Chapter 12
Heros returned to his small office and slowly bowed his head.
His face was flushed red to the ears, and he stared at the floor with trembling eyes for a long time.
He could hear the sound of his pounding heartbeat echoing in his ears.
Soon, he pulled a letter from the drawer. The top page bore a clear message written in code that only a few could decipher—a call to return.
“…”
After reading it, he pulled out a lamp and crisped the letter between his index and middle fingers until it turned to ash.
The faintly lifted corners of his mouth and the flicker in his brown eyes belonged unmistakably to a villain.
‘If someone said he hadn’t changed, I guess I’d have to believe them.’
In the flames flickering in his eyes, the cold, hardened face of the woman he had once been captivated by appeared.
Catrin Elemoer—one-dimensional and belligerent. Her antics were once so absurd, they made people laugh.
With his sharp observational skills, it wasn’t hard for him to notice that she had changed.
It started after the funeral.
—If you open the library door for ventilation, the flames might spread. Evacuate the maids and servants first.
—Absolutely not. Those confidential documents are more important than their lives. Even if I burn to death, I have to retrieve them.
He recalled the vivid glare of her violet eyes as she struck his cheek without hesitation.
—Shut up. Unless you want me to use that room as your personal crematorium.
Her sharp tongue was relentless, and those cold eyes always looked down on him with lofty disdain.
But beneath the stronger, darker scent of the villainess, there was a newfound clarity of purpose that hadn’t been there before.
Meeting that gaze, Heros realized his own dangerous taste.
Thump, thump, thump.
—I’m sorry, milady.
With a shaky breath, Heros curled his lips into a smile.
He urgently searched for the place where his heart was racing.
‘Please treat me more harshly.’
His closed lashes trembled faintly.
“The outcome is predictable.”
As preparations for the grand opening of the poorhouse neared completion—with permission granted by the temple—annoying news arrived.
Her uncle Padelmon had filed a petition with the court to suspend the poorhouse’s sponsorship and operation.
Thanks to Heros properly submitting the documents, the suspension wouldn’t be approved, but it was clear her uncle was now reaching for her assets without hesitation.
“I had hoped Lucia might rein in her father after my threats… but I guess that was too much to expect.”
Padelmon likely scoffed in return.
To a man so skilled in schemes and dirty dealings, his orphaned niece must have seemed nothing more than a greenhorn.
He likely assumed she’d eventually surrender and hand over her vault.
“Milady.”
Padelmon, bearing the Elemoer name, was trying to bribe even distant relatives to get his hands on her father’s fortune.
He probably incited them by saying, “That nasty niece is giving away our rightful money to street beggars—let’s take it back.”
But she wasn’t one to lose in a numbers game with no foundation.
In the original story, the cruel yet empty-headed Catrin Elemoer ended up handing out money to relatives until she was dragged to the guillotine by Padelmon, the pro-Emperor faction, and her fiancé Philios.
But this time, she had no such intentions.
“Just ignore him.”
“But will that be alright?”
“It’s only them who grow impatient when I don’t respond. They’ll think they’ve laid a trap but end up ensnared by their own bait. That’s just how Padelmon operates.”
She stretched and crossed her legs.
Heros, who had been staring at her blankly, lowered his head.
“Understood. Then I’ll strengthen the mansion’s security.”
“Oh, and one more thing.”
She gently caressed what looked like a bejeweled bracelet but was actually a smartwatch.
“Expand the scale of support for the poorhouse event. Add nutritional supplements and medicine too.”
“That much?”
Even what was already prepared surpassed the combined temporary support of all the capital’s poorhouses.
“I told you—it’s going to be my tax evasion outlet. If we’re going big, might as well be generous. It’ll also boost my reputation.”
Her eyes lingered on the watch screen:
HP: ♥♥♥♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Of course, that wasn’t the only reason.
Etias’s heart count had dropped to three.
She had raised the comfort level significantly, so she hadn’t expected his hearts to fall again so soon.
‘At this point, he must be starving.’
From three hearts onward, physical symptoms start to appear. She couldn’t leave him like this.
‘Take care of yourself first, Etias. What are you doing?’
Raising a favorite character was this difficult, it seemed.
“Understood, milady.”
“And… there’s a guest I’d like to invite.”
“A guest?”
She smirked, recalling yesterday’s newspaper article.
“Scavengers.”
She noticed Heros’s fingers twitch.
It made sense to be uneasy. The Scavengers were a shadowy group—so much so that the Emperor once issued an extermination order.
But if she wanted to find Jeffrey Whistler, she had to contact them. Besides, she needed their help to fend off Padelmon for now.
“They’re a secret organization. There’s no way to approach them.”
To Heros’s serious tone, she casually shrugged.
“Don’t worry. I know how.”
Growl—
The revolutionary soldier’s young son clutched his empty belly and curled up.
When his father returned from training, surely he’d bring bread.
His father had been a soldier under the former Emperor but was punished and banished when the current Emperor seized the throne. His wife had died in the process.
Seeking vengeance for her and dreaming of a better world, the man had joined the revolution.
“I’m hungry…”
The large common room in the two-story building wasn’t cold enough to freeze like their old home, but the food was still a problem.
There was never enough.
Earning money was hard too. Many of them had been branded by the pro-Emperor faction, so few people would hire them.
In the end, only those risking their lives as mercenaries and the small official salary of Commander Etias von Clyde kept them going.
“Just once, I want to eat until I’m full…”
As the boy imagined warm food and parted his lips, someone handed him bread.
“…Commander?”
The boy blankly looked up at Etias.
The leader admired by all adults, the dashing Prince Clyde.
“Is this for me?”
He was too young to grasp the Prince’s stature, but he knew Etias was someone distant and dignified.
Still, the smell of fresh bread teased his nose, and he couldn’t help but reach for it.
“Your Highness, but that’s yours—”
Caron tried to intervene, but Etias shook his head.
“Thank you! I’ll enjoy it!”
The boy bowed deeply. Etias gave a small nod and turned away.
“It’s training time.”
“But Your Highness, to train without eating—”
“The strength of a military starts with its weakest point.”
Etias stood tall, his blue eyes steady as he addressed Caron.
“For example, a hungry child longing for his loyal father collapsing from hunger. If you have food to give me, give it to them first.”
It wasn’t simply sentiment or kindness.
Etias’s ideals were always painfully clear—he never hesitated to break himself down for the cause.
Caron sighed deeply.
“Understood, Your Highness.”
Etias’s steps were proud, and his face shone with dignity, but if he kept skipping meals like this, his health would inevitably suffer.
They had survived worse, but it was still deeply concerning.
‘Even if the revolution succeeds, Your Highness… you may not survive long enough to lead the new world.’
Tomorrow was the first event at Sistina Poorhouse, and they were all anxiously waiting for it.
A poor harvest had nearly doubled food prices over the past week.
Etias hadn’t had a proper meal in nearly three days. His insides were burning.
Meanwhile, Etias entered a shadowy clearing and raised his sword.
There was no hunger or fear in his clear blue eyes.
Fueled by the energy of a radiant soul, he moved without hesitation.