The Former Empress Roughly Hides Her Abilities - Chapter 127

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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【Chapter 127】

“So what you’re saying, miss…”

Martan tilted his head to one side and loosely raised the corners of his mouth.

“Is that I’m a tax evader who failed to report income tax?”

“That’s correct.”

Her voice was cold enough that not even a needle could penetrate it.

Martan blinked several times as if he couldn’t understand what he’d just heard.

A few seconds later, he burst into laughter mixed with hollow amusement and mockery.

“Are you stupid? Where in the world is there a criminal who reports taxes?”

Smuggled liquor and gambling were illegal. They weren’t even legitimate businesses, so why would he pay taxes?

“Profits obtained from illegal businesses are also income, so failing to report them constitutes tax evasion.”

Whether income was generated and whether that income was obtained legally were separate matters.

“Ah, is that so?”

Martan remained relaxed despite his restricted movement.

This wasn’t his first or second time experiencing something like this.

[Public sentiment has been poor lately, so please just go in for a while.]

[So how long will it take this time?]

[It won’t exceed a month.]

As a famous criminal, he would go to prison for show and then be released again.

With his status as a collateral member of the Imperial Family and the Emperor as his backing, no one dared treat him carelessly.

‘Besides, they won’t have grounds to lock me up anyway.’

Martan lifted his chin and laughed.

“So how do you plan to prove that I have profits?”

He was thorough in managing his capital too.

“I don’t have a single bank account in my name. Legally, I’m penniless.”

However, Rianel remained unshaken.

“As a result of searching your business premises, we discovered large quantities of expensive luxury goods. If you have no regular income, could you please explain the source of funds used to purchase those items?”

“Ah, those?”

Martan laughed lightly.

“They were all gifts. Go ahead and look for records of me buying them with my own money – see if you can find any.”

The calculation that they couldn’t do anything with just circumstantial evidence supported his composure.

Rianel paid no mind and took out the next item.

“However, in the secret ledger found at the gambling den, we discovered records of large profits being distributed to you.”

In that instant, Martan’s expression changed.

The smile that seemed like it would hang there forever suddenly froze, and he straightened his body that had been leaning against the backrest as if it were his own territory.

“What? How did you find that?”

“While inspecting the interior of the gambling den, we discovered a location where the sound was different when we tapped the inner wall, leading us to determine there was a high possibility of a hidden space. We secured the ledger from inside there.”

Up to this point, it was a reasonable story, so Martan accepted it.

“That’s fine and all. But how did you interpret the contents?”

Everything should have been recorded in code.

“That’s not an important matter for clarifying the truth.”

“It is important! Of course it is! You found out because there’s a traitor inside, right?”

Martan’s eyes gleamed.

“Tell me. Who was the informant?”

Martan leaned his upper body toward Rianel as much as possible, peering closely at her face. As if doing so would allow him to read fragments of emotions she couldn’t hide.

“There was no informant.”

Rianel’s voice still had no inflection.

Martan fell silent for a moment, then suddenly burst into laughter.

However, unlike before, this laughter lacked composure. A smile forcibly drawn out to hide anxiety and suspicion flowed down from his lips without settling there.

“Right, I know protecting information sources is your principle. But think about it logically – without an informant, how could you have decoded our cipher? And so quickly at that.”

“It was at a level we could roughly review and figure out.”

As if to say your cipher was merely at that level.

Martan’s jawline trembled. Anger traveled down his throat and spread throughout his entire body.

“Don’t lie! Our cipher was perfect. There’s no way you could have figured it out!”

“I have not made any false statements.”

The Tax Bureau people watching the interrogation all shook their heads in unison.

That damn “roughly” was holding another person captive.

‘This will take quite a while to resolve.’

But that was fine. This was already a problem with a predetermined answer.

Whether Martan became exhausted and lost his mind, or collapsed from raging alone.

His defeat was already confirmed.

“Let’s go eat.”

“Shall we? Oh my, this back of mine. I need to exercise.”

Since Rianel was scheduled to have a meal with Asil today as well, the Tax Bureau people dispersed on their own.

Asil happened to be away briefly to report to upper management.

Since there was no regulation requiring interrogation subjects to be starved, Rianel adjusted Martan’s restraints, moving his hands from behind his back to the front.

After confirming he was in a state where he could eat, she opened her lunch box and held out a sandwich.

“Please eat this.”

“What is this?”

“It’s a sandwich.”

“This is…?”

Martan’s eyebrows twisted strangely.

The bread was burnt black, and the dehydrated filling was bizarrely twisted. Rather than food, it looked more like a surreal work that evoked the desert wasteland.

“I prepared it myself.”

Until now, preparing lunch had been Asil’s responsibility. However, Rianel thought it was unfair for only one person to keep cooking.

So this time, she tried making sandwiches herself.

‘But considering the external appearance, smell, and various other aspects, there seems to be a significant difference from what Asil made.’

She wanted to know what was different, but Asil evaluated anything she made positively.

For cross-verification, she needed a third party’s perspective.

“Please provide an objective opinion after tasting.”

Martan glanced at Rianel.

‘She wants me to eat this?’

Is this even food?

But when he saw her take a bite, pointless defiance arose in him.

‘Well, will I die from eating it?’

However.

“Keh?”

He spat it out immediately with a small cough.

‘What is this? A truth serum?’

Setting aside the salty and bitter tastes that assaulted his tongue, the hard and dry texture created an indescribably complex flavor.

Martan hurriedly looked at Rianel. She was carefully observing the sandwich with bite marks.

“The meat is overcooked, and more salt was added than the proper amount.”

Her tone was like reviewing experimental results.

“I don’t think that’s the problem? This is truly creative. The food became garbage.”

“I asked you to exclude subjective expressions.”

“Then let me rephrase, miss. It tastes absolutely terrible. Anyone you ask will reach the same conclusion.”

He also wondered why she was analyzing that thing.

“I cooked according to the established sequence. But since I failed, I will re-examine the cooking process and correct the errors.”

Rianel could cook too.

However, only with cooking methods she had already mastered.

It wasn’t for nothing that she kept making the same thing.

“Just throw it away and buy food from now on, teacher.”

Martan threw the sandwich into the trash without hesitation. He disposed of the sandwich left for Asil in a similar manner.

‘This is waste that shouldn’t exist in this world.’

Just as this threat to humanity was eliminated.

“I’m here.”

Asil entered with an expectant voice. The corners of his mouth were raised high.

“I heard you would be cooking personally today, so I was looking forward to it. I even ate only a minimal breakfast.”

Asil looked around as he approached.

“So where is my cooking…”

He froze upon learning the whole story.

“You said you threw it away?”

Something I couldn’t even taste, how dare you?

“You should thank me. It’s better not to eat that-“

“Don’t lie and tell me the truth. Where did you hide it?”

Martan, who was tied up, couldn’t resist and was suspended in the air along with his chair.

Rather than pressure, indignation welled up, making him choke up.

If you were going to kill someone, just kill them – why would you hide cooking that’s not even good enough for medicine?

However, since grabbing Martan’s collar wouldn’t make the non-existent sandwich fall, Asil decided to settle for indirect experience.

“So what did it taste like? At least describe it.”

“Right, it tasted like heaven. Happy now?”

If two people ate it, both would die and go to heaven – that kind of taste.

“It can’t be helped then.”

I’ll have to try even the remaining traces.

Asil pulled her hand toward him. As if tasting a delicacy of the ages, his carefully extended tongue traced its tip.

And Asil licked Rianel’s finger.

“It’s sweet.”

His voice was rich with affection.

‘Ugh, damn it.’

Martan shuddered.

He had known the two were lovers since they stormed into the gambling den together, but he hadn’t expected to witness it so blatantly.

The intimacy and affection that excluded him thickened the air’s density, making it difficult to breathe.

“You two are damaging my taste and vision.”

“That’s merely an illusion caused by cognitive dissonance. Your bodily organs have no damaged parts.”

“What do you know! I’m being defiled. I’m being ruined!”

Rianel remained unwavering even during their display of affection.

“Self-diagnosis by non-medical personnel lacks reliability, and it’s difficult to objectively perceive one’s condition in a state of extreme agitation.”

“You said it well! Do you know why I’m agitated? It’s all because of you!”

“That claim is merely your subjective assumption.”

“Assumption my ass! Grab any passerby and ask them! They’ll all answer like me!”

Martan vented his frustration, but it was a story that didn’t work on Rianel, who liked verification.

“If you wish to continue such claims, please present causal evidence that can specify me as the cause.”

“Gah!”

After spending what felt like time trapped in a mental and temporal chamber, Martan finally raised the white flag.

“I, I’ll confess.”

Truly, he wanted to get out of this insane place.

* * *

“Here, the evidence you wanted.”

Martan wrote an address on paper and held it out.

It was the location where he had hidden the secret agreement made with Yuna.

The document specified how both sides would distribute the difference in project costs from the statue construction project promoted by the Imperial Palace.

It was also direct evidence that Yuna had tried to embezzle the budget.

“I don’t trust the Imperial Palace. Changing their words when the situation shifts even slightly is their specialty.”

Especially the current Emperor, who cared about public sentiment and attention, made this even more so.

So Martan had kept documents written directly in Yuna’s handwriting as a contingency plan.

This document was his insurance and collateral, but.

‘Anyway, if the project gets nullified, it’ll become waste paper.’

Martan decided to sell out Yuna to survive.

“Is that enough now? Untie me quickly.”

Martan struggled against his bonds.

He didn’t want to stay in this room even a moment longer.

“Before that, you must pay your overdue taxes in full.”

“Wow. You guys are really persistent…”

Martan gritted his teeth and muttered, but accepted the truth that taxes couldn’t be avoided no matter what.

Anyway, the treasury recovery was complete.

They had also obtained the evidence they wanted.

Asil looked down at the agreement.

“This document alone won’t be enough to attack the Imperial Palace.”

“That’s right.”

This time too, the Emperor had put Yuna at the forefront as a precaution.

However.

“We can bring down at least one person, can’t we?”

Anyway, Yuna was also one of the main culprits in this incident.

‘She was also the person who poisoned me.’

This could also be called revenge.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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