Two New Developments
Over the past week, there had been two notable developments worth mentioning.
The bastard known as Lloyd—or was it Steroid?—had finally been dragged away in heavy chains after confessing that he had indeed taken money from some suspicious individuals. I suspected he was still hiding more, but no matter how much we tortured him, he refused to open his mouth. Even though he was related to the Empress, the situation had spiraled far beyond what anyone could cover up. On top of that, the Crown Prince had issued a stern order to investigate the matter thoroughly, so even the nobles close to him couldn’t pull any strings.
Even if he were released, a significant portion of his body would likely never function properly again. And why was that? Because the person in charge of this investigation was none other than me.
I’ve never been fond of outsourcing, so I personally prepared the torture methods. Simply hanging him upside down and beating him was considered a break. Beyond that, we poured saltwater into his nose while he was inverted, stabbed large needles into him like some twisted game of “pop the pirate,” zapped him with electric magic, froze him, peeled the skin off the soles of his feet and poured oil on the raw flesh… anyway, I made sure the screams never stopped.
But I hadn’t expected him to be so weak despite claiming to be unaccustomed to pain. He stubbornly insisted until the end that he had only taken the money, and eventually passed out from the agony. We had no choice but to wake the fainted bastard up. For that, I used a very traditional method.
“Cold water, cool this body.”
Using magic, I doused him with icy water. Jesus offered his disciples wine like his own blood, and the inquisitors who followed in his footsteps offered cold water to heretics. As the last inquisitor, it only made sense that I would sprinkle cold water as well.
“Huuuuurk!”
Startled by my kindness in serving even trash with cold water, the bastard jolted awake immediately. I lit a cigarette. I didn’t usually smoke much, but torturers were supposed to have one dangling from their lips.
“Hey, let’s not do this anymore. Just spill everything and let’s both feel better, huh? Hyung is tired too… Hyung really wants to finish this and go home, you fucking son of a bitch… So please, just talk…”
Accepting the will of Jesus, who taught that even human garbage was still human, I earnestly pleaded with the piece of human trash. I could almost see the Three Great Sages smiling down at me with approval.
“I really don’t know anything…”
“Ah, so that’s your preference.”
A masochist—one who derives sexual pleasure from pain. If that was the case, then Werner, the true artist of agony, would have to personally assist him. After all, a genuine artist of pain offers his art for free.
“So, what should we do next? Pour boiling oil into your ears? Break your legs and roll you down a steep slope? Or… yeah, let’s crack some peanuts. Peanut cracking it is.”
“Peanut… cracking…?”
“You don’t know peanuts? The things hanging between your legs, you idiot.”
At that, the bastard’s face turned deathly pale. So he really liked his peanuts. I had been ready to stop if he had a peanut allergy.
“I remember! I remember everything!”
Just how much did he love his peanuts that even memories he couldn’t recall suddenly came flooding back? I paid my respects to Mr. Peanut—the legume originating from South America, a dicotyledonous plant belonging to the Rosales order and Fabaceae family.
“Good, good. What exactly do you remember?”
“The person who gave me the money… he was tall, carried a sword, and emitted an extraordinary aura.”
Was it that Lancelot bastard? In the world I came from, he was known as the “Knight of Adultery,” the “Bastard Who Shows Loyalty by Stealing the King’s Woman,” or “Lower Body Berserker.” A real piece of shit.
“He gave me the money and asked for the key and rental rights to the sewers.”
“And you sold it to him? You traitorous son of a bitch.”
Carrying out Mr. Peanut’s will, I kicked the bastard in the stomach.
“Kuheeeek…! When I asked why he needed it, he said knowing too much would get me hurt.”
“That’s the same thing you said before, you dog bastard. What do you mean knowing too much gets you hurt? Knowledge is power, you fucking idiot! Today you’re going to get hurt because you know too little.”
If he didn’t know the famous saying by Francis Bacon that knowledge is power, then he deserved a soccer kick. Even though the man died while burying a chicken in the snow to observe it, he was still a great figure. Not knowing his words only proved this guy was absolute garbage.
“N-no, no, no! And after that, he sighed and added something else!”
“Then you should’ve said that from the beginning, you dog bastard! Can’t you see how much trouble you’ve caused me and everyone else here?!”
I kicked him in the stomach again. Then I kicked him in the shin. There was no particular meaning behind kicking his shin. I was just pissed off.
“Kuuuugh!”
“Hurry up and tell me what that bastard said! Or does Hyung really need to see blood today? Should I go back to my days as the Noble of Fresh Blood?”
“H-he said, ‘We select the products’! Yes, he definitely said that! Then he left! It’s the truth!”
“Why the hell did you wait until now to say that, you fucking bastard!”
I beat the shit out of him for a long time. Ricardo, the Crown Prince, Camellia, and everyone else who had been watching the torture eventually had to stop me. Only then did the Fist of Justice finally come to a halt.
The second notable event was that I finally had my own house and bank account.
To be precise, I had reclaimed the account Werner used to have… but it still felt good. What made me even happier was checking the balance inside it. In the original story, it was supposed to be just pocket money from his older brothers and sisters plus a bit of saved salary… but the amount far exceeded my imagination.
It was enough money to establish several top-tier merchant companies in this world. It was the kind of fortune that made me think, Screw the world I used to live in.
The house Ricardo had prepared for me wasn’t overly grand. Well, it was quite large, but compared to Ricardo’s mansion, it felt modest. Still, it had a beautiful garden with a pond, and its elegant white exterior really appealed to me. Ricardo said he would take care of hiring the servants and guards.
Oh, and there was a bit of noise when deciding on the rooms. Glacia and Airi had fought over who would sleep in the room next to mine. Honestly, it was already depressing enough that I couldn’t eat jajangmyeon on moving day, and now they were fighting too. So I simply took the room next to Camellia’s and gave my original room to Glacia.
Glacia and Airi seemed impressed by my Solomon-like wise judgment. They couldn’t say a word and just glared at each other. The only one who smiled at this ruling—which could be called the Second Coming of Solomon—was Camellia.
“Oh, Sister. Your expression has been so dark lately. Are you feeling a bit better now?”
“Ah… yes, I’m fine now. I’ve been organizing my thoughts little by little.”
“Organizing your thoughts?”
“That man we encountered in the sewers… he was actually…”
At that moment, a knife came flying toward us with a sharp whoosh, and Camellia deflected it with the edge of her hand.
“What is this commotion?”
Camellia’s hostility was directed not at me, but at my two friends’ daughters. Airi and Glacia had started fighting over some trivial matter again, and it had escalated into a knife fight. These girls really needed to be regulated. If one of them got seriously hurt, I’d be the one taking all the blame. Whether it was gambling or life, taking all the blame was something to avoid at all costs.
But hastily made regulations often backfired like that idiotic shutdown system. I didn’t want to become like those morons who limited teenagers to only one hour of gaming per week during designated times. So even if it was difficult right now, I needed to think of a proper alternative.
However, the half-elf seemed to have a different idea and quickly offered her own regulation.
“If you fight again, I will tell your parents and have them take you back. Airi will have to follow Zeke, and Glacia will be trapped in the northern territory with no escape.”
It was the elder’s ultimate technique and secret art: Telling Your Parents. As expected of an older elf, her skill in handling children was superb. The two of them immediately looked downcast, lowered their heads, and muttered that they understood.
I felt a bit sorry for Airi, whose date had been interrupted last week, but I could make it up to her properly next time.
“Airi… your birthday is coming up soon, right? Is there anything you want? I’ll get you anything.”
Within the limits of what my wallet allowed, of course.
“Then, on my birthday, please go on a proper date with me. No matter what happens, don’t leave my side.”
“Sure. Even if a meteor falls or a tidal wave hits, I’ll stay with you.”
Only then did Airi’s gloomy expression brighten. I whispered into the ear of a now even more depressed-looking Glacia.
“The day after that, I will spend time with Lady Glacia.”
After all, I am Werner—a man of fairness.
Once the two girls, who had been sulking, left the hallway with smiling faces and returned to their rooms, Camellia resumed the conversation she hadn’t been able to finish earlier, her face serious.
“The man we encountered in the sewers last time… I know who he is.”
Her tone was unusually heavy.
“So who is he?”
Just knowing his identity would be a huge help in the upcoming investigation.
“That person… his name is… Raven.”
Her voice trembled as she continued.
“Raven Peony… he is my father.”