TMLO 23

Chapter: 23

“What is that bitch even saying? Father, arrest those bastards right now! How dare they say that to me—!”

Tickle was so enraged that he couldn’t even spare a glance for Duke Summerhilde. His eyes were completely bloodshot.

Well, after what had happened yesterday, there was no way he could think rationally.

Before Tickle could even finish speaking, the count sprang to his feet and slapped Tickle hard across the face.

The blow was so fierce it made a sound like flesh tearing through the air.

“F-Father…?”

Tickle stared at him in shock, but Count Matek bowed his head toward us instead.

“I sincerely apologize. This is entirely my failure in educating my child. That foolish boy knows nothing about the family business. I will discipline him properly and ensure something like this never happens again. Please, I ask for your forgiveness.”

“Father, what are you—! No, I—!”

“Silence! How dare you cause a scene in front of the Duke! And spreading groundless rumors on top of that!”

Under the chilling pressure radiating from Count Matek, Tickle shut his mouth and glared at me.

“I can’t even stand the sight of you! Get out. Now!”

“Father!”

“Did you not hear me? Get out at once!”

Even as Tickle continued to glare daggers at me, he couldn’t defy his father’s command.

As soon as Tickle left the room, Count Matek bowed again.

“I will properly discipline my useless son. So, Your Grace, I ask that you clear this misunderstanding. There is no evidence, and it’s hardly something that requires Your Grace’s direct involvement.”

Duke Summerhilde leaned back in his chair, as though the very conversation annoyed him.

“Yes, I understand your situation, Count. And I do trust you.”

“Then…!”

“However, once such words reach my ears, I cannot simply ignore them. Since you claim it’s a misunderstanding on both sides, wouldn’t it be appropriate to conduct at least a formal investigation?”

“Pardon?”

“Are you suggesting that I should simply take your word for it and leave?”

“Of course not! I would never dare—! That was absolutely not my intention.”

Count Matek’s thoughts were obvious.

There was no way they’d find any evidence. He would simply feign ignorance and let it blow over.

“Then we will send an official investigation team from our ducal house.”

“W-Wait, Your Grace. You mean the Summerhilde Ducal House will investigate directly?”

Count Matek asked, his body trembling.

“Yes. Is there a problem?”

“To be honest, we find that somewhat uncomfortable. We would prefer a neutral third party—someone unrelated to this matter…”

“Are you saying you don’t trust me?”

Duke Summerhilde stared him down.

“I—I apologize! But this is a very sensitive issue for us as well…!”

Count Matek bowed repeatedly, refusing to back down even as he groveled.

The duke spoke as though granting great magnanimity.

“Very well. Then we’ll entrust this matter to an unrelated third party.”

“In that case, I will—”

Relief flickered across Count Matek’s face. He thought he’d bought himself time.

But Duke Summerhilde cut him off and turned to me.

“Given how things have turned out, may I ask you for a favor, Duchess Valfruga?”

“W-Wait! Duchess Valfruga is connected to Your Grace—!”

Suddenly, Duke Summerhilde kicked the table.

Bang!

The solid wooden table toppled over with a deafening crash.

“Count Matek, are you going to keep saying no to this and no to that? I believe I’ve been more than accommodating to your circumstances.”

The duke snapped irritably.

Standing before Duke Summerhilde—who was nearly twice his size—Count Matek looked pitifully small.

“B-But…”

“This is merely a formality. At most, it’ll take half a day. Yet you object at every turn. Wouldn’t that only make things more suspicious? Besides, Valfruga has conducted more business with you than I have—she should be more familiar with your affairs. Don’t you think I’ve already shown you considerable leniency?”

“I-I-I apologize! I wasn’t thinking clearly!”

Count Matek hurriedly bowed his head.

He was no silver-tongued speaker who could sway Duke Summerhilde with a few clever words.

Faced with the duke’s relentless pressure, Count Matek had no choice but to accept our investigation.

Unlike how he groveled before the duke, Count Matek lifted his chin and looked down at me.

It was an unmistakably condescending gaze.

“Very well. It seems we have no choice. I hope the investigation concludes smoothly—and that our contract with House Valfruga will also be concluded without issue.”

He emphasized the word contract.

He was referring to the sale of hardened steel—the original reason we’d come to his estate.

If Count Matek were ruined by corruption charges, we would be ruined as well for selling to him.

He was making it very clear: even if we found something, we were expected to handle it… appropriately.

“Good. Since the count has agreed, I’ll be counting on you, Duchess. Do you have someone suitable in mind?”

Duke Summerhilde’s eyes gleamed as he looked at me.

But what Count Matek failed to calculate was this—

I no longer had any desire to sell hardened steel to House Matek.

From the moment he accepted the duke’s proposal, and from the moment we were entrusted with the investigation, everything had been proceeding exactly as planned.

I smiled brightly and spoke, just as we had agreed beforehand.

“I have the perfect person!”

I clapped my hands and pointed to Treon, who was standing behind us.

“He’s my butler—extremely capable and very smart. He was even scouted by His Majesty ten years ago!”

“Oh? Valfruga has such talent? Then, Duchess, would you be willing to lend me your butler for a short while?”

“Of course!”

Count Matek’s gaze shifted—like someone looking at a well-trained dog.

“Count Matek, do you consent?”

When Duke Summerhilde asked, Count Matek nodded without hesitation.

“Yes. At this point, we would like nothing more than to clear this injustice as quickly as possible.”

Naturally.

After all, the target was someone his son had tormented for ten years—without even allowing him to scream properly.

How amusing he must have found it.

But they underestimated Treon.

* * *

Treon, accompanied by the duke’s knights, searched Count Matek’s castle without hesitation.

For better or worse, he had been coming and going from this estate for ten years.

He knew the castle’s layout as well as his own home—even with his eyes closed.

Treon headed straight for Tickle Matek’s office.

Tickle followed him, but Treon didn’t bother stopping him.

He simply did what he came to do.

He rifled through the documents on the desk, pulled out every drawer, and dumped them onto the floor.

Books were yanked from the shelves and thrown down at random. Cushions neatly arranged on the sofa were torn apart.

Wherever Treon passed, the room was left in utter ruin—as though a thief had broken in.

Tickle was not the kind of man who would tolerate someone he considered beneath him rummaging through his private space.

And when Treon reached for the liquor cabinet Tickle prized so dearly, Tickle finally screamed.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Treon lifted a bottle and asked calmly,

“Doing what?”

“What? What?! Are you trying to start something?!”

Treon uncorked the bottle and splashed the liquor onto Tickle.

“You—!”

“Hm. Nothing hidden inside the bottle. It’s a well-known trick, after all. Just in case, check every bottle thoroughly.”

At Treon’s order, the knights began smashing the bottles against the window.

Glass shattered, and the liquor spilled out onto the ground outside.

Watching his treasured collection be destroyed in real time, Tickle completely lost it.

“You little bastard…!”

When Tickle grabbed Treon by the collar, one of the knights stepped forward.

Treon raised a hand, stopping him.

“Let go, Lord Tickle. I am conducting a lawful investigation under the Duke’s orders. Are you refusing to comply with the Duke’s command?”

At the mention of the duke, Tickle’s face turned bright red.

His raised fist trembled violently.

But in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to strike Treon.

When Tickle’s fist dropped, Treon shoved him aside and calmly straightened his disheveled clothes.

“Hah. Do you really think you’ll find any evidence no matter how hard you search? It’s useless. Without proof, even Duke Summerhilde can’t punish my father—or your master.”

“Why wouldn’t I be able to find evidence?”

Treon walked toward the fireplace.

No… That can’t be.

Tickle’s heart began to pound.

There was a hidden safe inside that fireplace.

As if mocking his hope, Treon pressed the decorations near the hearth in a precise sequence.

Click. Clack.

With the sound of hidden mechanisms activating, the fireplace slowly rotated.

Treon lifted a thick bundle of documents and scanned them.

A satisfied smile spread across his face.

“You—You bastard!”

Tickle lunged forward, but this time the knights blocked him.

“You—you son of a bitch! How do you know about that?!”

“Isn’t the world a funny place? You might not remember. But wasn’t this activated back when I was lying there beaten senseless by you?”

“What nonsense are you spouting?!”

Treon chuckled, as though he’d expected that answer.

“Of course. You don’t remember. I figured as much. You never once thought someone like me could get back at you. That’s why you were stupid enough to act so carelessly in front of me.”

“Y-You…!”

Tickle thrashed violently, but he couldn’t break free from the knight’s iron grip.

“If you want to hit me, go ahead. I’ll simply report to the Duke that you interfered with the investigation.”

“You and that bitch! Hiding behind House Summerhilde’s protection and running wild without knowing your place! You think that makes you—!”