Damn, I recarneted As A Judge in Fantasy World

Martin let out a low groan.

In fact, he had long since erased any memories related to this person.

Wasn't this the best job where he could keep his back warm, his stomach full, and even draw a picture of the future? His coworkers were all kind and good people.

Would he throw away this great fortune and become Cosette's assistant?

'That's crazy.'

What idiot in the world would make such a choice? But when he met the other person's gaze, a chill ran down his spine.

Cosette was smiling brightly as if he knew everything. Words befitting the mean smile flowed from his lips.

"I wonder if you've heard much about your hometown. There are a lot of people who want to work as tenant farmers these days, so the competition for space is fierce. How are your parents?"

At first glance, it sounded like a normal conversation. But why did he bring up the story of the County of Arsno and his parents as soon as he saw him? Of course, this was a subtle threat.

'If you don't cooperate, your parents will lose their livelihood.'

Moreover, they wouldn't just be kicked out of their tenant farms—something much more severe would happen.

Martin's heart shook relentlessly, like the great bell in the central tower that tolled the time.

'Damn, what do I do?'

The faces of his parents and younger siblings back home came to mind. If Count Arsno wanted to, they were nothing more than fleeting lives that could be swept away in an instant.

If you fear destruction, you have to choose.

To whom will you be loyal?

"Why is there no answer?"

The corners of Cosette's mouth went up as if they were about to burst. It seemed that he had noticed his wavering feelings.

The conflict continued for quite some time.

However, as time passed, Martin's face became more composed. The peace he regained began with this very thought.

'Will that really happen?'

Would a big shot like Count Arsno really be so obsessed with one style of clothing?

It was certain that this whole thing was planned by Cosette. But what kind of grand conspiracy could a mere tailor hatch?

Maybe it was because he had studied hard while attending night school, but his head was spinning.

'Besides, if it comes down to it, I can support them.'

Martin's current salary was 15 shillings. It was on par with the skills of some of the most skilled technicians in the imperial capital.

It could even be considered better, as it provided excellent accommodations and meals.

Even if he worked hard on the farm all year long, the money he earned was only a few silver coins.

In that case, it would be better to bring the whole family here. At Medias, he could also teach his younger siblings how to read and write.

'Of course, all of this is only possible with His Highness the Duke of Carriers's permission.'

Would he really accept a bunch of lowly rural worms?

Anyway, since all the workers wanted to come in, it was a chaotic situation.

'If it doesn't work out, that's okay. I can just take it somewhere else.'

Wherever they went, life would be much better than in the County of Arsno.

Martin was thankful that his parents were not serfs. If that were the case, he wouldn't have even considered leaving the territory.

Then he looked at Cosette with fierce eyes.

"Do you think that kind of threat will work?"

"What?"

"You think I might lose my job as a tenant farmer? Then I'll just leave."

"Are you now going to betray the favor of Count Arsno?"

"I never received it in the first place, so what are you talking about? And please be careful what you say."

"Ha! This guy has finally lost it."

"Don't do this or that. I'm not your apprentice tailor anymore."

"Heh! You?"

Cosette burst out laughing, as if taken aback. Then he expression hardened, and he glared at him with gloomy eyes.

"Show me what I can do..."

"That's enough. What can a mere tailor do?"

Cosette was at a loss for words.

If you think about it, isn't that true?

A tailor is just someone who makes clothes. He was not a man of high status. There was no reason for nobles to rely on him to make their clothes.

"Don't come back again. And I'll tell you one thing."

"Is it worth listening to?"

"It would probably help tremendously."

"Then say it."

Martin took a breath, gritted his teeth, and growled.

"Coming here made me realize that Cosette's skills as a tailor were truly poor."

"This is crazy!"

"I've said everything I wanted to say. Goodbye."

Martin jumped up from his seat and ran straight out.

Cosette, left alone in the drawing room, kicked the chair and grumbled.

"You dare betray me? We'll see. You piece of trash."

A torrent of curses poured out. Cosette turned away with a sinister look in her eyes.

But he couldn't move his body.

It was because of the sharp blade hanging before his eyes.

"Huh, huh!"

He gasped in surprise, and suddenly a hard voice was heard.

"You are being hasty. The conversation is not over yet."

"Who are you? And what are you talking about?"

"You will need to recount the details of what you just discussed with Mr. Martin, in front of His Highness the Duke of Carriers."

The figure who suddenly appeared from the shadows was none other than Cordell McNeil.

Cosette's face turned pale—pale as white paper.

* * *

I had noticed Martin's strange behavior a while ago.

I took a closer look through the employee management window. I accepted him because of his skills as a designer, but the words "espionage" and "evil deeds" appeared at the beginning. Of course, those words changed quickly.

'By the way, that's surprising. That ge made that choice.'

I had heard stories that people regard the Duchy of Carriers as some kind of heaven. It is such an incredibly nice place to live.

Moreover, it was even more valuable because not just anyone could enter. It must have had a big influence on Martin's choice. Now that I'm a person with a lot to lose.

"So what is he?"

"He was the one trying to extract information from Midias and use it for something."

"Even if Mr. Martin knows, it wouldn't be a big deal, right?"

"It seems like they were trying to copy His Majesty's party style."

"Yes?"

No, what kind of stupid attempt is this? In the first place, I don't even attend parties, let alone host them.

As I looked at him with an expression that said I didn't understand, Cordell McNeil continued to explain.

"I guess he was planning to show Count Arsuru something in His Highness's style."

"What is the reason for that?"

"Cosette will gain trust, and the Count of Arsenault will gain popularity in high society."

"He planted a spy for just that reason?"

"There are many other benefits as well. If he get this information, it will be useful to him someday."

"Then...."

I trailed off. In the end, the outcome of this incident will be like this.

'Count Asrno planted a spy in the Carriers Duchy.'

It was quite a provocative issue and one that could have easily escalated into a major problem.

Of course, if i don't make an issue of it, it will be covered up without anyone knowing. As if he had anticipated the words I would swallow, Cordell immediately shook his head.

"Count Asrno didn't seem to be involved. The operation was too sloppy for someone of his stature to have ordered it."

"Is this the sole action of Cosette?"

"I found out through various sources that he was not a very important person. Of course, I will have to look into it further to find out the exact details."

Count Asrno was a representative imperialist nobleman. Even though I'm the kind of person who can handle anything regardless of party affiliation, I didn't want to clash over something like this.

Besides, Martin ended up not being a spy.

"I haven't been harmed, so let's just move on."

"Still, we must punish that Cosette. And let Count Arsenault know."

"I'll take care of that."

Since we're not that far apart, I think it would be better to resolve this through dialogue rather than conflict. I nodded readily to Cordell McNeill's suggestion. However, one question still remains.

"I have a question."

"Ask me anything."

"I don't have a specific party style in mind, but let's just say there is one."

"Yes."

"How can you become popular by trying that first?"

Didn't they say that the completion of fashion is the face?

If your appearance is not good, then whatever you wear is meaningless.

Oh, of course, I wasn't secretly criticizing Count Asrno. He's a pretty decent middle-aged man. I'm just purely curious. Then Cordell McNeil smiled meaningfully.

"Your Majesty, you still don't know."

"What?"

"How popular are you in Imperial society."

"Yes?"