IATVWAMOLS 87

87. A Fist Is Closer Than the Law (3)

“Not only is he addicted to gambling, but he’s also a womanizer. Just as I expected—he’s rotten to the core.”

A degenerate and a philanderer.

That was Cayenne’s evaluation of Count Gote.

As promised, Cayenne had returned before dawn, and the story he brought with him was astonishing.

“The Gote household may look respectable on the outside, but it’s been rotting from within for a long time. He squandered nearly all the wealth he inherited through gambling.”

“……”

“The only reason he was able to maintain his influence was entirely thanks to his wife.”

“Do you mean Countess Gote had help from the Vermon family?”

“Partly, yes. Count Vermon’s support helped, but it seems the countess herself was quite shrewd as well.”

That explained it.

Unlike the sociable and extroverted countess, Count Gote had rarely shown his face in public. And yet, no rumors of marital discord had ever surfaced.

“In reality, the countess was the one playing the role of the head.”

“Exactly. Gote was at least cunning enough to pretend to be a devoted husband, even while secretly consorting with other women.”

“That just makes the countess all the more pitiful.”

“Well, I doubt she ever knew her husband was unfaithful. She probably still thinks he’s doing everything he can to save her.”

“Hm.”

I let out a deep sigh.

Once again, I was impressed by Cayenne.

‘How did he manage to dig up all of this in such a short time?’

When I heard that he had even captured the leader of the assassins’ guild, I’d nearly fainted in shock. Yet now, he was recounting Count Gote’s secrets with ease—how he had contracted the guild to assassinate Count Vermon, and how he had plotted to frame his own wife.

But something nagged at me.

“Then why did Count Gote suddenly go this far? He could’ve just continued living off his wife’s influence like before.”

“The problem is, he caused a mess that even his wife couldn’t cover up.”

“?”

Cayenne smirked crookedly.

“Recently, Count Gote was swindled out of the last of his fortune. On top of that, he racked up a mountain of debt.”

“Unbelievable.”

I pressed a hand to my forehead.

How could anyone be so reckless? Even a fool would know better than to burn through wealth that practically fell into his lap.

If Countess Gote had already filed for divorce, no one could’ve blamed her.

“She probably doesn’t know any of this. The count wanted to keep it quiet.”

“It would’ve been faster if he’d just told her the truth.”

“No argument there.”

When I looked at him in exasperation, Cayenne just chuckled.

“He went around begging his relatives for investments in some new venture, but who would trust a man like him? Everyone turned him down.”

“And then?”

“As a last resort, he asked his wife for money—and she refused. With no funds and the repayment deadline looming, he grew desperate.”

“So he was cornered into taking extreme measures.”

“Exactly.”

Cayenne answered curtly, then clung to me with a grin.

“What a pathetic fool. If it were me, I’d have groveled before anyone willing to lend me money. Don’t you think so, Master?”

“Get off.”

I shoved him away with one hand, trying to gather my thoughts.

‘So it really all comes down to money.’

Burdened with crushing debt and driven into a corner, Count Gote made the worst possible choice.

‘To try to kill both his wife and brother-in-law…’

He must have planned to seize not only his wife’s fortune but also the Vermon estate’s wealth.

To the world, they seemed a loving couple. What would the countess think if she ever learned of her husband’s true face?

‘The real victim here is her.’

“As they say, blinded by greed and ungrateful for what he had, he dug his own grave.”

Cayenne summed it up in a single line.

At last, the truth of the incident was revealed. We even knew the true culprit.

【SYSTEM: Mission! “Who Is the Culprit?”】

But the mission window still hadn’t marked it as a success.

Apparently, exposing Count Gote’s crimes in full was necessary to complete it.

The problem was…

“The situation is clear, but unfortunately, we have no evidence.”

There was nothing solid to prove his guilt.

Even with the assassin guild’s leader in Cayenne’s hands, who could say whether he’d confess openly before witnesses?

And even if he did, would Gote admit to anything?

‘He could just claim it was all a conspiracy.’

Everything was already stacked against the countess. Evidence pointing to her guilt was everywhere.

If not for the mission, even I might have believed she was the true culprit.

‘Still, her words that day were too strange to ignore.’

On the day Eckhart left, she had made a cynical remark that only the true perpetrator could have said.

Looking back, I realized I had completely misjudged.

‘That side is more or less settled. The real problem is Count Gote.’

No matter how I turned it over in my head, gathering proof of his crimes quickly seemed nearly impossible.

Then Cayenne spoke casually.

“Evidence can always be made.”

“How?”

“First, we go to him. If he won’t hand over proof of his crimes willingly, we’ll make his life worse than death until he does.”

“…You’re joking, right?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

The sinister smile tugging at his lips was anything but reassuring.

At this point, I wasn’t sure who was more criminal—Count Gote or Cayenne.

“Remember what your brother said? Killing a noble carries severe punishment.”

“I won’t kill him.”

That was hardly comforting.

I looked at him warily, but he only shrugged, as if wondering what the problem was.

‘What do I do?’

If it were Cayenne, he would solve this matter by any means necessary—but that could only be a last resort.

After a long pause, I said,

“No. This time, we’ll try something different.”

“Oh? Do you have a better idea?”

“If there’s no evidence, then we just need a confession.”

I declared triumphantly, but Cayenne looked doubtful.

“You really think he’ll confess? This case has already blown up too much. He won’t admit it easily.”

But I felt a strong certainty.

“No. Count Gote will end up proving his own guilt with his own hands.”

Roselia wasn’t the only one lying awake that night.

Near dawn, Eckhart and Philip visited the infirmary within the ducal estate.

The head physician had tended to Count Vermon through the night, but the man still hovered at death’s door, unconscious.

Eckhart asked quietly,

“Will it still be several days before the temple healer arrives?”

“Yes, even with the schedule pushed forward, at least three or four days.”

Eckhart sighed heavily.

Even wielding his authority as acting head of the family, he couldn’t summon a high-ranking temple healer any faster.

Shortening what should have been months of waiting down to mere days was already an extraordinary feat.

But Vermon’s condition worsened by the hour. Even three or four days might be too long.

“My lord, I understand your concern, but you must rest as well,” the physician urged gently.

To Roselia, he had downplayed Eckhart’s wounds as minor, but the reality was different.

Standing at the heart of the explosion, Eckhart’s injuries had been far from light. Only his natural constitution and magical resilience had mitigated them.

The physician had nearly fainted upon hearing that Eckhart had gone on to single-handedly rout a band of brigands afterward.

“How can I rest while someone’s life is slipping away before my eyes? I have to find a way.”

Eckhart’s tone was firm.

At that moment, Philip, who had been silent, spoke cautiously.

“My lord… there is a way. But it’s one you might detest…”

“?”

Back at his mansion, Count Gote was in high spirits.

Just a month ago, he had been in utter despair, but now everything had changed. Soon, the Vermon estate’s fortune would be his.

He would pay off his debts and reclaim all the assets he had lost.

Of course, it wouldn’t be easy.

The Vermon retainers would resist, and persuading the family’s relatives would take work.

Still, he was certain it would all be his in the end.

“Once the heirs have destroyed each other, no one will quibble about bloodline or tradition.”

Officially, Count Vermon’s death would be recorded as murder by his own sister.

That Eckhart had been caught up in the incident was unexpected, but to Gote, it was a windfall.

If it were ruled that she had attempted to kill both Count Vermon and the young heir, she would face nothing less than the death penalty.

Though Vermon had not died instantly in the explosion, he was gravely wounded and would eventually succumb.

“That one-eyed fellow knows how to handle such things,” Gote muttered with confidence.

No one would suspect a thing.

In the eyes of the public, it would be nothing more than siblings fighting over inheritance.

Stripped of honor and dignity, the Vermon family would have no choice but to merge with the Gote house to preserve any semblance of face.

“This wretched life won’t last much longer.”

There were still some bothersome tasks he had to perform.

Every day, he dutifully visited the ducal estate to beg for his wife’s release.

Despite her supposed crimes, he needed to appear as the devoted husband standing by her side.

That display of loyalty would make it much easier to absorb the Vermon fortune later.

Of course, behind the scenes, he would do everything he could to hasten her execution.

“Well then, time to pay the dukedom a visit.”

He set down his teacup and began preparing to go out.

Though he hadn’t slept a wink, his spirits were high.

The act disgusted him, but the thought of his glittering future made it bearable.

Everything was falling into place—

Until his servant rushed in with alarming news.

“What? The duke’s people struck first?”