Kristoff shouted when the Marquis paused.
Marquis Schneider opened his eyes slightly wider.


It’s been a long time since he called the old man that.
Kristoff used to call him less formally or addressed him more formally as Marquis, except when he was a child.




Marquis Schneider pulled the corners of his mouth.
It was worth coming all the way to the capital.
If it’s not this time, when would Kristoff call him that?


He, who used to be called the cold-blooded King of the Sea, seemed to be getting old.
It’s new to him.


“Follow me.”


Marquis Schneider turned around and showed his back to his grandson.




Lastly, a sense of relief passed through Kristoff’s face.
No, it might be happiness.
Maybe gladness as well.
Maybe there’s also other emotions as well.


And finally.
Standing tall with clenched fists, he slowly cleared out his throat.
His Adam’s apple moved up and down.




Kristoff left the room while quietly reciting her name.
Martin belatedly took his master’s jacket and ran after them.


“My Lord, please wait for me.”




The scenery outside the window passed quickly.
Even the houses that were seen occasionally disappeared quickly, and the endless fields filled his sight most of the time.
A cypress tree quickly disappeared from his sight.


Kristoff’s eyes lingered on the green site, but he wasn’t looking at the tranquil scenery.
Apparent from his faint frown, he was struggling to find answers to the questions that had been bothering him.


“Did you just say the Police Agency?”


The question finally slipped out of his mouth.
As if he couldn’t figure out the answer no matter how hard he thought about it.


Marquis Schneider nodded with his hands on the cane.


“Yes, that’s what I said.”


Kristoff’s eyes instantly turned cold.
He was like a sharp-edged knife all the time.
A dangerous blade or black metal that could cut the opponent’s hands without seeing their status or position at the slightest carelessness.


There’s no way Marquis Schneider could not notice that.
However, he was surprisingly tough dealing with his grandson’s sorrow.
On the surface, he was someone who was once widely-known as the notorious Marquis of Sharks.


He smiled and said leisurely.


“Don’t blame me for doing Marianne a favor.
I care for the child a lot.
Perhaps, more than you think, Kristoff.”


Kristoff, who was watching the Marquis with pitch-black eyes, quietly moved his lips.
Instead of questioning the Marquis, he asked in a low voice.


“You said she’s going by the name of Marianne Haveck?”

“Yes, that’s the name she uses now.”


Marquis Schneider stared at his grandson, whose jawline was sharper than the last time he saw him, and continued to speak in a benevolent voice.


“Let’s see, today must be her first time working.
By the time we get to Blauberg, it’ll be the time when she gets off work.
Despite my dissuasion, Marianne is staying at the boarding house on 31st Street.
The boarding house is run by Louis’s mother, the assistant butler.
He’s waiting for your arrival.
You can follow Louis.”


Kristoff’s complexion suddenly darkened.
His black eyes sank deeply without knowing how to get a grip of himself.
He strained his lower jaw firmly, as if to swallow the rising emotion inside.


Not Marianne Schneider, but Marianne Haveck.
Does she want to abandon the name Schneider? Could she wish to break the link to him? Why?


Unanswered questions flooded his mind again.
At that moment, someone’s name came to the surface.


Veronica Kloze.


“You must be asking, is it because of Veronica that Marianne entered the Police Agency while having to hide her identity?




Marquis Schneider was able to read his mind as if hitting the spot right away.
Kristoff slowly raised his gaze.


He met the Marquis’ eyes.
It felt as if his grandfather’s bluish-gray eyes were blaming his indifference.


“I reviewed Veronica’s case myself.
There was no problem with the case report written by the detective in charge.
It was indeed, unfortunately, suicide.”


A lame excuse slipped from Kristoff’s mouth.
As if Marquis Schneider was Marianne.


The Marquis stared at his grandson.
Kristoff Schneider with the face of a man with integrity.


One day, a long time ago, when he heard about the accident that happened with his son and his wife, he found Kristoff standing still there.


The four-year-old boy was looking at the distorted car body with his black eyes.
He didn’t cry, or scream.
Red blood flowed from his torn forehead.


However, the child didn’t think about wiping the flowing blood, but only looked at the crumpled car beyond recognition without saying anything.


He thought it was a relief.
He thought for any successor of the Schneider Family to be fated to survive in a terrible accident.


Enough to offset the loss of a son.
After that, the Marquis even bet his expectations on Kristoff which he previously bet on his son.
Fortunately, he was a remarkable man and the Marquis was satisfied with him in every aspect.


However, the Marquis, who entered the autumn years of his life, belatedly realized his mistake.
The fact that everything was to satisfy his greed.


He still wished for Kristoff to be happy.
He wished for it from the bottom of his heart.
Having rebuilt the Schneider Family with his own hands, he hoped Kristoff could enjoy it comfortably.




Kristoff, who was looking out the window, clicked his tongue.
It was as if he was frustrated that the train didn’t run faster.


The Marquis’ mouth loosened.
He sighed softly as he recalled the appearance of Kristoff he had seen in the office a while ago.


Marquis Schneider had never seen his grandson lose his temper so much.
He had never seen him so impatient and anxious before.


It might be the first time for a man who had never experienced a single failure to face one in his life.

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