Perhaps she sensed the menace in his voice. Yu Na-gyeong, perched on Limon’s head, went rigid and kept quiet. She knew that if she got cheeky with Limon when he was in a mood this foul, she would get more than a few flicks to the forehead.

“I don’t think the Wang family head meant to slight you, Sword Lord. The Torture Hall is under my authority, so he probably thought it had nothing to do with you.”

Perhaps she did not know Limon well enough. Or perhaps her nerve was made of different stuff. Either way, Li Qingyu answered calmly even as he made his displeasure plain. Limon spoke to her coldly.

“If he wasn’t slighting me, he was slighting you.”

“That’s...”

“And as long as you’re my fiancée, looking down on you is the same as looking down on me.”

“Oh. Yes.”

Perhaps the remark had caught her off guard. She forgot whatever she had been about to say and blushed faintly. Yu Na-gyeong stared at her with her beak hanging open.

Limon, however, paid no attention to Qingyu’s reaction. He merely frowned and asked bluntly,

“So? Have you decided to take that bastard into the Torture Hall?”

“I was just about to ask you about that.”

“Ask who?”

“You, of course, Sword Lord.”

“... You want me to tell you whether your Torture Hall should take that bastard and torture him like that Wang fellow requested?”

“Yes.”

Qingyu smiled and nodded as though she were asking what he wanted for lunch. Limon gave her a dubious look, forgetting how angry he had been a moment ago.

“Why ask me? I’m not in charge of that ghastly place.”

“But you are responsible for Leviathan’s security. And you were the one who warned us how dangerous the killer is.”

“Well, yes, but...”

As Limon trailed off with a strange look on his face, Qingyu tilted her head. “Is something bothering you?”

“It’s not that I don’t like it. It just feels odd. I used to run around trying to save people from being tortured by your lot, and now I’m the one deciding whether it happens.” Limon scratched his cheek.

Qingyu took it in stride. “We don’t torture innocent people indiscriminately like we used to.”

“Innocent or not, don’t you think there’s a problem with taking commissions to torture people in the first place?”

“It’s fine. Our Torture Hall is in a place beyond the reach of the law.”

“I’m talking about what’s right, not what’s legal.”

“What’s right is something you invoke when you need it.”

“... Oh. Is that so?”

Limon clicked his tongue. Schemes and conspiracies were practically a racial trait of the Black Dragon Clan. He realized anew how ridiculous it was to debate right and wrong with its princess.

“So what do you think I should do?”

Whether she understood his feelings or not, Qingyu asked with her usual bright smile. Limon answered at once.

“Refuse.”

“Is it because you resent the Wang family head for taking the killer by force, only to ask us to do the torturing?”

“That gets on my nerves too, but there’s no need to deliberately take that dangerous bomb back off his hands.”

Qingyu and Na-gyeong both gave him curious looks. Noticing the changes in their expressions with a Sword Master’s keen senses, Limon narrowed his eyes.

“What are those suspicious looks for?”

“Oh, we’re not suspicious.”

[“It’s just been a long time since I’ve seen you consider anyone that dangerous, Team Leader.”]

Na-gyeong tilted her head. Even when he worked for PAB, Limon had treated any high-level player as a pushover. He had even crushed the Infinite Monarch. Yet here he was, this wary of Ryu Gang-cheol—a mere count-class player, even if he was a senior officer of the Liberation Brigade. Ryu had already lost his arms and was practically half-crippled. It seemed very strange indeed.

Limon gave Na-gyeong a faint chuckle. “Na-gyeong, you know the type of bastard I mean?”

[“What type?”]

“The kind who says he wants a debate, then spends the whole conversation insisting he’s the only one who’s right.”

[“Of course. There are more of them than you’d think.”]

“Right? Now what about one who starts throwing punches the moment someone disagrees?”

[“Hmm. He wouldn’t be easy to get along with.”]

“And suppose he can’t even fight and loses, but then congratulates himself for winning the argument because his logic was so flawless that his opponent had to resort to violence. What would you think?”

[“... At that point, I wouldn’t want anything to do with him.”]

“Exactly. That’s how I feel.”

[“Oh?”]

Na-gyeong looked as though she almost understood. Qingyu offered a simple summary of Limon’s explanation for her. “In other words, a fool is more exhausting to deal with than a genius?”

“You never know what a fool will do. Even less so if he’s a mad fool.”

A Monarch called an absolute being, an archduke said to be as good as a king, a duke with a rare skill—none of them was a match for him. They were all human, and they would all die if stabbed. Watching Limon explain that, naturally, he was more wary of a madman than a Monarch, Na-gyeong’s beak fell open.

[“Wow. That’s incredibly arrogant and obnoxious, but I can’t argue with it because it’s true.”]

“I am pretty impressive.”

[“Blegh!”]

Limon flicked Na-gyeong on the forehead as she retched, then turned back to Qingyu. “Anyway, you should flatly refuse anything to do with that bastard. Especially if they want to use the Torture Hall.”

The Torture Hall was a Leviathan facility. To torture Ryu Gang-cheol, they would have to bring him to Leviathan. Limon considered Ryu a lump of shit—or perhaps a shit bomb—that would cause trouble if anyone so much as touched him. He could never allow it.

“Refusing does seem best.”

“Why? Do you think otherwise?”

“No. Your wishes are my wishes, Sword Lord.”

His decision came first; her own opinion did not matter. Having answered calmly, Qingyu took out a document with a slightly troubled look. “It’s just that the situation has become a little awkward for an outright refusal.”

Limon frowned at the official letter she held out—or, more precisely, at the familiar seal stamped on it. “The council of elders?”

“Yes. And it’s a formal request.”

“So now you’d have a hard time refusing even if you wanted to.”

“The elders can authorize use of the Torture Hall for official business. I could oppose it if I insisted, but...”

Qingyu let out a soft sigh. At the sight—one that would set many a man’s heart racing—Limon clicked his tongue. “That would give the elders a perfect excuse to push back, after you’d gone to all the trouble of finding their weaknesses and keeping them in line?”

“If I oppose use of the Torture Hall, the elders will say I can no longer exercise good judgment because of you.”

They had refrained from objecting only because she had leverage over them. Inwardly, the elders had never welcomed Limon’s marriage to Qingyu—or, more precisely, the loss of the clan’s wealth and power that would come with it. If she disregarded this request, they would pounce like wolves on a piece of meat, accusing her of letting personal feelings interfere with official business because Wang Gi-neung had gone behind Limon’s back.

“Tch. I should’ve killed all those elders back when I had the chance.”

“That would have left the Black Dragon Clan in even worse straits. They did a great deal to sustain the clan in the past.”

“The fact you have to say ‘in the past’ means they’ve become an entrenched interest and aren’t much help now.”

“But if we disposed of them openly, the other clan members might think their loyalty would only get them cast aside once they were no longer useful. Their morale and loyalty would suffer.”

“Hmm. I suppose so.”

Na-gyeong wore an odd expression. Something about the conversation had been bothering her. [“Um, Princess? Why did you specify ‘openly’ when you explained why you shouldn’t dispose of your elders?”]

“Would you like to know why?”

[“... No. On second thought, I’d rather not.”]

Na-gyeong averted her eyes from Qingyu’s gentle smile. She was not so oblivious that she had missed how, despite giving all sorts of reasons, Qingyu had never once asked Limon to leave the elders alone.

As Na-gyeong swallowed hard at this fresh reminder of the Seven Dragons Society’s ruthlessness, Limon stroked his chin. “What are we going to do with this bomb...?”

“Good question.”

Handing Ryu Gang-cheol over to the Torture Hall felt wrong, but ignoring the elders’ letter would cause trouble later. Watching the two of them ponder what amounted to a no-win situation, Na-gyeong murmured, [“That’s a tough one. If it were a real bomb, you could just call in a high-level player with the right skill to deal with it.”]

“Hmm?”

“Ah.”

Limon and Qingyu both took on curious expressions. Na-gyeong looked between them uneasily. [“Did I say something strange?”]

“No, well done. You’ve given me an idea.”

“You have. We were making it needlessly complicated.”

[“...???”]

Na-gyeong could only stare, baffled by their cryptic exchange. Limon grinned and turned a meaningful gaze on Qingyu. “Princess. That spy you bought off in the Wang family of Shanghai—are they fairly high up?”

“High enough to know even their secrets.”

“Hmm. Then that should do.”

“The Wang family head is a cautious man, so I can’t guarantee it. But if we also keep watch from outside, we shouldn’t fall for a counterintelligence ploy.”

“Is that so? Then let me know when you get the information.”

Qingyu looked surprised. “Are you going to handle it yourself?”

“Might as well make sure it’s done right.”

Qingyu nodded once at his sinister smile, then asked as though something had just occurred to her, “While we’re at it, why don’t we prepare a second plan?”

“The fallback Na-gyeong mentioned?”

“Yes. There’s no guarantee the bombs left behind won’t cause trouble afterward.”

“Fine by me, but are you sure? If people find out you brought in an outsider, plenty of them will make a fuss about it later.”

“Do I need to worry about that sort of talk when I’m engaged to the Sword Lord?”

“Guess not.”

Limon let out a quiet laugh. The smile on her lips alone told him she had already prepared for any objections before making the suggestion.

“All right, I’ll take care of that too. I know one fellow who counts his chickens before they hatch. He’s a bit lacking in ability, but I can at least trust him to guard the house.”

“Yes. Spend as much as you like. Don’t worry about the money.”

They discussed it in such warm, cheerful tones that they might have been a couple planning a date. Na-gyeong grumbled at them with a sulky look. [“You two lovebirds. It’s nice that you get along, but could you put it in terms this bird with a tiny brain can understand?”]

“Hehe. Calling us lovebirds when we’re not even married yet? You give us too much credit.”

[“...”]

“No need to overthink it.”

Na-gyeong froze as Qingyu beamed and gave her a thumbs-up. Limon spoke to her casually. “You said it yourself. If it were a real bomb, we could call in a high-level player with the right skill to deal with it.”

[“So what?”]

“How do people usually deal with a bomb when there’s no high-level player around?”

[“Well, they’d...?”]

Na-gyeong’s beak fell open as realization struck. Limon gave her a cold smile and continued in a low voice. “A man who’s spent his life carving people up like toys must have been prepared to be treated as less than human himself.”