2 Malicious As Me

"My Lord, Lord Ansel. Is there perhaps some misunderstanding between us? Has something occurred in recent days to distress you?"

The Count of Red Frost, under the intoxicating gaze of those sea-blue eyes, even more beguiling than jewels, asked with a forced smile.

"Misunderstanding? No, no, no... there's no misunderstanding, aren't we having quite a delightful conversation?"

Ansel, swaying his wine goblet, spoke with a beaming smile, "I quite fancy the gold you've given me, I adore the magic crystals, and that pair of sisters, I like them too. You see, there is also this—"

He shook the pile of documents in his hand, "This is also a testament to our camaraderie."

"Ah... Without evidence, casually executing a Count would result in quite a cumbersome aftermath."

The young nobleman first sighed at this, then solemnly addressed the Count of Red Frost, "Thank you for sparing me a great deal of precious time. I will cherish this dedication, which shines brighter than gold. Hmm... seven days, no, seven days are too long, let's make it three."

"Throughout the three days you'll be air-dried, I assure you I won't let anything defile your body."

As Ansel spoke, he continued to fondle the beauty beside him, then lazily commanded, "Proceed, Saville."

A moment before the elderly man in a swallowtail suit behind him, Saville, lifted his hand, the Count of Red Frost screamed in incomparable horror.

"Wait! I... I know what you want now! You think that just the documents are not enough, right! Manpower... yes, manpower! The Baron of Iceberg who controls the smuggling routes, the Baron of Howling Wind who controls the looting routes, and... anyway, whoever it is! I can kill them! No, you can execute them, and replace them with people you are satisfied with! This way, you can ensure that all the routes are entirely within your control!"

"Oh ho! You even recommended two capable men, Count, you're really considering for my sake!"

Ansel couldn't help but applaud the Count of Red Frost's spirit of dedication, "You truly are my good friend! It's a shame that Hydral never has friends, so..."

He made a gesture of pity for the Count of Red Frost, "For our friendship to freeze-frame at this most beautiful moment, please, go ahead and die."



"Still waiting?" Ansel looked somewhat dissatisfied at the tall man in front of him who had suddenly stood up, "Our friendship is not so wasteful, Count!"

"Lord Hydral..."

The Count of Red Frost, in an effort to suppress his horror, fixed his eyes on Ansel and said word by word, "Are you going to kill me? Right here, right now? Just to kill me, and not hesitate to tear up the disguise you've maintained for a full six years?"

He called out his fear from the bottom of his lungs, his brain working at a speed it had never done before, "I don't believe I have a value that would warrant you doing this. If you really want to try me, then at least you should take me to the imperial city! At present, you don't have the authority to execute me on the spot!"

— (That's right... that's right, if it were Flamelle, I and my whole family would have been turned into alchemy potions long ago, but now I'm facing Ansel... this monster, who has indeed been pretending all along! But what does that matter, he's been pretending for so long certainly not for fun, there must be a deeper purpose, if I can drag the matter to the imperial city, perhaps the Duke of Gray Tower--)

"'Perhaps the Duke of Gray Tower can give me a line of life'--you're thinking that, aren't you? Count."

Ansel closed one eye, and with the other eye, he looked at the Count of Red Frost through the wine glass and wine, his face, twisted, turbid, deformed, and repulsive.

"It's just..." The young and handsome nobleman shrugged, "We agreed on a seven-three split, him seven me three."

"...." The Count of Red Frost opened his mouth wide, the fear and despair that had been suppressed instantly pressing down on his spine.

Ansel stared at the Count of Red Frost, who was trembling all over, and his body began to tremble as well.

After shaking for two seconds, he finally couldn't hold back, and a cheerful and clear laughter echoed in the banquet hall.

"Hahaha... no, Count, you... hahaha... you really believed it? You really believed I would split the money with him?"

Ansel, who was laughing so heartily that he was practically bending backwards, waved the documents in his hand: "Then what would I need these for? It seems that your trust in the Duke of Gray Tower is merely so."

Ansel, who had been without any pretense, took a deep breath, handed the documents to Saville, and sighed, "It seems I've done pretty well these six years, to actually make you truly believe that I would take over these... TRASH."

The ever charming Ansel suddenly lost his smile on his face.

He looked at the Count of Red Frost expressionlessly, as though he was looking down upon him, even though he was physically looking up.

"Even though there are more effective ways to utilize, even though there are more perfect ways to dominate, even though there are more insolvable ways to plunder... you fools are so content with the benefits you've gained through such lowly and laughable means."

"The thought of being in the same category as you villains, fills me with profound sorrow in the bottom of my heart."

He leaned his elbow on the armrest, one hand curling into a fist to support his tilted head, and said with great displeasure, "Can those villains who CAN'T even win people's love be called villains?"

"...Madman, Hydral indeed only gives birth to madmen, you are no different from your monstrous ancestors!"

The Count of Red Frost who already knew he had no way out, shouted in anger and fear, while he flipped the entire dining table.

It has to be said that although he had fallen to this point, the Count of Red Frost, who was renowned for his bravery in the Northern lands, still had considerable strength.

But the dining utensils and food which should have fallen on Ansel's face, actually... smashed onto the Count of Red Frost himself.

"You see." Ansel, who was lounging, spread out his arms, "This enraged and humiliated look of a defeated dog is also so despicable that it's unbearable."

He sighed deeply, "A villain who can't even accept failure, might as well go back to sucking his mother's milk - oh, by the way, is your mother still alive, Count?"

"You damn Ansel!!!"


The two-meter-tall and four-hundred-pound sturdy body flew directly out, scaring the maidservants and beauties in the banquet hall to scream in fear, but no one dared to scatter and flee.

"Rude." The elderly man behind Ansel, dressed in a tailcoat, didn't move, only said so emotionlessly.

Shouting someone's name is indeed more rude than greeting someone's mother, it makes sense.


The Count of Red Frost who was on the brink of losing his sanity squeezed out words from between his teeth, "Why... why is it me! What is the point of you doing this! What exactly do you, this mad dog who has been pretending for six years want to do!?"

Saville furrowed his brows, just about to step forward, but Ansel raised his hand to signal him to stop, then took the scepter from him, and leisurely walked to the Count of Red Frost.

"Why?" Ansel looked down at him with a smile, "Isn't the answer yourself? Count."

He jabbed the scepter forcefully into the back of the Count of Red Frost's head, pressing his entire head onto the floor, his tone filled with indescribable joy, "Just like you think that as long as a few sheriffs and tax officers are killed, those 'lowly people' will settle down obediently; just like you think it's extremely laughable that they're excited and pinning their hopes on me..."

The young Hydral bent down, his handsome yet heroic face seemed to be covered in deep darkness, he whispered to the Count of Red Frost like a snake dripping venom.

"You keep trying to convince yourself that 'Ansel of Hydral is different from other Hydrals, he is negotiable', 'Everything he has done after coming to the Red Frost territory is to increase bargaining chips for negotiation', 'As long as there's trade, I have a way out', that clown-like appearance of you, who is racking your brains to survive at all costs, but not realizing that you've never had a choice, is really—"

He straightened up, spread his arms wide, took a deep breath, then sighed contentedly, "Really, it's so ridiculous that it's extremely amusing."

The Count of Red Frost, thus ridiculed, felt no anger at this moment.

Instead, he felt an all-encompassing chill from within.

Countless cold hands extended from his veins, gripping his innards, snapping his bones, deeply piercing the sting of fear into his flesh.

Ansel had done so much, not for the sake of advocating justice for those lowly civilians, nor for seizing his own wealth, but merely to trample and torment his dignity and soul at this very moment?

In a daze, the words that Ansel had just spoken rang in the Count of Red Frost's ears.

"The thought of being in the same category as you villains, fills me with profound sorrow in the bottom of my heart."

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