🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 52
On Sunday, all eyes turned when Viktor Dumfelt stepped into the capital’s Grand Cathedral.
“Th-that’s Viktor Dumfelt?”
“He looks nothing like what I imagined!”
“No, it’s exactly the same. He really does look… like a demon.”
As Viktor walked along the carpet, a naval officer guided him to his seat. He sat near the priest.
Everyone was desperate to catch a glimpse of him, but no one valued their life so little as to dare stare directly at the great Viktor Dumfelt.
He was immaculate: a slim black tailored suit, hair slicked back with jet-black pomade, a diamond-encrusted watch, narrow-toed shoes, and a perfectly knotted tie. Not a single flaw.
Viktor sat, and the priest entered.
News that Viktor had attended a religious service spread like wildfire. Word of mouth carried it through the city, and by the time he emerged from the cathedral, reporters were already swarming his attendants for interviews.
When Viktor came out, his servants passed the requests to Blythe, who rejected them all at once.
In truth, no reporter had expected to secure an interview. The fact that Viktor Dumfelt had shown up at the cathedral was news enough.
Faith was considered a duty of royalty. But Viktor had never once taken part in a religious ceremony—because he hated being accused of acting like royalty despite not being one. That was why newspapers now buzzed with speculation that his sudden appearance at such an event must carry hidden political meaning.
When Viktor stepped into his carriage, Evan, who had joined him, spoke.
“We’ve identified the man working at the young lady’s watch shop.”
Then Evan continued, as if it were ridiculous.
“He actually went to the police station and revealed he was a Royal Police officer. Not the sort to slip up like that.”
“Why the police station?”
“Oh, apparently Miss Scarlett asked him to help track down the watchmakers she was searching for.”
Evan gave a short, amused laugh.
“Well, it isn’t new for spies to be swayed by the enemy… Anyway, his name is Hiram Peet. Second-class Royal Police.”
“……”
Evan noticed Viktor’s brow briefly furrow, then smooth again. Knowing that meant his master was displeased, Evan immediately asked:
“What shall we do?”
“If he’s a spy, arrest him.”
“Yes, understood.”
Evan bowed, disembarked, and Viktor’s carriage rolled away from the cathedral.
Scarlett had been working so intently she hadn’t even noticed the passage of time until Andrei knocked.
Unusually, Andrei was smiling. Scarlett eyed him suspiciously.
“Why that expression?”
He was normally so prickly that a smile looked out of place. But Andrei, being his usual matter-of-fact self, spoke anyway.
“They’re here.”
“Who?”
Andrei grinned.
“The four craftsmen Evil Crimson fired.”
“Wh-what?”
Scarlett shot up from her chair at the words she had been longing to hear, only to sway with dizziness from sitting too long. Andrei quickly caught her arm.
“They’re not going anywhere.”
“Right.”
Smiling, Scarlett hurried downstairs. And there they stood—elderly craftsmen.
At first their faces were grim, but when they spotted Scarlett, their expressions softened. One of them, Turner, said:
“My goodness, who’d have thought that little girl would grow this much…”
“She looks just like a blend of both your parents’ faces. In the very best way!”
At Joanna’s words, the others nodded in agreement.
Scarlett, flustered but smiling, asked,
“Did you see the advertisement?”
“Yes! The four of us all live outside the capital, so we don’t get the city papers… but somehow every copy ended up in your mailbox. Someone must have known us.”
Scarlett finally understood why they hadn’t appeared for over two weeks and nodded vigorously.
“I see. I never imagined you’d all be outside the capital. How strange… who could it have been?”
While she marveled, the four old colleagues, reunited at last, were already chattering away like excited children.
“Whoever it was, I’m grateful.”
“Maybe someone who knew the late master and mistress?”
“Still, Evil may have caused this, but our young lady is the one trying to fix it!”
“Of course we’ll help. It’s been so long since I worked my craft, I’m nervous.”
“Bah, let me handle the work. You can just watch.”
Hearing their hearty banter, Scarlett’s face lit up with joy. She glanced at Andrei, as if to share the moment, but he looked distracted by other worries.
The returned craftsmen generously shared their knowledge with Scarlett. And if Evil Crimson sued her, they promised to testify that Scarlett was telling the truth.
On top of that, Tom and Anna from Factory No. 1, along with Sten, joined them. Scarlett could not have asked for a stronger support.
Life at the watch shop went on as usual: Andrei managed the store, and Scarlett made watches.
Even amidst the busyness, Scarlett kept up her studies on airplanes. Yet without proper schooling, it was nearly impossible for her to invent new mechanisms. Self-study had its limits.
Whenever she hit a wall, her longing to attend school only grew stronger.
Driven by her ambitions, she had been staying up nearly every night. But one evening, for the first time since opening the shop, she finished her work early enough before Andrei’s shift ended.
Recently, Andrei—who had always seemed free of worldly worries—had started looking troubled. Scarlett stood up to see him off and maybe ask what was wrong. But just then, a loud crash thundered from downstairs.
“Andrei! What’s going on—”
Startled, Scarlett dashed down the stairs—then froze.
A masked intruder stood facing off against Andrei. Hearing her steps, Andrei spoke without looking back.
“Boss, please go back upstairs.”
Scarlett clapped both hands over her mouth, trembling. Her legs refused to move. Andrei clicked his tongue.
“It’s fine.”
Fine? How could he say that in this situation?
The masked man lunged. Andrei blocked the punch with precision and swept his opponent’s legs. But the man was no amateur.
Scarlett, dazed, watched as the two fought carefully to avoid breaking anything. A stray thought crossed her mind: Are all men really this good at fighting?
But Andrei soon overpowered his foe. In the end, he had the man pinned on the floor, choking him until the intruder went limp. Pulling off the mask, Andrei froze.
It was a young nobleman, barely out of boyhood.
“Damn it.”
Andrei realized immediately—the target hadn’t been Scarlett, but himself. And sure enough, the shop door swung open and in strode Viktor in his uniform.
He marched over, struck Andrei’s face without warning, and twisted his arm behind his back, slamming him against the wall. The sheer force left even Andrei stunned—it was like a grown man against a child.
Viktor fished a notebook from Andrei’s coat pocket and opened it.
Scarlett, rushing over to stop him, asked in a trembling voice,
“What is that?”
“Don’t you know?”
Viktor held out a badge tucked inside the notebook.
[Second-Class Royal Police, Hiram Peet]
Scarlett looked up at him.
“Hiram Peet? Who’s that?”
“You’re asking me about an employee you hired and kept?”
“They’re saying he’s Royal Police. But Andrei isn’t one.”
With his forehead pressed to the wall, Andrei groaned, pained by his broken arm.
“No, it’s true… I am Royal Police—ugh!”
Viktor twisted his arm harder, and Andrei collapsed into unconsciousness from the agony.
Scarlett hurriedly shoved Viktor away from him.
“What are you doing?!”
“You keep asking the questions I should be asking.”
“Something’s wrong. Andrei really…”
If Isaac was the one she trusted most in the world, then Andrei was second. He wasn’t just an employee, but someone she leaned on more than anyone.
He had always said he wanted to see her shop grow big, that her watches had limitless potential. So it couldn’t be true.
“It really can’t be…” Scarlett whispered weakly.
Moments later, Viktor’s men carried away both Andrei and the unconscious nobleman.
The watch shop was left with only Scarlett and Viktor.
