Reverse Spy Corruption Training (2)
Eric's quill pen scratched across the paper, then stopped abruptly.
He had rewritten the same line three times since dawn.
Frustrated, he rubbed at the smudged, distorted ink with his finger, leaving a long black streak along the side of his palm.
"Hoo... uuuu...."
A deep groan escaped Eric's lips.
'Gareth hasn't come back.'
He should have handed the slaves off to his mother beyond the walls, then returned with the empty cart and slipped into the stables behind the manor as usual. Even if late, by morning at the latest. That pattern had held without fail for the past three years.
But it was broken now.
The sun had already climbed a full handspan above the windowsill, yet there was no sign of Gareth reporting in.
"That bastard Gareth...."
Fury surged, and Eric hurled the quill across the room. The inkwell wobbled, splattering a single black drop onto the desk. He scowled, brows furrowing.
Gareth wasn't just his subordinate. The bastard was also Kent's trusted man.
For someone like that to vanish without reporting meant—
'Did that fucker dig into my slave line through Gareth?'
The thought made Eric's fingers clamp the desk edge until it seemed it might splinter. His nails turned white at the cuticles.
'No, no... He's probably just pawing at the merchandise again like last time, the greedy prick. I warned him I'd cut his dick off if he got caught!'
A knock echoed at the door.
"Come in."
Irritated as hell, Eric was mildly surprised at how sleazy his own voice sounded even to him.
The door creaked open cautiously moments later.
"...I've come for the morning report, Master Eric."
It was the beautiful maid, Lia.
Her white maid cap sat neatly atop her head, and she balanced a silver tray with freshly brewed tea in her hands. Even the slight bend of her knees in greeting was flawless.
Eric's perpetually twisted scowl softened into a natural smile.
He ogled Lia's breasts openly, then jerked his chin at her.
"Come closer."
Lia approached without hesitation. As she leaned forward to pour the tea, the curve of her ass came into view.
Eric's grin widened sleazily.
Lia’s shoulder twitched faintly.
"......"
She filled the cup precisely to seven-tenths, without spilling a single drop.
"Oh, you're holding up well. I like that."
Eric cackled in praise, and Lia dipped her head slightly, exhaling softly.
Mistaking it for shyness, Eric had no idea Lia harbored the exact opposite in her heart.
She had only bowed her head to keep the bile from spewing out.
'This hand, that fucker's hand. Grime caked under the nails.'
Avoiding Eric's face, Lia narrowed her eyes. Her gaze fixed on the floor, her mind far away.
Werner’s hands weren't like this.
Long, straight... firm. When he pressed his bloodied fingers to her lips, that pressure alone soaked her thighs.
'Young Master...'
Lia shifted her stance subtly, blocking Eric from ogling her body further. It belonged to Werner now.
"So, the report?"
Eric's tone shifted abruptly. Suspicion toward Werner overshadowed his swelling lust.
Lia clasped her hands in front and delivered her usual report. Werner had gotten blackout drunk playing around yesterday, just like always, and was still snoring away.
As Eric's guard relaxed at the familiar routine, Lia paused, obedient to Werner's command.
"What?"
Eric asked, puzzled.
"...Yes, Young Master. There is one thing I must report."
She hesitated just enough to seem overstepping for a mere maid, as if compelled by loyalty to Eric.
"Speak."
Eric swiveled his chair to face her directly, curtly.
"Last night, on my way to the laundry with the young master's soiled linens—"
Lia dropped her gaze, feigning reluctance so naturally that Eric leaned forward unconsciously.
"Don't keep me in suspense, you bitch. Spit it out."
"......I saw Sir Gareth near the training grounds."
Eric's breath caught.
"A knight there at that hour? And... Sir Gareth was with Captain Kent. They exchanged a few brief words,"
Lia continued slowly, weighing each word like gold.
"Then I saw Sir Gareth hurrying toward the north wing. Toward the basement... the wine cellar."
Bam!
Eric's palm slammed the desk. The inkwell toppled, black liquid flooding over stacks of parchment.
Lia flinched back dramatically, feigning shock.
'Young Master, I did exactly as you said. So... you know what comes next♥, right?'
Her face pale as a ghost outwardly, inwardly a cold sneer like a blade aimed at Eric.
"That fucker... Gareth, that traitor, bought off by Kent... my ledger...?"
Eric's pupils trembled.
Gareth knew the wine cellar's location. If bought by Kent, he was the only outsider who knew about the ledger hidden behind the third oak barrel.
"Assemble the knights. Now!"
Eric shoved back his chair and stood.
Lia clasped her hands neatly and bowed deeply.
"I wish you safety, Young Master."
'Hurry up and die on my young master's sword, you pig fuck.'
The door slammed shut, Eric's footsteps racing down the hall.
Alone in the study, Lia slowly raised her head.
She glanced at the spilled ink, then—unbidden by Werner—sprang into action.
She rifled through Eric's desk drawer, pocketing minor documents unlikely to be noticed, tucking them into her maid uniform.
Her face lit with a radiant smile, imagining the pleasure Werner would grant her upon delivery.
But moments later, she resumed her prim maid facade.
She picked up her tray and left the study.
Her steps down the hall were feather-light, the opposite of her tense entry.
A bit earlier, before Lia's report to Eric, in the north wing.
Anna crossed the passage, laundry basket under her arm, her usual small-animal fright etched on her face. Sheets trailed from the basket.
The guard at the entrance didn't even glance inside, waving her through lazily.
"Hey,"
Anna approached timidly, but he shooed her impatiently.
"Fine, go on."
Sloppy duty, but no one in the manor was paranoid enough to suspect the tiny laundress.
Besides, the guards' attention was on the training grounds.
Knights had poured out of Eric's study like madmen, rushing toward Captain Kent.
No one spared a thought for lowly laundry girl Anna.
"Sir Gareth didn't return last night?"
"No way, for real?"
"When Lady Isabella gets back, heads will roll. Whew."
As the guards gossiped, the petite, ever-frightened laundress slipped inside, sheet fluttering.
Anna passed the back door and descended the basement stairs.
The old wooden steps creaked softly underfoot.
The underground wine cellar.
A dim space heavy with mold and oak scent, lit by a single flickering torch.
Anna set down her basket and moved swiftly.
The third oak barrel.
Exactly as Young Master Werner had instructed.
She ran her palms along the side, tracing the grain just below center. Her fingertip caught a subtle difference in texture.
A light press, and the surface popped inward.
No wine spilled. It was already empty inside.
Her heart pounded like it might burst; she tapped it calm with her small hand.
'Young Master, help me!'
Reaching in, she pulled out a thick leather-bound ledger and a small metal box.
Anna's breath quickened.
'This... just this one, right, Young Master?'
She rummaged the basket, laying the ledger at the very bottom under sheets, topping with two pillowcases.
Now it looked like mere laundry.
She left the metal box. Per Werner's orders.
'Take only the ledger. Don't touch the gold. Leave evidence they tampered, then go.'
Anna snatched the basket and fled the cellar.
She hurried down the hall faster than usual, then slowed belatedly.
The whole thing took scant time.
Just as Werner had timed and told her.
He was right. Terrifying, but not that hard.
Just slip down the stairs to the corridor...
There he was.
Mid-stairs, a massive silhouette backlit by sunlight. Shoulders so broad they cramped the narrow steps.
Knight Captain Kent Garcia.
Anna's heart plummeted.
Screeech. Kent descended.
The narrow exit to outside was blocked by his bulk.
He took the stairs slowly.
One step. One step.
Each heavy footfall made the old wood groan in agony, only for the next to follow.
Anna's feet froze.
"Oh, Anna. Same scared face as always. What are you doing here?"
Kent's viscous gaze raked her from toes to scalp.
"Y-yes, C-Captain. Taking Young Master Werner's linens to laundry,"
"At this hour? To the wing?"
"If not now, the young master might... wake...."
Anna stared at the floor, knees buckling slightly. Her basket hand shook; she gripped it with the other.
"Hm."
Kent seized her chin, yanking it up.
"Ack...!"
His grip crushed like it would snap her neck.
He forced her head back, shoving his face close. Rotten meat breath and stale booze reeked between yellowed teeth.
Anna swallowed vomit, eyes welling.
"Werner's worthless shit clothes...."
Kent's voice dropped to a whisper, soft—and thus more revolting.
"......You applied the monster lure properly, right?"
Anna nodded frantically, lips blue, stammering.
"......Y-yes, Captain. Yesterday, during laundry... inside the lining seams... where it touches his skin... deeply...."
"Which clothes."
"......Two white shirts... one black coat... inner cloak too...."
"Good."
Kent's lip curled crookedly, fingers lingering on her face.
"If Werner gets even a whiff of suspicion."
His breath washed over her again.
"That night, you're handed to the slave trader outside the walls. Know what that means?"
Anna's knees nearly buckled.
"Y-yes!"
"Good girl, Anna. I'll reward you personally after the subjugation feast. Heh heh huh."
Kent released her throat like trash, his voice dripping slime.
He sneered sadistically down at coughing, collapsed Anna, snorted in satisfaction, and turned away.
Anna staggered up, clutching the basket, and descended past him.
Once out the back door into a narrow alley beyond Kent's sight...
Tears streaking her face twisted into a faint, hazy smile.
'......You're finished now.'
Young Master Werner knows all your idiotic plans. And he's laid plans to destroy you.
Recalling Werner's face melted her fear. Though he'd warned of danger, her voluntary role filled her with deep satisfaction.
Anna lifted Werner's clothes from the basket, hugging them close, inhaling deeply.
She scrubbed the skin Kent's filthy fingers had touched, thinking only of one face.
A man incomparable to Kent scum. Unlike others who saw her as disposable maid trash, he truly cared for her. The splendidly named Young Master Werner.
There he stood, at the manor's edge, behind the abandoned stables, waiting.
"Young Master!"
Unable to hold back, Anna shouted his name and ran to him. She flinched, expecting anger—but no.
Instead, he approached with a gentle smile, pulling her into his arms.
"......I-I... it was scary. So... so...."
"I get it, Anna. You want me to fuck you, right?"
"......Yes♥"
"Lie down. I'll fuck you."
"Yes!"
. . .
[Anna's Affection has exceeded 100!]
[Corruption Training - Skill Pregnancy is now available!]
'What? Already?'