I Start with a Bad Hand!

‘Ah, why are these bastards in a romance fantasy world…?’

They should be case studies in a psychopathology textbook. Even before I knew Hayden was behind all this, I often thought this while looking at the characters in this novel that existed in print.

Without a hint of a smile, there are too many characters in this novel who need psychiatric help. For the well-being of individuals living in this world and for social stability, it seemed necessary for at least one psychiatrist to come into this world, and frankly, I needed one too.

Of course, my thoughts changed a bit after I found out that Hayden was behind everything.

‘Ah, why is this bastard in a romance fantasy world…?’

He should be a case study in criminal law presentations. From what I know now, there’s attempted murder, arson, violations of drug control laws… or maybe not? Anyway, there’s stalking, trespassing, and if he’s of age, grossly associating with underage girls… Just thinking about it makes me angry. Considering Hayden, who’s like a complete package of crimes… Yes. Whatever grudge he held against the ducal house, what he did to take revenge on the Duke’s legitimate child was pretty insane.

“But really, his way of thinking seems a bit different from normal people.”

Right after getting the documents back from Roxanne, Agnes and I concluded that it was Hayden who had secretly opened my door. Probably, he ransacked my room to find the documents, but hid when someone approached, and then Roxanne took the documents and ran, causing the plan to go awry, was our consensus.

Why would he want to burn those documents? That, I don’t know.

My guess was ‘Because Hayden likes Roxanne. Because he wants to protect her?’ while Agnes’s guess was ‘So that he can control you more easily.’

“Seriously. The fact that he thought of setting fire to that large street, or trying to repurchase someone’s cut hair and place it back. It clearly seems insane.”

Agnes answered indifferently while copying the contents of the letter. Deciding to return ‘that’ letter stolen from the Duchess’s room, we decided to copy its contents first.

“So, that’s what’s scary. How do you predict someone whose way of thinking doesn’t fall within a normal spectrum? What if he suddenly goes crazy and sets the academy on fire? He could burn down his own room to destroy evidence.”

“Evidence… what? You sometimes use words I don’t understand.”

“Destroy all the evidence. Ah, it sounds a bit off, but it seems like there’s an arson impulse in that family’s tradition.”

“What do you mean, an arson impulse is a family tradition?”

“Anyway… Ah, we figured out that he’s suspicious after all this mess. What do we do if we just let him go?”

As I clutched my head in frustration, Agnes leaned in and whispered to me.

“Can’t we just ask His Highness to kill him quietly?”

“What? Are you joking? How could we ask for such a thing! Is he an executioner? How can I ask His Highness to harm a civilian just because of my personal grudge? Besides, his crimes haven’t even been properly revealed yet.”

When I protested in horror, Agnes gave me a look that seemed to say, ‘Why not?’

“But if it’s someone as vile as Hayden, he might grant the request. After all, he’s from the Lord Ferris family. That bloodline should have been cut off long ago.”

“Sometimes you really sound like a citizen of the Empire.”

Who else would I be if not a citizen of the Empire? I ignored Agnes’s grumbling, but I felt uneasy. I knew that Icarus might actually grant such a request. But still… I didn’t want to ask. Sure, in this world where even a teenage Icarus killed people for the country, taking Hayden’s life might not seem like a big deal. But…

‘Hayden didn’t actually kill anyone himself. Except for the arson…’

Even though Hayden’s actions had murderous intent, he had never directly killed anyone. He always used tools, fire, others, or his own despair to try and kill, but he never strangled anyone with his own hands.

‘Should I call him a coward… or should I say he’s mastered the art of indirect murder?’

I knew that hitting Hayden over the head with something like a hammer might be the easiest solution, but I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want to do it myself, and I didn’t want to order anyone else to do it either.

‘Damn it, then the only way is to make sure Hayden is investigated and sent to prison through proper legal procedures. But how do I do that?’

However, I couldn’t trust the investigative agencies of this Empire where Elius was the Crown Prince, and I couldn’t ignore the existence of Cedric’s ducal house that held the next most power.

‘And more importantly, if it’s revealed that Hayden is a Lord Ferris, it’ll also come out that Roxanne isn’t a legitimate child… Will they just stand by and watch that happen?’

Although Roxanne had told me she would leave all the choices to me, I couldn’t fully trust that. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Roxanne, but I couldn’t trust the irrational actions of the people around her. And in the eyes of Elius or the ducal house, they’d probably dislike me more than they disliked the situation. In such a scenario, I couldn’t just ask them to believe based solely on my intuition and circumstantial evidence that ‘Hayden is suspicious.’

When I confirmed that Hayden was away and returned the letter to its original place with Agnes’s help, we continued discussing the issue.

“Anyway, trying to harm me… I don’t think that’s enough to pressure an investigation. The only thing we could leverage is his birth as a Lord Ferris. But with all his relatives dead, how can he prove he’s from that family?”

“His… grandfather? Uncle? Someone is still alive, right?”

“Do you know where they are?”

“Isn’t it certain they are in Sereti?”

“It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

I placed the letter back in the hidden spot on the floor. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Hayden didn’t seem to know that we had discovered his secret place. At that moment, there was something odd on the desk. A blank sheet of paper, wrinkled as if it had been soaked in water several times.

‘Wrinkled….’

Why hasn’t he thrown that away yet? I saw it in his drawer last time too. It was mixed with ordinary stiff papers in Hayden’s drawer.

Then, for some reason, something clicked in my mind. Children’s detective cartoons, children’s detective novels. All the science textbooks and workbooks with ‘fun science activities’ sections that try to engage children. The recurring theme in all those materials.

‘Is it that? The secret writing that appears when burned…?’

Ignoring Agnes’s urging to hurry up, I took another paper from his drawer that seemed similarly soaked. Ignoring her protests about stealing from his room again, I approached the fireplace, which was lit even in summer, and held the paper close to the fire. Despite her yelling, ‘Are you crazy? Why are you burning that?’ I continued.

“Nothing…”

No secret writing appeared. The paper just turned brown.

“What are you doing?”

Ignoring Agnes’s incredulous expression, I stood and stared at the paper.

***

“Your uncle is also detained in the Empire right now. Roxanne had a hard time keeping you in the Empire. You were too focused on her to notice.”

“…Nonsense. He changes his address regularly; there’s no way someone like you could find him.”

“Why do you think it’s impossible? People are already searching through your room for those secret documents.”

I had overlooked one crucial detail. The essence of a secret document is that it must be hidden when necessary, and burning it cannot conceal the secret again.

At that moment, I recalled my tutoring student’s younger sibling. The preschooler their mother was pushing towards a science high school through early education because the older sibling was hopeless. All those countless science experiment kits that made me think, ‘Wow… they have all sorts of things these days.’

“You blatantly left flour in your room. That’s just too… basic. It’s laughable to think I wouldn’t recognize such a simple trick.”

Among those kits was one for writing secret letters. One of its components was flour. I remembered this thanks to my student, who, while taking a break from solving problems, would exclaim, ‘Teacher, this is amazing!’ and play with their younger sibling’s science kit, driving me crazy.

“If you dust flour to write letters, and then apply the solution you had hidden, the letters appear or disappear. That’s how I figured it out. Your uncle? He sends you the address every time he moves, doesn’t he?”

Of course, I didn’t realize it right away. I knew about the existence of such a kit, but not the exact ratio of the solution or how to make the letters appear or disappear. It took several trials, errors, and frantic efforts to discover the method.

Despite my words, Hayden showed no reaction. He just stood there, staring at me. Then, in an instant, Hayden grabbed my collar and pushed me hard, whispering.

“So?”

“Ugh.”

“So, what’s your plan if I just kill you here? I could push you off this clock tower and then kill myself too.”

Even as my head throbbed and my throat was gripped tightly, I managed to lift the corners of my mouth into a smile.

“No, you can’t.”

But I was certain. Hayden couldn’t push me off this clock tower. He wouldn’t even be able to strangle me to death. Whispering into his ear, as he looked at me with bloodshot eyes, I said,

“I guarantee it. You can’t kill me.”