“M-Murder?” Lucious repeated, his voice rising in disbelief. “Are you saying someone intentionally pushed the boulders onto them, Young Master?”

Cassius chuckled softly, a low, humourless sound that made the hair on the back of their necks stand on end. He shook his head, his smile sharp and insidious.

“Oh no. Not at all.” He said quickly. “That part really was an accident. A freak occurrence, as they say.”

Lucious frowned, his confusion deepening. “Then…What do you mean by murder?”

Cassius’s gaze swept over the crowd, his eyes gleaming as he spoke, his voice now colder, quieter. “The murder wasn’t in the accident itself.” He said, his tone laced with disdain. “It was in what could have been avoided. Lives that could have been saved…if not for the selfishness of one man.”

His words settled heavily over the room, the servants frozen in a mix of shock and dread.

While they were wondering who exactly was this individual he was talking about, Cassius reached for the table beside him and picked up the construction safety helmet that seemed to have some weird symbols on it. The object gleamed faintly under the chandelier’s light, its surface unmarred, the design sturdy and practical.

Cassius then turned it over in his hands, examining it as if it held the answer to the very question he had posed.

“Do you know what this is?” He asked the crowd, his tone soft but commanding, as he held the helmet up slightly, letting the room take in the sight.

Lucious furrowed his brows but didn’t answer, waiting for his master to continue.

Cassius ran a finger along the edge of the helmet, his expression unreadable as he continued saying, “To those of you who have never been to the mines before, this is a standard enhanced safety helmet. Every miner in the Holyfield mines was issued one as part of their gear. It’s equipped with an advanced safety feature—an Eather-based repulsion rune.”

The servants exchanged confused glances, their unease growing.

“The repulsion rune…” Cassius continued, his voice steady as he traced the helmet’s surface. “…creates a short energy pulse that can deflect or soften impacts. Even if a boulder—or anything else—slams into the helmet, the rune activates, pushing it back and drastically reducing the force of the blow.”

Lucious’s eyes widened slightly, his mind quickly piecing together the implications of what his master was saying.

“This…” Cassius said, his tone turning icy. “…is the standard of safety we provided for every worker in our mines. Expensive, yes. Advanced technology, yes.”

“…But it was worth it, because it saved lives. Every worker had a complete set of such equipment.”

He paused, holding the helmet up higher, his gaze sweeping over the room again. “And yet…” His voice dropped, his next words chilling in their simplicity. “Those miners still died.”

The servants shuddered, the cold truth sinking into their bones.

Lucious hesitated before speaking, his voice careful. “If they were all wearing this…then how?”

Cassius lowered the helmet slightly, his eyes narrowing as a bitter smile curled at his lips. “Ah…That, my dear Lucious, is where the murder begins.”

The room grew impossibly quiet, every servant hanging on his words as he prepared to reveal the truth behind the tragedy.

Cassius held the helmet up, turning it slightly so the gathered servants could see every detail. His expression darkened, his voice growing colder as he continued.

“This helmet that you see here is not an actual helmet equipped with the repulsion ruin, just like the ones the miners who died wore. This and the ones given to that batch of workers were nothing but a collection of cheap, faulty imitations. Foamy and fake, down to the very runes that should have saved their lives.”

The crowd gasped in disbelief, their eyes widening in shock. A few of the servants began whispering among themselves about the impact of this information, their voices low and filled with horror.

Cassius ignored their murmurs, his crimson eyes locking onto the helmet as though he could see the betrayal etched into its surface.

“Apparently…” He continued, his tone laced with venom. “The man in charge of the miners and the equipment they used thought it would be a brilliant idea to purchase low-quality goods with the budget allotted for safety gear.”

He set the helmet down on the table beside him with a soft thud, his fingers lingering on its edge.

“And, of course.” He added bitterly. “He pocketed the rest of the funds for himself, thinking no one would ever notice.”

Another ripple of gasps swept through the crowd, the shock and disgust on their faces unmistakable.

Lucious’s eyes narrowed slightly, his brow furrowing as he processed his master’s words.

“But he was caught, wasn’t he?” He asked eagerly, his voice firm with conviction. “Surely, after an accident like that, he couldn’t hide his sins, especially from the Holyfield who would never tolerate such behaviour.”

Cassius nodded slowly, though his expression didn’t relax. “Oh, he was caught.” He said. “Red-handed. Once the accident occurred, the truth about the faulty equipment came to light, and his guilt was undeniable.”

Lucious’s eyes lit up, a rare glimmer of excitement breaking through his otherwise composed demeanour. “What happened to him?” He asked, his voice brimming with anticipation. “Did he get the punishment he deserved?”

Cassius’s lips curled into a faint smile, though it lacked any warmth. He sat back in his chair, sighing as he looked at the helmet by his side.

“He did.” He said simply. “Не, along with the supplier who provided the fake goods, were hanged for what they did.”

The servants collectively let out a sigh of relief, their tension easing slightly. A few even said soft words of approval, their unease giving way to a sense of justice served.

Lucious smiled as well, his posture straightening.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it, Young Master?” He said cheerfully. “He got what he deserved.”

Cassius’s faint smile didn’t waver, but a shadow passed over his expression, his fiery eyes darkening.

“Well, it would be a good thing…” He said wryly, his tone edged with bitterness. “…if the man who was hanged had actually been guilty.”

The air in the room froze.

The servants, who had just begun to relax, now stiffened again, their eyes wide with shock. Even Lucious blinked, his smile fading as confusion and disbelief clouded his expression.

“What are you saying, Young Master?…Did you not just say they were the ones responsible for the accident?” He asked carefully.

Cassius leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he clasped his hands together and said, “What I’m saying is that the man who was punished was nothing more than a scapegoat.”

The crowd erupted into hushed whispers, their disbelief turning to outrage.

Lucious’s brows furrowed deeply, his earlier excitement now replaced with anger. “A scapegoat?” He repeated, his tone sharp. “Then who was the real conspirator?”

Cassius’s smile widened, though there was no joy in it—only a cold, calculating amusement.

“The real conspirator…” He said, his voice carrying a quiet menace. “…was the man who panicked the moment he realised he might be caught. And instead of facing the consequences of his actions, he meticulously framed one of his subordinates, planting evidence and crafting a perfect narrative to shift the blame.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the room. “And it worked.” He continued. “He escaped completely unnoticed, his reputation intact.”

“…To this day, he’s living comfortably, free from guilt, while an innocent man and his family paid the price for his sins.”

The room was silent, the weight of the revelation pressing down on everyone like a lead weight. The earlier sense of justice and relief was gone, replaced by dismay and outrage.

Lucious shook his head while biting his lips as he struggled to contain his anger.

“T-That’s…monstrous!’ He said, his voice trembling slightly. “How could something like that happen!?”

Cassius tilted his head slightly, his eyes gleaming. “How?” He repeated. “Because greed makes men blind. And desperation makes them cruel.”

His gaze then swept over the room, his smile fading as his tone grew colder, and he continued saying, “And that…is exactly why I despise rats. Because when cornered, they will do anything to save themselves—no matter who gets hurt in the process.”

“So tell me, Lucious.” Cassius said as he ignored the crowd that felt ashamed to be compared to such a criminal and turned his attention to Lucious by his side. “If you were to get your hands on a rat like that—the one who framed an innocent man to save himself—what would you do?”

Lucious’s gaze narrowed, his earlier composure crumbling under the weight of his frustration. He clenched his fists at his sides, the anger in his voice barely contained.

“I…I’m not sure exactly what I’d do, my lord.” He admitted, his tone heated. “But I’d want him to suffer the same pain, the same consequences, as the people he sabotaged.”

He paused, his eyes trembling before he continued.

“It’s only when he falls—when he’s brought to justice—that the people who died because of him can finally rest in peace. And their families…their families can get the closure they deserve.”

Hearing Lucious’s endearing words, Cassius’s expression suddenly shifted out of nowhere, his lips curling into a wide, almost delighted smile.

“Ah!” He said with excitement, his tone carrying an almost eerie glee. “If that’s what you want to see, Lucious, then you’re in luck…It must be your lucky day as your wish is about to come true.”

Lucious blinked, startled by the abrupt change in his master’s demeanour. “In luck? My wish is about to come true?” He repeated cautiously. “Why do you say that, Young Master?”

Cassius leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the armrests of his chair as his red eyes gleamed.

“Why?” He echoed, his smile widening even further as he continued saying, “Because the rat that fled from the Holyfield mines….The one who orchestrated all of this ended up seeking shelter here, in the Holyfield household.”

The room erupted into gasps, the crowd recoiling in shock as they exchanged panicked glances. Whispers broke out among the servants, their voices full of disgust that such a person was among them.

“Here?” One of them murmured.

“In this household?” Another whispered, his tone trembling.

Lucious’s eyes widened, his shock mirrored in the expressions of the gathered staff. “He’s…here?” He asked, his voice sharp with disbelief.

Cassius nodded slowly, his smile softening into something far more sinister. “Indeed…Using his high connections, he managed to worm his way into the estate. He’s been living comfortably ever since, as if nothing happened…As if the lives he destroyed were just a trivial matter.”

Before anyone could muster the courage to ask who it was, Cassius’s gaze shifted. Slowly, deliberately, his eyes locked onto a single figure in the crowd.

The room fell silent, the weight of his gaze drawing everyone’s attention.

Cassius’s smile faded into something colder, more insidious, as he spoke.

“Isn’t that right…Mr. Harland? Or Mr Rat, should I say. You did a splendid job of hoodwinking everyone and creating your own safe haven in this estate, didn’t you?”

All eyes turned to the man Cassius had singled out—the middle-aged head supervisor standing near the back of the room, who was the one who argued against his master earlier and even threatened to report him to the patriarch.

His face paled instantly, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he realised the full intensity of Cassius’s attention was on him, even though he prayed to God that wouldn’t happen while he was listening to his own story which no one was supposed to know about.

Cassius’s voice then dropped, his tone laced with venom as he stared at the guilty man before him,

“You truly fled a long way, didn’t you?…Like the filthy rat you are.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep