Don’t raise unruly people in extreme cold weather

Chapter 845

Perfect's sharp eyes swept across everyone's faces, and she knew clearly that someone was not telling the truth.

After all, if everyone was telling the truth, how did the poison get into the soup? It couldn't be that the soup was boiled for too long and turned into poison out of thin air, right?
She carefully sorted out everyone's statements and temporarily ruled out the possibility that the chef had poisoned the food.

This is a very simple judgment - if the chef really wanted to poison her, he could have put the poison in a dish that she particularly liked and made sure she would finish it. In this way, even if the poison took effect, it would be difficult for investigators to pinpoint which specific dish was problematic.

In contrast, putting the poison in the beef bone broth undoubtedly left a huge flaw.

Broth is used as a condiment in such a wide range of applications that once it is found to be poisonous, it would be easy to identify the poison as being in the soup pot.

This method of poisoning was too obvious and was totally unlike what an experienced chef would do.

Perfecto tapped her fingers on the table, and this judgment led her to turn the focus of her investigation to other people who had access to the soup pot.

Although the chef was temporarily cleared of suspicion, others were not so lucky.

Especially those who have the opportunity to get close to the soup pot after the cook has tasted the soup, each one is worth investigating.

But Perfect did not immediately launch a detailed investigation, or perhaps she did not have the patience to eliminate suspicion from innocent people one by one.

For her, rather than finding out who specifically poisoned her, she was more eager to know the deeper motives behind it - why did someone dare to poison her? Is there a bigger conspiracy behind this? Does the poisoner have accomplices lurking in the dark?

Thinking of this, her sharp eyes swept across the trembling people in front of her like a knife, and her voice was cold and majestic: "I will give you one last chance. Come forward and confess yourself. Maybe I can let you suffer less."

The room fell into deathly silence, with only the sound of nervous breathing coming and going.

Everyone lowered their heads, fear and anxiety written all over their faces, but still no one opened their mouth to admit it.

Some people secretly wiped the cold sweat from their foreheads with their sleeves, some tightly grasped the corners of their clothes, and some glanced around with uncertain eyes, but no one stood up.

"Well, since no one has spoken, then..." Perfecto narrowed his eyes and was about to order everyone to be listed as suspects and tortured.

However, before she could finish her words, an agent suddenly hurried through the crowd, walked quickly to her side, leaned over and whispered something in her ear.

Perfect nodded slightly, her fingertips gently stroking the delicate carvings on the armrests of the chair. Her eyes slowly swept across everyone's faces, and an elusive emotion flashed in her heterochromatic eyes.

"Take the chef away." Her voice was soft but unquestionable: "He was not the one who poisoned me."

She paused, and a faint arc appeared at the corner of her lips: "A chef who truly loves food will not desecrate his own work in this way. That is a taint to the art of cooking."

Upon hearing this, the chef's wrinkled face suddenly burst into tears.

He trembled and wanted to kneel down to express his gratitude, but was led out by the guards holding his arm.

Perfecto's eyes never left the remaining people, and her slender fingers tapped the table rhythmically. "I'll give you one last chance." Her voice suddenly turned cold, as chilling as an icy blade: "Take the initiative to confess and reveal your accomplices, and I can consider giving you a lighter sentence."

She stood up slowly and swept her cold eyes over everyone left in front of her.

“Otherwise.” She deliberately dragged out the tone: “All the mines in Marcel will be cleansed, and none of your accomplices will escape.”

In the corner of the room, a thin figure unconsciously tensed his back.

His Adam's apple rolled up and down, cold sweat slid down his temples, mine...how could she...this thought was like a poisonous snake entwining his heart.

But at this moment, asking him to confess voluntarily would undoubtedly send his companions to the knife of Perfectoct.

So even though he knew that this would implicate innocent people, he could only grit his teeth.

In fact, what the agent had just told Perfect was the urgent news of a miners' riot in the Marcel mine area. These rioting miners occupied the depths of the mine and were confronting the local security forces.

However, the agent only stated the facts objectively when reporting, and did not mention any connection between the miners in the mine and the assassination of Perfectcot. All this was just Perfectcot's own conclusion based on the current situation. She keenly linked the two events together and believed that it was very likely that they were done by the same group of people.

She had originally wanted to use this news to test the reactions of those present, to see if anyone would be unable to withstand the pressure and reveal flaws. But now it seems that the poisoner has a pretty good psychological quality, and everyone present has maintained a calm expression.

However, this also made her lose her last bit of patience, and a hint of cruelty flashed in her cold eyes. She no longer planned to use this "affectionate" and gentle way of interrogation, and decided to take a more direct approach.

Perfect's order swept through the room like a cold winter current, and the air seemed to freeze at that moment. Her voice was not loud, but it was like a sharp ice spike piercing everyone's eardrum, making people unconsciously tense their backs.

"Take them away and torture them until they speak." She spoke word by word, each syllable carrying a suffocating sense of oppression. Her eyes were cold and sharp, sweeping over the shivering kitchen staff, as if she was examining a group of lambs to be slaughtered.

Before she finished speaking, she turned to the adjutant beside her and said in a sharp tone: "Immediately inform the local garrison in Marcel to suppress all acts of resistance! If there is resistance--" She paused slightly, and a cruel arc appeared at the corner of her mouth, "Kill without mercy!"

The murderous intent in these words made everyone present shudder. The adjutant's back was already soaked with cold sweat, but he did not dare to hesitate for a moment and immediately bowed his head to accept the order: "Yes, Regent!" Then he turned around and strode away, the sound of his boots stepping on the floor as heavy as a death knell.

Perfecto's eyes swept across the room like an icy blade, and his fingertips tapped lightly on the gilded handrail.

The crisp sound echoed in the silent meeting room, like the sound of a gavel at a trial.

Following the slight sound, the guards immediately stepped forward and roughly grabbed the kitchen staff with pale faces.

A cook staggered and fell, but was dragged away mercilessly by the guards. The hem of her skirt made a harsh sound as it rubbed against the floor, and her fingertips dug into the carpet tightly, but to no avail.

Suppressed sobs echoed in the corridor, but were quickly blocked out by the heavy doors, as if those desperate sobs had never existed.

(End of this chapter)