The Count felt a violent pain, and his eyes went white.
When he finally came to his senses, the Count had fallen and hit his head against a wall.
The enraged Count yelled at Fernand, who was looking down at him.
"You bastard! Are you sane?"
But instead of answering, Fernand strode over and strangled the Count with both hands.
No matter how D-class he was, Fernand was a transcendent. The Count was an ordinary person, and the difference in physical strength with the older Count was overwhelming.
It was impossible to escape.
How many tens of seconds had passed since he was strangled like that? The Count's eyes went black. He had fainted.
By the time he came to his senses, Fernand had already vanished.
"You damn bastard... Did you do something like this and leave?"
He never released his pension.
Left alone, the Count laughed. He could clearly guess where he was headed.
It's a gambling board. It's just a place he wants to go to after committing such a debacle.
"Don't you even know your father anymore? Who saved you from being almost executed?"
He felt a sense of emptiness. His son strangled him. The Count is ashamed of this, so he can't say anything.
'Did I waste my life just to grow something like that?'
It was that moment. Outside Fernand's open door, worried voices sounded.
"Are you okay? What the hell is going on... Oh my God!"
It was the voice of a woman he hadn't heard in a very long time, and he had once thought quite cute.
Vanessa.
Another name is Mrs. Becker. She hurriedly approached the Count with a sloppy stride.
"I heard a loud noise downstairs and came down. How could you be lying on the floor with such a precious body?"
Speaking of which, he heard a report that she became very lame after giving birth. The report flashed through the Count's mind.
"Oh my God. Why did your neck turn so red?"
Mrs. Becker's face was much more damaged than it had been two years ago. Shortly after Odette's death, Fernand, angry at the loss of his toy, threw Mrs. Becker into the attic.
Since then, she's only seen her child in the attic, so it's no wonder her face hurts like that.
'I didn't want to look bad at that time, so I wanted both the child and this woman to die.'
He didn't want to have an annoying illegitimate child, so he pushed AlphaIdyllium into this woman's body just like that. Still, he felt that this pregnant woman was so tough and boring.
Did she give birth to a child alone in a cold attic?
At that time, he vaguely remembered hearing that she had begged him to call a doctor or a midwife.
The Count wanted them both to die, so he pretended not to hear their pleas.
The day when she looks happy with that face will come.
"Cough, cough!"
The Count took a breath, and a cough came out reflexively.
"Oh my. Are you okay? I'll call a doctor!"
"Cough. There we go, Vanessa."
The Count had not called her name in a very long time.
Still, he was sensitive when he heard that Siegfried's daughter was aiming for the mansion.
Meanwhile, the only heir committed a crime. Is that so? At least for this moment, he felt fortunate to have an illegitimate child, the only bloodline left for him.
Perhaps because of this, the Count's voice was soft.
"Oh, Count."
Mrs. Becker was stunned by his voice. Since she had lived with his lover for a long time, she noticed that there was a gap in his heart.
The Count had called her name in the hope that she would notice in the first place.
"Please help me. I have to go to the Oval Office."
The Count was going to prepare for the worst.
Rolf had been investigating Charlotte quite thoroughly since he received the order.
It even brought about the point of contact between Charlotte and Paula, which never came out.
Five years ago, when Paula was Sasha's maid in the entourage. They said that she and Sasha passed a mountain pass on their way to Shylock.
The mountain road was steep, so she stopped at a mountain village to buy herbs to soothe Sasha's motion sickness, and that was the village where Charlotte grew up.
They said it was Charlotte who gave her the motion sickness medicine. At that time, young Charlotte was the only apothecary in the mountain village.
"In the worst case, I have to accept Charlotte by adopting her."
The Count had no social reputation, no prestige, and no money. The reporters who manipulated public opinion in favor of the Count had long since left.
Odette's attitude encouraged him even more. After she was resurrected, she reacted coldly when a reporter asked her about the Count.
Like Siegfried's daughter. She acted as if she were trying to push Ulrich into a corner.
The only thing left for the Count is a pharmaceutical company, and if this collapses, he will become a nobleman with nothing but a facade. It is to become the so-called fallen aristocracy.
"That's not going to happen...It will never happen."
What the Count needed now was 'negotiation'.
If Charlotte is adopted, the Count will again become a purifier in the family with a daughter.
Charlotte, if not as much as Odette, who is now in the spotlight, was one of the only purifiers. He wouldn't want to be with her, so it would be easier to settle with the nobles who sued the Count.
In addition, Charlotte agreed to give up the money paid to the purifier. It was a small amount of money compared to the scale of the reparations, but even that was desperately needed by the Count.
Odette, who is his biological daughter, lives in the cathedral, but if he adopts Charlotte and brings her into the mansion, what will she say outside?
He knew it would amplify the allegations of abuse, but he didn't have time to think about it now.
Far from passing it on to his successor, Count Albrecht was about to be dissolved. He had to put out the fire first.
He let out a low tone. He had a hunch that the time was approaching when he needed to make a decision.
***
"Then, take a rest. Count."
As she closed the door of her office, the pitifulness disappeared from Mrs. Becker's expression.
Her face was tingling with anger.
'Damn Count.'
In her last childbirth, Mrs. Becker had suffered severe damage to her uterus. She was bleeding heavily and had an infection.
If Malea hadn't secretly let the midwife in, neither she nor her son would have died.
"Alpharidillium, how long have I been eating that damn thing? These days, mothers don't have any maternal love. Thank you for the fact that it ended in a difficult birth. It's good to survive."
The cause of the dystocia was alpharidylium.
How angry she was when she found out that her lover had given her a medicine that was more toxic than childbirth for such a long time.
Mrs. Becker climbed the stairs with her fists clenched. In the midst of all this, she had to walk up to the attic.
She limped and gnashed her teeth with every step.
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