Try Begging Novel - Chapter 85

It was a distance that required a car ride from the annex to the mansion’s main gate. It was easily twenty minutes after a leisurely walk that the Inspector’s figure came into view beyond the main gate’s iron bars.

The Inspector was pacing nervously in front of a parked sedan with his hands clasped behind his back. The insignia of a Major glinted on his shoulder.

“Open the gate immediately.”

Leon ordered the gatekeeper, then offered a half-hearted salute. As soon as the Inspector, glaring up at him disapprovingly, reluctantly returned the salute, Leon dropped his hand.

The Inspector looked to be in a foul mood, likely from having stood under the blazing sun for too long. Of course, Leon couldn’t care less about the uninvited guest’s state of mind.

“I don’t recall having an appointment, but welcome, nonetheless.”

He offered his hand for a shake and smiled with crinkled eyes.

“The party starts at six today, but you’re a bit early.”

Leon pretended to check his wristwatch. It was barely past eleven in the morning.

“By the way, I don’t remember sending you an invitation… Are you acquainted with my mother?”

“Does the Captain believe I’ve come for a leisurely visit?”

The middle-aged man glared at Leon, who was playing it cool. The whites of his fiercely wide eyes were clearly visible.

What a stuck-up man.

He had no intention of using bribery or persuasion, as that would be tantamount to confessing a weakness. He had planned to divert the Inspector to the main house instead of the annex, deal with him briefly, and send him away, but it seemed even that wouldn’t work.

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

The Inspector directly stated the purpose of his visit. It seemed he had decided to abandon subtle pressure and openly confront him.

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

“A private residence…”

The Inspector twisted the corner of his mouth into a smile.

“A place where military personnel are stationed is a military facility, is it not?”

The Inspector’s sharp gaze swept over Leon and the soldiers lined up behind him.

“Ah, I beg to differ. Since we can’t agree, perhaps it would be best to ask the Commander first.”

“I have already secured the answer to that.”

The Inspector smiled, causing wrinkles around his eyes, and pulled something out from inside his jacket.

[As part of my gratitude, I am thoroughly inspecting all military facilities. Please cooperate fully…]

As Leon read the letter scrawled by the Commander, the Inspector gave him a condescending smile.

“Commander Davenport shares the same view as I do.”

Leon returned the Inspector the exact same smile.

I wonder if he’ll share the same view tomorrow.

Squeak. The massive door opened with a jarring metallic sound. The torture chamber, like the hallway, was steeped in silence. Everyone’s eyes turned toward the dark room, and the tension was drawn taut like a bowstring.

Leon threw the door wide open, stepped aside, and gestured politely with his hand—an invitation to look around freely.

However, the Inspector stood with his hands behind his back, merely glaring at Leon’s smiling face. With his surly expression and sagging facial skin, the man resembled a bulldog.

“Turn on the lights.”

As the bulldog barked, Leon signaled to the soldier standing in the hallway. Click. The room instantly lit up when the switch was flipped.

The Inspector, standing in the doorway, scanned every corner of the room with his eyes. His gaze was clearly dissatisfied, likely because no one was visible.

Now he’ll search for traces of a person.

As expected, the Inspector stepped inside. Leon merely watched the farce from the hallway. The man immediately headed for the bed and rummaged through the neatly made bedding.

Hoping to find a strand of hair, perhaps.

But nothing of the sort would turn up. He had instructed the maid to clean the room while the woman was in the office.

Failing to find any sign of a person in the bed, the Inspector ordered his subordinate to start a random search of every nook and cranny of the room.

He seemed to think the woman was hidden somewhere in the room, so he ordered every cupboard large enough to fit a person to be opened. He checked the bathroom and even knocked on the walls.

It was nothing short of a spectacle.

The woman was tied up in the second-floor office. The contraceptive device, which could serve as evidence that she had been confined here, was inside the woman’s belly.

Just as he thought, luck was on his side.

Having confirmed the absence of clothing or signs of torture equipment, the Inspector noticed something else.

“There’s no dust.”

The man thrust the finger he had run across the lampshade near the wall right in front of Leon’s eyes. The finger was clean.

“How can a place that’s supposedly been shut down not have accumulated dust?”

“Closed or not, the day dust is found in the Winston residence is the day the head maid is dismissed.”

Leon added to his composed reply.

“By the way, you call this an inspection, but you seem to be searching for something.”

The Inspector ignored his comment and abruptly opened the drawer next to the door. Opening a single ornate box inside, the man wore a look of triumphant satisfaction.

“Are these yours, Captain?”

The Inspector held up a pair of brown stockings, asking in a sarcastic tone. Leon didn’t bother to suppress his smile.

“I am a man and I have my proclivities, but that is not one of them.”

“Then who wears them?”

Leon’s face twisted as if he’d been told to eat the stockings.

“Wear them? I use them for my reporting. They’re tough, making them excellent as rope. For binding limbs, or for strangulation. Since you’ve come all this way to the torture chamber, shall I demonstrate on one of your deputies?”

As he offered the proposal, smiling with crinkled eyes, the Inspector glared at him again, the whites of his eyes showing.

A look full of resentment.

And a look that, upon deep inspection, revealed blatant mockery, though superficially it might seem cordial.

As the two men’s staring contest continued, the air around them tightened with tension once more.

He could almost hear the rough, growling breaths of the bulldog. The Inspector, who had been glaring as if ready to tear out his throat, suddenly walked past him and into the hallway.

I thought he found a bone or something.

Leon turned his attention from the Inspector, who had begun searching the hallway, to the stockings the man had tossed into the drawer.

Disgusting.

The thought of an item touched by another man wrapping around the woman’s thighs was revolting.

“Dispose of these.”

He commanded the Private standing by the door handle and stepped out into the hallway. The bulldog and his subordinates were rummaging through the laundry chute.

“If you tell me what you’re looking for, I might be able to help.”

It was the moment Leon, who was watching from afar, casually taunted him. The Inspector suddenly spun toward him, his eyes flashing.

“I want to see the Captain’s office.”