remembering those days stirred a surge of indignation.
But that was all behind him now.
The past where he couldn’t even have a credit card was distant.
Because things were different now.
Why?
“Could that golden plaque be… the Padashar bestowed by the great and almighty Sultan?”
“Yes, that’s right. Fortunately, you recognized it at a glance.”
“Of course…”
Gulp.
The restaurant owner’s Adam’s apple bobbed.
Under puffy, fleshy eyelids, his eyes locked onto the golden plaque.
It was real.
It had to be.
That emblem engraved in the center—
No one could copy it.
At least not within land where the Sultan’s authority reached.
There, it was absolute law.
“So, what do you wish to obtain with the Padashar, sir?”
The owner asked.
Lloyd smiled.
“Everything.”
“Yes?”
“I want every menu item in this restaurant. Use all the ingredients.”
“What does that mean…?”
“Don’t think about the consequences. Just fry and stir. Consider it a closed day. Today, you empty your storeroom.”
“You’re saying… you want me to use every ingredient we have and serve all of it?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
Lloyd’s smile brightened.
The owner’s forehead slicked with sweat.
“But as you can see, this is not an ordinary restaurant. Only the wealthiest in Ahinsa come here…”
“That’s why I came. With the Padashar of the great and almighty Sultan.”
Flutter.
Lloyd waved the golden plaque—Padashar—before the man’s eyes.
The owner’s gaze trembled.
“Ah… understood.”
The Padashar’s authority could be trusted.
Because in the end, the Sultan would pay.
Even if the ingredients were wiped out.
Even if the cost soared to a number ordinary people couldn’t imagine.
The Sultan would cover it all.
Which meant this was an opportunity.
A golden chance to post the best single-day sales since opening.
“Please wait a moment. No—allow me to escort you personally. This way.”
The owner dismissed his staff and led Lloyd himself to the most luxurious private room.
His eyes smiled the way someone smiled at a gold nugget.
“Then shall I serve all the dishes you ordered here?”
“No.”
Lloyd shook his head, still calm.
“Serve the food to everyone in the restaurant right now.”
“…Yes?”
“I’m not a monster. How would I eat all that alone? Bring me one set here. As I said, give the rest to the other guests.”
“But then…”
“Is there a reason it can’t be done?”
“…”
No.
It was an absurd, unconventional waste of money—but there was no rule saying it couldn’t be done.
“I understand.”
The owner rushed to the kitchen and urged the chef and cooks.
Soon, dish after dish began to arrive.
Ahinsa—the largest trading port on the southeastern coast of the continent, and the capital of the Sultanate.
A top-tier restaurant at the top of such a city didn’t play around.
The spread was a feast fit for royalty.
Rare dishes were lined up in succession.
Lobster was merely the baseline.
Lamb marinated and aged in special wine for fifty years.
Rare jellyfish caught only in the distant Arctic Ocean.
Cheondan mushrooms that grew only in the deepest caves.
Even desserts fried in oil extracted from flowers that bloomed once every thirty years.
Lloyd toyed with fork and knife, listening to the chef’s attentive explanations.
And thought.
‘Ah. I want soybean paste stew.’
Maybe his tastes were too cheap.
They called it incredible food, but when he ate it, he didn’t feel much beyond, yes, it tastes good.
Still, it was delicious.
And he was fuller than expected.
He patted his slightly swollen upper abdomen and left the private room.
Then he walked through the restaurant with an easy, confident stride.
Murmurs rose on all sides.
Eyes poured in from everywhere.
Of course they did.
This was considered the finest luxury restaurant in the capital.
And Lloyd was the first customer in its history to wipe out all the ingredients in one night.
“Everyone.”
Lloyd’s clear voice echoed through the spacious, opulent hall.
“Today, I am honored and delighted to provide you all with a meal. But I’m sure you’re wondering. Why is someone with no acquaintance with any of you buying such expensive food for everyone?”
Heads nodded here and there.
They had been wondering.
What reason could there be?
Was this foreigner insane?
No amount of imagination could supply an answer.
Lloyd’s lips curled slightly.
“I have only one thing to say. May the glory of the great and almighty Sultan be everywhere! That’s right. The food you eat today—I’m not paying for it. The Sultan is treating you all. No, the Sultan is buying it.”
At some point, the golden plaque—Padashar—was in his hand again.
Eyes widened across the room.
“You all know what this is, yes? It is the Padashar bestowed by the great and almighty Sultan. Every bite you take today, every sip of alcohol—everything contains the grace and consideration of the great and almighty Sultan. So let us shout.”
Lloyd raised Padashar high and roared.
“Long live the Sultan!”
“…Long live the Sultan!”
The wealthy merchants and local rulers filling the restaurant echoed back, bewildered but loud.
Lloyd’s cheer surged higher.
“Long live the gracious and benevolent Sultan!”
“Long live!”
“Then, wishing for the Sultan’s infinite glory—shall we burn the night away together?”
“Long, long live!”
The heat inside the restaurant flared.
With the finest food and alcohol flowing without limit.
Musicians and entertainers were summoned as well.
They, too, were thrilled by the generous pay guaranteed by Padashar.
They played and performed with everything they had.
And the restaurant that had been the finest in Ahinsa transformed into a luxurious club overnight.
Lloyd sat at the center of that transcendent waste.
‘Well, it’s not my money.’
So this was what it felt like to swipe an unlimited VIP card.
And it wasn’t even the end.
The number of uses was unlimited.
They said he’d have to wait at least six months to meet the Sultan?
Lloyd was genuinely delighted.
When opportunities like this came, you seized them.
At least six months.
Until then, Lloyd intended to live loudly and shamelessly—on unlimited overconsumption.
‘This is the life of luxury!’
Lloyd shouted even louder.
“Thank you sincerely, Sultan!”
“Thank you!”
The guests who had already been there.
Those who heard the rumor and flooded in.
Everyone got swept up in the luxurious fever and roared.
“Sultan! Sultan! Great Sultan! Praise!”
“Praise!”
As the night deepened, the heat of the money-wasting party burned hotter still.
♣
Several days passed.
And the palace of Ahinsa grew busy.
To be precise, the heart of a high-ranking palace official began to sink.
“Wh… what is this?”
“This is the Padashar usage statement of the Magentano envoy.”
The lower-ranking official answered.
The high-ranking official’s eyes trembled as he stared at the statement.
“Is there… a mistake in this?”
It looked like one or two zeros had been added by accident.
That was his small, desperate hope.
It couldn’t be real.
Only a few days ago, he had handed Padashar to the envoys to humiliate them.
“But in just a few days, they spent this enormous amount? That envoy?”
He couldn’t believe it.
But the answer that came back was even worse.
“The amount is correct. And… it is not the total used by the entire envoy.”
“Then what is it?”
“It is the statement for Padashar usage by a single attendant.”
“…What?”
Not several people.
One person.
This much money?
The official’s mouth fell open.
The subordinate continued, voice trembling.
“At first, I couldn’t believe it either. So I checked twice, three times. And…”
“And?”
“It turns out one man—an attendant named Lloyd Frontera—used Padashar everywhere. He went to every luxury restaurant and ordered until the kitchens ran out of ingredients. He ordered until the alcohol storerooms were depleted.”
“You’re saying he ate and drank all that alone?”
“No. He didn’t drink any alcohol. He gave the food to other people in the restaurants.”
“To other people?”
“Yes. He said it was food bought by the Sultan and led everyone to shout long live the Sultan.”
“Huh, huh, huh?”
“That isn’t all. He bought up all the silk in the capital. It was also discovered that he hired a merchant ship and transported the entire load to the North Sea.”
“Silk? A merchant ship to the North Sea?”
“The destination is the port of Cremo in the Magentano Kingdom.”
“….”
“Perhaps he intends to send it onward to Frontera Territory via the port of Cremo…”
“….”
“Since then, he has held lavish parties every night. Not just silk—porcelain, jewels, rare goods of every kind—everything is being bought up with Padashar. And all of it is being shipped to Cremo…”
“You’re saying… he’s exporting it?”
“Yes. Because of that, the remaining palace budget for this year…”
“Don’t tell me.”
“….”
“You’re not telling me the budget is exhausted.”
“I’m sorry.”
“….”
What kind of insane bastard was this?
The high-ranking official’s face went pale.
If the report was true, this was no trivial matter.
Padashar—the symbol of the Sultan’s grace.
Even when he handed it over to the Magentano envoy by order, he never dreamed something like this could happen.
They were envoys of Her Majesty the Queen Alicia Termina Magentano.
So they wouldn’t recklessly consume the Sultan’s “grace.”
Rather, they would take it as humiliation.
He had believed that.
That was normal.
That was common sense. (T/N: Lol, obviously this doesnt work against Lloyd. This chapter always get me even in the manhwa hahahaha. )
That was the natural order of things.
He had never imagined that one crazed attendant would use Padashar so extravagantly—so shamelessly—beyond all reason.
He sprang to his feet.
“Stay here.”
“Yes? Where are you going?”
“I must report this to the Sultan.”
There was no hiding it.
He had to report it before it grew worse.
He had to stop it before it became unmanageable.
The high-ranking official hurried toward the Sultan’s palace.
And that afternoon, the Sultan’s order was issued.
“Bring Lloyd Frontera to the palace.”
Thus, the audience that was supposed to take at least six months was dragged forward—realized in only a few days.
All thanks to Lloyd’s unstoppable waste of money.