After being scolded, Lola sat quietly. Caesar's gaze returned to her frail body, focusing on her delicate shoulders, slender collarbones, and the bruised wounds left by shackles. She looked like she could burst into tears at the slightest touch. Francis approached Caesar and spoke in his characteristic lazy tone, "Tell me... General, can you investigate this case without any personal bias? The Prime Minister might not know, but you should know who left those marks on Lora's neck, right?" Caesar narrowed his eyes slightly, "Do you want to know?" His voice was low and sounded like a territorial beast. Francis didn't pursue the topic further. After all, he wasn't an Alpha but a Beta who failed to differentiate. Francis straightened up and casually said, "Perhaps it's unnecessary. I respect personal privacy." "...However, since the Prime Minister entrusted me with this task, I think I should give it my all, right?" Francis caressed the eagle's head on his cane, "General, you can consi
Upon the exchange for handcuffs, the tension within Lola's demeanor dissipated considerably. The abrasions on her wrists were painful. Although Lola prided herself on her high pain tolerance from childhood scuffles, she struggled to endure the constant friction between the heavy shackles and her skin for extended periods. Compared to the pain, the unhealed wounds tormented by the shackles resembled cruel torture. Liberated from her restraints, Lola could now pace freely in her solitary cell, sleep on the narrow, damp bunk, and even approach the bars to chat with the correctional officers, play cards, and coax them into sharing their pine nuts. The only inconvenience was the effort required to maneuver her underpants when using the bathroom. She had first to lift her skirt, hold it in place with her teeth, and then pull the left side up after cleaning herself, followed by the right, repeating the process several times before the underpants were properly in place. Once completed, she
The room was silent, with the tranquility that hadn't been experienced since the prison was built and put to use. Caesar stood still, composed like a statue made of jade. Francis' cane clattered to the floor. Eugenie's grip on Lola's hand loosened. Under the influence of the drug, Lola's brain was severely numbed, leaving her expression blank. Her blinking slowed, her lips relaxed, and her breathing became steady like a delicate doll's. But the words that came from her mouth were far from delicate: "...General Caesar also wants me to kiss him, but a simple kiss won't do. He wants me to do it like I'm eating a roast piglet, and he even wants me to lift my skirt—" Before she could say any more, Caesar strode over, his face grave, and forcefully covered Lola's mouth. "Shut up." Francis seemed intrigued. "General Caesar, this seems to be the most important part." Eugenie subconsciously rebutted, "...This is false." Caesar's face was expressionless as he looked down at Lola, her mout
For Lola, scaling the wall was as effortless as savoring succulent skewered kebabs, provided no external interference marred her. As Lola had just maneuvered half of her body over the wall, her ankle was seized by a man. Compared to her, the individual behind her could only be described as colossal in height and stature, including the hand now effortlessly clutching her ankle. Lola Inappropriately thought perhaps his palm was larger than her foot. The cold penetrated through his black leather gloves, chilling her as she wore the standard-issue gray and white pajama pants. Due to her movement, the pants rolled up to her calves, revealing a slender ankle he now grasped firmly. Lola suspected that he could easily snap her bones with just a bit of force. She shuddered, recalling Caesar's whip from the other day. Caesar: "Come down." Lola tried to kick him: "I won't come down." Caesar remained silent, tugging her downward. Lola wanted to scream but dared not; she could only thrash ab
At long last, Lola savored the much-anticipated roast suckling pig; however, to her chagrin, she could not indulge in an entire one. Presently, six individuals of the Asti clan remained under "house arrest" within the official residence, the youngest being three years younger than Lola named Ollie. As a child, a fever had left Ollie's mind somewhat addled, giving her an air of befuddlement. Lola took an entire roast suckling pig leg and a portion of carved meat, accompanied by lettuce cups, which she generously shared with Ollie. Oblivious, Ollie inquired, "Where is Miss Angela?" Perhaps influenced by the rumors, the dining hall's restrictions were less stringent that day, and the murmurs were louder. With one hand cradling a plate piled high with food and the other protecting Ollie, Lola ensured the crowd did not jostle her. The two of them were recognized as a pair with intellectual impairments after testing and observation, and as such, no one typically sought to trouble them. A
Eight years past, in pursuit of territorial conquest for the empire, Caesar was struck in his right arm amidst a fierce firefight, from which three bullets were extracted. Four years ago, in a bid to safeguard the Prime Minister, Caesar was inadvertently injured, a sizable shard deeply embedded in his right leg. Yet these wounds paled compared to the torment inflicted by the noisy little sparrow, who clutched a lightning rod and bellowed through a megaphone. "Caesar, my darling—" "Father of my child—" "My heart and soul, my sweet treasure, my honeybee—" ... Never before had Caesar endured such intense, crushing agony. He would rather face the battlefield alongside imperial generals or engage in deadly combat with the most ruthless drug lords than continue to bear this soul-crushing torture. Especially when, upon seeing him, the small girl on the lightning rod became even more excited, waving her handkerchief at Caesar like a devotee of a 500-episode primetime soap opera: "Caesa
Lola didn't really consider her life to be free now. Although she had left the government residence, her life in the Bush household had not improved. It had become even more strict.Due to the Bush family's hereditary bad smell, the family's offspring were scarce. The current heir, Bush, was a spoiled and arrogant young man. Even after being slapped by Caesar and warned, he had not changed his ways and continued to torment Lola sadistically.The wooden room Lola was assigned to in the Bush residence was located in the basement, along with other Asti people working for the family. Among the nobles, the working conditions for the Asti people remained poor. They mostly worked in planting, sewage cleaning, and garbage collection. Their daily lives did not intersect with those of the arrogant nobles, who enjoyed the Asti people's care but thought they would dirty their view.On her first day at the residence, the other Asti people in the basement helped her settle in and make room for her
The night wind was cold enough to make one's hands and feet numb, and even as Caesar tried to push Lola away, her limbs clung to him like an octopus' suckers. Seeing the fabric strain under her grip, Caesar chose to give up, not wanting to tear the girl's clothes. Lola curled up in his embrace, sobbing softly for a long time. Her cries weren't loud, and Caesar could only let her hang onto him like a koala, warning her, "Don't touch anything, and let go." Lola took a deep breath, her arms around his neck and her legs pressed against his abdomen, still shedding tears. Caesar noticed she was as agile as a monkey, but the little monkey was cold, trembling in her thin clothes, her arms scraped, and more cluttered than ever. "…Mr. Caesar," she whispered, "please take me with you. I beg you, or I'll die here." Caesar didn't respond. Lola pressed her face against his shoulder, rubbing it as if wiping her tears and snot on him, utterly oblivious to her appearance. "I can clean and cook,