Chapter 275: Hastur: Don’t Think You Can Find My Weakness

Chapter 275: Hastur: Don't Think You Can Find My Weakness

Duke Southwell was a middle-aged noble who fit the stereotype perfectly. His waistline was three times that of an average middle-aged noble. As for his neck? You'd have to dig through layers of fat to find it.

Judging by the correlation between obesity and wealth, Duke Southwell was undoubtedly very rich.

Only a life of no labor, where one is served while lying down, could produce such a corpulent body. Heaven knows how his short, thick legs managed to support such an overload.

It was truly worrisome; if his upper body were to collapse one day, what a disaster that would be.

These were all the impressions Hastur had upon first seeing Duke Southwell.

Starting from his ancient castle, Hastur traveled to the city center, then took a steam train, and after two transfers, he finally arrived at Duke Southwell's villa on the day of the banquet.

Calling it a villa was an understatement; it was more like a connected complex of buildings, grand and magnificent, exuding the scent of money and power everywhere.

Initially, Hastur's arrival did not attract much attention. After all, according to the correlation between obesity and wealth, Hastur was absolutely poor and destitute.

It wasn't until Duke Southwell publicly called for Hastur that he became the center of attention.

Gasps of surprise were inevitable, as it was impossible to see such a young count in Southwell County.

Hastur offered a few words of blessing and was then invited by Duke Southwell, along with a member of the royal family from Backlund.

Through introductions, Hastur learned that the person monitoring him was sent by the former Duke Southwell.

Yes, all this information came from his own mouth, arrogant and unreserved, while the current Duke Southwell stood by with a smile.

The intention behind such a display was obvious and expected.

What puzzled Hastur was that despite targeting him so blatantly, wasn't Duke Southwell afraid he wouldn't return to Backlund?

As Duke Southwell subtly hinted in his words, this place was far from Backlund and had its own set of rules.

Hastur agreed with this statement; Southwell County indeed suited a different set of rules. So, he silently added the royal member, who started pointing fingers after a few drinks, to his blacklist.

After a brief reprimand from the royal member and some instigation from Duke Southwell, Hastur finally had a bit of freedom.

He habitually tasted the local dessert... and would never take a second bite, it was overly sweet.

Holding a wine glass, he stood slightly away from the crowd, observing Duke Southwell's confidants, matching their images with the information provided by Caius.

For instance, this one was the mayor of a certain city, that one was in charge of a certain port, and another managed a specific area.

One had to admit, Duke Southwell had considerable influence. For his son's twentieth birthday, he invited about two-thirds of the influential nobles in Southwell County.

At this moment, Roselle's famous quote came to mind: "Watch him build his red tower, watch him entertain guests, watch his tower collapse."

After the banquet, Duke Southwell sent someone to invite Hastur to a second event, which Hastur declined, citing his inability to handle more alcohol.

He was then escorted to a specially prepared resting room by Duke Southwell's men.

The room was large, luxuriously decorated, filled with various collectibles, unafraid of theft or damage.

What impressed Hastur the most was a blood-red sphere placed at the top of the bookshelf, about the size of a globe. There was another blood-red sphere among the chandelier decorations.

Curious, Hastur patiently searched around and found three more in some secluded corners, making a total of five blood-red spheres.

Upon closer inspection, these spheres seemed to be carved from red coral, but the color was too vivid, and they emitted a strange fragrance, not of blood, but quite pleasant.

"Aisala, keep a good watch tonight."

Hastur assigned Aisala a patrol duty and then lay on the large bed. Half an hour later, the door was gently opened, and two young girls, about seventeen or eighteen, with similar appearances, barefoot, with loose long hair, and simply dressed in red nightgowns, entered.

Their eyes were like deer in the deep forest, simple, clean, and charming.

"Meow!"

Aisala leaped from the bookshelf to the desk, glaring at the two girls who had suddenly approached.

"Ah... it's a cat."

"So cute, round and chubby."

The two girls were startled by Aisala's sudden appearance but were quickly captivated by her looks.

"Who's there!"

Hastur, naturally not sleeping deeply in such an environment, woke up using Aisala's meow as an excuse.

Seeing Hastur for the first time, the girls' initial reluctance quickly turned to shyness. They lowered their heads, explained their purpose, and occasionally stole glances at Hastur, who was also in his nightgown.

They were, of course, arranged by Duke Southwell, ostensibly to serve Hastur, who couldn't handle his liquor, but secretly to seduce him.

From their simple words, Hastur understood Duke Southwell's plan.

He intended to find Hastur's weakness and corrupt him from within.

Hastur waved them away, saying he didn't need their service.

The girls knelt down, tears welling up, and Hastur had no defense.

"Honorable sir, if we leave this room tonight, we will be sold to the southern continent, and our families will suffer. Please don't drive us out, at least let us stay until tomorrow." They pleaded, tears streaming down their faces.

After some questioning, Hastur learned that Duke Southwell often sought out suitable young girls, especially those who were beautiful and well-built, and rated them like commodities based on their rarity.

They were roughly divided into four grades: Red Rose, Purple Lilac, Pink Camellia, and White Narcissus.

Usually, Duke Southwell didn't require them to do much, even supporting their families to ensure they lived comfortably without manual labor.

Duke Southwell's exact words were: "Rough and withered girls are like flowers about to wilt. Who would place such flowers by their bedside? Only with careful nurturing can they bloom with the charm they deserve."

When needed, Duke Southwell would send girls of different grades to serve guests based on their importance.

The two girls had been under Duke Southwell's watch since they were fourteen, raised for three years, and only sent out to serve today.

With their looks and figures, they could only be rated as second-grade Pink Camellia, but because they were sisters and looked alike, they were rated as the highest grade, White Narcissus.

"..."

Hastur remained silent for a while, only now truly understanding a fraction of Duke Southwell's power.

Since ancient times, to bribe someone, one could use personal favors or temptations like wine, women, and wealth.

Duke Southwell raised a group of girls to bribe and buy off the nobles here, showing that his influence and interests permeated every corner of Southwell County.

The term "local tyrant" was tailor-made for someone like him.

One could imagine how many families would be ruined at Duke Southwell's whim. Hastur didn't believe someone like Duke Southwell would show any mercy to those who disobeyed.

Although the nobles in Backlund also indulged in extreme luxury, they would never bring such matters to the surface, and publicly despised such behavior.

Even when George III needed slaves to secretly build his tomb, he used someone like Carpin to bear all the infamy of slave trading.

"You can make a bed on the floor."

Hastur placed a set of bedding on the floor, indicating they could rest there.

The girls were frightened by this gesture, teary-eyed, but dared not refuse, so they got up, spread the bedding, and lay down, showing their beautiful faces and slender figures.

Unfortunately, Hastur, lying on the bed, couldn't see this scene.

Time passed slowly, and the fragrance in the room seemed to become more pronounced, increasingly pleasant.

"Hmm..."

Feeling a bit hot, Hastur realized something was wrong with the fragrance. He had encountered many such substances through Grellint but had never studied them, leaving Grellint to enjoy them alone.

Clearly, Duke Southwell had set up a series of traps for him.

If he indulged in a night of pleasure, he would indeed have a weakness in Duke Southwell's hands.

Hastur got out of bed, found the five blood-red spheres, and realized the strong fragrance was emanating from them.

He moved the spheres to the table by the window, opened the window, and let the wind carry the fragrance out of the room.

The scent gradually dissipated.

"Meow?"

Aisala widened her eyes in curiosity. Hastur picked her up, covered her eyes, glanced back, and then covered the girls with another set of bedding.

"Did you figure anything out?"

Hastur took out a mirror from his pocket and placed it on another table.

Sharon's figure appeared in the mirror, "Have you heard of the Celestial Cult?"

(End of this chapter)