I Just Needed Someone to Hate - Episode 7.2

He tried to find reasons, to rationalize, but the answer was obvious. The reason he couldn’t pull the trigger this dawn might have been because her face, so noble as she begged him, was utterly to his taste. Maybe that’s why he needed a reason.

A reason not to interfere or become entangled in her seemingly complicated life.

It was ridiculous that it all came down to him lusting after her.

Killing her would eliminate the threat cleanly, but as always, this life, where every day was no different from the last, would be safe but also numb.

So, you mustn’t disappear into a paradise without me, comfortably, in exchange for that brief pain. Eternal rest was the greatest favor he could bestow. He wasn’t a generous man in that regard.

Edmund scanned Vivianne’s swollen eyes, then rose and kissed her. The salty taste spreading in his mouth made him want to leave to kill any unnecessary thoughts, but Vivianne buried her head in his chest and made snuffling sounds.

Edmund lowered himself back down, and as he lay down, he bent his well-shaped fingers and stroked Vivianne’s cheek as if she were something cute. In the darkness, his vivid eyes held her.

He was pleased that she came into his arms like this. He was quite willing, and things like how to make her come to him even before he called her, so that she would do the same later, filled his mind thickly.

❖ ❖ ❖

The officers lingering in front of the villa where Vivianne was staying had no choice but to turn back after knocking on the door a few times when she was away.

First, her legal guardians did not agree to track her down, and the only basis for considering this a kidnapping was the claim of her fiancé.

By the time they came out of the mansion and patrolled the surrounding area, Vivianne had long since left for Mirabolta Street, the underworld of the capital, so there were no results.

Sergeant Wilson had no choice but to escort Ludwig Rex back to the Senate Speaker’s residence, bowing his head repeatedly.

Unlike his personality, Ludwig smiled handsomely and simply replied, “What can you do? The officer did his best.”

Sergeant Wilson, relieved that nothing serious had happened, greeted him and expressed his intention to leave, when the man spoke again in front of the residence.

“Is the Commissioner General of the Central Police Agency doing well?”

The corporal standing next to Sergeant Wilson glanced at him.

It was unlikely to be welcome news to suddenly ask about his distant superior. It couldn’t have been a question without any intention, considering the other party was the second son of the Chief Justice of the country.

Sergeant Wilson replied to the inscrutable man.

“Yes. Thanks to the Speaker’s care.”

“Thanks to, huh.”

The man smiled, raising one corner of his mouth. His seemingly affable gaze soon fixed on Sergeant Wilson.

“If you say that, wouldn’t people misunderstand?”

Misunderstand what?

Was there anyone in this business who didn’t know about the collusion between the Speaker of the House of Lords and the executives of the Central Police Agency of the capital?

Unlike the people in the local police, even the officers who pretended not to collude with the underworld were endlessly lenient in front of the Speaker of the House of Lords.

Sergeant Wilson, who didn’t want to be isolated from the group by pretending to be clean, nor did he want to actively get on the bandwagon, knew that fact but didn’t know it, and didn’t know it but knew it.

But now, the son of the Speaker of the House of Lords was bringing up that guideline, which had only remained implicit, right in front of him.

It was obvious that it would be better not to get involved in this case of the tyrant looking for his fiancée, but why now?

The young master said.

“I didn’t mean to trouble you, Sergeant Wilson. You’re too rigid.”

His stiff expression must have been obvious.

If he could have remained conventional with that smiling face, he wouldn’t still be a sergeant. When he first joined this organization, he thought he would get promoted quickly if he just caught rotten bastards like him, but it was the opposite. If he was disliked by that bastard, he was done for.

He must be in his late twenties.

He was much younger than him, patting him on the shoulder as if he were a subordinate.

“Could you do me a favor?”

Sergeant Wilson knew very well that it was close to an order.

Son of a bitch. He cursed inwardly, but answered appropriately, “Yes.”

“I’d like to talk more about my missing fiancée. I was wondering if you could spare some time when your superiors are free.”

I knew it.

“I’ll pass on the message.”

“Good. Then, goodbye.”

The hand that had been patting his shoulder gripped his epaulette tightly one last time, then fell away. The red eyes that scanned him flashed like those of a beast, then his gaze was withdrawn as he turned his head.

If his fiancée ran away even though his face was so handsome, it was obvious. He couldn’t hide his terrible personality from her.

Anyway, he was already feeling overwhelmed by the task of having to take the blame and bring the Commissioner General here at this early hour.

If he brought a rank of inspector or so by tomorrow morning, according to the manual, he would be told that he couldn’t do his job.

As the young master of the House of Lords family, who had been moving forward, turned his head, Sergeant Wilson bowed deeply. Seeing that, Rex, the rascal, chuckled and walked forward. His gaze, filled with the air of ridiculing him as if he were nothing, was still vivid.

What a bastard, really.

In sentimental words, where there is darkness in the world, there is light on the other side.

The Chief Justice’s residence of the capital was brightly lit even in the darkness. The Gothic-style building, which was once a prestigious high-ranking noble’s residence, felt majestic when combined with the modern lights.

But the three people inside the salon were too preoccupied with other thoughts to be captivated by its beauty.

This subtle tension mixed with the winter air. A chilling silence lingered as the car stopped.

“We’ve arrived, Commissioner General.”

It was Sergeant Wilson in the driver’s seat who spoke. The corporal in the passenger seat shifted his gaze to Sergeant Wilson.

He was wondering if he should open the door now. Then, a low voice came from the back seat.

“Sergeant Wilson.”

“Yes.”

“No one else knows I’m here, right? For example, the Prime Minister or the people at the Criminal Intelligence Bureau.”

A subtle energy lingered at the end of his words. The corporal in the passenger seat held his breath. The Commissioner General’s bitter voice followed.

“The gossip that I came all the way here in the middle of the night to clean up after the son of the Speaker of the House of Lords.”

“The inspector who sent me assured me that you don’t have to worry about that.”

“I see.”

With the Commissioner General’s words, Sergeant Wilson gave a look to the corporal in the passenger seat. The corporal got out of the car, quickly opened the back door, and bowed politely.

“I’ll guide you.”

The Commissioner General’s shoes stepped onto the grounds of the Speaker of the House of Lords’ residence.

Sergeant Wilson took the lead. The corporal walking in step with his partner had a face that looked like he was about to suffocate.

The reason their distant superior had come was this: if the task of finding Vivianne Mergoville had not been completed at the level of the subordinates, then he, the chief of the police agency, would have to face Ludwig Rex.

It was rumored that Inspector Dinkel was a man who liked to pour drinks at the reception for the Speaker of the House of Lords, and this confirmed it. Even though he was corrupt, he was still his superior, but why would he make him, who could barely look him in the eye, serve him at this late hour, saying, “Good call.”

The group led by Sergeant Wilson walked through the complex corridors of the residence for quite some time. Their guide was, bizarrely, the song of a woman coming from the radio.

The one calling them was a woman who was once the mistress of the Speaker’s son.

Janet Bell Watkins, was it?

The woman had performed in several concerts hosted by the royal family, so there was nothing strange about a cabaret singer appearing on the radio.

What was strange was the voice, so heartbreakingly mournful.

‘The Speaker’s son was a strong suspect in the assault case of Janet Watkins, but he was acquitted because of Watkins’ consistent testimony.’

So, the case ended with a non-prosecution. People who knew the truth said that the cabaret singer had given up before even fighting.

The police agency of Daatro, which monopolized the right to investigate and prosecute in the Empire, was close to the Speaker of the House of Lords, so there was no other way but to do so.

But it was strange to think of that voice, begging the listener to come back. Everyone here knew very well that Janet Watkins had only one man.

The one who beat her to death.

…But you know.

As the room that was the source of the sound got closer, Sergeant Wilson stopped in front of the door and looked at the Commissioner General behind him.

When he nodded with a stiff face, Sergeant Wilson knocked on the door. Soon, the sound of footsteps was heard, and someone opened the door.

What unfolded before their eyes was a breathtakingly luxurious room. From the chandelier on the ceiling to the tassels on the canopy of the bed. It seemed that nothing was made carelessly.

All the liqueurs placed on the side table were top-notch.

In the center was Rex, the young master they were looking for.

Thanks to his beautiful appearance, which had blinded the leading cabaret singer in the Empire, it was not difficult to find him. Among them, his platinum blonde hair was a striking feature. The beautiful young man, wearing a vest and waistcoat, had his back to them, gripping a golf club grip tightly in his hand, with the club’s collar resting on his shoulder.

In front of him, gasping for breath while clutching his side, was Councilor Eastwell, a member of the Imperial Judicial Appeals Committee.

In other words, an Imperial Supreme Court Justice was prostrating himself before someone who was young enough to be his son. That might have seemed strange, but he was the young master of the Rex family.

His father was the head of the Imperial Judicial Committee, which functioned as the Supreme Court in this country, and the Speaker of the House of Lords.

The story that the Speaker of the House of Lords had replaced several judges to his liking was famous. Unlike his reputation, he was a cunning old man who liked to pretend to be noble all by himself, so it was obvious that he had created his second son, the rascal, and was standing behind him with his hands behind his back.

“An agent from the Intelligence Bureau was running around with some damn cane that I don’t know where he got it from.”

Ludwig Rex said, looking down at Councilor Eastwell, as if he had been in the middle of a conversation.

“So, this is what it tastes like?”

Next to him, an aide walked over and whispered something. Ludwig’s gaze turned to the door.

He was probably telling him that the Commissioner General of the police agency had arrived. When Ludwig threw the golf club on the floor, Councilor Eastwell, who was kneeling on the floor, flinched.

“Escort Councilor Eastwell out.”

At his voice, the aide bowed his head and gestured to the guards. Well-built men forcibly lifted Councilor Eastwell and passed by Wilson’s group.

The Commissioner General’s gaze moved to Ludwig Rex’s hand. As if God had only put effort into his face when creating that demon, his well-shaped fingers came into view. The veins bulging on his delicate back of his hand looked menacing.

He had heard that he had been hit in the side by an agent who was with his fiancée, and that his ribs were fractured, but he looked perfectly fine in a few days.

“Would you like a drink?”

Ludwig Rex gestured vaguely to the side table in the distance. Behind it, the cabinet was filled with various rare liquors.

“No, thanks.”

The Commissioner General said, struggling to suppress the disgust rising in his throat.

“I don’t plan to stay long.”

“I also like to get straight to the point.”

Ludwig Rex smiled, pulling up one corner of his mouth, and walked past the Commissioner General. When Ludwig’s aide and the Commissioner General’s eyes met, the aide gestured with his chin, signaling him to follow Ludwig.

Whether he knew what was happening behind him or not, Ludwig Rex’s voice, endlessly calm amidst the silent war of nerves, interjected.

“Isn’t this greeting too late, considering you’ve been racking your brains with various things lately?”

Ludwig Rex, who had turned his head, cast a glance over his shoulder at the Commissioner General, who was still standing in place.

His words continued with his steps.

“The Central Police Agency of the capital, I mean. I heard that it’s now being pushed back by the Criminal Intelligence Bureau, which the new Prime Minister cherishes so much. And to top it off, the public is clamoring for the police agency’s monopoly to be checked.”

“……”

“Wasn’t the capital the Commissioner General’s world to let those foolish masses have their way?”

Only then did the Commissioner General move his feet and follow Ludwig. One of the people waiting opened the door leading to the study. Ludwig’s words continued.

“I knew your son well, Commissioner General.”

The Commissioner General’s Adam’s apple bobbed. People said that the second son of the Rex family, not the first, was his father’s chess piece.

That was really true. The first son of the Rex family, whom he met at a social party, was cheerful and affable without any pretense. A straight-laced young man from a prestigious boarding school and a prestigious university. His academic background was perfect, but he was not sophisticated.

He only said things like, “I’m going on a world trip,” and “I’m going to be a photographer,” with his fiancée, who was his college classmate. He didn’t seem to have any regrets or attachments to what he was born to enjoy.

But the lion cub who had won this position was different. He would do anything to be here.

“Thomas. Tom. Tommy…”

Ludwig Rex murmured, lost in thought.

“I believe it goes without saying since he was an alumnus of Dalton Boarding School. He was sociable and friendly. Who would believe that he, after drinking heavily on Mirabolta Street, beat someone to death?”

The Commissioner General clenched his fist tightly. No one talked about Thomas in front of him. Especially not about that incident.

But the Rex family’s dog was different. His words continued.

“He must have felt like the world was his.”

There was mockery in those words.

“But as the elder must have felt himself, the Empire is now the land of the people. Those ordinary people who thought it was unreasonable to not prosecute your son, who stabbed an ordinary citizen dozens of times in the stomach, I mean.”

“……”

“If this continues, within a few decades, a royal prosecution office will be established, taking away the police agency’s right to prosecute and supervise, or the Special Investigation Committee, led by the Minister of the Interior, will bother the Commissioner General.”

As Ludwig stepped into the study, his aide quickly moved to pull out the chair next to the head seat.

Ludwig pulled out the chair at the head seat himself and sat down, then looked once at the Commissioner General, who was standing still at the entrance of the study, and once at the seat next to him.

“What do you want?”

The Commissioner General said coldly. A sadistic smile spread across Ludwig’s lips.

“There’s something I need to get back.”

“Wouldn’t it be faster to have your gangster friends do that?”

“I heard that it’s a specialty of the police agency to conduct traffic control under the pretext of inspecting minor incidents.”

“So?”

“Vivianne Mergoville.”

“……”

“I need to get my fiancée back.”

❖ ❖ ❖

-Hello.

“Vivianne, is that you?”

She answers.

Cynthia ignored the sound of footsteps going back and forth in the hallway and buried her head in the phone resting on her shoulder. She held a notebook in one hand and gripped a fountain pen tightly in the other.

“It’s Cynthia. Cynthia Eastwell.”

-Yeah. I got your mother’s call early in the morning. Thanks, but if you’re going to use that as an excuse to give me useless business advice again, I’m hanging up.

“Hey. How can you do this? I called you after thinking about you.”

When Cynthia’s voice became friendly, silence followed on the other end. It was obvious. Miss Mergoville must be like an abandoned puppy, desperate to listen to a kind voice one more time, regardless of who it came from.

Even if it was from someone who looked down on her and her family.

-Just get to the point quickly.

“How can you be so heartless? Even though we haven’t had many conversations, we’ve known each other for a long time, seeing each other at social gatherings, right? Our mothers are also close.”

-It’s 7:40 in the morning, Cynthia. People who work are probably busy, but we hereditary aristocrats don’t need to be. Oh, right, the Eastwell family is busy with business. I’m hanging up.

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