Justin Knecht suddenly lifted his head, his expression grave as he looked out the window.
The pupils of his eyes swirled with a strange pale red luminescence, reflecting a pattern similar to a reticle.
"What’s wrong, Justin?"
Viscount Barber raised his head, uttering a deep and hoarse voice, "Has the outcome been decided?"
After a moment, Justin came back to his senses and nodded at the old viscount.
He said solemnly, "Gerald is dead. And those two are hardly injured."
Viscount Barber indifferently nodded, lightly grunting, "Then keep watching."
He then lowered his head, seemingly unconcerned as he continued to chew his food slowly.
He was hunched over, his lean body showcasing a spine that protruded like thorns, his arms and thighs were so gaunt they resembled skeletons, skin sagging loosely on his bones. Within the deep recesses of his eye sockets, his eyes were cloudy and devoid of emotion.
He tore off a piece of squab meat and chewed it slowly in his mouth.
Though he was quite old, Viscount Barber always refused to eat bland food. He would rather fit himself with seven or eight dentures than give up on eating meat.
In front of him, there was a plate holding a roasted squab, goose liver with apple sauce, lobsters cooked in butter, tomatoes, and basil, as well as a dish of baked shellfish.
For Viscount Barber’s age, this was undoubtedly a highly risky diet. Even if he were twenty years younger, this meal could potentially endanger his life.
But he had maintained such eating habits for over thirty years.
In the past, when young priests newly arrived at Roth Fort would dine with him and witness his eating habits, they would try to stop him. However, Viscount Barber completely disregarded these so-called healthy dietary recommendations and never listened to a word.
That year he was just over fifty years old.
And now, he was about to turn ninety.
—Those priests who had once advised him to maintain a healthy diet ultimately did not outlast him.
By now, Justin had grown quite accustomed to the old man’s quirky character.
If someone directly contradicted his opinion with a somewhat logical argument, Viscount Barber usually wouldn’t get angry.
But should someone start rattling on, unsolicited... he would become very annoyed.
Unless asked, he could not be bothered to speak.
He dined at the same table as the viscount, but kept a significant distance from him.
This wasn’t because he needed to keep his distance from the viscount or for reasons of maintaining status or etiquette.
It was simply because "there wasn’t enough room."
Yes, there wasn’t enough room.
Unlike the delicate food in front of the Viscount, the food in front of Justin looked very rough. It was as if they could have just placed the pot directly in front of him.
But correspondingly, the quantity of food in front of Justin was so exaggerated that it was abnormal—several platters, each half a meter in diameter, brimming with varieties of sausages, boiled meats, and roasted meats heaped up like little hills, all covered in a thick layer of sauce. An ordinary person could eat for three days and nights and still not finish half of it.
Not a single vegetable, not a single grain of rice.
Only honey syrup, treated like a beverage.
Overall, it was undoubtedly to a degree that was frighteningly cloying.
But for Justin, this was a necessary "ritual."
Whenever he thought he might be facing a battle, he would request from the Viscount a meaty dinner banquet so extravagant it was bizarre.
This had to do with the content of his Curse Binding:
He bore a Curse Binding called "Overloaded Hunger."
"Overloaded Hunger: Regardless of how much food is stored in the stomach, if injured once, one will fall into an extremely hungry state after one hour; at the same time, if one has not consumed raw vegetables in the past three days, a temporary rite called Overloaded Hunger can be obtained."
"Overloaded Hunger: Up to seven days’ worth of food can be "overloaded" in advance, and no matter how much food is consumed, it will not affect one’s agility. For every day’s worth of energy "overloaded," an extra fold of physical recovery speed is obtained."
This was a fairly powerful Curse Binding.
If overloaded to the maximum, Justin could receive a continuous stream of stamina recovery within the first hour of entering combat. No matter how intense the swinging of weapons, he would not feel fatigued.
That’s why he fought using hammers and axes. After overloading, he could even sprint at full speed for an hour, or swing his weapons tirelessly for an hour straight.
...But this was also a rather expensive ability.
It meant that Justin could not eat lettuce even once.
Otherwise, he would have to wait three days every time he wanted to use his Curse Binding. And if Justin truly wanted to go all out, he would have to consecutively eat enough food to last him more than one hundred sixty hours of digestion.
Among those harder-to-digest foods, meat was the easiest to gulp down and also less likely to contain lettuce.
But Justin had not told Viscount Barber that he could actually consume other foods... Until now, the Viscount had only believed that his Curse Binding required the consumption of meat to be triggered.
After all, Justin had not sold his life to the Viscount.
They had only a long-term employment relationship, so naturally, he would not disclose the specific contents of his Curse Binding to the Viscount. Knowing another’s Curse Binding usually equated to holding that person’s life in one’s hands.
The dinner that Justin had requested from the Viscount was filled with numerous demands, and there were also many peculiar details. The goal was to distract the Viscount’s attention and misguide his thought process.
For a seasoned Hunter, hiding the true content of one’s Curse Binding amid many odd everyday actions was an effective way to increase the chances of survival.
After all, their profession was relatively more likely to attract hatred...
He had been eating for quite a while when he suddenly paused.
He sensed it—the two Bronze Transcendents had separated.
This information had to be reported to the Viscount immediately.
Thus, Justin spoke up at once, "They have separated. One continues to stay at the lord’s mansion, while the other is heading this way."
Alvin Barber narrowed his eyes and muttered softly, "It seems that you won’t be needed tonight."
"You seem very confident."
"Yes, because I offered him a deal he couldn’t refuse."
Viscount Barber said with a chuckle, "In fact, I left two people there.
"If Gerald wins, he’ll be greeted by Tax Officer Notre Dame... He can directly tell Gerald the price I’m willing to offer. I can’t say that, but Notre Dame, being a commoner, doesn’t know Gerald’s identity, so he can very well speak freely.
"And if Tan Juan ultimately triumphs, it will be Deputy Chief of Police Ferdinand who goes to greet him, to imply that Roth Fort’s security forces are entirely under my control. That is to admit by implication that those attacks were indeed my doing... but he cannot get any hard evidence against me because the entire police department is on my side."
Viscount Barber stated calmly, "Tan Juan Geraint is quite a weak man, just like his father—somewhat clever, but lacking in experience—he thinks that by coming to Roth Fort, he will be able to grab hold of incriminating evidence against me for illicitly buying and hiding illegal firearms."
"But he doesn’t realize that evidence, such a thing, becomes effective only when one is in a position of advantage. So I have to let Ferdinand suggest to him... to tell him that I am under Gerald’s mental control."
"But will he really believe that?"
Justin asked subconsciously.
"He has no choice but to believe."
Viscount Barber laughed heartily, "Because Gerald is already dead... Dead men tell no tales, but I do. They won’t find the evidence.
"He came to Roth Fort just to search for evidence, but I’ve used up all the illegal firearms by blowing up my own home... that was also a show for him. To tell him that it’s now impossible to find evidence of my wrongdoing.
"On the contrary, even the evidence of several previous incidents has been destroyed. And it wasn’t me who did it, it was Tan Juan himself—so he can only swallow it, bite back his anger. Coming to Roth Fort, to negotiate peace with me."
The old Viscount said slowly, "I had Ferdinand suggest to him that all past grievances could be put aside and forgotten. Since I’m willing to lower my stance, he is left with only three options:
"Either he brings Salvatore and kills both you and me, then pushes all the blame onto Gerald; or he gracefully accepts the loss and leaves, to find another opportunity.
"Or, he comes alone... which means he voluntarily disarms, gives up on resistance, and negotiates with me. After all, he can guess that we, having maintained a balance of power with Gerald, are at least not inferior to him. Without Salvatore’s protection, Tan Juan alone is surely weaker than us, so he would not possibly engage in conflict with us—that is to say, he has already conceded."
"And naturally, I will not make it too embarrassing for him. After all, we’ve had no deep hatred or grudge."
The old Viscount’s expression unchanged, "I just casually caused him a bit of trouble, to keep him on his toes. Don’t cause any blind commotion in the coming months.
"—As in a few months, there will be no more Geraint family."