TDFL 24

~Chapter 24~

I didn’t give him a chance to think and pressed forward.

“I went to see the Count because there was money to collect, and he told me to get it from you and gave me this address.”

“W-what… how could that be…?”

I deliberately plopped down across from Spencer with a clumsy gait.

“But do you really think the Count told only me that?”

Spencer inhaled sharply at my words.

“There must be more than just one or two people who borrowed money from the Count.”

Spencer tried to keep his mouth shut, but inside, he probably agreed with me. The Green Count was exactly that kind of man.

‘Even so, it’s all lies.’

The Green Count hadn’t abandoned Spencer yet.

He believed that Spencer could handle the mess he had caused this time.

If he failed, all responsibility would fall on Spencer, and he would be buried, figuratively speaking.

“Please, spare me! I… I don’t have any money left! Everything I’ve earned from sponsorships, my house, all of it was taken by Count Green!”

“So?”

“Just spare me, and I’ll do anything. I’ll find the money somehow…”

“You’ll find the money? How exactly?”

“Since you say that without a plan, I can take it as you disrespect me, right?”

Spencer’s face went pale.

Seeing him about to faint, I realized I needed to shift the mood a bit.

“I’m personally curious about something.”

“Anything, ask away!”

“Why did you plagiarize someone else’s painting?”

I crossed my legs arrogantly and added,

“Even just the money you’ve earned selling your own paintings should have been enough to live on comfortably.”

“…Count Green demanded constant new works. The paintings for this auction, especially, had to be exceptional. If I couldn’t deliver what he wanted in time, he said he’d cut off all sponsorships.”

So he plagiarized because he couldn’t handle the pressure.

At that moment, Alice, who had been observing the situation, approached us.

“The painter whose work you plagiarized… committed suicide because of this incident.”

Alice’s voice was cold—almost icy.

“That painter saw your painting in the newspaper and claimed you had stolen their work.”

I, too, focused on Alice’s words, since this was the first I’d heard of it.

“But no one believed them. You’re more famous. They said there’s no way such a renowned artist would do that.”

Surprisingly, Spencer’s expression didn’t change much.

“Why is that painter’s suicide my fault?”

He said it brazenly.

“They weren’t drowning in gambling debt or ruined in business. They died over something so trivial? That’s weakness on their part.”

“What—!”

“Enough.”

I stopped Alice, who looked ready to grab Spencer by the collar and throw him across the room.

His brazenness was infuriating, but he still had a use.

“Spencer. I have a proposal for you.”

I signaled Alice with my eyes, and though she still looked furious, she called over some knights.

“Wh-what is this!?”

The knights immediately surrounded Spencer, threatening him. They didn’t draw weapons, but their presence exuded deadly intent.

“Here’s what I want you to do.”

I gestured, and one knight held Spencer down, pressing his face onto the table.

“Ugh! W-what exactly do you want me to do—”

“If you handle it properly, I’ll pay off all the debts you owe Count Green and give you a small reward.”

At the mention of money, Spencer’s eyes gleamed. Even now, money mattered most to him.

I clicked my tongue and finished speaking.

“But if this goes wrong, don’t expect to die comfortably.”

After all, Spencer’s fate was already sealed.

“Leonia. What on earth are you thinking?”

Back in the carriage, Alice asked the moment I had restored my clothes and appearance.

“Why would you offer to pay off his debt and even give him a reward?”

“That’s the only way the painter will accept my conditions.”

“You could just hire someone else and pay them to do it!”

“No. Only Spencer can do this. It has to be him.”

Even after I firmly stated this, Alice looked like she couldn’t understand.

“I know what you’re worried about. But I’ll say this once.”

I spoke as if declaring a verdict.

“Spencer will ultimately pay for his actions. He deserves it.”

Honestly, in reality, it’s not that simple. There are plenty of people who commit crimes and live comfortably.

But in this novel world, villains are bound to be punished.

“If he isn’t, I’ll personally end Spencer’s life.”

“…You don’t need to dirty your hands. Just cancel the promise of the reward.”

“He’s a gambling addict.”

Alice blinked at the sudden revelation.

“Even if you give him a reward, how long do you think it will last?”

Moreover, Spencer has the Green Count to contend with. If he gets money, he’ll likely lose it to the Count or gamble it away.

“Plus, the casino Spencer frequents is secretly operated by the Arban Dukes.”

“Leoni—”

“I don’t do things that lose me money, unless absolutely necessary.”

I smiled faintly.

Clang!

“Kyaaa!”

“Shut up! Be quiet and get out!”

Lately, Count Green’s mansion hadn’t known a quiet day.

She drank daily, shouted, and threw paintings across the room.

“You ungrateful Spencer!”

All the paintings bought at high prices were now devalued.

Moreover, because he plagiarized the work of a painter from the Kingdom of Valentin, the problem escalated.

The nobility, proud of the Empire’s art, and even the Emperor’s patience, were subtly insulted.

Of course, there was a way to turn the situation around.

Count Green had already set plans in motion to contain the problem.

First, he was trying to discover a new genius painter to replace Spencer.

Mary.

Her first work had set a record at the auction. If he could bring her under his wing, he could easily cover up the current issue.

The problem was, Mary was rejecting all of his sponsorship.

‘If I increase the sponsorship, she’ll eventually come under my control.’

Once she accepted support, she wouldn’t dare think of escaping from him.

‘And judging by the first day of the auction, Leonia seems interested in Mary’s work.’

He couldn’t allow Leonia to take Mary away from him, even if no one else tried.

It was a matter of pride.

Count Green hated Leonia Bellaci—not for her abilities, but for her independence. He despised those who clung to men, incapable of standing alone.

‘I hated seeing her cling to Marquis Regan like a leech.’

Unlike Leonia, the Marquis had always complained about his fiancée and sought her attention.

He preferred women who could enjoy a night and leave, rather than cling pitifully.

Now, he was sulking over being rejected, but Count Green understood why.

‘Why did Leonia choose the Arban Duke over him?’

Leonia hadn’t had a major conflict with the Arban Duke, so the reason had to be her.

Count Green frowned slightly.

He picked up the bottle he was holding and drank straight from it. Then, someone knocked at the door.

Annoyed that his break was interrupted, the Count went to open the door.

“What now? I told you not to disturb me.”

“I-I’m sorry! But I have to tell you this.”

The maid trembled as she spoke.

“You said to report everything related to Spencer if any news came up…”

Now that she mentioned it, he remembered giving that order.

“What is it? Another forgery?”

Spencer, already at rock bottom, could only have caused minor incidents.

“The painter Mary’s work… was stolen.”

“…What?”

“And because of that crime, they’re now in prison.”

The maid bowed and hurried away.

Left alone, the Count slumped onto the sofa, holding his forehead.

Clang!

The bottle he was holding shattered with a sharp sound.

“This… crazy… How dare they smear my face!”

What the Count didn’t realize was that someone in a desperate situation can sink not just to the bottom, but to the very depths of hell.

“I can’t take this anymore.”

Judging this, the Count got up, opened the door, and stormed out quickly.

He had been trying to handle things gently due to past ties, but now he could no longer stay idle.

The rotten fruit had to be cut out before it spoiled everything else.