SEM 38

#038

“Impressive.”

Greddy finally spoke after entering the warehouse. Despite being a structure whose faded colors and crumbling condition made it seem like it might collapse at any moment, the interior was lavish.

“It looks more splendid than the Imperial Art Museum.”

“I didn’t know you had a hobby of visiting art museums.”

Greddy clicked his tongue as he looked at the stacked layers of artwork. It seemed the marquis hadn’t merely supported painters; he had indulged in collecting as well.

“His obsession with paintings was far greater than I expected.”

Greddy muttered as he strolled through the warehouse. He had heard before that the marquis loved beautiful things. But now, standing before the paintings he had collected, Greddy was left speechless.

He came to a halt.

<Red Winter>.

Standing before the final masterpiece of the empire’s greatest painter, Greddy admired the painting in silence.

This was the work that had been whispered about for years, having vanished without a trace along with its owner. It was a piece so highly praised that everyone had longed to see it at least once.

“Could this really be <Red Winter>?”

“Looks like it.”

Greddy tore his gaze away from the painting. Despite having discovered something most had only heard about in rumors, he remained surprisingly composed.

“Morris.”

“Yes?”

Morris, who had been staring at <Red Winter> as if possessed, snapped to attention.

“Send this to the Empress’s palace.”

“What?”

Morris looked between Greddy and the painting in shock.

“It’ll be a good shield.”

Greddy glanced once more at <Red Winter> and then frowned. His eyes moved to the countless paintings stacked in the warehouse, and he sighed.

“But…”

Morris hesitated. Greddy, undeterred, waved him off.

There was something more urgent than <Red Winter> right now.

“Morris. Stop admiring and start searching.”

“What painting are we supposed to be looking for?”

At Morris’s question, Greddy swore under his breath and bit his lip.

“…A painting of the Grand Duchess.”

“…That exists?”

“I don’t know. That’s why we need to find out.”

Morris immediately sprang into action.

The framed paintings were relatively easy to examine.

The problem was the sketchbooks. Stacked in boxes like mountains, going through all of them would be nearly impossible.

And they couldn’t call for help. What if—just what if—a nude painting of Eliana really was in there?

That possibility had to be kept to the absolute minimum. Though nothing had been confirmed yet, Greddy’s animal instincts told him something was there.

“These bastards are insane.”

As expected, the sketchbooks were filled with nude paintings of women.

Turning each page, Morris grimaced and gagged.

“We’re out of time.”

There were clearly more than ten boxes.

“You can’t go in there!”

Just then, a commotion erupted outside.

Greddy turned. Their awaited guest had apparently arrived, piercing through the falling rain.

‘Now what?’

“What was he planning to do with all these paintings?”

Masterpieces could be sold for money.

But the sketchbooks of unknown painters—those were clearly the marquis’s private indulgence. Yet Baron Hoffmann had kept them stored alongside the priceless works.

Greddy’s sharp eyes scanned the area. No matter how he thought about it, it didn’t make sense.

“Burn them.”

“What?”

Morris, flipping through a sketchbook, froze mid-motion, his mouth hanging open in shock.

“I don’t think we’ll be able to stop this anymore. While I handle Baron Hoffmann, throw all the sketchbook boxes outside.”

It was raining. Even the finest paper wouldn’t survive such a downpour.

“Are you serious?”

“How long do you plan to keep digging through that?”

“But!”

“Burn it. You have to get rid of anything that could come back to bite you.”

It was strange. Though he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, Greddy had a gut feeling—Eliana’s nude portrait had to be here.

Turning his back on the stacked boxes, Greddy gave Morris a nod. Morris closed the sketchbook and followed him.

Morris staggered as he lifted the smallest box onto his shoulder.

Seeing this, Greddy strode toward the door. Baron Hoffmann’s voice grew louder.

Bang!

The door burst open, and Baron Hoffmann entered, red-faced and pointing angrily at Greddy.

Meanwhile, the flames stoked by the warehouse keeper had grown. Likely lit by the men who had come with Greddy to push back the darkness.

“What the hell are you doing, Your Grace?!”

Before Hoffmann could finish yelling, Morris, breath heavy, hurled the sketchbook box into the fire. The flames, meeting the oil-soaked fine paper, roared to life.

“You three, follow me!”

Morris motioned to the few men brawling with Hoffmann’s subordinates.

“Y-you wouldn’t!”

Hoffmann’s eyes widened as he saw the sketchbooks burning.

“What brings you here, Baron?”

“That’s what I’d like to ask! What on earth are you doing in someone else’s warehouse?!”

Hoffmann screamed, seemingly forgetting he was shouting at a Grand Duke.

Watching Hoffmann thrash like a boar, Greddy looked up at the sky.

He really wished he’d had that cup of tea with Eliana.

“Someone else’s warehouse? How is this someone else’s?”

Meanwhile, the men Morris had led began throwing more boxes into the fire.

“What are you doing with another man’s property?! Stop at once!”

“Now’s hardly the time to be shouting, Baron.”

Greddy blocked Hoffmann, who tried to enter the warehouse. The clenched jaw clearly showed how displeased he was.

“I will inform His Majesty of this outrageous act! The Kryber Duchy will be held accountable—expect a formal claim for damages!”

“Suit yourself. Ah—this is our lawyer, by the way. Since we’re all here, why not say hello?”

Greddy pointed at Morris with his chin. Morris, sweating as he tossed books into the fire, removed his hat and bowed.

“Do you even know who I am?!”

“What, you mean the lunatic father-in-law who tried to steal his daughter’s assets?”

Greddy mocked. The long umbrella in his hand swayed menacingly, the sharp end looking like it might pierce Hoffmann’s chest at any moment.

“Do you have proof these belong to Eliana?”

“Do you have proof they belong to you?”

The marquis’s secret hobby wasn’t something he could proudly show the public. No one would testify these assets belonged to the late marquis.

Greddy had realized this quickly and stood more confidently than ever.

A little cut on the forehead from a seal was nothing. Compared to the fear he’d felt when a sword pierced his thigh and he thought he might never walk again, this was child’s play.

“…”

“Or was this always your kind of thing?”

Greddy leaned closer and whispered in Baron Hoffmann’s ear. Hoffmann, not dull enough to miss the implications, murmured flatly,

“This is all by His Majesty’s will.”

Hoffmann swallowed dryly.

“My will is His Majesty’s will.”

Recalling Duke Lloyd’s words, Hoffmann straightened his back.

After being humiliated by the Grand Duke and scrambling to prepare a wedding, he had desperately clung to Duke Lloyd.

He had practically handed over half his fortune, just to meet with the Duke again. And then, hearing whispers about a certain painting, the Duke showed immense interest.

Though Hoffmann never met the Emperor himself, the Duke had said the Emperor shared this interest in rare art. As the Emperor’s mentor, surely his word was truth.

“If I can just get a room in the palace, I don’t care if I give up my entire fortune. I can always earn it back later!”

Meanwhile, Greddy’s face stiffened at Hoffmann’s words.

Seeing this, Hoffmann smirked.

The sketchbooks were already up in flames by Greddy’s orders. Once the Emperor heard about it, Greddy would not escape unscathed.

“……”

“Shouldn’t you leap into that fire and try to salvage what’s left of the sketchbooks?”

“……”

“A loyal dog would dive into the flames if its master commanded it. Then, when you meet His Majesty, you can proudly say you clawed your way through the fire like a hound, painting in your jaws.”

Hoffmann sneered, as if getting his revenge for the earlier humiliation.