Chapter 21: Secrets and Contracts

Let’s rewind time slightly, to the room at the end of the second-floor corridor.

Just as Rosie’s palm was about to touch the arm hiding the dagger, the man’s rather casual voice came from behind her.

“Miss Moulton, you may not have noticed.”

“Noticed what?”

Rosie’s movements paused slightly.

Ignoring the drumming of her heart, she tried to make her voice sound as normal as possible.

Hermann cocked the hammer, pressing the gun muzzle further against the “disobedient” young lady’s head.

“When we first met, and before we entered the dining room.”

“Every time something unexpected happened, you would subconsciously cover your left arm with your hand.”

Rosie was silent for a moment, then gritted her teeth and said, “Mr. Rhys certainly pays a lot of attention to me!”

Hermann shrugged, teasing, “Miss Moulton’s beauty is so dazzling, it’s hard for me to ignore.”

‘This person is such a jacka**!’

With her intention exposed, Rosie stopped struggling.

She picked up the brown glass bottle, opened the cap, and brought it to her nose to sniff.

There was no strange smell.

She frowned slightly, and steeling herself, tilted her head back and drank the liquid inside the bottle in one gulp.

‘Hmm, a bitter taste with a hint of astringency, not too strange.’

Rosie put down the glass bottle.

What’s done is done.

She couldn’t be bothered to pretend to be a well-behaved young lady in front of this man with a vile personality any longer, and said in an unfriendly tone.

“You’d better not be lying to me about the antidote.”

“Otherwise, I’ll drag you down with me even in death.”

Faced with the threat, Hermann didn’t speak, but just frowned, staring at her without blinking.

“What are you looking at?”

“I’m waiting for the drug to take effect,” Hermann said seriously.

“Actually, this isn’t a slow-acting poison, but a mixed potion made mainly from Martin grass.”

“Martin grass?”

This time, her memories didn’t churn, which meant this term was also unfamiliar to “Rosie Moulton.”

“Oh.”

“It’s just those little trinkets that noble lords use in bed to spice things up.”

Hermann said casually, as if it were nothing.

Rosie, “!!!”

‘Spice things up? Why don’t you just say it’s an aphrodisiac?!’

Seeing the girl’s fair cheeks flush crimson like a sunset, and her hand covering her arm in a desperate, ready-to-die-rather-than-submit manner, Hermann raised a hand.

“Hey, hey, hey.”

“Calm down, calm down, Miss Moulton.”

“As newly allied partners, I just wanted to make a joke to break the ice between us.”

After speaking, Hermann even extended a hand.

“Pleasure working with you.”

‘Pleasure my a**! You’re clearly coercing me!’

Fueled by anger, Rosie didn’t give him a pleasant look.

Instead of shaking his hand, she slapped the back of the man’s hand hard.

“Pleasure working with you!”

Hermann rubbed his hand, not minding being scratched by the little kitten, and asked, “What are your plans for later?”

Rosie understood that Hermann was asking how she was going to explain the cause of Donahue Bobby’s death when she went back.

For a moment, she hesitated.

“You plan to tell the truth?”

Hermann sneered, mocking the noble young lady’s naivety.

“And then? Bring them to this room?”

“How will you explain this portrait then?”

“With a prior record of murder, suspicion and fear will be enough to send you to the pyre.”

Hermann said coldly, “No matter how you explain it, in the end, the name left on the parchment tonight will inevitably be Rosie Moulton.”

Rosie was getting a little annoyed by his words.

She crossed her arms over her chest, her misty-blue eyes glancing at the man.

“Then I wonder, what brilliant insight does Mr. Rhys have?”

“Burn this place down with fire, clean and neat.”

Hearing Hermann’s words, Rosie was stunned for a moment, then turned her head to glance at Donahue Bobby’s corpse.

It wasn’t that Rosie was some kind of saint, that if someone came to kill her and she killed them in self-defense, she would have to shed a few tears and repent with apologies.

It was that Donahue was most likely also a victim, and his reason for attacking her was mixed with some misunderstanding.

Now, for him to end up with an incomplete corpse, Rosie’s mood was somewhat complicated.

Hermann, on the other hand, was very clear-headed about it.

“If you feel guilty about Mr. Bobby’s death, you should make use of every available condition to shatter this conspiracy and catch the real mastermind.”

“He is the source of all this misfortune.”

Rosie was silent for a moment, then nodded.

“Alright, we’ll do as you say.”

“However.”

She looked at Hermann and raised her question, “Doing this will burn away all the factors that are disadvantageous to me.”

“But Mr. Bobby’s death is a fact, and without evidence to prove my innocence, their suspicion of me won’t lessen.”

“At that time, it will be their four votes against our two, and I’ll still be voted out tonight.”

Hermann smiled and pointed to his own chin.

“Very simple. Then give them a murderer.”

“You mean.”

Rosie frowned.

“Tell them that you attacked Mr. Bobby and me, and have you play the role of the murderer?”

Hermann shook his head.

“No, I won’t be playing the murderer, but the scapegoat.”

“The real murderer is still you.”

Rosie was already a little dizzy.

She blinked her misty-blue eyes and looked at the man, asking blankly, “What do you mean?”

Hermann explained, “If, as you say, I’m the murderer who killed Donahue Bobby, how did you, a delicate noble young lady, all alone, manage to subdue me, a vicious and desperate killer?”

“I have a gun,” Rosie said subconsciously.

“Right, that’s the point.”

“You have a gun.”

“After this information is revealed, what if they become wary and demand you hand over the gun?”

“Impossible.”

This was Rosie’s means of self-preservation; she couldn’t possibly give it up.

“Then, to them, who is the greater threat?”

“The subdued murderer, Hermann Rhys, who has no way to fight back, or Rosie Moulton, who possesses the deadliest weapon?”

Hermann looked at the young lady and continued, “They could very well choose to vote for you today, and then vote for me tomorrow.”

“But I have a gun. If they vote for me…”

Hermann interrupted her, “Then our two groups will become complete opposites.”

“Bloodshed will be unavoidable, and that is what the person who planned all this would be happy to see.”

“From when we were unconscious to when we woke up, the person hiding behind the scenes had every opportunity to kill us easily.”

“The fact that he designed all these twists and turns means his core objective has always been one thing: to make us suspect each other and kill each other.”

‘Is this some kind of cheesy movie plot?’ Rosie didn’t understand.

“Why is he doing this?”

Hermann didn’t speak immediately, but took out a small iron box from his coat pocket.

“Miss Moulton, have you ever heard of the Covenanters?”

“Covenanters?”

Click.

The small iron box was opened.

Hermann took out a thin, paper-like piece of gelatinous material from it, then placed it on his face, kneading it left and right.

In a flash, half of his cheek had transformed into a horrifying, burned visage.

Both the gray eschar and the pale blisters looked completely real.

Under Rosie’s shocked gaze, Hermann slowly said.

“A group of people who use specific rituals to obtain hidden powers.”

“Such people are called Covenanters.”