Chapter 78

Under ordinary circumstances, there would have been little choice but to trust the investigation and wait. However, the crime had taken place deep in the slums, a place where rival powers found it difficult to infiltrate, and the targets were the Surmulots, vermin who hide themselves as well as sewer rats.

Eugène did not doubt the abilities of Victor Adelphe, the trusted aide personally chosen by the Emperor. However, in this particular field, Hunter would likely prove more effective.

“What is this? A double commission?”

“To be precise, it was not a commission.”

A commission implied a voluntary agreement; the nuance of Eugène’s words suggested something far less optional. The fact that he’s not free to investigate what happened to him suggests that there are forces beyond his control. Hunter, picking up on the subtleties of his words, became curious.

As for who Eugène might have reported to, let’s see. The Marquis of La Baille, Admiral of the Navy, was practically out of the picture thanks to his divorce trial. The venerable Sir Olaf, who had once been a great help to Eugène, had passed away three years prior. Next, what floated to Hunter’s mind was a certain scandalous rumor currently making the rounds.

Word had it that these days, a certain noble personage had been taking a particularly keen interest in shielding this taciturn fellow…

Hunter wondered what kind of influence he had on the case, if the man he suspected was involved. Had they perhaps intervened to pull Eugène away for his own protection? Or perhaps they had forced him to step away in order to smooth over the aftermath of the incident without trouble?

“But what do I get in return for catching one of those marksmen?”

Oh my. This is getting more interesting by the moment. Hunter, who was half convinced that the rumors floating around were nonsense, was suddenly intrigued by the unexpected turn of events. He had known Eugène for nearly half his life. Though this stiff hawk-eyed guy was not stubborn, he was, at his core, an upright and proper sort, and while he was polite to everyone, he was not the most sociable person.

Being a man with such a disposition and that unapproachable demeanor of his, it was hardly surprising that, rather than being embroiled in any scandal, he had made a daily habit of being slighted even by his noble-born wife. And now, to think that such a man was rumored to be entangled with the greatest power in the empire? The world truly worked in mysterious ways.

Hunter found himself unable to suppress his curiosity over how things had come to this. Not only did he want to know whether the circulating rumors were true, but also, if the gossip held any truth, whether the Emperor truly lived up to his formidable reputation, and, should it be so, which of the two had taken the role of the man. A torrent of dangerous questions, any one of which might cost him his life if uttered aloud, surged up within him, making his mouth itch. Once his curiosity was piqued, he had never been one to endure it for long, and this time was no exception.

“Are you asking for extra payment?”

“It makes me feel bad when you put it so bluntly… Let us call it an incentive for a more vigorous investigation.”

Hunter smiled slyly, stroking Eugène’s thigh. It was not a sexual gesture; it was a habit of his, something he did whenever he wanted to get something out of someone.

Eugène frowned slightly and stared at him in silence, but their exchange was interrupted by a sudden uproar from the audience. Turning to the stage, he saw the scene had changed.

Now, instead of the earlier setup, there was a large wooden cutout of a fireplace, and two men stood before it. A sturdy young man, dressed as a farmer, knelt before another man in fine clothes.

“Oof, hngh, My Lord! Must I really do this just to punish my cheating wife?”

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As if responding to the crowd’s jeering, the lord grabbed a fistful of the kneeling man’s hair and twisted his hips with startling realism. Compared to the actresses from earlier, whose lines had been so slurred as to be barely comprehensible, these actors were far more bearable to listen to.

“Then, of course. Did you think a lord could simply do whatever he pleased? Not at all. Even a lord must adhere to lawful procedures to preserve order in his domain. Very good. Now, shall we try going a little deeper this time?”

“Huk, mmph, mmp. Th-thank you, My Lord. To think that even after I accused your kin of adultery, you would treat me so fairly… It is truly my great fortune to be your vassal.”

“Indeed. And it is a great joy for me to have a vassal like you.”

The lord acted out the part of a man exploiting a foolish farmer’s mouth for his own pleasure, and feigned climax with an exaggerated shudder. In tandem, the farmer coughed and gagged as though struggling to swallow something.

The performance was so luridly realistic that Eugène felt an urge to scrub his eyes clean. But the sickening discomfort clawing at him now was not merely from witnessing this grotesque imitation of intercourse.

“—Hunter.”

A young wife who had committed adultery with the lord’s relative. A foolish farmer who had gone to report the matter, only to end up entangled with the lord himself… Even without much thought, no one could fail to realize which incident this vulgar play was satirizing.

After finishing one round of business with the farmer’s mouth, the lord coaxed him, saying that they must proceed with the remaining procedures. Then, the fireplace painting disappeared, and a wide bed surrounded on all sides by white cloths appeared on stage. The two male actors entered the bed with the canopy drawn down and began to engage in a full-fledged act.

“Ouch, ouch, it hurts. What is this? The noble incarnation of My Lord has entered into my backside!”

As the actor playing the farmer whimpered in exaggerated pain, the actor playing the lord soothed him in a languid voice.

“Did you think something as difficult as a trial would be accomplished so easily? Just as a seal must be stamped upon a document, I must personally stamp one upon you.”

“But, My Lord- it hurts so much. Ouch, ouch, this stamping will be the death of me!”

The farmer’s noisy, clamorous cries echoed resoundingly throughout the stage. Before the audience’s eyes, an explicit scene unfolded, so blatant that the actors may as well have been nude, though they were not. Even without actual nudity, the lighting exaggerated their movements into massive shadows cast upon the stage walls, making the spectacle all the more lurid.

The theater was once again filled with whistles and cheers. Some spectators playfully threw bits of trash onto the stage, while others awkwardly rubbed at the fronts of their trousers, busy tending to themselves.

When Eugène turned a cold, frost-laden gaze back at him, Hunter’s hand, which had been fumbling along Eugène’s thigh, withdrew stealthily to its place. Still, even as Eugène continued to fix him with a glowering stare, Hunter hastily corrected his indolent posture and began to stammer out a pitiful excuse that even a dog would have refused to believe.

“N-now, look… I may be the theater owner, but I am no playwright myself, am I? What would a fellow like me know about art? My only crime is that I gave permission for the play that our dear playwright brought to me…”

“Ah, well, our playwright, you see, is so very fond of following trends and has such a spirited sense for satire—”Rambling on and on with useless additions that barely counted as excuses, Hunter anxiously watched Eugène’s expression.

Eugène was so dumbfounded that he could not even find the words to speak. To think that rumors about him and the Emperor, once rolling through the markets, had now become fodder for a third-rate burlesque.

He could not figure out how he ought to process the reality unfolding before his eyes.

“You have some nerve. Must you be executed for lèse-majesté before you come to your senses?”

He cared little for his own name being sullied, but the sacred and supreme Emperor of the empire being made a mockery of in such a manner was an outrage he could not abide. When Eugène turned serious and lashed out in anger, Hunter hunched his shoulders and pouted.

“What is the problem? It is so much more approachable this way. A handsome, clever libertine is always a beloved character, you know.”

“Do you even hear yourself?”

“Why are you taking it out on me? You do not know the full situation, so you say such things. But in truth, plays of this kind are all the rage in the capital right now. There are dozens of similar performances, and yet every ticket sells out in an instant. Our Sovereign is a wise and virtuous ruler, but precisely because he is so flawless and inhuman in character, he was almost beyond reproach. Now that this scandal has broken, do you know how much the people adore it? They say he finally feels more human, more approachable.”

Hunter’s rhetoric was nonsensical, arguing that such vulgar performances were doing more for the Emperor’s popularity than the fabricated portraits distributed by the court.

In fact, there was a grain of truth in what he said. The citizens were as fervent as the nobility in their excitement over the Emperor’s scandal with a male paramour, for at long last, even the Emperor had provided them with something to gossip and laugh about.

Unable to bear it any longer, Eugène grabbed Hunter by the collar and hissed a threat right into his face.

“I told you before. I tolerate you only so long as you do no harm to the empire.”

“There is no need to be so harsh. Come now, calm yourself. It is but a third-rate play, nothing more.”

“Hunter!”

“I am telling you, you are overreacting! You are not the only aide to the Emperor in the audience tonight. Why are you making such a fuss alone?”

“… What?”

“Look across the way. There, in the opposite box. A very special guest is in attendance tonight. Perhaps you do not recognize him at first glance, but the man sitting there has been His Majesty’s right hand since birth, not merely a recent ally like you. True, he is a commoner by birth, so he is not treated quite the same as the nobility, but still, a milk brother is a milk brother.”

A milk brother of the Emperor, and of common birth… Could it be Victor Adelphe was here tonight? Eugen glanced suspiciously in the direction Hunter was pointing. But the box seat was utterly empty, not a shadow of a person to be seen.

“What are you talking about? There is no one there.”

“What? That cannot be! I personally escorted him before the show-”

Startled by Eugène’s blunt retort, Hunter hastily rose to his feet and peered across the theater. Though no amount of staring would make an absent man suddenly appear.

“How strange. Did he leave midway?”

Hunter awkwardly scratched his head and muttered to himself.

“And now you resort to outright lies?”

Eugène coldly accused Hunter, convinced he was attempting to wriggle out of his predicament with a ridiculous story. Hunter, looking like a man falsely accused of treason, opened his mouth in protest. His lips quivered as if to deliver an indignant defense, but before he could speak, there came a sharp knock at the door of their box.

Now what? I specifically said not to be disturbed during the play.”

Hunter grumbled, though he clearly felt a surge of relief at the interruption, smoothing down his disheveled clothes.

Though Hunter had nearly skirted into the realm of transgression, he was still the head of his own circle of followers. Eugène could hardly humiliate a leader before his own subordinates; thus, he reluctantly let go of him and took a step back.

“The distinguished guest from the opposite box requests to join you. Shall we allow him entrance?”