The Villainess in the Childcare Story Doesn’t Hide Her Personality - Chapter 42

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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I pushed open the grand rosewood door, and my office—transformed completely from just days before—welcomed me.
‘It’s different. Truly different.’
Gone were the days when I couldn’t tell if this place was a warehouse or an office.
Gone too were my Finance Ministry years, when I’d worked without complaint at a desk gnawed by bookworms.
Now, surrounded by premium wallpaper and carpet, this was nothing short of paradise.
‘Ah, now there’s actual pleasure in working.’
My hand grew lighter as I turned each document page by page.
The same work, yet my mood shifted so dramatically depending on the environment.
‘This truly is heaven.’
Across from me, Director McGarvin leisurely tilted his teacup.
It was premium black tea procured by Duke Montina.
“An office more luxurious than my own home… I suppose I should stop shirking my duties now.”
…Was that really something to say in front of a subordinate?
‘Well, it doesn’t matter much.’
Director McGarvin’s mere presence in that position proved quite helpful.
Since meeting Timothy, he’d become considerably more favorable toward me as well.
I reached for the letter that had been delivered to my desk.
‘Sophia’s House… Joanna!’
When I’d hired someone to return the borrowed items, I’d also sent a letter with news of Cici, and it seemed her reply had arrived.
The moment I broke the seal, I found myself catching my breath.
The letter was smeared throughout with tear stains.
[Upon hearing the news, I was truly shocked and overjoyed… I hardly know what to say. That Cici—no, that the young lady—has found her family. It feels like a dream. I offer you my deepest gratitude, Vice Director.]
The letter, uncharacteristically somewhat disorganized for Joanna, was also filled with news from the Orphanage.
Details of what food supplies had been purchased with the so-called ‘Imperial funding’, how delighted the children were, how much it had helped the Orphanage’s finances…
[I realize I haven’t been taking proper care of myself, and the children have been worried. I’ve come to understand that I must prioritize my own health first. Please, Vice Director, take care of yourself as well.]
Sincerity seeped through every space between the characters.
‘…If only there were more people like Joanna in this world.’
Unfortunately, the world held far too many people far worse than her.
I folded the letter carefully and placed it in my desk drawer, then reached for the cookie box I’d bought this morning.
Crash!
With the sound of the door slamming against the wall, a man strode boldly into my office.
I recognized him immediately.
Tall and well-built, draped in a fur coat and jingling with pure gold ornaments, the man looked less like an orphanage director and more like a nouveau riche frequenting exclusive social clubs.
…’A textbook example of someone far worse than Joanna’ had just arrived.
“Who is Tessa Harrington!”
The man shouted first, without preamble.
“Hans Noark?”
I raised one eyebrow.
“What brings you here?”
Hans Noark.
An individual who operated an orphanage on the outskirts of the Capital, providing the finest welfare to unfortunate children.
In reality, he was a greedy hypocrite who pocketed sponsorship funds and donations.
Except on days when sponsors visited, the children received only enough food to keep them from starving, and they received no proper education whatsoever.
Money laundering was even suspected, so I compiled the evidence and sent it to the Finance Ministry… but seeing no response, it appeared they hadn’t uncovered any significant issues.
‘I’d hoped he would simply close the orphanage as instructed and transfer the children to another facility, but perhaps that was too much to expect.’
Noark slammed his hand on the desk with a sharp crack.
“This is blackmail! I’ll inform my esteemed relative about this!”
Huh?
‘Noark’ wasn’t even listed in the nobility registry?
As I tilted my head in confusion, Noark became consumed with even greater fury.
“Baron Pecho is my paternal uncle’s close friend!”
I took a breath and turned the phrase over in my mind once more.
I’d heard Baron Pecho’s name mentioned a few times before.
A family of modest rank but considerable wealth and distinguished lineage.
If he were to lodge a formal protest, it would certainly become troublesome.
However.
My paternal uncle’s friend… my paternal uncle’s friend…
In other words, my father’s cousin’s friend.
Wasn’t that essentially a stranger?
I retrieved a thick folder of documents that I’d carelessly shoved onto the bookshelf and began flipping through the pages deliberately.
“In any case.”
I spoke while rapidly scanning the documents.
“The director hasn’t properly cared for the children with those sponsorship funds, has he?”
“Not that again…! It’s all nothing but unfounded accusations! Do you know how much I’ve genuinely cared for these children all this time…!”
“Does someone who genuinely cares for children feed them flour that’s been sitting for years? Flour from a bankrupt grain merchant that you purchased for almost nothing?”
Joanna had eaten nothing but old flour dough because she couldn’t bear to waste food that went into her own mouth.
Yet this slovenly, grease-slicked man had fed the children expired flour because he begrudged spending those abundant sponsorship funds on them.
“Th-that was a misunderstanding! At that time, funds were temporarily insufficient, and I even have a doctor’s certification stating there were no health concerns from consuming it.”
“Is this also a misunderstanding?”
I flipped through the folder rapidly and showed him a page filled with numbers.
Noark’s eyes bulged in every direction.
“Th-this is…”
He had every reason to be shocked.
It was a table that clearly itemized all the sponsorship funds he’d received and showed exactly how much he’d actually spent on the orphanage.
“Twelve percent.”
I helpfully read the number aloud.
“That’s the portion of all the sponsorship funds you’ve received that you spent on the children.”
“…”
“Where did you spend the rest of the money?”
My gaze naturally drifted toward the gleaming gold buttons on Noark’s jacket.
I wasn’t actually asking out of curiosity.
From the moment I stepped into the office, the stench of money and greed had clung to him.
Watching Hans Noark’s face flush a deep crimson, I could see he had no ready answer.
“Shall I ask your patrons directly? They’re certainly aware of where their contributions go, so they’d be happy to explain, wouldn’t they?”
I flipped through the documents again with deliberate slowness.
All that meticulous organization was finally paying dividends.
“Let’s see… Countess Mater… Baroness Seto…”
As the patrons’ names spilled out, Hans Noark finally opened his mouth.
His flushed face had drained to a ghastly pallor, beads of cold sweat glistening at his temples.
“It’s all a misunderstanding, Vice Director. I’m afraid the materials I prepared were woefully incomplete. If you could grant me time, I can explain everything, just a few days—”
There it was.
Suddenly so polite?
I smiled as I replied.
“A busy person like yourself needn’t waste time on such matters. I’ve already completed a full three-year audit—every penny that came in and every penny that went out.”
Hans Noark’s breath caught sharply.
His words came out in strangled gasps, as though he were choking.
“The ledgers… I have them…”
“Ah, those ledgers.”
I smiled gently.
“It seems you’ve misunderstood the purpose of patronage, Hans Noark. Your patrons wish to publicize their own charitable deeds, so they readily disclose exactly when and how much they contributed.”
I tapped the documents meaningfully.
“And discovering the Orphanage’s expenditures was remarkably simple. There were only a handful of vendors to begin with.”
Why would I need ledgers?
Investigation reveals everything.

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