Try Begging

Chapter 85

It was a drive by car from the annex to the front gate of the mansion.

It wasn’t until well after twenty minutes of leisurely walking that the inspector’s figure came into view beyond the iron bars of the front gate. He was nervously pacing in front of the stopped sedan with his hands behind his back.

A major general’s rank insignia flashed from his shoulder.

“Open the door right now.”

Leon ordered the gatekeeper and saluted him insincerely.

He lowered his hand as soon as the inspector, who had raised his eyes and glared at him disapprovingly, reluctantly accepted the salute. The inspector didn’t look very good, probably because he had been standing under the scorching sun for a long time.

Of course, Leon did not care about the uninvited guests.

“I don’t remember a prior appointment, but welcome anyway.”

He asked for a handshake and rolled his eyes and smiled.

“Today’s party starts at six, so you’re a little early.”

Leon pretended to check his watch.

It was just past 11:00 AM.

“By the way, I don’t remember sending out party invitations… are you familiar with my mother?”

“In Captain’s eyes, I look like someone who came to play.”

Undeterred by the intense glare of a middle-aged man, he nonchalantly carried himself, his eyes meeting the fiery gaze that seemed to pierce through.

What an obstinate human being.

Refusing to resort to bribery or appeasement, as they would only serve as acknowledgments of his own vulnerability, Leon directed his focus towards the main mansion rather than the annex, hoping to handle matters appropriately. Yet even that approach appeared futile.

“I want to see the captain’s famous torture chamber.”

The inspector pointed out the purpose of the visit straight-forward. It seemed that he had decided to press on from the front instead of from behind.

“You are too late. The torture chamber has already been closed. This is just the Winston family’s private residence now.”

“Private residence…”

The inspector twitched the corner of his mouth and grinned.

“A place where military personnel are on duty, isn’t it a military facility?”

The inspector’s fierce gaze scanned Leon, and the soldiers lined up behind him.

“Oh my, I think we don’t see eye to eye. Since we can’t see a consensus, it might be a good idea to ask the commander first.”

“If that’s the case, I’ve got the answer beforehand.”

Saying so, the inspector laughed and pulled something from under his jacket.

[ As part of the audit, fully inspect all military facilities, so actively cooperate… ]

The inspector smiled at Leon as he read the letter scrawled by the commander.

“Commander Davenport also agrees with me.”

Leon returned the same smile to the inspector.

Would they agree to do the same tomorrow?

Creak.

The heavy door opened with a harsh creaking sound.

The torture chamber, like the corridor, was immersed in silence. Everyone’s eyes turned to the dark room, and the tension was pulled tight like a bowstring. Opening the door, Leon stepped aside and waved his hand respectfully.

It was a sign for him to look around to his heart’s content.

However, the inspector stood with his hands behind his back and just stared at Leon’s smiling face. He was a man reminiscent of a bulldog, with a rugged expression and saggy skin on his face.

“Turn on the light.”

As the bulldog barked, Leon glanced at the soldier in the hallway.

Click.

The moment the switch was turned up, the room was brightly lit.

The inspector at the door scanned the room with his eyes. The dissatisfied look was probably because he couldn’t see people.

He might be looking for traces of people now.

As expected, the inspector stepped inside. Leon just stood in the hallway watching. The man went straight to the bed and ripped out the neatly arranged bedding.

He might be trying to find some hair.

Nonetheless, that wouldn’t come out. Because while the woman was in his office, and he had instructed the maid to clean it up.

In the end, the inspector who couldn’t find any traces of people in the bed ordered his subordinates to search every nook and cranny of the room.

He ordered all the cabinets large enough for a person to enter to be opened, probably thinking that he had hidden the woman somewhere in the room. Not only that but he also checked the bathroom and even knocked on the wall.

This was like a skit.

The woman was tied up in the office on the second floor. Besides, the contraceptive device, which could be evidence that a woman was imprisoned here, was inside the woman’s stomach.

As expected, luck was on his side.

After confirming that there were no clothes or traces of the use of torture instruments, the inspector noticed that nothing else was missing.

“There is no dust.”

The man wiped his finger from the wall and put his finger in front of Leon’s eyes. His fingers were clean.

“Dust doesn’t accumulate in a place that is said to be closed.”

“Closed or not, the day dust is found in the WInston’s residence is the day the head maid is kicked out.”

Leon added in a nonchalant reply.

“By the way, you said it was an inspection, so you seem to be looking for something.”

The inspector pretended not to hear his words and opened the chest of drawers by the door. He opened a fancy box inside and smiled in satisfaction.

“Are these the ones you wear?”

The inspector raised the brown stocking and asked in a crooked tone. Leon couldn’t stop laughing.

“I’m a man too, so I have my preference, but I’m not on that side.”

“Then, who wears it?”

Leon wrinkled his face like someone who had been told to eat stockings.

“What do you mean, wear it? You use it in interrogation. It’s tough, so it’s good with a rope. When tying the limbs, when strangling the neck. You walked a long way to the torture chamber, so should I let one of your lieutenants a demonstration.”

When he proposed with a curl of his eyes, the inspector glared at him again, showing the whites of his eyes.

Eyes full of resentment.

The eyes that look friendly at first glance, but the more you look into them, the more mocking they become.

As the two men’s eye fight continued, the air around them became tense again. He thought he could hear the bulldog breathing heavily. The inspector, who had been staring at him as if he would bite his neck at any moment, suddenly passed him and went out into the hallway.

He thought he had found a dog bone.

Leon turned his attention from the inspector as he began to search the hallway to the stocking he had thrown into the drawer.

It was filthy.

It was disgusting to think of something another man had touched would be wrapping around her thigh.

“Throw it away.”

He grabbed the doorknob and ordered the standing private to step out into the hallway. The bulldog and his pack were rummaging through the laundry bin.

“Tell me what you are looking for and I can help you.”

When Leon, who had been watching from afar, calmly mocked him. The inspector suddenly turned to him, and his eyes flashed.

“I want to see the captain’s office.”

‘…Inspector?’

Grace stood alone in the office, recalling what Winston had said before he left.

‘Could it be because of me?’

But she sighed, shaking off her expectations immediately. How likely is that?

Rattle.

Grace looked out the window and lowered her gaze to her ankle, which sounded like chains. The man had left the shackles on one of her ankles tied to the leg of the desk chair.

She was strapped to a chair that could move freely.

Even though she thought it was sloppy, when she thought about it a little more, she cursed him as a terrible b*stard. It was an office chair with wheels on its legs, so the shackles could not be removed unless it was broken. And if she did, the soldiers guarding outside would hear the noise and run in.

What about opening the window and escaping?

At the thought, she glanced down at her ankles once more. She had no desire to die falling from the second floor with a heavy chair and breaking her neck.

That was how d*mned a person he was.

Grace, who had given up on escaping and rummaged through the desk, let out another sigh. If she took anything here, it would be taken away along with her clothes as soon as she returned to the torture chamber. Because of that, she gave up stealing Winston’s things and decided to get her own.

Her face contorted as she searched the desk again. The buttons ripped from her blouse were neatly displayed in a luxurious ebony cigar box.

“Crazy… does he think these are trophies?”

Grace, who was picking up a small button, thinking of tying it up with tattered threads, stopped her hands abruptly. A small wooden box in the corner of the cigar box caught her eye. It was a rugged and boring object, unsuitable for Winston’s desk, which always had only the finest supplies.

…Why?

The box looked familiar.

It was something she had never seen here when she was a maid…

Intuition whispered to open it. Grace reached for the box.

“Campbell, call the maid to prepare the tea.”

As she was about to pick it up, she heard Winston’s voice outside the door. His voice was louder than usual. As if to warn Grace, who was obviously doing something she was told not to do.

Drop, roll.

In her haste to close the cigar box, a button slipped from her hand and tumbled across the desk, but she couldn’t spare a moment to retrieve it. As the sound of the doorknob turning reached her ears, she swiftly ducked out of sight.

“I don’t need tea.”

As soon as she hid under the desk, the door opened and the voice became clearer. It was the voice of a man. Grace crouched down, closing her open blouse, although knowing that the man couldn’t see her hiding under the desk.

“I’m not free enough to get a cup of tea from the Captain and ch—”

Rattle.

As soon as the chain around her neck made a sound, the stranger’s words stopped.