A Regressed Villain: Heroines, Villainesses and Me?

Though theoretically, given the presence of a surveillance team, they could easily monitor individuals' bank accounts and transactions every month to check if they received their salaries on time, the reality was more complex.

In the field, overseeing thousands of individuals was nearly impossible, especially considering that most transactions were conducted in cash with no specific record.

Logically, an individual could easily deposit a small portion of their salary and keep the rest for personal expenses, so monitoring bank statements would require too much work.

It was also amusing how most mayors opted for a cash system for salary purposes.

However, taking out a portion of said income could be possible to apply to individuals unaware of their real salary. This raised a lingering question: while it seemed plausible that lower-wage workers, such as gardeners, might succumb to this manipulation, what about butlers and maids?

These were individuals who had been personally trained and were well-educated to serve high-status people.

It was difficult to believe that they could accept the notion that they deserved such meager compensation compared to others or that they had the same salary as others.

:: What about the guards? The chauffeurs? ::

Rivia interjected during the call, inquiring in a firm tone, as if she could read Avendial's thoughts. She gave a glare to Berlyn, who felt as if he were soon to die, struggling to keep his consciousness.

The pain had already numbed his body, leaving him only with dampness and the last bit of stars he could see in the sky.

:: I told them it was part of a contributory pension scheme or pension funds... Cough! ::

'Hm, that seems plausible.' Avendial, keeping his eyes fixed on the phone screen, felt that it was indeed a feasible method to collect money from the butlers or other employees who worked hard and were smart enough to understand the importance of pensions after they retire.

Given how mayors were personally chosen by the Marquess, though currently among the eight mayors, only one was chosen by Avendial himself, the others served from previous generations.

People had enough trust in them to hand over a portion of their salaries to be returned when they retire.

Naturally, he understood that it was also a legal method, given how all the employees couldn't retire in a single day.

He could easily pay them pensions one by one while continuing to accumulate the funds, like a bank that deposits money from several people, earning interest, and investing in the share market to make profits through the money of those who deposit it.

But it didn't mean that the money of those people had vanished.

Instead, it was just getting used to earn more money.

Avendial understood that this man was earning 583.33 million Imperial Crowns just through the 7% interest from the bank by keeping that 100 billion in his bank account. Find adventures on m_v l|-NovelFire

So, all his methods were exploiting legal loopholes.

:: Master, what should we do with him? :: From the call, Rivia inquired, having also heard confessions from Berlyn, who was about to die.

She understood that most likely his crimes were not sufficient for the death penalty.

Though, of course, she couldn't save him even if she wanted to, she still inquired just so she could at least talk to him.

"Give him a slow death," Avendial said, not caring about what this man's present crimes were.

Given how he had betrayed him in the future, Avendial issued his judgment immediately, lacking the patience to wait for this man to betray him again before punishing him.

:: I see. ::

:: Arrgh... N-no Mar-quess... ::

The call was cut before Berlyn could cry out in agony and beg for mercy.

"Should I switch it off?" Avendial contemplated disconnecting his phone, but before making that final decision, he wanted to take one last look to see if things were unfolding as he hoped.

After confirming that they were indeed progressing perfectly, he cut the call before powering down the device.

"Marquess, there you are," Aecilia said, emerging from the bathroom. Her eyes quickly scanned the room, finally landing on Avendial, who was seated in the last row while several others occupied the front.

As she made her way toward him, she noticed men glancing her way but paid them no mind. With an air of grace, she settled into the seat next to Avendial, folding her hands and legs elegantly.

"It seems that Miss Aecilia has been managing pressure for quite some time now," Avendial remarked in a teasing tone, glancing at her as he fiddled with his phone. He leaned back slightly, clearly enjoying the moment.

"...Well, that might not be entirely true, Sir Marquess," Aecilia replied, her mouth twitching in an effort to suppress a smile.

She realized Avendial was playfully trying to embarrass her, especially given how close they were to those nearby who were clearly listening in, even if they had their backs turned toward the two of them.

"Hey, what's up with the way they're talking?"

"I'm not sure, but they seem to come from an influential society."

"Are they nobles?"

"But what could they possibly be doing in a city hospital?"

Before long, whispers rippled through the nearby individuals who were seated, each one trying to piece together the conversation.

Without turning their heads to look, they couldn't shake the feeling that it was highly unusual to hear such formal dialogue within the Free City, a place where the common man roamed.

Some began to speculate, forming their own theories, though these ideas were quickly dismissed by others.

After all, it was widely accepted that only noblemen could speak in such a refined manner.

For someone of that standing to be found in the Free City was indeed rare, given that nobles typically held too much pride to seek treatment in a city hospital when other, more prestigious facilities were available to them.

"Wait, what if they are here for an appointment with Doctor Etrinia?" one whispered.

"Hmm, that could be a possibility," another replied thoughtfully.

Unbeknownst to them, Avendial and Aecilia, seated behind the conversing group, were keenly listening to the murmurs.

They noticed how some individuals were beginning to draw conclusions about their noble status, while others remained skeptical.

However, when Doctor Etrinia's name came up, a shift occurred in the collective mindset.

Most began to accept the notion that a noble might indeed visit this hospital just for an appointment with that particular doctor.

As curiosity continued to swirl among the bystanders, Avendial exchanged a glance with Aecilia, who kept her gaze fixed in front.

The air was thick with speculation, and they both felt the weight of being at the center of it.

'Etrinia? Wasn't she...?' Avendial, seated behind, perked up at the mention of a name that sounded familiar.

A flicker of hope ignited within him; perhaps today he would finally get the chance to meet someone of value, someone with great potential, here in the hospital. A small smile crept onto his face.

'How troublesome...' Aecilia sighed, feeling frustrated as she overheard the chatter concerning her and Marquess.

Their recognition among the other patients surged, which was particularly bothersome for her. She knew that it wouldn't be long before these rumors spread throughout the hospital, complicating her efforts to manage the situation.

Driven by her annoyance, she resolved to contact the members of the Sertsul family to arrange for the entire hospital to be booked and to transfer the current patients to a more suitable facility, creating the needed space for her to operate.

"Hey, Aecilia, can you do me a favor?" Avendial's tone shifted as he spoke, dropping his honorifics. He reached out, placing one palm over her clasped hands resting on her folded knees. She was gazing straight ahead, but the moment he placed his hand there, she flinched.