Home/The Seven-Year-Old Village Chief of Exile/ch 34

Chapter 34

While I was away, Ian had apparently been entertaining the guests well—Molle Livus's face had aged dramatically in just one day.

Head Priest Saikeuf seemed half out of his mind. He was chewing his nails nervously, a rather unsightly sight.

"Just to be sure..."

Verity asked Ian.

"Did you torture them?"

"I didn't. Why would I bother to dirty my hands?"

Ian shook his head with a stern expression. The rare firmness in his voice showed just how much he despised Molle Livus.

'Well, I'd hate him too if I were in his shoes.'

I glanced at Molle Livus.

A pathetic man consumed by inferiority. A lowlife who sent an innocent person to exile just because his feelings were hurt.

'And yet he still has his pride.'

Molle Livus's inferiority toward Ian had only grown stronger—his eyes glaring at us were filled with venomous hatred.

'It doesn't look like he'll open his mouth easily.'

What should I do?

I gently swung my legs, which didn't reach the ground.

"I don't want to use torture..."

I meant to mutter it to myself, but it came out loud.

Ian frowned, and Verity looked indifferent, as if he'd expected it.

"So you were considering it."

"We're not in a position to be picky about methods."

"A seven-year-old shouldn't be thinking about such things."

Ian couldn't help but nag. I just grinned.

'I know.'

But the twenty-five-year-old 'Chae Habin' knew all too well how absurd and despicable reality could be.

'People like us, backed into a corner, can't afford to be dignified when fighting enemies. We have to do whatever it takes. Otherwise...'

We lose.

I knew from experience.

'But the villagers, including Ian oppa, wouldn't want that.'

Even though they'd experienced injustice, they'd chosen to endure. As village chief, I couldn't ignore their disposition.

And they'd hate it if I did something unjust.

'More precisely, they'd be sad.'

So what could I do?

"Let's end this nicely."

I sincerely pleaded with the guests.

"The talk of torture was just a bluff. A seven-year-old couldn't possibly do such a thing. And I hate torture."

I'd learned in school how horrible and cruel torture is.

"Please cooperate with me. I'm already holding back and making concessions. I'm desperately trying to practice my ingrained morality and humanity. Won't you make sure I don't get any angrier?"

"......"

"......"

I asked politely, but the guests' response was lukewarm.

'Hmph, they won't even listen to a seven-year-old's polite request.'

I let out a sigh, as if I'd expected this.

'If words alone could solve things, we wouldn't be in this situation...'

I lifted my head to bring up the next topic.

'Hm?'

Ian and Verity were looking at me with strange expressions.

"What?"

"Hebenia, you..."

"So what?"

"...Never mind."

Ian patted my head. I frowned but didn't pull away.

Rather, I stretched my neck slightly to get more pats. It was oddly pleasant.

"My Lady, what should we do then?"

Verity said cheerfully in an exaggerated tone, as if trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

'...Come to think of it, the air is heavy.'

Is it because it's a basement with poor ventilation?

'I should get an air purifier.'

As I thought that, I told them what I had in mind.

"Like I said, I won't use torture."

For the record, I always got top grades on Korean history exams. I loved history, and through it, I'd learned about the tragedies of those who suffered under torture.

'Inhumane methods are a way of giving up your own humanity. And evil deeds always come back to haunt you.'

So the method I came up with was 'searching.'

'I'll use the wisdom of my ancestors. Even if I'm not really Korean.'

In the past, they had a search engine rivaling Google.

"These are it!"

With a ta-da, I introduced the search engines I'd devised.

"First is 'Jiggle'!"

Just holding a red-hot arrow in hand would let you hear the answers you wanted.

Though the accuracy was a bit lacking.

"Second is 'Whipity'!"

With the cheerful swish-swish sound as background music, you could focus on gathering information. There was no time to get bored.

The downside was that your arm would hurt.

"And last, third, is 'Juri'..."

"You're clearly planning to torture them!"

Ian was startled and cut me off.

I had been about to introduce the final search engine, 'Jurinai,' and my smile faded.

That was the one I wanted to try most.

"Wow, that's cruelty that would make even a demon blush..."

Verity shook his head in disgust.

"I'm not actually going to do it. Just holding it alone has an effect because..."

"Be honest. It's that book, isn't it? That thick book you got from Bleached Demon is the problem! You've become too rough since reading it!"

"Oh, Sir Ian. Our Lady's like this because it's a Clavis trait..."

Verity quickly cut off Ian's nagging and addressed the guests behind the bars.

"You heard him, right? See how much our Lady is holding back for you? She's only seven and already has this temper."

"Look at this demon talking."

"So take a few days to think it over. Ah, and don't worry—you won't be able to commit suicide, thanks to a spell."

And so the welcoming ceremony ended.

"Hmph, I wanted to look cool as village chief..."

Back in the office, I swallowed my disappointment.

"Ian oppa, and I only said that. I really wasn't planning to torture them. It was just a bluff..."

"I know."

Ian, looking out the window with a clear view of the village, said.

"I know. You didn't mean it."

"Good. You're not mad, are you?"

"I'm not. You acting cheeky isn't anything new."

---

"You're not mad, are you?"

"I'm not."

You acting cheeky isn't anything new.

Ian said that and turned around.

Hebenia, who had been subtly gauging his mood, looked relieved at his wry smile.

Then she grinned and took his hand.

Ian squeezed her hand back, as if it were natural.

'There's a lot I want to say, but...'

Now's not the time, Ian thought, and squeezed her hand tighter.

"Hehe, that hurts!"

"You won't act up if I hold you like this."

"People would think I'm a seven-year-old tomboy."

"You are a seven-year-old tomboy."

"Anyway, that's the end of today's welcoming ceremony."

Verity said as he closed the door to the dungeon.

Hebenia nodded.

"It'll be hard to get information out of them right now. So let's just leave them alone. Neglect might work well too."

"What about asking Aunt Elva to make a truth serum?"

"Are there any side effects?"

"We'll have to ask. But with things as they are, we can't be picky."

Ian suggested with a wicked smile that any side effects could be considered their punishment.

"Ooh, oppa, that's kind of villainous and cool."

"Then let's ask Elva-nim..."

"I'll go ask her. I also need to talk to Libby unnie, and I should see Uncle Modi too."

Listing her tasks, Hebenia hopped on her pink scooter parked in front of the village hall and quickly disappeared.

"Obey the speed limit!"

Verity waved and called out.

The smile on the demon butler's face, watching her fondly, slowly faded.

Ian, standing beside him, felt the same.

"Earlier, Hebenia..."

"Her presence was no joke, wasn't it?"

"......"

"She seemed completely unaware of it, though."

"......"

Ian's stiff lips didn't easily relax.

He recalled Hebenia from just moments ago and broke into a cold sweat.

"Make sure I don't get any angrier."

What was it about those words?

Hebenia had said them just as she always did.

With that innocent face, casually and cunningly coaxing.

But Ian nearly apologized on the spot.

He wanted to bend his stiff legs, bow his head, and beg her to hide her anger.

'Molle Livus and the priest didn't refuse Hebenia's proposal. They just froze in fear.'

Suddenly, Ian felt a sense of déjà vu.

'When did I experience this before?'

Just as something was about to surface from his memory.

"Make sure I don't get any angrier."

Ian flinched and turned.

Verity, who had been softly murmuring Hebenia's words, smiled warmly.

"Do you know whose habit that is?"

"I don't. But I feel like I've heard it before..."

"It's a Clavis family habit."

Ian's eyes widened.

'Right...'

During his time as an imperial knight.

One day, when he was at the palace with the Clavis family head.

While everyone else was kneeling and bowing their heads, only he and the Clavis family head had stood and spoken face to face.

'I still don't remember the conversation, but I definitely heard something similar!'

A warning not to anger him.

'No, it was slightly different.'

As Ian tried hard to recall the memory, Verity's next words were like a clue.

"More precisely, it's the family's habit. Don't anger us. Don't make us move. Such arrogant Clavis-like words, aren't they?"

"......"

Other memories were blurred like muddy water, but one phrase surged up like a salmon swimming against the current.

"What is it, Sir Ian?"

"Back then..."

Ian muttered as if in a dream.

"He said he was angry."

"Who?"

"The Clavis family head..."

"......"

"To me..."

He said he was angry.

"More than wasting my precious steps in this shabby place, it angers me more to see you in a place like this."

Back   Next