Chapter 8
Chapter 8
The Mad Priest of the Slums #8
Inside the car heading to Benjamin’s mansion—
“Are all priests of Verdia like that?”
“What do you mean?”
When I turned my head to ask, Benjamin took out a cigar case and inhaled deeply as if he were taking in drugs.
“You reek of a courtesan.”
“Ah, that.”
It wasn’t my first time with a woman.
Just my first time using a place like that.
“I heard if a courtesan brings a guest to a room but doesn’t end up in bed with him, it becomes a huge flaw for her.”
“So?”
“It’s her workplace. And since I’m the one asking for help, I didn’t think it was proper to damage her reputation.”
“So you had a round with her?”
“If you call it that, then yes.”
Benjamin stared at me for a moment—
Then burst into loud laughter.
“Looks like you really are naive if you fell for such a simple lie.”
“…It was a lie?”
“What? Hahaha!”
He laughed so hard he clutched his stomach.
“Listen, young priest. Do you think any man who goes into a room with a courtesan would just leave without doing anything?”
“Well, if she had scars or something—”
“This is a business. Reputation is everything.”
“…I see.”
“Still, don’t feel bad. An ace like her doesn’t lack money.”
“That did seem true.”
She had even asked me to stay longer, offering to lower the fee.
“Young priest, a clean face like yours is rare in this rotten district.”
“I haven’t seen much yet.”
“Give it two days.”
Once he started talking, Benjamin turned out to be surprisingly chatty, and the conversation continued until we reached his mansion.
“It’s more modest than I expected.”
“I live alone. No need to waste money.”
I didn’t agree.
For a ruler, maybe modest.
For an ordinary person—
It was a palace.
Three floors.
Massive size.
The woman who greeted me earlier opened the car door.
“Shall we eat first?”
“I won’t refuse.”
She guided us to the dining hall on the second floor.
‘This is basically a banquet hall.’
Benjamin asked casual questions.
Why serve two gods.
What I did before coming here.
My age.
Nothing difficult.
“Are you really planning to do business with me?”
“Yes.”
“Then why so many secrets?”
I didn’t answer everything.
Better to stay silent than lie badly.
Soon—
Servants brought food.
“It’s good.”
“Best chef in the city.”
“I can tell.”
After eating—
We walked around.
We stopped before a large portrait.
“A beautiful woman.”
“My wife.”
She was stunning.
“Is that you beside her?”
“What kind of question is that?”
But—
The man in the painting looked nothing like him now.
‘What happened to him?’
In the painting—
He was the most handsome man I had ever seen.
Sharp jaw.
Charismatic eyes.
Even the mustache suited him.
“Benjamin.”
“Yes?”
“You should take better care of yourself. If you meet her again like this, you’ll get hit.”
“…Hahaha!”
He laughed loudly again.
“No one’s ever said that before.”
“I’m a bit unusual.”
“Not a bit. Very.”
He patted my shoulder.
“Let’s go meet the one you’ll question.”
“Alright.”
“There’s a basement.”
“Not for outsiders.”
The atmosphere changed instantly.
From modern—
To medieval.
“Hiss—”
“Sorry.”
He lit a cigar.
“It’s fine.”
He lit a lantern.
“Darker than expected.”
“Fitting for what’s inside.”
We stopped at a cell.
“Boss!!”
A young man crawled forward.
“I’m innocent! Please believe me!”
“What do you think?”
“He’s younger than I expected.”
“I trusted him. Got betrayed.”
“Boss! Please give me a chance!”
He looked genuinely desperate.
But—
Neither of us cared.
“Hello. I’ll give you a chance. Listen first.”
“Really?!”
“Quiet.”
“Mm!”
He covered his mouth.
“I’m a priest. Benjamin hired me to determine your innocence.”
“….”
Benjamin smirked.
“Read this.”
I handed him the contract.
Terms:
Interrogation happens in dreams.
No physical harm.
Assistant: Olivia.
Subject restrained.
Senses increased tenfold.
Possible sexual dysfunction not my responsibility.
Duration: 6 hours.
Endure = win.
Surrender = memories extracted.
All memories erased afterward.
“…Add that she’s the ace.”
“Fine.”
I edited it.
“…Also add that if I’m innocent, the boss protects me.”
“That’s another contract.”
Benjamin nodded.
I created another contract.
He signed it.
The prisoner signed both.
Whoosh—
The contracts burned away.
“Tomorrow afternoon.”
“T-thank you!!”
He bowed repeatedly.
We left.
“Honestly, I’m disappointed.”
“In what way?”
“Everything. You underestimated people like him.”
“…?”
“Tenfold senses? Drugs are easier to get than bread here. No matter how skilled that courtesan is, you won’t get anything.”
He looked certain.
I tilted my head.
“Benjamin.”
“Yes?”
“Did the contract specify how the interrogation would be done?”
“Of course—”
Blink.
He froze.
“…Why isn’t it written?”
Because I didn’t write it.
But instead—
“You and I will both get what we want tomorrow.”