I personally beat the wife to death, but the tenant farmer, Balpa, was beheaded by the soldiers. Judging by how she refused to leave her husband's side, they seemed to have a good marriage. I hope their strong bond continues even in the afterlife.
The daughters were supposed to remain in the dungeon until the slave trader arrived. Of course, I needed someone to talk to, so I placed Ira in the adjacent cell.
Ira's acting skills were truly exceptional, perfectly embodying the essence of a madwoman. I wondered if she only acted this way when I visited. The daughters, unaware that I'd butchered their parents and planned to sell them into slavery, pleaded to be moved to another room.
"What's wrong with that woman? She's terrifying! Please, move us somewhere else—anywhere but next to her!"
As the daughters wailed, Ira, seemingly delighted by my presence, intensified her manic performance.
"Kkirrek! Kkieeeek! Kyaaaah!"
If I didn't have access to her status window, I'd have believed she was genuinely insane and sold her to a brothel. Her stats were still intact, confirming she was merely acting like a madwoman.
A few days later, the slave trader arrived to appraise the daughters. Robin wasn't involved, and the trader was an outsider. After confirming we were alone in the dungeon, I whispered,
"Does cutting their tendons lower their price?"
"Not significantly, since female slaves are usually sold to brothels. With their decent looks and figures, they might even fetch a higher price."
"Then it's no issue. Cut them."
I wanted to ensure they'd never escape and live comfortably. What did I care where the trader sold them? Robin and Siery would only care that they were alive, not what happened afterward.
I didn't need to know every detail of their fate. If they were later found in a brothel, I'd simply deny any involvement.
Using a technician brought by the trader, the tenant farmer's daughters had their tendons severed, leaving them permanently disabled. With no chance of natural recovery, their escape was impossible.
"Why not cut out their tongues too? To prevent them from talking nonsense."
"Mute slaves fetch a lower price."
"I'll sell them cheaper. Just do it."
Money wasn't the goal. As the technician approached with tools, the daughters, already powerless, began convulsing wildly. Gagged, their curses were inaudible, but they were undoubtedly directed at me.
Ira, in the adjacent cell, abandoned her act, mouth agape at the scene. Struggling with the girl's resistance, the technician was slapped across the face by me. Her jaw dislocated with a loud crack. The trader grimaced.
"Her jaw's dislocated."
"Can it be fixed?"
"Once dislocated, it'll happen repeatedly. Such defects lower the price."
Grabbing the other girl by her hair, I whispered,
"See that? If you resist, I'll knock out all your teeth."
The remaining girl opened her mouth willingly, eyes squeezed shut.
Another scream echoed. Ira trembled, clutching the bars. The trader, having packed the girls' wounds with styptic, gestured at Ira.
"Are you selling her too? I'll pay double her original value combined with the others."
Ira shook her head vigorously, retreating to the corner. Had she given up her act? I shook my head.
"No, I still have use for her."
"Understood. You have excellent taste."
The trader nodded, binding the daughters with the technician's help. Exhausted, the girls breathed heavily, their eyes vacant. I instructed the trader,
"Sell them anywhere but the southern region."
"Understood. Farewell."
With the trader gone, only Ira and I remained. As soon as he left, Ira resumed her screams.
"Kkiruk... Kkieeeek!"
How do I break this habit?
As the saying goes, 'Spare the rod, spoil the child.' After confiscating a tenant farmer's property and punishing him, another arrived the next day with four cartloads of taxes. Each subsequent farmer followed suit, as if they'd coordinated.
Compared to the first farmer who tried to cheat me, this was several times the amount.
Standing before them, I twirled my mace. The farmers watched, hypnotized, knowing this weapon had ended Balpa's life. They understood: if I grew displeased, they'd meet the same fate.
"You've worked hard. I wonder if you've heard the sad news about Kilde... Balpa cheating me. I don't intend to monitor your harvests. That would betray our trust, right?"
"Yes, yes, it would!"
"Absolutely!"
They answered loudly, aware of the consequences of failure. Balpa's bloodstain still marked the spot where he died. I stepped on it deliberately.
"So, I hope you'll remain honest with your taxes. No need for complications. As long as I do my job, I won't bother you."
This wasn't me pretending to be virtuous. Under Lucius's rule, the estate functioned well, aside from these tax-evading tenants. The people weren't burdened by heavy taxes, and security was stable.
Bandits lurked near the estate's borders, but even they feared Lucius.
There's a saying: *Xiaogui Caosui* (萧规曹随). In ancient China, after Chancellor Xiao He's death, Cao Shen succeeded him. Though Cao Shen often drank and played, when questioned, he replied,
"Xiao He already established everything. Why should I change it?"
True to his word, the country thrived under Cao Shen's inaction, earning him a reputation as a wise chancellor. If something works, there's no need to fix it.
Except for these tax-evading scoundrels.
"Understood!"
"We'll remember!"
And now, these scoundrels trembled before me. Replacing dead tenants was tedious, and new ones might also hoard grain.
These tenants were already prosperous, so a single warning kept them in line. Those who've tasted wealth cling to it. Having farmed this land for years, they knew efficient routines. Keeping them alive and taxing them boosted my image and reduced my workload.
"You may go."
I dismissed them without inspection. The carts, enough to fill the warehouse, lined the courtyard. I ordered servants and soldiers to unload the sacks. Seeing the full warehouse, I felt content.
Now, Ira's fate remained. Her incessant screaming and feigned madness were growing worse. If left unchecked, she'd truly lose her mind, and I'd get nothing for her.
Why act quickly?
**Name:** Ira
**Occupation:** Fraudster
**Affinity:** 0
**Level:** 6
**Stats:**
- Strength: 3
- Agility: 7
- Intelligence: 4
- Luck: 0
**Traits:**
- **Acting:** Can pretend to be another profession.
**Currently Acting As:** Madwoman
- **Method Acting:** Fully immersed in her role, blurring reality. Shows unintended erratic behavior. Original traits deactivated; intelligence reduced.
- **Imprisonment:** Currently restrained and confined. Stats penalized.
She was genuinely losing her mind. Days ago, her eyes still held clarity, but now she grinned maniacally, then screamed in shock at her own actions. If she fully snapped, she'd be worthless. I couldn't let my investment in her go to waste.
I took Siery to the dungeon. She clung to me, frightened by the damp, eerie atmosphere. Her scent calmed me.
"My lord, where are we?"
"This is a hellish place for the guilty. They reflect on their sins here."
Ira, thinking I'd brought Siery to mock her, shrieked and pounded the bars more furiously. She looked like a rampaging chimpanzee in a zoo. Siery, startled, stepped back. I supported her, pointing at Ira.
"See? This criminal is here for trying to rob the estate's warehouse."
"My lord... she's terrifying."
"Kkieeeek! Kyaaaah!"
Siery clung to me, prompting Ira's frantic screams. A person consumed by rage is always ugly. Her cries were no longer an act but genuine. I stroked Siery's head. She asked,
"My lord, she seems too mad to understand her crimes. Can't we release her?"
"You're naive, Siery. She's only pretending madness to escape punishment."
"Kyaaaaaaaah! Kyaaaah!"