Chapter 130.1
Andrew led Grace and Benjamin into a smaller room set apart from the others. The matter was too sensitive to be discussed openly.
He began without delay.
“That man was a regular at one of the shops in this back alley. Since the goods here aren’t registered with the Magic Tools Association, he must have assumed he wouldn’t be traced. To be honest, he was already infamous among us for his… questionable conduct.”
Andrew added that they hadn’t wanted to sell to him, but customers were scarce. If they refused, he could report them for selling ‘illegal’ magic tools and make their lives even harder.
“But items without the Association certification aren’t automatically illegal, are they?”
“Without certification, they’re considered unverified for safety. That makes it easy to accuse them of illegality.”
Benjamin answered before Andrew could. Andrew nodded grimly.
“Magic tools alone don’t earn us enough to survive, so we sell miscellaneous goods or take on odd jobs. One day, a man purchased a sound-blocking device—something that prevents conversations from being heard beyond a certain radius. Not long after, the orphanage director bought hair dye.”
“That could just be coincidence.”
“We later learned where—and why—the sound-blocking device was used.”
“…!”
“This district draws its share of unsavory people. There are plenty of questionable taverns. The director met with the man who bought the device, and afterward, he purchased the dye.”
That alone didn’t prove what they had discussed. Grace felt a flicker of disappointment—was that all?—when Andrew reached into his coat and produced a small pyramid-shaped device.
“This is the very sound-blocking tool used that day.”
Why do you still have that? Grace thought incredulously.
As if reading her mind, Andrew explained.
“The buyer feared it would be dangerous if found in his possession and asked me to dispose of it. He could have simply destroyed it himself, but… in the process, I discovered a fatal flaw. The device doesn’t merely block sound within a set range—it absorbs every sound within that range into itself.”
“That sounds less like a flaw and more like a disaster waiting to happen.”
But that’s how he obtained evidence…
“I intended to dispose of it once I realized the defect. But shortly after, the fire incident occurred. Something felt off. I neither destroyed nor listened to it. Then I met Cleta, learned about you, and finally listened to the recording.”
Andrew extended the device toward Grace.
“This is something you must hear yourself. Press the pointed top for three seconds.”
Grace stared at the sharp tip. It looked more menacing than a spinning wheel’s needle—one prick away from eternal sleep.
‘Well, I’m no fairy-tale beauty. I’ll survive.’
It wasn’t a spindle, after all.
With a dry, self-deprecating thought, she steadied herself and pressed down firmly.
The device hummed, crackled with static, then began releasing fragments of noise. Amid the distortion, two voices gradually became audible.
“Yes, everything was orchestrated by the Duchess of Felton.”
“Her? Hah! The entire Empire knows she’s incompetent and foolish!”
“And yet who is it that couldn’t return to his rightful place because of her?”
“……”
“Weren’t you born in Viscounty Linden? The Duchess of Felton wished for you to lose everyone’s trust, fall into ruin, and die miserably. After taking the ducal seat, she came to despise everything connected to her origins.”
A rustling of paper followed, as if proof had been presented.
What nonsense…?
Grace’s eyes trembled as she listened.
“Haven’t so many people from Linden met with accidents in the capital and been forced to leave? She simply can’t bear to see those who succeeded and rose in status. After all, she’s someone who succeeded purely by luck.”
“Do you know how hard I worked to get here? And that woman—utterly incompetent—sits in the Duchess’s seat just because she was born a noble.”
“Yes. Everything that led to your downfall was planned by Grace Felton, who relied on the Felton name. I will help you.”
Clink.
A heavy money bag hit the table.
“Let’s take revenge on her.”
Even through the distorted recording, the final voice was disturbingly gentle—soft, coaxing, almost kind. So kind it sent chills down Grace’s spine.
“……”
Benjamin snatched the device from Andrew’s hand and clenched it tightly. The sound cut off abruptly.
He had already heard enough.
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