The Villainous Male Supporting Character Courts Death Every Day : Chapter 18: Roaring

The next morning, Kael requested leave to go out, which greatly displeased Milo.

His golden eyes blazed at the man as if trying to burn holes through him. In the end, he threw his napkin to the floor in anger, grinding his teeth, but still gave his permission.

Kael carried the Duke’s verbal orders and had a pile of official business to attend to, so Milo had no way to refuse. Besides, at this critical juncture, the male lead still had plenty of plot to run through. For both public and private reasons, he ought to let him go.

But emotionally, it was absolutely unacceptable. He was under house arrest, yet his steward was running around everywhere, gallivanting about. What kind of sense did that make?

He threw some passive aggressive remarks at Kael, followed by some threats and warnings, before waving his hand to dismiss him.

In a foul mood, plus exhausted from the previous day’s labor, and with the servants all being rather useless, Milo impatiently sent everyone away and went back to bed himself, burying his head under the covers to sleep it off.

As a result, he slept straight through until the afternoon. No one dared wake him, causing him to sleep too deeply. When he finally got up, his head was spinning and swollen with pain. Outside the window, birds chirped one after another, chattering away, making an unbearable racket.

Milo finally reached his limit. He sat up with a jolt, not even bothering to change clothes, threw on his nightshirt and headed straight down to the greenhouse in the garden, wishing he could roast a few birds to taste. As he passed through the parlor, he suddenly froze.

Milo turned his head in disbelief, his gaze stopping at the most prominent position in the parlor. On the wall, a white cloth covered the lady’s portrait, carefully wrapped and tied with hemp rope, properly packaged, like a corpse wrapped in a shroud.

Milo’s eyes widened, his pupils contracting sharply, his whole body trembling. In that moment, he heard his own voice, hoarse and cracked, twisted beyond recognition: “Who…?”

The next second, his voice suddenly shot up, like fire exploding, sharp enough to pierce the eardrums. Milo trembled as he pointed at the portrait, screaming himself hoarse: “Who?! Who did this?!”

Several servants exchanged glances. One of the older ones stepped forward and said carefully: “Young master, the lady’s portrait cannot be removed. That is the rule. We could only…”

Before he could finish, that servant was kicked to the ground. Milo viciously grabbed the servant’s hair, his eyes red with rage, roaring madly: “Who gave you the nerve! To do something like this!”

Amid the cries of the servants, the youth let out a sky shaking roar: “Was it Kael? Where is Kael? Tell him to get his ass back here! I’ll skin him alive!”

—

At a discreet club not far from the city center, Zabert had arrived early to wait.

It wasn’t that he held any great respect for the person he was about to meet. Rather, in his mind, this was not merely a negotiation, but the key piece for a fallen hero’s return to the peak, an orchestral performance building to its climax.

Zabert sat in a corner of the private room, his fingertips lightly tapping the table as if composing an invisible melody. His expression carried the seasoned polish of years, his brows revealing an artist’s pride and arrogance, but the corners of his mouth trembled slightly, betraying his inner urgency and delight.

His gaze kept sweeping toward the door, his body leaning forward, his chest rising and falling, the tapping of his fingertips growing increasingly rapid, like the surging prelude before a symphony exploded, both excited and expectant.

Just as he was about to jump to his feet, the door opened. An attendant steadily held the door, body slightly lowered, and then a dark haired youth stepped inside. It was Kael.

Zabert immediately stood up, his face beaming with joy as he greeted him: “Steward Kael, you’ve finally come. I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”

Kael gave a slight nod, letting the attendant remove his overcoat, and sat down calmly, cutting straight to the point: “Mr. Zabert, regarding the donation matter, we already have a result here. However…” His dark eyes lowered, busying himself with adjusting his sleeves, not raising his gaze, but his tone suddenly turned cold: “I thought we had already reached an agreement.”

Zabert’s smile faltered. He gave a dry laugh twice, pretending not to understand: “What is Steward Kael talking about? One matter is one matter. Regarding the piano, I am sincerely grateful to the Duke. The music association and the entire music world alike sing praises of the Duke’s household’s cultural spirit.”

Kael raised his eyes. His black pupils reflected the old gentleman’s fawning face, but hearing his words full of claims to credit, he gave a faint smile: “That goes without saying. The Duke’s household has always cared about the arts, always hoping to create a better environment for the empire’s talents. Mr. Zabert, please rest assured, we fully understand your situation.”

Saying this, he took out an envelope from his chest and handed it to Zabert: “The Duke’s household has decided to donate 565 gold coins. Please accept it.”

“F, five hundred sixty five gold coins!” Zabert was wild with joy. This amount was far larger than he had imagined. His eyes lit up, grinning from ear to ear. He took the envelope and thanked him repeatedly: “The Duke is truly benevolent. Please be sure to convey my sincere gratitude to him on my behalf.”

Kael smiled, watching the old gentleman’s fingers caressing the envelope, and raised his hand: “Would you be so kind as to count it, Mr. Zabert?”

“Y, yes.” Zabert eagerly tore open the envelope, then froze abruptly. He spread the contents out on the table, only to see it filled with IOUs of various sizes. Fifty gold coins, seventy five gold coins… all added up, every single one was a promissory note signed by Zabert’s own hand.

Zabert’s breath caught, his whole body stiffening as if frozen solid. His face turned green, then white, finally settling on a dark iron color. Coming back to his senses, he slammed the table and jumped to his feet, roaring: “What is the meaning of this?”

“The Duke is benevolent, and lending a helping hand is but a small effort. If the gentleman has any difficulties, feel free to seek help from the Duke’s household…” Kael still smiled as gently as the wind, but his smile was rather sly: “Otherwise, if word gets out, gossip is a small matter, but damage to the music association’s reputation would not be good.”

“You… you’re spitting blood!” Zabert flew into a rage. He had been embezzling association funds for years, extremely secretly, impossible for outsiders to know. But if his own financial troubles were spread about, it would inevitably raise suspicions. Forget about returning to the peak, he wouldn’t even be able to preserve his reputation in old age, his lifelong honor completely ruined.

On the spot, whether from shame turning to anger or evil rising from the gut, he actually pointed at Kael’s nose and cursed: “You servant, how dare you have no manners! Do you know who I am? When I was performing for His Majesty the King, you weren’t even born yet! Even your master has to give me some leeway. When is it your turn to show off in front of me?”

“Mr. Zabert, please calm your anger,” Kael picked up his pocket watch, glanced at the time, and said lightly: “The whole world knows the music association operates properly. Her Majesty the Queen makes regular annual donations. Your credit and nobility are beyond question.”

These words were meant to comfort, but Zabert was struck as if by five thunderbolts. His face turned ashen, and he collapsed into his seat on the spot.

He enjoyed high prestige, and the association had royal backing. No one had ever dared say a word extra. But this trump card of support had now become a dagger pressed against his heart’s pulse. Touching royal assets, that was no simple embezzlement. It was an offense against royal authority, a grave treason. At best, imprisonment. At worst, confiscation of property and beheading.

Zabert’s teeth chattered, his mouth making clattering sounds. How much did the Duke’s household know, how much did they hold? He couldn’t figure it out at all. Yet the Duke’s household redeeming his IOUs for him seemed like sending charcoal in snowy weather on the surface, but was even more like a silent threat. His body went completely cold, with no power to resist.

“Mr. Zabert, after all, this represents the Duke’s household’s love and support for music,” Kael smiled meaningfully, his tone mild, yet every word carried an edge: “Please be sure to spread the Duke’s benevolence far and wide. We look forward to the music association flourishing under your leadership, making tremendous contributions to the empire’s music.”

“Y… yes… certainly…” Zabert’s face was deathly pale, fear showing in his eyes. He answered in a trembling voice: “I will certainly follow your instructions closely… and promote it vigorously…”

Kael nodded, extremely satisfied. Just as he was about to rise and take his leave, he suddenly seemed to remember something and paused, saying: “Mr. Zabert, you must be quite busy, focusing on composition while also running the music association? I would like to recommend a student, steady and capable, with considerable musical talent, who should be able to share your burdens.”

Hearing this, Zabert’s face recovered some of its color. His mind raced. Could it be that Kael had orchestrated all this just to place a student with him?

His fame was known far and wide. There was no shortage of noble families lining up to ask him to be a nominal teacher. On the spot, he harbored a glimmer of hope, his imagination running wild, a few traces of smugness reappearing on his face. He beamed: “Th… that would be wonderful. May I ask which student, to receive your recommendation, must be quite exceptional.”

Kael held a meaningful smile at the corner of his mouth, and said to the attendant: “Please bring her in.”

Her? Before he could wonder, the attendant opened the door and brought in a young woman. She wore trousers, her brown hair neatly combed and tied back, her face thin, but her expression carried determination and coldness.

“Sophie?” Zabert murmured, as if seeing the Grim Reaper himself. His eyes bulged, his body instantly withering as if drained of all life. A string of strange gurgling sounds rolled from his throat. After a long while, he finally made a sound, extremely hoarse: “…You’re Sophie? It can’t be… really you?”

Sophie gave a cold bow: “Father. Long time no see.”

Kael gestured to introduce: “Miss Sophie is exceptionally gifted in music. With father and daughter working together, you should be able to run the association splendidly, making tremendous contributions to the empire’s music.” The implication was that Sophie would be allowed to get involved in the music association’s operations.

When investigating Zabert’s background, he had accidentally discovered Zabert’s financial situation. It turned out that having no worthy heirs was merely a smokescreen. The old man’s own financial holes were the truly shocking part.

He had been acquiring debt claims through various channels, partly to ensure the炒作 of the music world’s treasure went off without a hitch, not letting a bad apple spoil the whole barrel. On the other hand, he did indeed have ambitions, waiting for an opportunity to get his foot in the door of the music association. And the biggest unexpected bonus in all of this was discovering Sophie’s existence.

It turned out Zabert had sold his daughter to pay his debts, sending Sophie, this illegitimate daughter, abroad to study, when in reality she had become a plaything for financial tycoons.

This scandal was Zabert’s most closely guarded secret. Now Sophie’s appearance was exposing his disgrace completely in broad daylight. In an instant, Zabert seemed to age several decades, haggard and withered, utterly dispirited.

Kael opened his pocket watch to check the time, exchanged a glance with Sophie, nodded his farewell, and left the remaining space to the emotionally complicated father and daughter.

After rescuing Sophie, she regarded him as her benefactor, grateful in her heart. Toward her father Zabert, however, she hated him to the bone. If cultivated properly, placing Sophie by Zabert’s side, controlling Zabert through Sophie, controlling the music association, and even influencing the arts circle, was Kael’s original plan.

This plan could have been even more thorough, but unfortunately, for Victor’s sake, everything had to be moved up.

He had no choice but to bring Sophie into the city early. Although they hadn’t yet built a deep enough relationship, at the very least they shared common interests and goals. In the short term, they could still cooperate.

In any case, he had to settle the marriage alliance rumors first.

Kael thought to himself. Afterward, he would promote Sophie to fame, let her taste the flavor of fame and fortune. With her scandal in his hands, he wouldn’t have to worry about being unable to control her in the future.

Kael walked out of the club. A servant who had rushed from the villa was waiting outside. Seeing Kael emerge, he hurried forward to report in a low voice. Kael listened for a moment, the harshness in his eyes gradually dispersing, replaced by a wave of tenderness. He sighed, but the corners of his mouth curved into a smile: “Let’s go back. The young master can’t wait any longer.”