This Book is Not Available for Subscription Under the Age of 18 - Chapter 156

Shouldn’t you go to prison at least once before you die? (4)

Thanks to me building my tolerance for three years, I pushed the top of his head as hard as usual.

“Change your clothes.”

It wasn’t that Merson in his rumpled shirt was unsightly. On the contrary, the buttons were unbuttoned up to his chest, revealing muscles that could not be hidden between them, and the red eyes that were deeply nestled under the thick eyebrows stood out even more sexily. The disheveled figure overflowed with decadent beauty.

“Why are you laughing?”

He doesn’t even change his clothes, he just laughs at the distance. Somehow the position was set so well that the sunlight fell on his face, making it seem like only the space where Merson was standing was in another world. Like a prince in a fairy tale made up of only beautiful imaginations.

Strangely, he who feels so far away opens his mouth in front of me.

“It’s like a dream.”

That’s what I’m supposed to say.

“To be able to have breakfast with Erina even after my lie is revealed.”

“…….”

He spoke with childlike innocence, but I couldn’t give him an appropriate answer. Another liar here hasn’t even spoken about the truth yet.

I opened the closet door I was holding, grabbed whatever I could get my hands on, and threw it at Merson.

“Get dressed.”

Fortunately, thanks to Merson, who was able to catch it even if it was thrown sloppily, the clothes did not roll on the floor. However, it seems that he just accepts it and has no intention of changing anyway.

“… I would wear it if I’m told to, but it would probably tear from the shoulder line.”

“Sorry, I’ll wear that.”

I snatched the dress that looked like a piece of cloth since Merson was holding it. I almost did something I shouldn’t do.

There was a little fuss, but I got ready relatively quickly and went down to the dining room. As for why I went straight down to the dining room instead of heading to Evan’s room, it could be (thankfully?) because of the nervous voice I heard as soon as I opened the door.

“I’m not eating!”

“How can a person gain strength if they do not eat? At least put a piece of bread in your mouth!”

“You want me to put bread that looks like it was kneaded without even washing the hands beforehand?”

“Although the inn is shabby, the hygiene is good.”

“Don’t set common people’s standards on me.”

Quite rudely, Chenin didn’t care and cut the food down while the chef was watching with his eyes wide open.

The muscular chef with a stocky physique gripped the white dishcloth he was holding. Tendons rise above it, giving it a terrifying look. One blow with that fist will completely tear everything.

“What are you looking at? Don’t you know my face wears out if you keep looking at it?!”

Chenin shouted at the chef, probably feeling the stinging gaze. Uhh hey… Aren’t you being a bit dangerous?

“It doesn’t wear out just by looking at it. At least a little bit of food…….”

“Hey, Pig! You go, I’ll give you all this food, so go eat it.”

“He is the head chef. How rude of you to ask him to take back the food he made for the  guests.”

In general, we don’t call people with too much muscle pigs. I had to stop Chenin before anything really happened.

“Chenin, hold on.”

But before I could act, things were already happening.

“Look! Don’t you cry, chef!”

Evan, you don’t have to talk so loud.

The chef, whose physique seemed like he was about to break a table or anything at random, began to shed tears with trembling lips. Chenin just snorts at the sight and turns her head away. In the end, it was Evan’s job to comfort the chef.

“She hasn’t been able to sleep lately, so she’s getting cranky. She’s not a bad person. Chef, you know how much I love your food.”

I was going to have a serious talk about the count, but this is what the situation looks like. If we babble about the Emperor or black magic here, we might be handcuffed in an instant.

Even if all the lights in the world were turned off and the spotlight only shone on us, the attention wouldn’t be as focused as it is now.

* * *

The parchment filled with letters was helplessly crumpled by the strength of the soft fingers. The Saint, whose eyes were shaking from anger, eventually threw it away with all her might. The letter that fell far away and turned into rolling rubbish was from Count Abitz.

“Theron Abitz… died?”

Theron Abitz, the eldest son of Count Abitz, is a vain, incompetent, rapist and murderer. He didn’t fall into prison right away with the mark of nobility on his back, but it wouldn’t be strange if he was hanged right away.

Since he had no ties with his father, the Count, and had a worse relationship than others, only seeing his face once or twice in half a year, it was rather early for him to be found more than a month after his death. If the Saint hadn’t needed Theron Abitz, he might never have found him.

The banquet being ruined was no different than a big setback for the Saint who was trying to help the Count build his position among the nobles. Even Theron Abitz, who will replace him, has died.

The Saint, who was trying to bring down the Emperor and put Count Abitz at the highest position, as he would become her own perfect puppet, felt dizzy at the less than smooth situation.

“Where the hell did it go wrong?”

She tried to warm up the Emperor who would be in a mess more than anyone else, leaving only her where everyone else had left. To deprive him of all his powers and to make him her own doll by constantly brainwashing him so that she cannot live without him.