Chapter 58
It was still a long way off before dawn.
There was a place where the darkest elements gathered.
The 4th District, infamously known as the most depraved area of Wayne, reeked of rot from its very entrance. Naked beggars and drunken vagrants lay sprawled on the slushy floors where the snow had not melted enough.
The stench of alcohol and other pungent odours also signalled the arrival at the 4th District.
Debert was passing through the heart of it.
“Huh? Isn’t this a noble lord?”
It was only upon reaching the deepest alley that a relatively sober individual emerged. The man, with rotten and missing teeth, was the self-appointed boss of the 4th District.
He appraised the well-groomed nobleman. Obscured by the darkness, the man was clearly no ordinary person.
“Heh heh, I wonder what a noble lord like yourself needs here in the dead of night…”
The man drawled, his eyes narrowing shrewdly. The intelligence glinted in his eyes, hidden beneath the matted hair.
His naturally calculating mind told him that a huge source of money had just arrived before him.
The man bared his yellowed teeth, provoking the nobleman. He knew that a measured provocation would rile up the cautious nobles.
“You must know what kind of place this is, our noble lord.”
Something suddenly whizzed through the silent darkness.
The man quickly snatched the glinting object that reflected the moonlight – a cufflink set with a blue sapphire. Soon, the other cufflink followed.
Debert straightened his rumpled sleeve cuff.
“That’s the down payment.”
A jingling sound followed, and another object arced through the air.
“That’s the price of your life.”
Price of his life? The man’s grinning face faltered as he looked at the sapphire cufflinks.
The reason most came to this place was to make discreet requests, never anything pure. It was usually to have someone killed or severely incapacitated – dangerous tasks requiring hefty compensation.
That was why they always wanted to conceal their identities.
Unlike the nobleman before him, who brazenly revealed himself.
“Look at me properly.”
The imposing shadow loomed over the man.
The man’s brow twitched. The earlier languid gaze had lost all its leisure.
What nobleman besides the imperial family could exude such an aura? Not the golden hair of the imperial house, but grey.
Grey hair…?
“C-Cliff?”
Debert, emerging from the dark shadow, gestured to the watch in the man’s hand. The watch, gleaming grey like the Duke, was in the filthy hands of the man.
“If you carelessly sell it, you’ll reveal that you’ve made a deal with me. There’s no one in Nexus besides me who has that watch.”
He helpfully elaborated.
“It means your life is forfeit if you flap your tongue.”
The roles of the bargaining parties had reversed in an instant.
“Then why the hell did you show your face instead of staying hidden in the dark?”
The man who had been through all sorts of hardships was the one who acted cruelly towards Debert. He had come here because the other party could not do secret things with his own hands anyway. He thought that he should not easily give up the upper hand in this kind of contract, and he reacted with a vengeance.
But that was a miscalculation.
His opponent was Debert.
The man, who ruled the lawless back alleys, was no match for comprehending the true nature of the Duke of Cliff.
“Remember me. If you don’t bring the one I’m looking for, I’ll come find you.”
Debert leaned against the wall, lighting a cigar. His sunken cheeks deeply inhaled the acrid smoke.
“Cough! Cough!”
The man coughed, scowling as the exhaled smoke hit him.
“If you’re caught trying to cross the border after selling what I gave you, I’ll tear you limb from limb and throw you to the dogs in this alley.”
Debert continued calmly.
“All of your drug peddlers down there as well.”
In the narrow, secluded alley, the only source of light was the cigar, flickering precariously as if it would soon extinguish.
“Where’s the proof that I made the drugs, huh? Are you trying to turn me in?”
The illegal distribution and manufacture of drugs was a major source of income for the 4th District.
To casually meddle with a business that fattened his pockets more than running errands was unthinkable. The man’s face flushed with agitation.
“Forget it! I won’t do that deal!”
“The only reason you’re still alive is that the Nexus nobles who became your customers have kept their mouths shut.”
“…!”
“From now on, I’m going to get thoroughly ruined. My dirty rumors will spread like crazy. I’ve accumulated karma over the years, so people will say that Devert Cliff is really crazy this time And they’ll try to find the cause.”
Debert chuckled, taking another deep drag on the cigar. A few strands of his fallen fringe obscured his eyes.
“Then I’ll report to His Majesty that I bought the drugs forbidden in Nexus in this alley. What do you think? Quite a good plan, isn’t it?”
“But will you be safe?! Even as a Duke, avoiding execution will be difficult!”
“It doesn’t matter.”
The fallen cigar was crushed under Debert’s shoe.
“I don’t care even if I rot in prison for the rest of my life or get executed.”
Debert’s eyes flashed with madness.
Seeing such a Duke, the man’s expression turned to one of horrified awe. He had been pleased at the arrival of a big shot, but it turned out to be a monster come to tighten the noose around his neck.
“W-Whose name do I need to bring?”
His voice was now considerably subdued.
Sweat was trickling down, making the watch and cufflinks in his hands slip.
“Beth Jane.”
Debert murmured.
The name rolled off his tongue more smoothly than the acrid cigar smoke.
“Bring me every Beth Jane in Nexus. Not a single one missing.”
“How am I supposed to find someone with such a common name! At least tell me the hair colour!”
The man protested again, but it was a desperate plea. Failing to find the Beth Jane Debert spoke of could bring untold consequences.
Even as he heard the fearful cries, Debert remained unfazed.
“That doesn’t matter.”
Hair colour, indeed.
Having already fled, she wouldn’t be walking around with her face openly revealed. There were countless ways to hide, whether by cutting off her shaggy hair or dousing it in dye.
But if the woman’s hair, resembling the black night sky, were to disappear from her face, Debert would find it a little regrettable.
“Search from the very bottom to the top of Nexus, leaving no one out. You have one month.”
* * *
Debert, upon his return, carried out the duties of the Duke of Cliff with an easy composure, as if he had never left.
Dismissing the rumours that painted him as a war-crazed man ignorant of worldly affairs, he kept the board of directors on edge daily.
Some claimed he was even more fastidious in business matters than the late Cassius, but faced with the profits and results he generated, they had no choice but to hold their tongues.
As Debert’s threatening military supply business grew, the rumours of his exploits on the battlefield also gradually faded.
Eventually, the prevailing opinion was that it had merely been an unfounded rumour.
Love and Debert Cliff were utterly incompatible. Even the Duke, whose beloved had disappeared – seeing his madness over that incident, yet unflinchingly toppling the venerable family business in one fell swoop?
People scoffed. And became even more enamoured with Debert.
Those who visited the Cliff manor in Wayne were in abundance every day, but Debert admitted no one to the drawing room.
“Your Grace, Lord Ronald’s carriage has arrived at the gates.”
“Had we made an appointment?”
Debert asked, turning the page of his newspaper. In his crisp shirt attire, he calmly sipped his tea. The dark brows raised slightly, urging a response.
“No, we had not.”
“Then it’s impolite.”
Debert simply dismissed it as impolite, since no prior appointment had been made.
However, the butler knew that was merely an excuse – even if an appointment had been made, his master would never allow another’s footsteps to be left in this house.
It was partly an obsession, and partly an excessive self-defence to avoid trauma. This tendency had only deepened further after the recent war.
“I’ve redecorated the drawing room to suit the approaching spring.”
It was a tactful way of saying he would welcome guests to the new drawing room.
“Thank you for your efforts.”
As Debert turned back to his newspaper, he suddenly glanced out the window. The branches outside were still bare, but the budding flower buds were hastily revealing themselves.
“Has the room I requested earlier been prepared?”
“It’s nearly complete. However, I wanted to ask your opinion on the colour of the bedding and furnishings in the Madam’s room.”
“Colour…”
The colour of Beth Jane.
“Sky blue would be good.”
“Understood. That colour will complement the spring sky nicely. I’ll place the order with the one who has decorated the previous Cliff ladies’s rooms.”
The butler, who rarely added his own opinion, responded with an unusually eager tone.
At that moment, a knock sounded, and a servant at the door handed the butler a thick envelope.
“A letter has arrived.”
Much thicker and heavier than the usual social event invitations or gentlemen’s club invitations. Even the envelope was simply wrapped in cheap paper.
It was the kind of dispatch that would be unlikely to reach the Duke’s manor.
“Leave.”
Debert set aside the newspaper.
Today marked exactly one month since he had visited the 4th District. If no news arrived before his next outing, he had planned to find that trail himself, for the thread of life was a long one.
Tearing open the envelope, a bundle of yellowed papers emerged.
In it were the names of Beth Janes, along with their ages, origins, and marital status. Some were simply listed as “Beth” without a surname.
Debert’s eyes rapidly scanned the pages.
The only sound in the silent study was the turning of the papers.
His restless gaze finally settled on one spot.
“Beth / 23 years old / Burnt Sanctuary / Single”
The term “Sanctuary” was the official designation in Nexus for areas where brothels and trafficking took place.
“Burnt…”
Debert muttered the familiar name.
It was the Cliff family’s estate.
