After a while, when the room quieted down, Abel leaned back in his chair and spoke with a leisurely tone.

"Let's figure out what this is about first. We'll decide what to do after that."

"I can't say anything until I get a definite answer," Gardner muttered, his tone defensive.

"Then the trial ends here. If you're transferred to the Imperial Prison, you won't have another chance to talk."

"…"

Gardner chewed his lips, a clear sign of hesitation. But then, with a deep sigh, he finally opened his mouth.

Truthfully, Abel had never intended to let Gardner go. From the beginning, he was only going to listen to see if anything remotely useful came out—then dismiss it.

But what Gardner said couldn't just be ignored.

"There's someone who taught me how to handle industrial accidents and commit the Dapan Group's crimes. That person is… Moran. He's a servant under Chief Bazix Soltri Seri."

He lifted his chin proudly, as if expecting applause for this revelation. It felt like Gardner was saying, This should be enough for you, right?

But Abel only responded with a faint smile.

He raised his right hand slightly, and the court knights immediately surrounded the defendants. Their task: extradite the three main perpetrators in the Devante murder case.

Then Gardner snapped, shouting with frustration, "Hey! You said you'd listen first! Isn't it normal to at least say something back?"

Abel stared at him with cold, unmoving eyes.

"This is my answer."

With a subtle gesture, the court knights moved. It was clear they knew exactly what Abel meant—they had to clean this up fast.

Soon enough, the three criminals were dragged out of the courtroom.

'If you're going to serve a sentence, at least try to live like a decent human being.'

Abel gave a polite nod to the audience, then stepped down from the judge's seat, his expression calm and collected.

---

As soon as the trial ended, Crawford's political circles fell into chaos.

Normally, a statement like Gardner's would have been buried without a second thought. After all, the accusation was aimed at none other than Bazix Soltri Seri—the head of the Soltri family.

Given the nature of local prosecutors, who were quick to dismiss anything inconvenient, this should've gone nowhere.

But not this time.

'I'm handling this myself.'

Abel wasn't about to let such an opportunity go to waste. This was his chance to tear down the Soltri family's influence—and he intended to seize it.

He summoned Moran for questioning and began applying pressure from all sides.

At first, Abel thought it would be easy.

Just lean on a few of the Soltri household's errand boys, and the rest would spill out.

But things weren't going according to plan.

"I've said this before—it was just a joke made while drinking. Are you really taking that seriously?"

"So, you confirm you said it?"

"Yes."

"And you claim it has nothing to do with Bazix Soltri?"

"Of course. He's not the kind of man to be involved in such things anyway."

Moran was far more stubborn than Abel had expected.

Was it loyalty? Or fanaticism?

The man didn't seem to care one bit about his own safety. His only concern was protecting Bazix Soltri at any cost.

'Nothing shows up on his character profile window. So how do I get a clue?'

Abel felt like the testimony he had worked so hard to extract was slipping through his fingers. Normally, the truth would emerge with a bit of digging.

That's when a black flying squirrel poked its head out from the inner room of the office.

—Hey, human duke.

Shuguri. The squirrel.

Interrupting in the middle of an interrogation, as if this were a casual tea party.

Abel raised an eyebrow and gave a slight nod. The look in his eyes said, Not now.

But Shuguri didn't take the hint.

—Don't worry, he can't hear me. I'm only using telepathy on you.

'So what?' Abel thought sharply.

He tried shouting mentally, but of course it didn't work. He wasn't a telepath.

Still, Shuguri seemed to understand his irritation just by eye contact.

—Their coffers must be overflowing. What are they building on the other side of Mount Berkal? Isn't the tax collector's job just to collect taxes? Why poke into business projects?

Abel wasn't listening too seriously. Initially, he planned to let Shuguri's gossip fly in one ear and out the other.

But then—

Mount Berkal. Serijang.

'Wait… Bazix Soltri is starting a construction project?'

Abel frowned. Something didn't add up.

Tax collectors had significant power, sure. But why construction? Why now?

And more importantly—why beyond Mount Berkal?

'Because I cleared out most of the monsters… Rock Rangers, Specters...'

The timing wasn't a coincidence. They had waited for the road to be safe before making a move.

They were betting that Abel would soon be removed from power.

'So, should I go have a look myself?'

He tossed aside the research papers and sank comfortably into his office sofa, clearly indicating that the interrogation was over.

Moran, however, still looked tense.

Abel yawned exaggeratedly and muttered, "Man, I'm tired. Just take it easy, alright? It doesn't seem like you've made any serious mistake, so let's keep things light."

"Y-Yes…"

Abel picked up a few documents and flipped through them casually.

"According to the records, Bazix Soltri Seri never filed a business plan."

"Because our original duty is tax collection."

"But you've been focusing on development lately, haven't you?"

"That may be true. But I'm just a servant. I don't know what lofty ambitions the Serijang has."

Abel chuckled, rubbing his hands together with a sly grin.

"If the Soltri family is involved, I'm sure they're hoping to get some crumbs out of it."

Finally, the wall around Moran began to crack.

"Of course, the Marquis of Soltri would have to provide funding. They are a historic family, after all…"

Bingo.

Abel leaned forward, his tone sharper now.

"Izukaya. He's the Marquis of Soltri, right? Then tell me—what authority does the Serijang have to handle family funds?"

"…Ah. No, that's not…"

Just like that, Moran's carefully built defenses collapsed in an instant.

His lips trembled.

It had finally hit him—

He had made a fatal mistake.