Chapter 86

"Oh, I forgot to mention there's a hunting dog in the room."

The inspector's face darkened at Leon's flimsy excuse. Could it be that despite his bulldog appearance, he's afraid of dogs? It seemed he had inadvertently found an excuse to drive away the unwelcome guest.

"Who keeps a hunting dog in their office?"

His tone was quite displeased. It seemed he thought the dog had been set loose to chase him away.

"Don't worry. I'll hold it tightly."

The inspector, his pride wounded by being treated as a coward, stood with his arms crossed at the door, glaring at Leon. Leon smiled and walked past him to the desk.

"Bella, be quiet."

As Winston sat down, he suddenly reached under the desk with both hands. Grace thought he was going to cover her mouth, but instead, he grabbed the collar of her blouse.

Rip. The fabric tore, and the few remaining buttons were ripped off. It was a warning: if she dared to appear before another man in such a state, she would be exposed.

While glaring at the unseen face, Grace's blouse was roughly pulled off and stuffed into her mouth.

Leon, having silenced the woman, pulled up the leash. A sturdy metal chain, the kind used for fierce dogs, appeared on the desk, and the inspector's face grew even darker as he scanned the room.

"Sit down."

He offered the chair opposite the desk, but the inspector did not comply. Instead, he slowly circled the room and abruptly opened the door next to the entrance. His back, as he checked the bathroom, looked hesitant.

A retired detection dog. He doesn't even realize the woman I'm looking for is just behind a thin wooden wall.

The inspector was quite stubborn. It seemed he intended to thoroughly search the office, which offered few hiding places. The inspector, who was examining the bookshelf as if looking for a secret compartment, moved further into the room.

Two more steps. Then the woman under the desk would be visible.

Leon kicked the chain that dangled from the woman's ankle, making a loud clinking sound. He leaned down toward the desk, pretending to calm a struggling dog while caressing the half-naked woman.

"Bella, no. You can't bite people."

The inspector, who had been approaching, hesitated.

"A while ago, she tried to kill an intruder who entered the annex. Of course, I killed him first."

Leon smiled as he lifted his head. The inspector, still with some pride, did not demand the dog be sent away but pretended to look around and then slowly retreated.

The inspector's face was grim as he sat across the desk, having failed to find the woman. Leon held the leather strap of the leash in his hand, but the inspector was staring at something else.

A woman's button that had fallen in front of the cigar box.

What kind of evidence could that be? Leon's smile faded as he realized what might be inside the cigar box where the button was.

That box.

The letter commanding the woman to die.

And the capsule of arsenic.

Damn.

"Would you like a cigar?"

Leon pretended to offer the cigar box to the inspector. Outwardly calm, he was not inside.

The box sent by Little Jimmy was still in place, but it was too early to relax.

Leon first took out a cigar and offered it to the inspector. When the inspector refused, Leon put the cigar back and took out the small box.

He hid the box in his palm, out of the inspector's sight, and opened it with his thumb. The letter was still folded as he had left it, and the poison capsule was in its place.

Leon put on a faint smile and placed the box in his jacket pocket.

"I didn't invite you here for idle chat. Since you're not hiding your purpose beyond a simple inspection, I can't help but be curious about your business."

Leon, already knowing the purpose, pretended to feel genuinely threatened and acted accordingly. The inspector, resting his chin on his interlocked hands, stared at him persistently and spoke without hesitation.

"I received a tip."

"A tip... Please tell me."

Grace, though unaware of the situation, felt suffocated by the tension that seeped under the desk.

Her hands were not tied, and she could easily remove the cloth from her mouth, but there was no reason for her to provoke Winston.

Until she heard the stranger's words.

"The captain is hiding a rebel in the torture chamber. She is a woman."

A mocking sound came from the desk.

"The army hasn't been informed, and he uses her privately. That's the tip."

Grace's heart raced.

'The inspector is here for me.'

Grace quickly made a decision. She would go out, no matter how exposed she was. It was a clear and perhaps the only chance to escape Winston's grasp.

"So, does this tip seem accurate to you?"

"If you hand over the rebel now, your punishment will be lighter."

"It's an appealing offer, but unfortunately, I don't have any rebels to hand over."

The two men engaged in a battle of nerves over the rebel.

"Jealousy is a swarm of black flies that infest the stomach of the competent. The stench of jealousy is as foul as the smell of a decaying corpse. It's surprising that a capable inspector like you didn't catch that smell from a baseless tip."

Baseless? How ridiculous.

Grace, listening to the conversation, slowly and quietly spat out the blouse she had in her mouth.

Whether she screamed, ran out, or even hit the desk, she could cause a commotion that couldn't be blamed on a dog.

Had he already read her mind? The rough sole of a boot lightly pressed on Grace's ankle.

'Break it or do it without being caught if you can.'

But after missing several opportunities, Grace decided to be cautious.

Wait for the right moment. When he becomes careless.

"Well, the stench... I smelled it in the captain's attitude toward me today."

Leon nodded in agreement.

"If my attitude was rude, I apologize. I heard rumors that you stir up trouble. That made me a bit more on edge."

"There's no reason to be on edge if there's nothing to hide."

"The world is such that if there's nothing to hide, it will be created."

Just like his employer.

"I'll tell the VIP that the report will be submitted soon, and I hope you can wait a few more days."

The inspector's eyes narrowed.

"I don't understand what you mean."

He seemed genuinely confused. Leon lifted the first page of the report, with the name Sinclair prominently displayed, but the inspector's expression did not change.

It was amusing.

The inspector, unaware of the king's true intentions, was pressuring Leon. He acted as if he knew everything, completely oblivious to the stench of corruption in the royal suppression of civilians.

How laughable.

Leon smiled and moved his hand, hidden under the desk.

'Oh...'

Grace held her breath. The black hole in the center of the square metal piece stared at her.

The barrel of a gun.

Grace froze as the gun was pointed at her face.

Perhaps distracted by the conversation, the boot pressing on her ankle loosened, and she tried to scream and run out. She moved her hand, but it touched nothing, and she made no sound.

But as soon as she started to move, Winston, who had been holding the leash, moved his hand. He pulled out a gun from under the chair and aimed it, all in a sudden, without any warning.

His thumb, resting on the hammer of the gun, slowly pulled it back, preparing to fire.

Grace's face drained of color as she realized this was not a simple threat.

"Bella. Stay. Sit."

He covered the sound of the hammer clicking with a fierce voice. Grace, unable to look away from the gun that would fire a bullet into her head if the trigger was pulled, was terrified.

Would he kill her rather than let her be taken?

Her belief that this man would never kill her shattered.

Another hand suddenly reached under the desk. It grabbed her wet hair and pulled her between the man's legs.

Leon pressed his hand over the woman's mouth, who was now leaning against his thigh. He drew the carotid artery on her neck with the gun barrel, and the woman trembled like a leaf. He felt a thrill.

How long had it been since this arrogant woman was so terrified?

Suddenly, the woman began to grope between his legs.

How vulgar.

Leon enjoyed her silent, desperate plea for mercy with a relaxed smile.

'Grace, it's a blank gun.'

Leon, holding the woman at bay with a toy-like gun, smiled at the inspector.

It was like catching two dogs with one blank gun.

The inspector, it seemed, misunderstood the clinking sound and Leon's hand movements under the desk as calming a struggling dog. When the fierce dog moved, he could not hide his discomfort and even loosened his legs, ready to run if necessary.

The incompetent detection dog in front of him and the fox-like mongrel in his hands were equally laughable.

"Do you like dogs?"

"..."

"I do. Especially hunting dogs. The fiercer, the better. It's fun to train them."

Leon laughed, recalling the things the woman had done before she was tamed, willing to take his penis into her mouth if he unbuttoned his pants.