Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke

Chapter 18 18 The Shark's Trap

His first test? The Black Shark himself.

Leaving Hans behind, William ascended to the third floor.

Unlike the rowdy first level, this space was a clear cut above—the decor was lavish, the atmosphere refined.

As he stepped into the private gambling chamber, three men seated around a table turned to look at him.

"Huh? A new face?"

"He's too young."

"Hugo, where'd you drag this brat from?"

"Mind your words," Hugo said smoothly. "This is William Hern, third son of Duke Balzac."

The three men visibly tensed.

"Ah! Our apologies, Young Master!"

They hastily stood and bowed, stumbling over themselves to introduce themselves.

Two were supposedly heirs to prominent merchant guilds, and the third claimed to be the second son of a viscount's house.

William scoffed internally.

'Bullshit. They didn't even bother making the cover story believable.'

This wasn't the capital, where extravagant playboys wasted their days away in vice. This was a backwater region. If these men were truly heirs to noble and merchant families, they would have far better places to indulge themselves.

No, they were clearly Hugo's men, disguised to play their roles.

They must have assumed William was just another ignorant noble brat—too inexperienced to see through the ruse.

Suppressing a smirk, William played along and took a seat.

"Well then," one of the so-called 'merchants' said, rubbing his hands together. "Since we have a new player, let's start fresh."

"As usual, I will serve as the dealer," Hugo added, shuffling the cards. But before distributing them, he flicked his wrist—sending a faint ripple of magic through the air.

It was subtle, but undeniable.

A suppression spell.

"Let's ensure this remains a fair game, shall we?" Hugo said with a sharp grin.

'So, he noticed.'

William had been using a subtle mix of mana and sleight of hand to dominate the lower-level tables. It worked perfectly against ordinary players who had no way of sensing magical traces.

But against those who could detect mana circulation, it was useless.

Feigning surprise, William widened his eyes. "You mean... magic was being used?"

Hugo's smile widened in satisfaction. "No need to worry, Young Master. Everything is fair now. Let's begin."

The moment William finished speaking, Hugo froze in place.

It felt as if an icicle had been driven straight into his spine.

His entire body stiffened, and even breathing felt like an impossible task.

William watched his reaction with a cold smile.

"What's wrong? Smile. You were laughing just fine a moment ago."

"...."

"It's such a joyous occasion, after all. You've successfully burdened the duke's son with a mountain of gambling debt. You must have already planned when and how to use it against me, haven't you?"

Hugo inhaled sharply, trying to say something—anything—but the words wouldn't come.

The breath he had intended to exhale caught in his throat, clogging his airway like a lump of lead.

His rational mind screamed at him to come up with an excuse, but his instincts roared back with an urgent warning:

Say the wrong thing, and he'd be walking straight to the executioner's block.

Forcing his panic down, Hugo barely managed to utter a single word.

"Young Master..."

"Yes?"

"This... this is a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding?"

William let out a short chuckle before reclining lazily in his chair.

For a brief moment, he seemed lost in thought. Then, his voice turned sharp.

"And what do you think will happen once you weasel your way out of this moment? You have a secret escape route prepared, don't you? You must believe you can still slip away."

"...!"

"I'll admit, I was impressed by the mechanism hidden in your chair. It's quite the clever piece of work. Who designed it for you?"

"How—how do you know about that?!"

Hugo's heart nearly stopped.

The hidden mechanism—the one that would trigger a secret passage when the chair's armrest was turned a certain way—was a secret known only to him.

Even his most trusted men were unaware of it.

How in the hell had this noble brat uncovered something so well-guarded?

William barely suppressed a smirk at Hugo's ghostly pale face.

'How do I know? Because I was the one who discovered it when I came to arrest you.'

Two years from now, Hugo's drug operation would be exposed.