Chapter 100
He was a former reporter for the Imperial Daily.
A man who had broken countless actresses’ wings with the snake-tongued tip of his pen, and who had tried to use the actress Rozena as a scapegoat to join the Men at the Center club.
“He knowingly helped the Men at the Center even though he knew the shantytown where dozens of people, including kids, lived would be unjustly demolished.”
That scandal had gotten him fired from the Imperial Daily, and Skitter had disappeared… until now, when he was face-to-face with a witness.
The witness gulped down the beer in front of him and said,
“Well, I said everything you told me to. Do you know how difficult it was dealing with that Ardent guy—so picky, asking question after question? Now give me the money.”
“What exactly did you say?”
“I told you, I said what I was told!”
“So tell me what I told you to say.”
“Ah! You’re so fussy!”
…They didn’t look like they got along at all.
Doobu, who was making eye contact with me, sighed deeply and shook his head, then locked himself in pose like a doll when he caught the waiter’s gaze.
Meanwhile, the witness and Skitter were quietly bickering.
“It’s frustrating. You told me to confuse the investigation, to describe the suspect completely wrong. I did that, didn’t I?”
“So what exactly did you say wrong?”
“I said the opposite!”
“If you really said the opposite, just tell me what it was.”
“Ugh.”
“No money if you don’t tell me straight.”
“You asked me to find out how far the investigation went. You didn’t want to hear it, right?”
“How can I trust info from someone who doesn’t even tell me what they said?”
“I don’t know. Do as you like. Go report it if you want. There’s been a whole uproar in the Loire all day because of—”
“Shh!”
“…the beast is here.”
“Do as you please. Let’s see if you stay safe when it turns out you’re an accomplice.”
It was pure Doobu-level nonsense.
‘Skitter must be frustrated. Used to working among smart journalists, now he has to deal with an idiot like this.’
Once, successful actresses would tremble just at the sight of Skitter.
After tasting the shallow thrill of power through filthy journalist tricks, now he has to work with a stubborn, uncooperative fool—must be killing him.
That’s the karmic justice for a man with zero journalistic spirit!
A waiter placed a drink in front of me.
“Here’s your milk tea, loaded with condensed milk.”
“Thank you.”
The two, arguing over whether or not to give the money, finally noticed my presence and fell silent.
They resumed casual conversation with the waiter as if nothing had happened.
“Aren’t you worried? The whole Loire is in chaos because of the bomb.”
“I am. That’s why I’m just going to drink this and go home.”
After a long conversation, Skitter finally diverted his gaze.
“…Stand up.”
He whispered to the witness,
“Money?”
“Hah.”
Thunk.
“Should’ve done that earlier.”
Skitter tossed a leather pouch onto the table, which the witness caught.
Shaking it, the witness complained,
“It feels light.”
“The rest will be paid when it’s clear you did your job properly.”
“You’re not going to stiff me, are you?”
“Promise stands.”
“Then, the same place as last time.”
Having set the agreement, the witness and Skitter left the restaurant. I finished my milk tea in one gulp and stood.
I placed the payment on the bar table and exited.
Skitter went left, the witness went right.
I watched the thin, wiry Skitter and the relatively chubby witness, then followed…
“Ah, Mom! I told you not to touch my room!”
“You brat! How can I not touch it when there are cockroaches crawling around!”
It was the witness.
A small bakery not far away. The first floor was the bakery, the second floor seemed to be the family residence, with stairs inside and out.
The witness’s mother shouted from the second floor.
“Usually I tell you to go out, but you just hide in your room! And with all this bomb fuss, business is slow. Can’t you stay with your mom? Where are you running off to like that!”
“Mom, you don’t know anything!”
It was total chaos. I chuckled internally as I opened the bakery door.
“What are you doing here? Buying bread?”
“Yes.”
“What would you like?”
“I’ll take chou aux pommes, egg bread, banana bread, peanut bread, carp bread…”
I filled my bag until the owner was satisfied.
She smiled knowingly and asked,
“Is he your son?”
Immediately, a complaint followed.
“I can’t deal with him. My son has no sense of responsibility—doesn’t help himself at all even at his age…”
Through the mother’s words, I got the picture of the witness: an only child who spent his childhood lazing around, avoiding school and sports, chasing pretty girls, and offering them bread baked by his mother.
As an adult, he still lazes in the second-floor room every day, secretly stealing money from the bakery’s cash register when his parents aren’t looking.
“My patience is tested twelve times a day because of him!”
“Ha ha ha…”
After gathering information, I carried the bread out.
I set the bread on the railing of the external stairs going to the second floor, then reached behind the blankets and grabbed the necklace.
“Money, honor, health…”
Sorry, ma’am. I can’t fix your frustration, but I can make your son just as frustrated.
Prepare to be beaten☆
★★★★★
Magical Saint Seraphina!
Transform!
★★★★★
“Ugh, Mom really doesn’t know anything.”
The room, now clearly infested with cockroaches.
The witness had just returned from the bathroom without washing his hands and flopped onto the bed.
He looked at the portrait of actress Rozena on the ceiling, giggling to himself.
“Nope. Women like that only care about their nails, not housework. They can’t cook, clean, or do laundry. Marrying one would be useless.”
“Why would Rozena marry you?”
“…Huh?”
Hearing the voice from the window, the witness turned his head.
I, clinging to the window to avoid stepping into the filthy room, grinned.
“Hi.”
“Ma—magic…”
“Yep. A Magical Saint.”
“Momaaah…!”
Thunk!
“Why do you only come to Mom when you need her?”
“Come out for a second.”
I grabbed the witness by the collar and pulled him out the window.
“Waaahhh!”
I shook him in midair, then threw him onto the rooftop.
“Waaahhh!”
“Those who ignore their mothers must be punished!”
At the same time…
“Hmm.”
A tingling in the ears.
Ardent, the number one offender in ignoring his mother, tilted his head.
Seraphina, whom Ardent thought was a carriage driver, was reported on by his aide.
“That witness seems suspicious.”
“I think so too.”
“Shall we investigate?”
“No. I’ll go myself.”
Without hesitation, Ardent rose from his seat and asked his aide,
“Are the lodgings around the boarding house secured?”
“Yes, we released detection dogs to search. They tried to follow the smell of explosives or iron filings but found nothing.”
“Patrol regularly. Someone important lives there.”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
“Not me.”
“Then who?”
“Um, by the way…”
The aide added, “The window of Room 206, directly below Your Highness, was broken.”
“…”
Room 206 belonged to Senior Seraphina.
“We repaired the slight misalignment when we searched the building, but didn’t enter her room. We didn’t want her to notice,”
“No need to worry about that.”
The room is a pigsty; touching the window slightly leaves no trace. Ardent confirmed.
“Anyway, the owner of that room isn’t observant.”
“Is that so?”
The aide searched his pockets.
“Oh, and during the window repair, we found this in the window frame.”
He handed a pink flower petal to Ardent.
“…Found in Room 206’s window?”
“Yes.”
“…”
It was the same type of petal Seraphina scattered during the press conference about the 15 newlyweds at the Imperial Guard HQ last time.
“Seems like senior went on an errand to the greenhouse at her mansion.”
I should return it later.
…Who knows who is really not observant here.
