The Obsessive Male Leads Want to Eat Me Alive - Chapter 9

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

Chapter 9
The informal trial finally began.
The participants were Marquis Corel, Mimosa, and Putolio.
Along with Sisrain and myself, there were five children who had helped prepare the meal.
‘So that’s Marquis Corel.’
He was a portly man with an anxious expression, wearing a white horsehair wig typical of judges.
And the moment he arrived, he did something quite peculiar.
Spritz, spritz—
His secretary was diligently spraying something from a perfume bottle onto the chair where he would sit.
‘The smell of alcohol…!’
Then he carefully polished the marquis’s chair with a silk handkerchief until it gleamed.
Marquis Corel seemed to notice the bewildered expressions and offered an explanation.
“Forgive me, but I’m rather sensitive about cleanliness.”
‘Just as I suspected—severe obsessive-compulsive tendencies.’
The man couldn’t even sit on a bare chair. I narrowed my eyes, observing the spectacle.
A person afflicted with such extreme health anxiety that it had manifested into obsessive cleanliness.
After making his various demands, the marquis shook hands in turn with Mimosa and Putolio.
“Oh my, Marquis… I’m so sorry to trouble such a busy and esteemed person with such a trivial matter!”
“Not at all, Count.”
His reply was oddly cold, and when he raised his hand, his secretary promptly exchanged his gloves for fresh ones.
‘Good heavens, I’m actually witnessing this.’
The sight was so amusing to the children that they all covered their mouths with their small hands and giggled.
But they quickly fell silent when they caught Mimosa’s stern gaze.
“These are the children who helped prepare the meal for today’s distinguished guests.”
“I’m Shasha!”
“I’m Julian! I helped make the bread.”
The five children then introduced themselves in turn.
The girls lifted their skirts and performed The Forest’s traditional greeting with an adorable flutter, while the boys clasped their hands together and made eye contact with the adults.
“I’m Anette.”
Just as I was about to complete my traditional greeting and step back, it happened.
“…!”
Putolio suddenly grabbed my hand and yanked me forward. He whispered, his voice low enough for only me to hear.
“I thought you’d escaped, yet here you are. Reckless little thing. Your greeting was charming enough, but I don’t find children cute.”
Menacing words directed at a twelve-year-old child.
“Unprofitable brats aren’t cute. I especially despise presumptuous girls like you.”
I tried to wrench my wrist free, but he only tightened his grip cruelly.
“…Ugh!”
“Be careful. I’ve heard many children are kidnapped after leaving The Forest. You could easily end up a slave if you’re not careful, couldn’t you? Hehehehe.”
That was when it happened.
Sisrain shoved the count away forcefully and pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly.
The boy’s crimson eyes fixed upon the Marquis with a dangerous, wavering intensity.
Sisrain spoke with a chilling, expressionless tone.
“If you lay a hand on Anette, I’ll kill you.”
The palpable killing intent made the Marquis flinch.
“…Y-you insolent slave!”
I suddenly buried my head in Sisrain’s embrace and blinked my eyes.
Goodness, what a fierce little one. If Sisrain were just twelve years older, I’d be swooning….
‘He’s terrified himself, yet he’s still trying to protect me. My precious boy is truly remarkable.’
My nose tingled with emotion.
“You should exercise caution, Marquis. As you know, that child is an ‘Awakened One.'”
Mimosa offered a timely warning.
The Marquis’s face flushed crimson, and though he seemed desperate to retort, he caught sight of Marquis Corel still making a fuss and wisely sealed his lips.
He had no desire to fall further out of favor.
And for good reason—today was a pivotal day for his very survival.
Fifty million gold might not seem particularly pressing for a thriving slave trader under normal circumstances, but when facing bankruptcy and the abyss of ruin, it became a lifeline worth grasping desperately.
Thus, he would handle this trial with the delicacy of moving a raw egg.
He would do everything in his power not to offend the temperamental Marquis.
The Marquis, observing the situation with detachment, opened his mouth casually.
“Let us proceed swiftly. Who shall speak regarding the case to be heard in today’s summary trial?”
“I shall speak!”
Putolio eagerly stepped forward.
His expression was contemptible—that of someone desperate to present matters in his favor.
“….”
Mimosa appeared to have been a moment too slow. The Marquis had granted Putolio the right to speak.
“Very well, proceed.”
Putolio rose with a smirk and began to speak.
“Your Grace, today’s matter concerns a young slave named Sisrain, formerly of my ‘Ferdes Slave Market,’ and—achoo!”
“…!”
At the sudden sneeze, Marquis Corel regarded the Marquis with a look of utter disdain.
“What was that unsanitary sneeze, Marquis?”
Putolio wiped his mouth with an embarrassed smile.
“My apologies. A sneeze came upon me unexpectedly. Allow me to continue. Today’s matter—achoo! Forgive me, achoo!”
Marquis Corel exclaimed with displeasure.
“What is the meaning of this conduct in a sacred court of law?!”
At that moment, I interjected smoothly, blinking with grave concern.
“Could those be symptoms of a contagious disease?”
“…!”
“…!”
The atmosphere froze as though struck by a bomb, and Marquis Corel’s face drained of all color.
The blood drained swiftly from the Marquis’s face.
Watching their reactions, I laughed inwardly like a mischievous little demon.
‘The effect of the peach snack is quite good, isn’t it?’
* * *
Three hours earlier.
Putolio’s secretary had come to the Forest first to convey his master’s tastes and preferences.
“The Count is quite fond of meat dishes. He especially loves duck.”
“The Marquis mentioned he enjoys meat dishes as well. Then roasted duck would be perfect!”
“My, you’re quite sharp for such a young one.”
I responded with the bright, clever demeanor of a model student, each word crisp and clear.
“Thank you, sir!”
The secretary smiled warmly.
“Oh, and is there any food the Count cannot eat due to ‘allergies’?”
I asked with a benevolent smile. In this country, nobles typically avoided allergenic foods strictly from childhood, never having the opportunity to overcome them.
So it was quite common for the nobility to have at least one allergy.
“I’ll instruct the head chef to exclude that dish.”
“How thorough you are. Let me think… ah, yes!”
The secretary, who had been stroking his chin, suddenly remembered and raised his index finger, explaining methodically.
“The Count has an allergy to peach fuzz. However, he’s fine with stewed peaches or those preserved in jars.”
Shortly after.
I gathered the children who would help me prepare today’s meal and spoke.
“Sisrain is a ‘tree’ just like us. But it looks like he’s about to be dragged away as a slave. We’re not just going to leave him be, are we?”
Children’s friendships run deep.
I spoke to the children gazing at me with sparkling eyes.
“Who wants to help my friend Sisrain?”
Caroline pressed her small lips together with determination before speaking.
“If you’re Anette’s friend, then you’re my friend too! I’ll help!”
Julian’s large eyes sparkled as he spoke.
“I wanna help my friend too.”
Shasha spoke up.
“Sisrain is really good at blowing bubbles! So we have to help him!”
…Well, that’s an odd reason, but thank you, Shasha.
Then the other children eagerly raised their hands as well.
It seemed they had grown fond of Sisrain simply from playing in the water together.
That was fortunate.
“But how are we supposed to help?”
Shasha tilted her pink head curiously.
“It’s simple.”
I smiled and pulled out a basket. It was overflowing with sweet peaches covered in fuzzy skin that I’d brought from the pantry.
“I need all of you to eat these peaches deliciously right now!”
“Wow, tasty and easy!”
The little ones sat in a circle, their small hands eagerly devouring peaches with delighted “yum yums.”
When the makeshift trial began, they fluttered their skirts—covered in peach fuzz—and grasped Putolio’s hand to greet him.
It was merely an adorable gesture, but it was enough to captivate the marquis.
* * *
“A… plague, you say?”
Marquis Corel asked as though seized by convulsions. I explained with perfect composure, feigning ignorance.
“I heard that those infected with the Ferdes plague sneeze and cough. Then fever sets in, and the skin across their entire body begins to rot…”
“…!!!”
Marquis Corel’s expression twisted as though his own flesh were decomposing before his eyes.
Naturally, Putolio sprang up in vehement denial.
“Good heavens, not me! Cough, cough!”
He desperately clamped his hand over his mouth, but the sneezing had already transformed into violent coughing, tears and mucus streaming down his face.
I smiled faintly—though only Putolio could see it from his angle—and spoke with feigned concern.
“But my lord, your forehead is burning like an ember! I should fetch you some fever medicine.”
Putolio, startled, shoved me away and glared.
“Utter lies! Cough, cough. This cunning wench is trying to frame me…!”
But the marquis was already consumed with terror.
“Stop that filthy coughing at once! That is an order!”
“My lord, feel my forehead! There is no fever whatsoever!”
It was precisely when Putolio lunged desperately toward the marquis to prove his innocence.
Smack—!
The marquis’s thick palm, swung with all his might in disgust, connected with Putolio’s gaunt frame, sending him crashing to the ground in an undignified heap.
“Ow…!”
The blow was so forceful that his front teeth scattered like popcorn.
“Don’t you dare approach me! Get away! Back off!”
Marquis Corel, his face contorted with fury, dragged his chair all the way to the wall to escape. His ponytail quivered with trembling.
Putolio struggled to rise from the floor, groaning in place, but no one helped him up.
His face flushed crimson as a volcano, the marquis spoke urgently to Mimosa.
“Let’s proceed with the trial as quickly as possible. What is today’s case?”
Mimosa, unflustered despite the sudden chaos, replied calmly.
“The marquis claims ownership of a child named Sisrain from our Forest. Apparently, the boy was originally a slave of the Ferdes Slave Market, but due to negligent management, the marquis lost him.”
Upon hearing this, Marquis Corel’s expression crumpled.
“How audacious—to claim ownership after losing the child through your own negligence!”
“…!!!”
Putolio, who had expected his superior to take his side, suddenly wore an expression as though a skewer had pierced his entire body.
“My lord…?”
His split lips twisted miserably.

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