Chapter 78 Regular Meeting

Chapter 78: The Regular Meeting

Two hours ago, the lady was forcibly taken from her home in the West Street district by the Duke's Guards and confined in the dungeon.

The Guards flung the documents found in the lady's home onto the interrogation table, which included letters exchanged with The Black Robe Society. Then, under the lady's trembling gaze, a Guard brandished a red-hot dagger to part her veil, the blade less than two centimeters from her delicate, pale cheek. The searing heat burned her skin, causing her pupils to dilate in fear, her face contorted in terror.

The Guard warned icily, "If you don't divulge all you know, I will brand your cheek with a scar that will never fade."

The lady was merely an ordinary member of The Black Robe Society, not a core member. She lacked both loyalty and the training to endure torture. Tears welled up in her eyes, and with little questioning, she broke down sobbing and confessed everything.

The Black Robe Society maintained a single-line communication system, so the lady knew little. However, she was aware of a few key members in the West Street area: one was the already deceased Hammerhead Shark, and the other was Bai Yu, the Duke's current favorite valet.

The lady also confessed that The Black Robe Society had instructed her to order Bai Yu to surreptitiously add a certain powder to the Duke's tea, with the agreed time being before the start of the regular meeting.

And now, Bai Yu was by the Duke's side, attending the meeting.

The Guards wasted no time and immediately went to the meeting, whispering the details into the Duke's ear.

Thus, Bai Yu observed Imuir, who was beside him, suddenly stiffen.

The Duke's face turned ashen, his lake-blue eyes first registered disbelief, then flared with anger, before settling into silent sorrow.

Could the doctor be from The Black Robe Society?

The Black Robe Society was the most infamous gang in the area. Outwardly, it appeared to be just another minor gang, indistinguishable from the myriad gangs that roamed the streets of Illyria. But in reality, its leader was Imuir's own uncle, the very person responsible for the Duke's injury and fall from the cliff. The two factions were sworn enemies, with no possibility of reconciliation.

And the doctor was from such a gang.

The revelation came as a shock, utterly unforeseen. Imuir tightly closed his eyes, his fingers clenching so hard that his nails almost dug into his palms. Yet, he felt no pain, only a dazed realization:

—This explained so many things.

For instance, why the cold and aloof doctor had come to select a valet, why the Hammerhead Shark and the lady had chosen to talk at the doctor's door, why the doctor had torn up and thrown a note into the sewer, and why... the doctor had been so kind to him.

The doctor was aloof, yet from the start, he had shown concern for the Duke's health, intervened in his diet and living arrangements, cared about his late nights, and his aversion to vegetables—countless little things. At first, Imuir had been quite pleased, thinking he was special, that the doctor favored him. But now he realized that wasn't the case.

Those acts of kindness were merely part of the undercover work.

Imuir lowered his gaze, suddenly curling his lips in a self-mocking, almost scornful smile. He thought indifferently that he might have misunderstood one thing.

Bai Yu liked the kitten, and the kitten was never Imuir.

To Imuir, the kitten and the Duke were one and the same. In the doctor's eyes, they had both experienced care for the first time, been kissed for the first time, embraced for the first time, and cared for when sick for the first time... They had both been purely loved for the first time.

At the same time, they both longed for and depended on the doctor's warmth, both eager to seek more love from him. But this was only true for Imuir. To Bai Yu, they were two entirely different things.

The kitten was the doctor's pet, cute and endearing, small enough to be picked up with one hand, placed on the shoulder, or tucked into bed. Bai Yu had held, kissed, and loved that fluffy white-gold kitten, and had taken good care of it.

But what was the Duke?

The Duke was the supreme ruler of Yeliah, a cruel and tyrannical dictator, the enemy of The Black Robe Society, and the target the doctor needed to carefully infiltrate and assassinate.

In recent days, the Duke had dressed up countless times in front of the doctor. He possessed the most radiant face in the entire city-state and the most luxurious robes, yet the doctor had never shown the slightest interest.

He had never been interested in Imuir.

The doctor's attitude toward the Duke was one of cold indifference and perfunctory politeness. The few moments of closeness had only occurred before the regular meetings.

In truth, given the doctor's personality, he shouldn't have let Imuir sleep on his knee, shouldn't have meticulously adjusted Imuir's belt and tie, shouldn't have interfered with Imuir's diet and living arrangements, and certainly shouldn't have let Imuir... feel the illusion of being favored.

All these actions were just to make Imuir bring him to the meeting and sprinkle some unknown powder in his tea.

What Imuir thought was special treatment was nothing but his own wishful thinking and self-deception.

The Grand Duke's face was truly unpleasant, and the atmosphere was extremely tense. The guards were trembling, too afraid to speak up, only whispering tentatively beside the Duke: "Your Grace, the meeting is about to begin. Should we remove Bai Yu first?"

"..."

Silence.

Imuir's fingertips gripped the teacup as he asked bitterly, "Take him where?"

The guard: "...Uh, the dungeon?"

The question was indeed strange. Where else could a spy from the Black Robe Society be taken but the dungeon for rigorous questioning?

"..."

Deeper silence.

The Grand Duke's lips pressed into a straight line, and he closed his eyes wearily. He opened his mouth to speak but finally said weakly, "...This matter is not yet clear; let's not act hastily; we'll wait for now."

The guard was stunned: "Your Grace, the woman has fully confessed, the evidence is conclusive—we have already—"

Before he could finish, he heard the Duke snap angrily: "Silence."

He wearily raised his fingers, rubbing his temples: "I said it's not yet clear, and that's final. There are many doubts; let's discuss it after the banquet."

Finalizing the judgment in front of everyone would leave no room for reversal.

The two deliberately kept their distance from Bai Yu while speaking, making it impossible for Bai Yu to hear clearly.

After Imuir sat down, Bai Yu calmly poured tea as usual. However, two tall, strong guards approached from the corner, armed with belts and knives. They positioned themselves in front, behind, left, and right, effectively blocking Bai Yu in the middle and isolating him from Duke Imuir.

Bai Yu paused in his actions.

66, perched on his shoulder, looked around nervously: "Has our spy identity been discovered?"

Bai Yu replied calmly, "Perhaps."

The Grand Duke's attitude changed so drastically, the only explanation was that their cover had been blown.

66 displayed a small firework animation on the screen: "Then can we go home?"

The main system carefully selected the simplest task for him. In the original book, Bai Yu was a mere background character, with simple scenes and a stereotypical role. But now, things have spiraled out of control. If it drags on any longer, 66 will cry.

Bai Yu neither confirmed nor denied the possibility.

He acted as if nothing had happened, sitting down calmly, neither panicking nor asking questions, allowing the guards to surround him, forming an impenetrable barrier.

The dishes at the Grand Duke's residence were exquisite, and the flavors were exceptional. Bai Yu raised his hand to eat but suddenly felt two gazes from across the room, looking towards him.

One was at the very end of the banquet, from Miller. Although he had fallen out of favor with the Grand Duke, he was still of noble birth and had not been stripped of his title. He was staring at Bai Yu with an intense stare.

The other was seated at the head, just below Grand Duke Imuir, an old man with drooping eyelids, a hooked nose, and gray hair, also glaring menacingly at Bai Yu.

66: "It's the old man you met at the Black Robe Society that day—the one who drugged you."

Bai Yu averted his eyes, feigning indifference.

If he guessed correctly, this person was Imuir's uncle and also the one who pushed the duke into the water.

The meeting concluded without any issues, and the bag of white powder stayed tucked in Bai Yu's chest pocket, undisturbed.

The nobles departed one by one, and servants stepped in to clear the clutter of cups and plates. In no time, the hall was empty.

Yet, Imuir remained seated at the center.

The duke made no move to leave, with several Guards standing between him and Bai Yu.

The moment the banquet concluded, the Guards searched Bai Yu and discovered the white powder hidden in his pocket. Now, the powder was placed before the duke, its pure white crystals glinting ominously.

Imuir lowered his gaze, his fingers digging into the table, his expression dark and brooding. A tempest of silence seemed to be gathering in the hall, and the Guards kept their gazes lowered, none daring to meet his eyes.

The tales of the duke's cruelty among Illyria's populace were not mere hearsay. Imuir had personally killed five of his brothers, his methods as swift as they were merciless. He showed no mercy during the purges, and the earth of the western training grounds was dyed crimson from the blood of his many victims.

The end awaiting a traitor under his rule was all too predictable.

Bai Yu had just set down his utensils, his face a mask of serenity.

They stood locked in a tense silence for what felt like an eternity—perhaps it was only Imuir who seethed with tension, while Bai Yu remained unflappable.

Imuir held a tin utensil in his hand, gripping it tighter and tighter until the metal bent and collided, emitting a nerve-wracking screech.

At last, the duke shattered the silence, his voice laced with an odd cadence: "By the look of you, you already know why I've surrounded you?"

Bai Yu nodded: "I know."

Imuir let out a bitter, angry laugh: "You know? Then do you know what happens to traitors under my rule?"

His voice was a low, commanding growl, though a subtle rasp betrayed his inner turmoil.

Bai Yu: "I also know."

Imuir sneered: "You also know? From the look of you, it seems like you don't."

The duke's arsenal of tortures was enough to shatter even the strongest will, forcing the most resolute man to his knees, pleading for mercy.

Imuir suddenly stood up: "Butler, come and tell Mr. Bai how we dealt with the last member of The Black Robe Society."

When rage consumed the duke, his exterior was deceptively calm. His face showed almost no emotion, but the tin utensil in his hand bore deep finger marks.

The butler dared not even breathe loudly, keeping his head down and saying meekly: "The last member of The Black Robe Society attempted to carry out a terrorist attack during the celebration, bringing explosives into the center of the event. He was discovered by the Guards, detained on the spot, and sent to the dungeon. Our Guards broke his fingers one by one, poured boiling wax into his skin, mouth, and ears, and then tied him to a rack, interrogating him for three days with a barbed whip. Only then did he reveal the source of the explosives and his accomplices. Subsequently, we captured all those involved."

Imuir's cold gaze fell forward, looking at some unknown spot in the hall. His eyes were unfocused, without purpose, just avoiding eye contact with the doctor.

In a place the doctor could not see, the duke's nails dug into the table, scraping off large patches of paint.

Imuir: "Do you know what that person looked like when he was carried out?"

The butler: "When that person was carried out, his voice was hoarse from screaming, his entire body had no intact skin, and he was barely breathing. He died before we could even take him to the execution ground."

"..."

Bai Yu's cold eyes finally showed a slight ripple, and he sighed almost imperceptibly: "What does the duke want me to do by telling me all this?"

Torture was for interrogation, but The Black Robe Society operated on a single-line contact system, and Bai Yu had no extra information.

"..."

A silence as still as death.

Imuir curled his fingers in silence.

Why had he told the doctor all this?

Was it to intimidate the doctor, to instill fear? Was it to prepare to carry out these punishments, to terrify the doctor?

No, neither of these.

Imuir harbored only a faint hope in his heart. He hoped Bai Yu would offer a few words of explanation, even if it was just some useless nonsense.

To claim he wasn't a spy, that he was framed, that he didn't know about the white powder, that he never meant to poison the tea—to spout these unbelievable lies... In short, to say anything at all.

But Bai Yu remained silent.

He openly admitted to the charges, straightforward and unhesitating, without the slightest resistance, as if declaring, "Yes, it's exactly as you suspect. I am the spy. I came to kill you. Everything I did before was to ensure your death today."

...

Imuir's body quivered faintly, almost imperceptibly, and he immediately braced himself against the table.

Since the assassination attempt, his health had deteriorated, leaving him prone to dizziness and tinnitus. Bai Yu had tailored his diet, and after careful care, Imuir had recently recovered from these symptoms.

But now, the familiar sensations of blood loss and dizziness surged back, forcing him to brace himself against the dining table to remain upright.

The steward ventured cautiously, "Your Grace, what shall we do with Bai Yu?"

By protocol, he should be thrown into the dungeon and interrogated harshly to extract every possible detail. But given the Duke's condition, they dared not take initiative.

Imuir took a deep breath.

It felt as though his soul had been torn from his body. In a cold, emotionless tone, he rasped, "Take him away."

The steward asked, "Where to?"

Imuir hesitated for a long moment, then, through clenched teeth, uttered: "...The dungeon."