Chapter 6
Odette, in plain view of Mrs. Becker, neatly arranged a stack of documents on the solid wood desk.
They were all falsified materials—fake evidence fabricating the Count’s criminal enterprises, her mother’s extravagance, and her brother’s history of drugs and gambling—all under Odette’s name.
These were the very same pieces of forged evidence used in court in her previous life to convict her of heinous crimes.
She remembered the contents well, having stood there while each document was explained, each crime recited—none of which she had committed.
“How extravagant the documents used to frame me are.”
A birth certificate fabricated to make her look like the Count’s legitimate daughter. Forged bank accounts, diamond mine records in her name… drug deals, human trafficking, and purchasing prostitutes.
In these high-quality papers, the Odette portrayed looked grand and powerful—as if any sin she committed would be forgiven because she was noble.
“If I had even lived that kind of life once, maybe I wouldn’t feel so wronged.”
Odette let out a dry laugh. The real documents that described her life were meager enough to fit inside her sleeve.
She tied the stack with a string and glanced sideways at Mrs. Becker, who stood nearby, clearly uneasy.
She must have been terrified the ledgers would vanish from the safe.
“Well, she wouldn’t know that no one will be opening that safe for the next month anyway.”
Of course, Odette had no intention of telling Mrs. Becker that. A woman who only cared for her own safety would surely go out of her way to stop anyone else from opening it.
“…Miss, this is theft,” Mrs. Becker said.
“Compared to stealing someone’s husband, isn’t this quite trivial?” Odette replied calmly.
Mrs. Becker bit her lip hard.
“It’d be best not to tell anyone about what just happened. That way, my lips can stay sealed too.”
“…”
“I’m so glad we now share a secret. I always wanted to get closer to you, Mrs. Becker.”
At least in my previous life.
Leaving the trembling woman behind, Odette gracefully exited the study.
“Miss!”
Lize stood waiting in front of the mansion, holding a trunk.
“As you instructed, I switched out the young master’s honey water. I’ve also summoned a coach.”
“Well done, Lize.”
Odette handed her a stack of papers.
“Deliver this to the Marquisate of Kleist.”
“The Kleist family?” Lize looked as if she had just heard something horrifying. The Marquisate of Kleist was infamous for their brutal ways, and the current marquis, Xion, was said to be even worse.
They called him a demon from hell.
Xion Reinhardt von Kleist.
The head of the Imperial Intelligence Agency, and an S-rank Transcendent. Leader of the Emperor’s watchdog family, who had long controlled the empire’s intelligence networks.
He was also one of the four male leads in <DanGuWon>…
“And the first man I’ll be making a deal with.”
The only issue was that Xion would never agree to meet her amicably. In this game, all four male leads were pre-programmed to loathe Odette.
Among them, Xion despised her most openly.
For three years, she had refused every desperate purification request from Transcendents—and worse, his subordinates likely sent him daily reports of forged crimes attributed to her.
But if she played this the right way, no card could be more powerful than him.
“When you hand him the documents, tell the butler that I request a private audience. Show him my ID; he’ll know what to do.”
“Wait, Miss. Why all of a sudden…?”
Startled, Lize was handed Odette’s identification card. Crafted with cornflowers in silver, it granted unrestricted access to the Imperial Palace.
It was bestowed directly by the Emperor, recognizing her as the Empire’s sole Purifier. Only she and the S-rank Transcendents possessed such a thing.
“Eep! Miss, is it really okay to give me something so precious?”
“If they refuse the meeting, say this: ‘Which of the nine spies I planted in the Albrecht family do you trust? Aren’t you curious whose information has been falsified?’”
“Huh? Spies?”
“My life is on the line. I’m counting on you.”
Lize’s eyes lit up with determination at those words.
“Leave it to me, Miss!”
Odette smiled warmly at her.
“Once it’s done, don’t come back to the mansion until the Founding Festival is over. Take a rest at your family home.”
“Gasp! Are you giving me vacation time? I’ll make sure to succeed, Miss!”
As she watched the departing carriage pass beyond the outer wall, Odette looked down at her shoes.
“I’ve gained something truly precious.”
They had protected her feet for so long in her past life.
“Prisoner, your personal belongings.”
When her tongue was cut out and she was dragged like livestock by a guard, someone had bribed the palace guards a huge sum to sneak those shoes in.
“Back then, I thought maybe it was Father or Mother… out of guilt.”
She only realized the truth while scrounging in the slums. Running from Transcendents had made shoes a luxury not worth thinking about.
But while among the beggar gangs, Odette learned just how expensive these shoes were for commoners.
“Why did you give me something so precious, Lize? To someone who wouldn’t even remember it was you?”
As the carriage vanished completely from sight, Odette quietly murmured.
In her previous life, Lize was murdered right after gifting the shoes. Odette would never get the real answer to that question.
With a long sigh, she slowly turned around.
The beautiful garden came into view.
The fountain in the center bubbled gently, and the leaves of the tulip trees shimmered in the sunlight.
The spring breeze made the leaves whisper like flowing water. The soft earth underfoot and the fragrant air wrapped her gently.
Just yesterday, she had been dying alone in the dry, dusty wind. The contrast was almost surreal.
But Odette shook her head. There was no time to drown in emotions like sorrow, regret, or loss from her past life.
It was nearly time for her mother to wake.
Odette was not allowed to walk around the mansion freely, nor leave it alone. The key to breaking those restraints lay in the underground prison.
“So I need to be thrown in there. Preferably by Mother’s own hand.”
Calculating the possibilities, Odette walked with elegance.
“I wonder if Mother will notice me.”
The Albrecht gardens were said to be the most beautiful in the capital. The Countess had a habit of looking out over this paradise first thing every morning.
Her bedroom overlooked the lily-of-the-valley garden she personally cultivated. At its center stood her private white swing.
Odette sat on that swing and looked up at the Countess’s window.
Sure enough, her mother opened it to enjoy the view.
“Mother!”
Odette smiled brightly at her stunned mother. When she raised her hand and waved, the Countess’s face turned ashen—like the garden itself had been polluted by Odette’s presence.
“I hope you’re thoroughly sickened. May this be the worst morning of your life.”
Odette beamed with delight.
A man exited the hallway from the torture chamber, removing his bloodied leather gloves with care.
Despite the stench of torture, he now appeared the very image of a perfect nobleman.
His name was Xion Reinhardt von Kleist. The current watchdog of the Imperial family.
With silver hair and violet eyes, he was strikingly handsome. But his eerie, bloodstained smile made him look like a demon.
“Master.”
The butler waiting outside handed him a towel. Xion wiped himself down gracefully.
Though standing nearly 190cm, his proportions made him look more like a sleek silver panther than a man.
“Anything to report, Alfredo?”
“Actually, Odette Rina von Albrecht has requested an audience.”
Xion froze mid-motion.
“That woman?”
With a look of disbelief, he bit down on his cigar. Just hearing her name was disgusting.
“Lady Albrecht, why are you at the ball?”
“Get away from me! You can’t speak to me directly without going through my brother! I am not allowed to speak with you.”
“Victor—are you running away? Damn it. I’m sick of seeing how pathetic your act is!”
It was strange. Transcendents were meant to be drawn to Purifiers by divine design. Yet everything about her repulsed him.
Despite being a Purifier, she had never once answered the desperate pleas of a Transcendent.
And then there were those daily reports… filled with disgusting, fabricated atrocities.
“Refuse her. You know I hate that woman.”
He couldn’t understand why his butler even bothered relaying the message. As someone holding both titles—Imperial Watchdog and S-rank Transcendent—he didn’t meet with mere civilians.
“It’s just…” Alfredo began cautiously.
“She said this: ‘Which of the nine spies I planted in the Albrecht family do you trust? Aren’t you curious whose intel has been forged?’ …That was the message.”
Xion’s cigar was crushed between his teeth at her brazen, arrogant request for a private meeting.
“…I believe you may need to meet with her, sir.”
A hollow laugh escaped Xion’s lips. Alfredo, knowing it was the kind of laugh Xion only made when furious, bowed his head even lower.
