"First off... it's the 'fifty-fifty split.' That isn't being upheld."
At John's words, my eyebrow twitched visibly.
"The fifty-fifty split... that's where the profits are split down the middle between the merchant and the prostitute, right?"
"Right."
John nodded firmly.
"If it's not being upheld, it means the merchant is taking more, but personally, I think half for the merchant is taking too much in the first place."
"That can't be helped," I said.
Rion looked mildly surprised.
"Is that so?"
"Does that surprise you?"
"Well, yeah. To be blunt."
"I get how you feel emotionally. The women are putting their bodies on the line, so their cut ought to be larger. That's what you want to say, isn't it?"
"Yeah."
"However, why do you think the Empire set a quota for prostitutes in the first place? To keep them from slipping underground. If regulations are too strict and whole brothels hide where the law can't reach, the women's treatment will plummet overnight."
"Is that how it goes?"
"John should understand best, shouldn't he? Having escaped an illegal slave merchant himself."
"...Yes."
John gave a solemn nod.
"Slaves under merchants officially licensed by the state are at least treated like human beings because the merchants live in fear of losing their licenses. But under illegal slave merchants, you're not treated like human at all."
"I see, so prostitutes would end up just like slaves."
Rion nodded, seeming somewhat persuaded.
"Exactly. When the Empire set the quota, it laid down two main requirements: protecting the women's personal safety, and properly testing for and treating venereal diseases. In exchange for ruthlessly enforcing those two conditions, merchants are allowed to take half."
"I see. So that's the logic."
"And as for that bastard... he's definitely breaking the fifty-fifty split."
John stated this unequivocally.
"Your proof?" I asked.
"I tipped the girl assigned to me during the undercover investigation generously, and she spilled everything."
"And the actual breakdown?"
"...Eighty-twenty."
"..."
"Whoa, hold on... an 'eighty-twenty split'? That's completely out of line!"
"That's what I thought, too. But when I slipped the little maid some pocket money, she told me the other girls were venting about the exact same thing."
"...I see."
An eighty-twenty split.
I turned the phrase—and the ratio—over in my mind.
Then I recalled the mountain of gifts brought to me yesterday.
All of it had been squeezed straight out of those women.
Nodding, I turned to Rion.
"How about on your end?"
"I couldn't dig up anything too deep. Or rather, there was no need to ask."
"Why?"
"Because there was a 'rose' on the girl's back."
Rion gave a troubled smile.
This time, John was the one taken aback.
"A 'rose'... you mean rose spots?"
"Yeah."
Rose spots.
A venereal disease, called that because rose-like rashes and blemishes spread across the body once it set in.
It had a high mortality rate, making it something brothel owners were strictly required to manage.
Yet he had seen it firsthand.
What was worse, she was entertaining customers as if nothing were wrong.
"What did you say to her?"
"I pointed it out, of course, but she just went, 'A lot of the girls have this, I wonder what it is.'"
"..."
"She didn't seem to be lying. It really felt like she just didn't know."
"Which means... the disease is spreading...? And they don't even realize it?"
John was dumbfounded.
"That would be the conclusion."
"Master! Give the order!"
"What order?"
"I'll go lock down his brothel right now. I'll secure the girls assigned to me and Rion as witnesses, too."
"No need."
"Huh? Wh-Why?"
"...Ah."
While John sputtered in confusion, a look of realization dawned on Rion's face.
Just as John was about to plead his case again, a knock came at the door.
When I answered, Zoe opened the door, bowed, and stepped inside.
"How was it?"
"Just as Master anticipated."
Zoe answered instantly, her face blank.
No, not blank.
Her eyes held a murderous edge sharp enough to kill.
She was thoroughly enraged—furious, to put it plainly.
"Deborah, Carla, and a young girl named Carrie. All three were pushed down a well inside the brothel just moments ago."
"What?!"
"Ah..."
John gasped in shock, while Rion grimaced as though he had bitten into something foul.
Having already pieced it together—or at least suspected it—Rion remained calm, partly out of grim acceptance. But John boiled over like a tea kettle, his face flushing crimson as if steam were about to vent from his ears.
"He tried to silence them?! That bastard!"
"That is correct."
"What happened to Deborah?!"
John demanded an answer about her safety, his voice bordering on an interrogation.
Judging by his reaction, Deborah was the girl assigned to him.
"Rest assured."
"Huh?"
"Master anticipated this would happen beforehand, which is why he entrusted Lady Humbaba to me."
At Zoe's words, John blinked in total bewilderment.
An instant later, the beautiful spirit woman materialized behind Zoe.
Huwawa, once trapped within a painting, had awakened into the far more striking form of Humbaba.
She appeared with a gentle, almost maternal smile before slipping back into my ring.
With Humbaba's presence confirmed, Zoe continued.
"I rescued all three immediately and brought them back."
"I-Is that so..."
A wave of visible relief washed over John's face.
Incidentally, John always spoke to Zoe with a subtle touch of deference.
Both were my subordinates, but Zoe was already a grown woman when I took John in, whereas John had been nothing more than a child.
Because of that, Zoe had looked after the food and clothing for the children rescued from the illegal slave merchants, John included.
Owing to those days, while John played the part of a frank, foolish subordinate with me, he still treated Zoe with a degree of polite respect.
I had never asked, but he likely saw her as an older sister.
"Incredible as always. You mean you knew from the start he'd try to silence them?"
Rion offered his praise.
"It wasn't hard to predict. Both the silencing itself and using a well to do it. Crude and completely unoriginal."
I spoke coldly.
It was an "accident" that happened from time to time even within the palace.
It had ceased during His Majesty's reign, but in the past, whenever a court lady or servant who was not a consort caught the Emperor's fancy, she would often suffer a fatal fall into a well not long after.
Naturally, it was murder.
Poison left traces in the body as evidence, but with a fall down a well, it was impossible to tell murder from a tragic accident by examining the corpse.
For that reason, throwing someone down a well was practically the standard method for tying up loose ends.
I looked at Zoe.
Though I had already guessed, I asked anyway.
"How badly are they injured?"
"Their physical wounds are mere scratches. However, they are in shock and deeply distressed."
"Anyone would be after an attempt on their life. Don't press them until they've had time to calm down."
"Yes, Master."
"I'm leaving it entirely in your hands. Do whatever is necessary, but do not let them die."
"Understood."
Zoe bowed and left the room.
"John."
"Yes!"
"Take the soldiers and surround the brothel. Anyone may enter, but no one leaves."
"Yes, sir!"
"Above all, protect the women. Do not let a single one die."
"Understood!"
"Rion."
"Got it."
"Go to Kegna's estate and bring the man himself here. If he comes quietly, fine. If he resists—"
"As long as he's breathing, anything goes, right?"
"Indeed."
"Understood!"
Unlike John, Rion was not only fiercely loyal but well-accustomed to rough work, and he answered with a grin.
His lips curved upward, but his eyes were stone cold, burning with quiet fury.
Vulnerable prostitutes, sickness running rampant, and on top of that, an attempt to butcher them to cover his tracks.
There was no question he felt pure, righteous indignation at such methods.
"Go."
"Yes, sir!" they answered in unison.
Having received their orders, the two turned and set out to carry them through.