The Main Character is the Villain

EP 17 - House of 20 Bodies(7)

After wiping Sieri's face, I reluctantly let her go. There were many things I wanted to try, but it was only the first night. Just as wine becomes better with age, savoring a person slowly was fun in its own way.

And so, the night passed. I spent some time thinking about what kind of fun things I could do with Sieri in the future.

From the morning, Aira was cleaning the mansion’s corridors. Since the March of Atonement, Aira was so scared that she trembles at the thought of stepping outside the mansion grounds. So, I assigned her to clean the first floor of the mansion. Aira cleaned as if it was her life's work, and at night, she served me as if being a prostitute was her calling.

The other servants in the manor didn't seem to mind that someone else was doing their work for them. Since Aira had originally come in as a 'maid,' they find it natural to see her cleaning. Cleaning was a very suitable job as punishment.

Seeing Aira adapt to life in the mansion so well was giving me a sense of satisfaction as a religious person. Wasn’t it remarkable how this former swindler had transformed into such an honest and respectable person? Today, Aira was planning to ‘serve’ me under the desk in the office after cleaning.

“My Lord.”

While I was standing in the corridor, admiring her from behind as she cleaned, Robin addressed me. I quickly adjusted my expression and turned to face him.

“I have a report to make.”

“Go ahead.”

“A murder occurred in the village last night, and a trial for the accused is necessary.”

The lord oversaw all matters within the estate. Although minor issues were handled by the knights or guards through enforcement of laws, more serious matters like murder or banditry required the lord’s direct involvement. Since Peta Territory was small, trials were rare, but the lord needed to be vigilant about each case. If one appeared lenient, people would exploit it.

I tried not to show any reluctance in front of Robin. If it was 'Lucius,' he would be distressed.

“That’s unfortunate. Murder? Who could commit such a horrible crime?”

“Do you remember the March of Atonement? There was a man who interfered with Miss Aira’s penance and assaulted her.”

“Yes, I remember.”

That’s what he was told to do. Of course I knew. Hearing he’d committed murder, I wasn't the least bit surprised. He nearly killed Aira several times when he beat her. And if I hadn’t been a healer, she might have died for sure. While it ultimately served my plans, he was hardly someone fit for my territory.

“They say he beat his wife and ended up killing her.”

“That’s unfortunate. Did he beat her often?”

“Yes. He was a rather unsavory type… It’s said he frequently clashed with others in the neighborhood as well.”

In this world, guards didn’t have the authority to intervene in personal family matters. After all, this was a game with that setting. For example, if I married Sieri, and engaged in anything from anal play to SM, the guards would have no authority to stop me. They can only watch.

Another example. Even if I beat Sieri to near death, as long as she didn’t die, the guards wouldn’t have the authority to arrest me. It wasn’t a case of negligence in letting a wife be beaten to death. According to law, the guards could only give a 'personal warning.'

“So, is everything prepared?”

Even in a rural estate like this, a trial required structure. The “criminal,” the “lord” who would pronounce the sentence, and the witnesses who would testify. Robin reported.

“There are already five people gathered to testify against the criminal.”

Considering his history of causing trouble, they likely saw this as an opportunity to be rid of him for good. I couldn’t say I didn’t understand.

“Alright, let’s go.”

I set out with Robin. The scene was already bustling. Villagers were raising their voices, arguing over who would testify first before their lord. The guards, responsible for maintaining order, were trying to calm them down but no one seemed to listen.

The commotion finally died down when I arrived. I looked around. In the corner, the murderer who had killed his wife was tied up with a rope, sobbing.

A group of people with [Witness] placards gathered in an open space, while many others crowded together to watch the trial. The guards greeted me promptly upon arrival and straightened into sharp stances. After praising their efforts, I decided to start the trial in earnest.

“Guard, explain the case.”

“Yes, My Lord! Last night, John, a village resident, rushed to the village patrol guards and reported, ‘There’s screaming coming from Henry’s house. It sounds like someone died. Please come with me.’ So, two guards armed themselves and went to Henry’s house. When they arrived, they found Henry’s wife struck dead by a club, and Henry himself was asleep, drunk, holding the club in his hand.”

“Are you certain that she died at the scene?”

“That... Once you see the body, My Lord will be certain of her death.”

The body he spoke of was lying in one corner of the trial grounds as evidence, covered by a mat to conceal her face. The guard lifted the mat slightly and asked.

“Would you like to see it?”

“What did you do after finding the body?”

“We took both the witness, John, and the criminal, Henry, back to the guard post. We then assembled an additional team to clean up the scene and retrieve the body.”

“Was there no further investigation? There might be evidence of the crime left at the scene.”

“That… we were certain of Henry’s guilt, so… uh…”

“From what I’ve heard about the case, it seems the only things the guards are certain of are that a ‘scream was heard’ from Henry’s house and that ‘Henry was found holding the club.’ Even John’s testimony doesn’t provide any further details. Is there any additional evidence that makes you certain Henry is the culprit beyond what I’ve been told?”

“Well…”

The guard trailed off. It felt like the case had been handled rather hastily. In a situation like this, the time of the wife’s death was not of primary concern. I put off checking the body for now and turned to Henry.

Henry looked startled when he saw me, then quickly bowed his head. I asked him.

“Henry, did you kill your wife?”

“… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t know if I killed her or what happened. I remember trying to get home after drinking, but I don’t remember anything after that.”

This was a classic case of someone being framed. There was certainly the possibility that Henry, in a blackout state, could have beaten his wife to death. However, it was also possible that someone might have set Henry up. The fact that five people from the same village were eager to testify about a murder that took place in the dead of night indicated that he had no shortage of enemies.

It was just as plausible for a man like him to kill his wife as it was for someone to frame him to be rid of him.

“I heard that you usually beat your wife.”

“… Yes.”

“How did you usually hit her? With a bottle? Some kind of tool?”

“That…”

Henry pressed his lips together, his eyes darting around. He didn't seem to have the courage to confess his sins in front of so many people. I urged him.

“Speak, Henry. Your lord is asking.”

“I usually… kicked her… and punched…”

“Why did you do that? Were you trying to kill your wife?”

“It… I just got so angry… I’d lost my job, and nothing… nothing was going right…”

The crowd began to murmur. I could hear insults hurling at Henry, calling him worthless and irredeemable. I spoke up.

“If I hear another disturbance in this court, I will identify the speaker and deal with them accordingly.”

Only then did the courtroom quiet down. I turned back to Henry.

“You lost your job, then. What did you used to do?”

“I was a carpenter, but I got injured at work, so I couldn’t continue.”

“What kind of injury?”

“I hurt my arm, so I can’t put any strength in my right arm. I can’t hammer anymore…”

“You’re right-handed?”

“Yes. I still use my right hand mostly, but I can’t lift heavy things or do strenuous tasks with it.”

I looked over to the guard again and asked.

“Which hand was Henry holding the club with?”

“It was in his left hand.”

The guard answered. Since it had happened just the day before, it was easy to remember which hand it was in.

“So, based on the testimonies from the guard, Henry, and John, we have the following facts. Henry historically beat his wife, his whereabouts that day are unclear, he doesn’t remember anything, and when they rushed to the scene where the screams were heard, there was no one else but him and his wife. Under these circumstances, it would seem that Henry beat his wife to death.”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

The guard nodded. Henry hung his head. But I shook my head. This was weird. Unnatural. Something about it felt very unnatural. I asked Henry.

“Henry, when you hit your wife, did you only use your left hand?”

“I think... I used both hands.”

“After you lost your job due to your right arm injury, did you ever try to rehabilitate your left hand to use tools?”

“….. No. My wife earns money, and…. I’m busy drinking…..”

The audience looked at the trial scene, eager to speak up. Their tightly pressed lips and expressions full of discontent made it clear that they were hoping for Henry’s swift execution. But I had no intention of doing that. This case… something was definitely strange.

A right-handed drunk, completely incapacitated from drinking, who hadn’t trained his left hand—would rationally decide that his left hand would hit the hardest and even picked up a weapon? And then managed to beat his wife to death with that hand?

Something was off. Definitely.

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