As the group of mages barged into the room with force, Ghislain couldn’t help but smirk in amusement.

“What’s with the group gathering?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“We’ve come to make a bet!” Claude declared confidently. “All of us are betting that your cosmetic product is useless.”

“Hmmm, there are a lot of you…” Ghislain remarked, feigning hesitation. “What are the terms?”

Claude, grinning broadly, stepped forward as their spokesperson. “If we win, you cancel our slave contracts and pay us 2,000 gold coins each. How does that sound?”

“And if you lose?” Ghislain asked with a glint in his eye.

“In that case, each of us will add 10 more years to our contracts.”

Feigning reluctance, Ghislain asked, “What if I refuse to take the bet?”

The moment he said this, Claude and the mages’ eyes lit up. It seemed that for the first time, their reckless lord was showing signs of doubt. That, they believed, was a clear sign that their chances of winning were high.

“You were the one who suggested the bet, Lord. It would be dishonorable to back out now. If you plan to refuse, you should at least reduce our terms by five years each,” Claude challenged, pushing his luck.

Ghislain paused for a moment, seemingly deep in thought, before nodding.

“I only hesitated because I felt bad about adding 10 more years to your contracts, but since you’re all so determined, I’ll accept the bet.”

“Yes!” Claude and the mages celebrated quietly, fists clenched in small, victorious gestures.

“Great!” Claude said with glee. “Now, set the deadline for us.”

Ghislain casually replied, “A month should be enough.”

He felt confident that the product would show visible results in just two weeks, but knowing that skin conditions varied, he generously gave them a full month.

Claude, giddy with excitement, rushed to gather witnesses. He summoned the estate’s retainers, calling in nearly everyone who wasn’t occupied with important tasks. Gillian, who was out inspecting the territory, and Vanessa, who was training, were the only ones absent from the hall.

Of course, Belinda was immediately furious.

“What is this? Another bet? Has everyone lost their minds? How exactly are you going to prove whether a cosmetic works?” she fumed.

Unlike farming, where growth could be visibly observed, skincare was subjective, and there was no clear, objective way to measure the effects. After all, just eating well and getting good sleep could improve someone’s appearance.

Belinda continued, “You’re not going to let them test it, are you? Who knows what tricks they might try!”

Ghislain waved his hand dismissively. “Of course not. Claude and the mages are definitely out of the test. Those guys would smear anything on their faces if it meant winning the bet.”

Although the mages were offended by the remark, none of them could argue. After all, they had indeed been willing to go to extreme measures for the sake of victory.

Still, Belinda wasn’t convinced. She remained furious, her voice trembling with frustration.

“Then who’s going to test it? If even a single pimple appears, those guys will scream victory!”

Ghislain stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, good point. We need someone trustworthy…”

He glanced around the room, but every person in attendance averted their eyes, lowering their heads as if avoiding eye contact would prevent them from being chosen as the test subject. No one was eager to experiment with an unproven product on their face.

“Who should we pick…?” Ghislain murmured, his gaze lingering on the crowd.

He could easily force someone to try it, but that wouldn’t guarantee the bet would go smoothly. If people were too scared to apply the product consistently, it could give Claude and the mages room to claim that the product didn’t work.

No matter how effective the product was, it would need at least a few days of regular application to show results.

“I could make Kaor try it. I’ll give him a break from training for a few days,” Ghislain suggested, looking toward the mercenary.

Kaor, who had been quietly observing the conversation, snorted with defiance. “Real men don’t put that kind of stuff on their face.”

Ghislain raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think I know about how you stick fruit peels on your face every night?”

“That was… That was just an accident while I was eating fruit!” Kaor retorted, flustered.

Even before joining Ghislain’s group, Kaor had occasionally been known to use fruit peels on his face for skincare purposes. His occasional use of fruit peels hadn’t gone unnoticed by those around him.

“Either way, I’m not putting that stuff on. I don’t do that anymore,” Kaor insisted firmly.

Given his history of taking care of his skin, it wasn’t surprising that he refused to put something unfamiliar on his face. Ghislain shrugged, not too bothered by the rejection. He would just find someone else.

“Looks like I’ll have to keep looking for someone to test it. Either way, the bet’s still on, so keep that in mind,” Ghislain announced.

Belinda still fumed, her eyes glaring at Ghislain. “You’re the lord of this territory! How does it look for you to be running around, asking people to test a product because of some silly bet?”

Ghislain tilted his head, confused by her outburst. “No one here wants to do it. If that’s the case, how about you try it, Belinda?”

“I—um… That’s a bit…” Caught off guard, Belinda blushed and quickly looked down to avoid the crowd’s gaze.

‘Ugh, I guess I have no choice. I’ll just pretend to use it and find a way around it,’ Belinda thought.

Feigning confidence, she extended her hand. “Fine. I’ll do it. Hand me a bottle.”

Belinda had no intention of actually using the product. She planned to get plenty of sleep and train her mana diligently during the trial. By the end of the month, she would use mana to tighten her skin temporarily, making it seem as if the product had worked wonders.

However, Claude wasn’t so easily fooled. He quickly interjected, “Wait! The head maid can’t be the one to test it.”

“Why not?” Belinda shot back.

“Her skin’s already in good condition. Sure, there are a few fine lines around her eyes, but—”

“Shut up!” Belinda snapped, her face turning red.

“Anyway, she can’t do it,” Claude insisted. “She’s the type who’d find some way to trick us. We need someone with rougher skin, someone where the results would be obvious.”

Claude, with his keen sense from years of gambling, immediately sensed something suspicious when Belinda suddenly changed her mind. He was convinced she was up to something.

‘That little rat…’ Belinda gritted her teeth, glaring daggers at Claude.

Ghislain nodded in agreement. “Alright, we’ll find someone else. For now, let’s wrap this up. Everyone, go back to your duties.”

With a sigh of relief, Belinda left, and the rest of the group followed suit, clearly glad to have escaped the awkward situation.

Despite the initial reluctance, Ghislain remained unfazed. He knew there had to be someone in the estate who would trust him enough to use the product.

“Maybe the mercenaries or servants would be willing to try it. After all, it’s something only nobles would usually use. Surely someone will give it a shot,” he muttered to himself as he began making his rounds through the estate.

“Want to try this?” he asked one person.

“I-I’m sorry, Lord!” came the nervous reply.

“How about you? It’s really an amazing product, something only nobles use!” he asked another.

“Forgive me, but no…” the person responded, backing away.

Everyone Ghislain approached was hesitant, clearly uneasy about testing an unknown product. Their reluctance was understandable.

“Are people just satisfied with their current state? Maybe I should gather a group with worse skin conditions…” he thought.

He eventually gathered a group of servants and mercenaries with poor skin, offering them the product. However, their reactions were either reluctant acceptance or outright refusal. At that point, he took the product back.

This was getting him nowhere.

“If this keeps up, it’ll be a problem selling it to nobles later on. After all, I’m not exactly a well-known name like the Delphine Dukedom.”

In his previous life, the Delphine family had made a fortune off this product, thanks to their prestigious name. But Fenris Estate was in the middle of nowhere, and Ghislain himself had little to no recognition.

No one trusted a product from a remote territory and an obscure lord.

Even his own people were hesitant to try it, so how could he expect nobles to?

After mulling it over, Ghislain realized he would have to go to the capital and find a way to promote the product himself. He clicked his tongue in frustration. He had thought making the product would be the hard part, but it seemed that finding people to buy it would be the real challenge.

“For now, I need to focus on finding a test subject,” he muttered, making his way around the estate again.

The gossip about Ghislain’s cosmetic product spread quickly. Soon, the whole estate was abuzz with whispers.

“Have you heard about the thing the lord’s been handing out?”

“Yeah, he offered it to me, but then took it back when he saw my reaction.”

“Why’s he suddenly trying to sell cosmetics?”

“Well, you know how our lord is. He can be a bit… odd at times. Remember when he almost poisoned himself?”

Though the people of the estate admired Ghislain’s success with farming, many still questioned whether it had been skill or luck. Given his often eccentric behavior, it was hard to put full faith in his latest endeavor.

The rumors spread throughout the estate, casting doubt on Ghislain’s new product. With the growing skepticism, it became even harder to find volunteers for the test.

“This is ridiculous… I should just force everyone to use it,” Ghislain grumbled to himself, growing more frustrated by the day.

Weeks had passed, and he hadn’t found a single willing test subject. His initial confidence was long gone, and he was beginning to consider more drastic measures.

Just as he was about to resort to forcing people to try the product, a voice interrupted him.

“My lord, I’ll try it.”

Ghislain turned around, surprised. “Gillian!”

Because Gillian had been out inspecting the territory, Ghislain hadn’t been able to offer him the product right away. But now, the loyal man had returned and was volunteering to test it himself.

Ghislain looked Gillian up and down. His skin was rough and weathered, with deep lines etched into his face.

‘He’s actually perfect for the test,’ Ghislain thought.

Gillian, despite his mastery of mana, hadn’t completely escaped the signs of aging. Years of training and hard living had taken their toll on his skin, making him an ideal candidate for the trial.

Even so, Ghislain asked to be sure, “Are you sure about this? Everyone else has been avoiding me because I made it.”

“I don’t care about my appearance, so it’s fine,” Gillian replied matter-of-factly.

Though not exactly a ringing endorsement, it was enough for Ghislain. Relieved, he handed a jar of the product to Gillian.

“How do I use it?” Gillian asked.

“Just wash your face before bed and apply it. You can also use it on other parts of your body if you want,” Ghislain explained.

“Understood.”

From that day onward, Gillian applied the product diligently, treating it as if it were another one of Ghislain’s commands.

Three days later, the whispers started.

“Hey, old man, got a girlfriend or something? You’re looking good. Where’d you meet her?” Kaor teased, grinning.

“Say another word, and I’ll remove your head from your body,” Gillian replied flatly.

Kaor had been joking, but it was true—Gillian’s appearance had noticeably improved.

Two more days passed, and the whispers became more frequent.

“Is it just me, or does he look younger?”

“Yeah, his skin looks smoother. Is he eating better than the rest of us?”

“Wait, could it be… that stuff the lord made?”

Gillian’s skin had gained a healthy glow. Though the wrinkles remained, his complexion had improved so dramatically that he appeared younger. His sun-damaged, weathered skin had transformed into a more vibrant, bronze tone.

For a man who had never cared about skincare, the results were astonishing.

Gillian, realizing the truth, nodded to himself.

“The lord’s product really works. Amazing,” he muttered, impressed.

Now fully convinced of its efficacy, he began using the product even more diligently, increasing the amount he applied each night.

Though he claimed not to care about his appearance, the compliments from others began to affect him. He found himself checking the mirror more often, pleased with the changes.

“Even at my age, it seems I’m not immune to vanity,” Gillian chuckled to himself, amused by his own behavior.

As word spread about Gillian’s results, people started asking him about the product, and he proudly told them it was the cosmetic Ghislain had created.

Soon, the product became the talk of the estate. Everyone was amazed by its effectiveness, especially given that it had only taken a few days for Gillian to see results.

Exactly one week after Gillian had started using the product, the door to Ghislain’s office flew open with a loud bang.

Startled, Ghislain looked up from his work.

Belinda, Claude, Wendy, and a group of others had stormed into the room.

“What’s going on?” Ghislain asked, amused by the sudden commotion.

Belinda, panting slightly, glared at him. “Give me some of that stuff too!”