Chapter 90

"Didn't you investigate it?"

"The investigation or manipulation has already been completed by those above. They only told me to conduct the interrogation."

"To get a false confession."

"Yes…"

"Using the most ruthless torturer in the kingdom, or rather, in the world."

"…Tell me what I don't know."

I wonder if she thinks this is her way of revenge. The woman smiled.

"It's dirty. No, the word 'dirty' isn't enough."

Unfortunately, Leon could only agree with the rebel's words.

"Still, can you tell me such a story?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"If the revolution succeeds someday, everyone in the world will know what you told me today."

"Revolution while trapped underground. Are you planning to start an ant revolution?"

Grace glared at the man who didn't hold back his sneers and asked.

"So, what's the problem?"

If the Leon Winston she knew would handle such dirty work as ruthlessly as he would capture rebels. But to feel uneasy about it…

A monster wearing a human mask.

It's not even funny.

"Then, what's the problem…"

The man sighed and extended his hand across the table. Grace, who understood what he wanted with just a gesture, took out the cigar case from her pocket and handed it over, then shook the medal hanging from her jacket ostentatiously.

"Blood-thirsty devil."

"Even a blood-thirsty devil has his own philosophy."

The man put the cigar, cut at the end with a cutter, between his lips and lit it with a golden lighter. He drew on the cigar, letting the flame burn long, then exhaled a wisp of smoke.

"I became a soldier to capture rebels, not civilians."

He had no hobby of torturing innocent people. Moreover, he detested others using his hobby of torturing guilty people for their private gain.

"And will this really benefit me in the long run?"

Leon couldn't shake the feeling that the king had made a very dangerous move.

"Short-term benefits can be gained through false accusations…"

"There are no eternal secrets."

He nodded, tapping the cigar with his index finger to knock off the ash.

"Before being a royalist, I am a private individual named Leon Winston, and I don't like things that harm my private interests."

"Seeing that you prioritize private interests, you are indeed a royalist."

The woman's sharp observation made a wry smile appear on his lips.

"Phew… I'm relieved. I thought you had suddenly found your conscience, and my heart skipped a beat."

The woman mocked in Sally's tone, her eyes twinkling with a smile. Leon smiled along, putting the cigar in his mouth.

"Finding your conscience…"

Winstons are born with greed where conscience should be. There's no conscience to find.

But for some reason, he felt an uncomfortable sensation in his chest throughout his encounter with Geoffrey Sinclair today. He felt no different from the woman's mother, whom he despised for pushing the innocent into traps.

So, is this not conscience but private greed?

* * *

It was the first time he found the lively jazz melody so menacing. Geoffrey stared blankly at the man sitting across the table with his legs crossed.

Leon Winston.

The moment this man revealed his name here yesterday, Geoffrey sensed his fate.

I am now a dead man.

Even though he was far from the upper echelons of the military or society, he was well aware of Captain Winston's reputation and infamy.

Despite his infamous reputation as a genius and therefore the most cruel torturer, the man only asked questions persistently last night. Geoffrey, thinking it was the first stage of the interrogation, tried hard to deny all charges and persuade the captain.

He managed to get through yesterday unscathed, but he expected today to be different.

Captain Winston, who entered the interrogation room late in the morning, brought a phonograph and played the music loudly. Geoffrey despaired, thinking it was a method to prevent screams from being heard.

But the captain spent the entire morning smoking cigars and staring at the gray walls.

Is this also a form of torture?

As he quietly swallowed, the captain checked his wristwatch and stood up. The sound of the metal chair scraping against the floor made Geoffrey shudder.

"It's lunchtime."

The moment he grabbed the doorknob, he heard a deep breath from behind. Leon narrowed his eyes, finding it hard to understand why the man was so tense when he hadn't done anything.

"Have food brought in."

Leon ordered the soldier waiting outside and left the interrogation room. As he climbed the stairs toward the domestic intelligence office, he inadvertently recalled his thoughts from the morning.

The jacket was too big for the woman. Her shoulder, exposed as the jacket slipped off due to her rough movements, was marked with his bite marks. She lay on the black jacket spread out like a tablecloth, legs wide open, revealing a tempting fruit, panting.

After the lovemaking last night, as they exchanged kisses, the woman muttered to herself.

"Today is a bit strange."

Indeed. I also found myself strange last night.

The woman was like a cursed spring, no matter how much he drank, the thirst never quenched. Last night, with tension building up in his mind and body, he thought the thirst would be even worse. He thought he wouldn't let her go until the sun rose, but it was a mistake.

He felt a sense of liberation, as if he had thrown off all the burdens of his mind and body in just one time.

What was different last night?

Leon already knew the answer; he just didn't want to admit it.

Honest conversation. And unexpected empathy.

'Empathy…'

As he entered the office, he sent a wry smile to himself.

"Captain."

Campbell stood up from his seat and approached, handing him a piece of paper.

[12:30, the same restaurant as last time.]

Leon frowned at the message. He thought about refusing, saying he was too busy to have lunch, but quickly changed his mind. He knew he would meet somehow, no matter how he refused.

The waiter led Leon to the same private room as last time. As the door opened, the Duke, sitting at the table, raised his hand in greeting. The crystal glass in his hand was filled to the brim with an amber liquid.

Leon sat opposite him, pretending to check his wristwatch. It was 12:50. He had deliberately taken his time.

"I don't have time for a meal. I need to get back soon, so please get to the point."

"I didn't call you for a meal."

The Duke pushed the dessert box in front of him toward Leon.

"I called you to give you a gift."

"…"

"For your unknown mistress."

The Duke, smirking, watched as Leon opened the box. When the swan-shaped profiterole he had taken away last time appeared, the Duke raised his glass, gloating.

"Chasing rebels and falling in love. It's like a movie."

"Love…"

The captain twisted his lips in a crooked smile, mocking the Duke's words.

"Why don't you try your hand at writing novels?"

"…"

The young man, fearlessly arrogant, made the Duke furious. The Duke glared fiercely, but the captain continued to sneer, taking out a cigar.

The unexpected action didn't stop there.

The swan was covered in ash. The captain used the expensive dessert as an ashtray, openly mocking the provocation he called a 'gift.'

The Duke's expectation that the captain would be flustered was completely shattered. Instead, the Duke began to feel flustered.

Leon smiled at the Duke, who couldn't hide his embarrassment. Leon knew the source of the tip that he had a mistress in the interrogation room was the Duke. The female officer he had bought had already been tracked down and eliminated.

'Threat with a threat.'

What card should he play? A scandal with a scandal would be best.

"Let me tell you, I have evidence that one of your daughters is having an affair."

The Duke's embarrassment became even more apparent.

"A few photos, wiretap recordings, letters, and undergarments left in the lover's car. Things like that."

He was talking about Rosalyn Aldrich and his brother's affair, but Leon didn't reveal their names. If the Duke knew, the two would either break up or run away, neither of which would help Leon.

"You probably don't want to see that evidence. The Constantine royal family certainly wouldn't want to see it either."

Rosalyn Aldrich's sister, the Duke's third daughter, was engaged to a prince of the Constantine Kingdom. Thus, the scandal would be more fatal to the Duke's family.

The Duke couldn't even question if it was a false threat. Even if it were fabricated, it would still cause significant damage to the Duke's family.