IATVWAMOLS 86

86. A Fist Is Closer Than the Law (2)

After his short audience with Icart, Count Got trudged out of the Duke’s residence.

He had repeatedly begged for leniency on behalf of his wife, but Icart had remained unmoved.

In the end, driven out like a beggar, the Count left with slumped shoulders, heading toward his carriage.

Even then, unable to shake off his lingering attachment, he stood staring at the mansion for quite some time before reluctantly turning away.

From a distance, I watched his pitiful back and casually threw out a question.

“How do you see it?”

“What do you mean?”

Cayenne, who stood beside me, tilted his head.

“That man. Count Got.”

“Well, if you’re asking for my impression…”

He stretched lazily, then continued.

“Something smells fishy.”

“?”

“And not just a little fishy—a real stench.”

The corner of his lips curved into a smirk.

“I’m something of an expert in acting, you know. He pretends to be sorrowful, but there’s no real sincerity behind it.”

“……”

“And then there’s the way he subtly aired out his wife’s dirty laundry in the middle of pleading for her. If he truly cared about her, would he have said such things? Don’t you think that’s suspicious, Master?”

“You’re right. Very suspicious.”

I nodded in agreement.

Rushing here late at night, supposedly out of concern for his wife. Begging a knight on his knees, forgetting all about noble dignity.

At a glance, he looked like the most devoted husband alive. But the more I thought about his behavior, the stranger it became.

【SYSTEM: Mission! “Who is the real culprit?”】

What should I do?

I glanced at the mission window hanging at the corner of my vision, hesitating for a moment.

Part of me worried I might just be stirring up unnecessary trouble. But the hesitation didn’t last long.

If I wanted to reach the answer to this case, I needed to act. I couldn’t afford to miss even the smallest clue.

“Cayenne.”

“Yes, yes. I get it.”

The moment I called his name, he was already preparing to move.

“…Do you even know what I was going to say?”

“You want me to tail him and dig into his background, right?”

“How did you know?”

“Well, I have a knack for mind-reading, too…”

He joked, and I let out a short snort.

“Can you get back before sunrise?”

“Of course.”

Cayenne gave me an easy wave.

“Well then, I’ll be off.”

Leaving behind nothing but a picturesque smile, he stepped into the darkness. Soon, the heavy night swallowed him whole.

Clip-clop, clip-clop.

On a moonless night, a lone horse tore through the silence.

“Hyah!”

The one spurring the fine steed through the darkness was none other than Count Got.

After leaving the Duke’s residence, he had abandoned his carriage and switched to a horse, riding hard toward an unknown destination.

The man galloping through the pitch-black night looked nothing like the one who had stood trembling at the Duke’s mansion.

The timid, feeble nobleman was gone. What remained was a grim-faced rider, charging forward like a man possessed.

How long he rode, no one knew.

Crossing an arched bridge, he gradually slowed.

At the fork leading to his own estate, he turned his horse without a hint of hesitation.

His destination was a deserted back alley.

Passing between collapsing shacks and shabby lanes, he came upon the ruins of a half-demolished building.

Once, it had been an orphanage.

A place once filled with warmth, now abandoned, clinging only to the memory of happier days.

Dismounting before the building, Count Got removed his hat and approached a small grave.

He offered a brief prayer, then picked up a small stone and placed it atop the headstone.

It was a ritual.

A secret signal to make contact with the ones who lurked here.

Normally, once the stone was placed, a guide would emerge from the shadows.

But tonight was different.

Instead of the usual greeter, a harsh, grating voice scraped the air.

“No one’s coming to meet you, even if you place the stone.”

“W–who’s there—”

The Count flinched in fright.

From the ruins staggered a scarred, one-eyed man leaning on a staff.

He was the guildmaster of the assassin guild that had taken root here.

“For the guildmaster himself to greet me… Has something happened?”

“Damn right something happened!”

The guildmaster collapsed onto his staff with a thud.

“What was it you told me? That all we had to do was kill that brat from the Vermon house? Hell’s teeth! Why didn’t you mention the Duke’s heir would be there too?”

“I–I didn’t know either. Who could’ve guessed he was acquainted with the young duke? Besides, the plan was to blow up the whole carriage with the magic device…”

“……”

“And I never thought the Black Boa assassins would fail to handle any survivors.”

The Count tried to excuse himself, but the guildmaster spat in disgust.

“I’d heard rumors about that young pup from the Ducal house, thought it was all hot air…”

“You mean even your men couldn’t handle him?”

“Handle him? Hah. We didn’t even stand a chance. They were cut down like nothing.”

“Th–then—”

The Count’s face turned pale.

“Don’t wet yourself. Even if our assassins were wiped out, their mouths are sealed. Just as you asked, we pinned the blame on your wife. There’ll be no loose ends.”

“Th-that’s a relief.”

“Relief? Hah!”

The guildmaster’s one good eye glinted.

His voice dripped with venom.

“So you escape unharmed, and that’s ‘relief’? My guild took a huge blow from this job. You’ll be paying dearly for that.”

“Of course, of course. Once the Vermon brat is dead, all of his family’s fortune will pass to me. Your payment will be more than generous. I’ll add a handsome bonus as well.”

At the mention of extra money, the guildmaster’s foul mood finally eased.

“Tch. I never thought I’d meet someone so ruthless. Killing his own brother-in-law, then pinning the crime on his wife… cold-blooded, that’s what you are.”

“It was their fault for refusing my request in the first place. They brought this on themselves,” Count Got muttered.

“Hmph. And when your brother-in-law and wife are both gone, you’re sure the Vermon estate falls to you?”

“Without a doubt. Vermon has no spouse, no children. Only my wife and that foolish brat remain as heirs. Once they’re gone, the next successor is me.”

Indeed, the current Earl of Vermon had no direct family. His parents had passed long ago.

By law, his fortune would first go to his only sibling—Count Got’s wife.

But if she were exposed as a would-be murderer of the Earl?

Imperial law stripped murderers of inheritance rights. Her claim would be void, and the inheritance would pass entirely to her husband—Count Got.

The guildmaster clicked his tongue.

“Cold. No blood, no tears where money’s involved.”

“In a world like this, you have to be ruthless to survive. So—when will you finish the job?”

“You mean Vermon?”

“Yes. That brat may be gravely injured, but he’s still alive! If he realizes something…”

The Count blustered, but fear shook his voice.

“Don’t worry. If I walked out of the Duke’s house unharmed, doesn’t that tell you enough? Once things calm, I’ll slip back in and silence him.”

The guildmaster snorted as if it were nothing.

“And don’t forget—you’re pinning it on my wife again.”

At that brazen demand, the guildmaster chuckled.

“So, I’m planting evidence in her quarters again, is that it?”

“That’s already done. You’ll have to use another method this time.”

“Fine. Just make sure you’ve got that extra payment ready.”

“Of course, of course. I’ll leave it in your hands.”

Muttering another plea, Count Got mounted his horse and rode into the night.

Watching him leave, the guildmaster clicked his tongue.

“Vile, pathetic bastard. And me, cleaning up after him… pathetic still.”

But his grumbling hadn’t even faded when—

“Knowing that, why keep wallowing in filth?”

“Wh–who’s there?!”

A chilling presence brushed the back of his neck.

Startled, the guildmaster sprang to his feet.

In an instant, daggers filled both his hands. His reflexes were worthy of his reputation as master of assassins.

But his opponent was faster.

Before he had even straightened fully, a figure flashed forward and seized him by the collar.

“Ghhk!”

“Shh. Quiet. You’re supposed to be an assassin, aren’t you? Then learn to endure in silence.”

Cayenne’s voice whispered in his ear as he emerged from the shadows.

“Relax your body. Struggle pointlessly and—”

Crack.

“Ugh!”

With a sharp cry, the guildmaster’s left arm went limp.

“See? Now you can only fight with one hand. Better not waste strength on useless resistance. Let’s keep this simple, hm?”

“……!”

The guildmaster trembled as if he had come face-to-face with death itself, staring at Cayenne’s smiling face.