[AFYC] Chapter 14

The Duke’s face turned red as he struggled, his breath coming out in choked gasps. 

“You seem to be under a misconception, Your Grace,” Oscar said, his voice calm and cold. 

“Gurk… ugh…” 

“It would be great to open that vault, but even if I can’t, do you think it’s a significant setback for me? It’s not like I’ve lost anything—after all, the vault hasn’t been opened in 25 years anyway. Think of it as an insurance policy.” 

“But… but I can… find a way…” the Duke spluttered. 

“Find a way, you say?” 

“...” 

“I’ve brought you into the Norfolk Royal Union Assembly, made you President of the bank, and what have you done? Instead of spying on the Royal Union Assembly as instructed, you’ve been feeding information about my movements to the King of Luxen.” 

The Duke’s thick neck, which had been shiny with sweat and liquor, lolled backwards like the neck of a broken chicken, and his mouth gaped open in terror. 

“And you can’t even fulfil the one duty I assigned you as President of the Felphe Bank.” 

Oscar poured the whiskey into the Duke’s open mouth. 

“Gurgh, argh…” 

The Duke struggled with all his might, but there was no escaping Oscar’s grip. Oscar pinned him down effortlessly, with the ease of an adult holding down a child. 

As the Duke’s body thrashed about, Oscar continued to pour the whiskey into his mouth, speaking in a low, almost casual tone. 

“The moment that key appeared, you became worthless as the bank’s President. I only put you there to find a way to open that vault without the key. I must’ve been a fool to think you could manage a simple theft.” 

The Duke’s robe slipped off, and his corpulent body became drenched as the liquor overflowed from his mouth. The woman in the corner watched in horror as the Duke’s eyes rolled back in his head. 

One side flailed as if about to die, while the other remained eerily calm, as if nothing unusual was happening. The contrast between the two was more terrifying than any scene of violent chaos. 

Whether he had passed out or died, the Duke’s body eventually went limp. 

Oscar released his grip on the Duke’s neck as if discarding trash and tossed the now-empty bottle onto the sofa, where it clattered beside the Duke’s lifeless form. 

“I didn’t expect him to be this pathetic,” Oscar muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. He ran a hand through his hair in a careless gesture, and then his cold blue eyes turned to the woman in the corner. 

“...!” 

He locked eyes with her as he slowly lowered his legs from the sofa and stretched as if waking from a nap. 

Please, spare me. 

It was as if he heard her unspoken plea. Oscar looked down at her and spoke calmly. 

“His Grace seems to have overindulged in alcohol, right?” 

The woman, pale as a ghost, nodded frantically. 

“He’ll probably ask you what happened tomorrow. When someone drinks enough to lose their mind, they often lose all memory of what happened.” 

“Yes, Your Excellency.” 

With one hand in his pocket and the other holding his cigarette, Oscar stood there with an indifferent expression. His cold, sharp gaze contrasted with the casual tone of his voice. Then, a faint, insincere smile crossed his face. 

“So, you’ll cover for him, right?” 

Yes, of course. Please, just let me go. 

She didn’t even know what she was saying, only that she kept repeating the same answer like a parrot. 

Oscar listened to her mechanical responses in silence, then turned and slowly walked across the room. 

The woman watched him leave, trembling with fear. He showed no concern about whether the Duke of Felphe might be dead. It seemed as if, even if the Duke remembered everything upon waking, Oscar wouldn’t care. She had the overwhelming sense that Oscar wasn’t even afraid of the King of Felphe himself. 

Thud. 

As the door closed behind him, the woman finally collapsed and vomited up all the liquor she had consumed. 

Meanwhile, outside the door, four men who had been standing guard immediately bowed deeply as Oscar stepped out. Their view of the floor was filled only with the sight of Oscar’s shoes. They only straightened up once he had walked away, quickly falling into step behind him. 

As the burly men crossed the corridor, Kathryn, the owner of the Arman Rose Estate, watched them with a mix of anxiety and awe. She glanced back and forth between the door that still hadn’t opened for the Duke and the retreating figure of the Marquis before finally deciding to follow the latter. 

“Your Excellency…!” 

She called out to him in a pitiful voice, but the Marquis didn’t even spare her a glance. Despite his seemingly leisurely pace, she could not catch up with him. All she could do was follow as best she could.