Of course Audeman knew it was no coincidence. The investigators had clearly copied testimony from an old case in their haste.
But who could have expected the man before him to remember the details of a case from over two hundred years ago?
After a brief pause, Audeman made a swift decision.
"Lord Neuvillette, there appear to be serious procedural flaws in this case. In my opinion, it should be re-examined by the Prosecutorial Office."
Neuvillette replied calmly, "I have already arranged for investigators from the Special Investigation Court to treat this as a criminal case."
Audeman knew further argument would be useless, so he shifted topics.
"The Deputy Captain of the Gardes, Lucien Valois, has repeatedly defied his superiors and acted improperly. A person like him is a malignant presence within our judicial institutions and should be dismissed immediately."
Neuvillette's gaze swept over him faintly.
"Follow procedure."
Unwilling to give up, Audeman pressed further. "Following procedure takes too long and may create further complications. It would be better to suspend him first and handle the formalities afterward."
Neuvillette fell into brief contemplation.
"If you wish to proceed that way, you will need to submit a report bearing unanimous signatures from Lucien Valois's direct superior and his colleagues."
Audeman bowed. "Understood, Lord Neuvillette."
He turned and left.
The moment he stepped out of the office, his face darkened completely.
Things were slipping beyond his control.
If the truth surfaced, the Kappe family would suffer a devastating blow.
That was unacceptable.
To preserve the family's honor and interests, he would bury the truth at any cost.
After giving a few quiet instructions to his subordinates waiting outside, Audeman left the Palais Mermonia.
Ten minutes later, he entered a lavish noble villa.
Inside the spacious living room, a reckless young man was laughing and flirting with two scantily dressed women.
The moment he saw Audeman, he froze and hastily waved the women away.
Smack!
Audeman strode forward and delivered a sharp slap across his face.
Olivier clutched his burning cheek, forcing down the pain. "Father… what did I do to deserve that?"
"You still dare ask me why?" Audeman roared. "Olivier, do you realize the disaster you've caused?"
Olivier muttered dismissively while rubbing his face. "It was just the death of a commoner. Father, when you were young, didn't you—"
Before he could finish, Audeman erupted, delivering several more vicious slaps.
"Where did you hear that nonsense?"
Olivier's face swelled grotesquely, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
"M-Mother told me… before she passed."
At those words, Audeman's fury cooled somewhat.
"She heard rumors from others. You are never to mention that again."
"Yes, Father."
Seeing his son's miserable state, Audeman softened slightly.
"For the time being, you will remain in this villa. You are not to leave. Neuvillette has reassigned investigators to Flora's case."
Olivier's heart lurched. Now he understood his father's rage.
"Father… please save me. I don't want to be sent to the Fortress of Meropide!"
Audeman snorted. "If not for my maneuvering behind the scenes, you'd already be there."
He paused. "Think carefully. Did you overlook anything? If there's still time, we can fix it."
Olivier shut his eyes, replaying the events.
He briefly remembered the clothes he had worn that day—but then reassured himself that he had ordered them burned.
"No… nothing else."
Audeman gave him a final cold look. "Remember. Do not leave this villa."
He turned and departed.
The moment he left, Olivier's servant hurried over.
"Young Master, are you alright? I'll fetch a doctor—"
"Wait," Olivier interrupted, staring into the servant's eyes. "That outfit… you burned it, correct?"
A flicker of unease crossed the servant's face before he concealed it.
"Yes, Young Master. Burned completely. Even the ashes were thrown into the river. No trace remains."
Olivier exhaled in relief.
Yet for some reason, an inexplicable unease lingered in his chest.
…
That afternoon, warm sunlight draped Fontaine's quiet streets like gauze.
Lucien Valois sat in a secluded outdoor café, leisurely enjoying complimentary coffee and pastries.
Since becoming Deputy Captain, shop owners always insisted on offering him free food.
At first, he had refused. But his refusals only made them anxious.
Eventually, he accepted—but always left money behind afterward to avoid future leverage.
Just then, a stern-looking middle-aged man approached and sat opposite him.
The man wore an eyepatch over his left eye, fatigue visible in his gaze.
"Captain Lin, you wanted to see me?"
"President Callas," Lucien Valois said coolly, setting down his cup, "those thugs at Chiori's Boutique—they're yours, aren't they?"
A trace of helplessness crossed Callas's face.
"Yes. They are. This was my failure in management. I apologize."
Lucien Valois did not relent. "How do you intend to deal with them?"
Callas felt a headache coming on.
After funding the construction of Fontaine's aqueduct system, the Spina di Rosula had fallen into financial crisis. Many members hadn't even received wages and had resorted to side activities.
Those thugs had targeted Chiori's Boutique out of desperation.
If he punished them severely, he might appease Lucien Valois—but morale within the Spina di Rosula could collapse.
He gave a bitter smile. "Captain Lin, how would you like me to handle it?"
A cold smile curved Lucien Valois's lips.
"I've always been kindhearted. Let them keep their hands—and we'll consider the matter settled."