The mayor's smile vanished entirely. "Tax records? Whatever for?"
"My father sent me to review them." Another lie, but a useful one. "The numbers reaching the capital don't quite match what should be coming from a town of this size."
"There must be some mistake," Crane spluttered. "All taxes are collected and processed according to Viscount Valtor's guidelines."
Damien raised an eyebrow. "Then you'll have no problem showing me the records."
The mayor shifted in his seat. "Those documents are quite extensive. It would take days to review them properly."
"I have two months before I leave for the Academy." Damien's hand idly stroked Sabrina's side, feeling her tremble with rage. "Plenty of time."
Crane tugged at his collar. "Of course, my lord. I'll have them prepared for you. But surely there are more pleasant ways to spend your exile?"
"Oh, I find this sort of thing fascinating." Damien squeezed Sabrina's waist, earning a small gasp. "Numbers tell such interesting stories."
'Like how much you've been stealing from my father,' he thought. 'And where that money's really going.'
The mayor's eyes kept darting between Damien's face and Sabrina's body.
"While we're on the subject of reports," Damien continued, "I've heard disturbing news about monster attacks and raiders near the eastern forest. Yet I don't recall seeing any official reports reaching the capital about these issues."
The mayor's face paled slightly. "Minor disturbances, hardly worth troubling your father with. We've handled them locally."
"Have you? Because the guard station seems woefully unprepared, and the eastern slums are filled with orphans whose parents died in these 'minor disturbances.'"
Mayor Crane leaned forward, lowering his voice. "My lord, these frontier towns always face challenges. Reporting every skirmish would only worry the capital unnecessarily."
"Or prompt them to send reinforcements," Damien countered. "Which would interfere with... whatever you have going on here."
The mayor's eyes widened. "I don't know what you're implying—"
"I'm not implying anything." Damien shifted Sabrina on his lap, making her squirm. "I'm stating facts. This town is falling apart while your office looks remarkably well-appointed. The clock tower doesn't work, but you have gold cufflinks. The guards lack proper equipment, but you drink imported brandy."
Crane's face reddened. "Now see here—"
"No, you see here." Damien's voice dropped to a dangerous purr. "I want those tax records on my desk by tomorrow morning. And I want reports on every monster attack and raider incident for the past three years."
"That's impossible! I can't possibly—"
"You can and you will." Damien's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Unless you'd prefer I send a bird to my father tonight explaining my... initial findings."
The threat hung in the air. Mayor Crane swallowed hard, his jowls quivering.
"As you wish, Lord Damien. I'll have everything delivered to Valtor Manor first thing tomorrow."
"Excellent." Damien began tracing small circles on Sabrina's hip with his thumb. She tried to shift away, but he held her firmly. "One more question, Mayor."
"Yes?"
"The eastern forest—what's in there? Beyond the monsters, I mean."
Crane blinked in surprise. "In there? Nothing of value. Just wilderness and danger."
"And yet the attacks have increased recently." Damien watched the mayor carefully. "Why do you think that is?"
"I... couldn't say. Nature is unpredictable."
'Lying,' Damien thought. 'But about what?'
"Then I suppose I'll have to find out for myself." Damien finally released Sabrina, allowing her to stand. "I plan to visit the Adventurer's Guild tomorrow to learn more about the local dungeon."
"The dungeon?" The mayor looked genuinely alarmed now. "My lord, that's no place for someone of your station! It's dangerous, filled with creatures that would—"
"Kill me?" Damien finished for him. "How concerned you are for my safety."
Crane's mouth opened and closed like a fish. "I merely meant—"
"I know what you meant." Damien rose from his chair. "Thank you for your time, Mayor. I look forward to receiving those records tomorrow."
He turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and one more thing."
"Yes?"
"If anything happens to delay those records—or if they appear incomplete—I'll be forced to conclude you're deliberately obstructing my investigation. My father would find that... problematic."
The threat wasn't subtle, but subtlety wasn't Damien's goal. Fear was.
"I understand perfectly, my lord."
"Good." Damien placed his hand on the small of Sabrina's back, guiding her toward the door. "Come, Sabrina. We have more of the town to explore."
As they left the administrative building, Sabrina remained silent, her body rigid with tension. Damien could feel the hatred radiating off her in waves.
"That went well, don't you think?" he asked once they were outside.
"If your goal was to make an enemy of the mayor, then yes." Her voice was cold and clipped.
"My goal was to put fear into a corrupt bureaucrat and gather information." Damien checked his status screen, visible only to him.
[Public Humiliation of Servant: +75 IP]
[Threatening Authority Figure: +100 IP]
[Generating Jealousy: +50 IP]
[Total: +225 IP]
'Not bad for fifteen minutes' work,' he thought.
[You're getting better at this, Master. But why the interest in the tax records?]
'Because money always tells the truth when people lie,' Damien thought back. 'And something's very wrong in this town.'
"Where to next, Young Master?" Sabrina asked, her tone making the honorific sound like a curse.
"The Adventurer's Guild. I want to meet this Kara person before tomorrow." Damien glanced at the sky. "Then perhaps lunch somewhere public."
"As you wish." Sabrina's hands smoothed her dress, trying to regain some dignity.
"Oh, and Sabrina?"
"Yes?"
Damien leaned close, his lips nearly brushing her ear. "Next time I put you on my lap, wear something with easier access. The mayor seemed disappointed he couldn't see more of you."
Her face flushed crimson with rage and humiliation. "I hate you."
"I know." Damien smiled. "That's what makes this so fun."
[Intimate Intimidation: +25 IP]
The points were adding up nicely. At this rate, he'd have enough to purchase his first real ability by the end of the week.
The weak body he'd inherited wouldn't stay weak for long.
'This villain business is easier than I thought,' Damien mused as they walked toward the Guild. 'Create fear, exploit weakness, accumulate power. Rinse and repeat.'