Damn, I recarneted As A Judge in Fantasy World Chapter 214 The Duke's Strategy

"I never dread that such an elaborate conspiracy could be woven into the fabric!" Count Caldwell exclaid, his shock evident.

Abel nodded. "It seems he did this because he sensed the Emperor's displeasure when waging a war of attrition."

"Should we bring a lawsuit?" Caldwell asked, hope flickering in his tone.

"There's not enough evidence for that," Abel replied, his tone pragmatic. "All we have is a single warlock."

"Then what should we do?"

"There might be a spy. Let's block the gate and wait. Send troops to other places as well, in case they notice."

"Will we be able to find it then?"

"There must be so who try to pass through the forest secretly."

"Huh! There were rumors that you were smart, but it turns out they were all lies. Your Highness the Duke is a genius!"

"Uh… well, not to that extent."

Abel waved his hand at the excessive praise, though Count Caldwell's flattery was relentless. If things continued like this, his ears might lt from the overwhelming sugar coating. He seized an opportune mont to interrupt the conversation and sent Count Caldwell away.

Then Cordell McNeil approached Abel and spoke to him.

"Are we done? Should we go back to the capital now?"

"We haven't even secured the food supplies yet."

"Don't worry about that. I've got plenty."

It seed they had incited people to buy food supplies they'd hidden away, bringing the crowd here in droves.

Abel had to admit—this was truly resourceful.

But leaving imdiately wasn't an option.

"You kept nagging at , so let's do it right this ti."

"What's going on all of a sudden?"

"It's perfect for Sir McNeil. Information gathering."

"Oh? If that's the case, it's not that difficult. Where can I do it?"

"You see that forest to the south? We need to catch those trying to head to McCartney's Earldom."

It was written as "information gathering" but read as "undercover work." Abel's smile turned aningful, and Cordell McNeil's face gradually fell.

"Can I not do it?"

"Then I'll assign it to Lady Alice Saltrey. She seems to have taken quite a liking to you, Lord McNeil."

"I'll carry out the mission imdiately!"

Cordell dashed off toward the southern forest. It seed he would rather brave the unknown than be trapped in what he called "the bread hell of the night."

---

As it turned out, there really was a spy trying to cross into McCartney's Earldom.

Astonishingly, Cordell McNeil managed to capture over thirty spies in one night. They were all sent to the Capital Prosecutor's Office, along with the warlock...

"Our family survived thanks to His Highness the Duke. Ugh!"

Count Caldwell grasped Abel's hand tightly, tears streaming down his face as if he were ready to give him his very liver and gallbladder.

Abel patted Caldwell's shoulder and said,

"Please govern your land well as a gesture of gratitude. Haven't the people suffered from excessive taxes?"

"Of course! I will follow Your Majesty's example and lead righteously!"

"Even if things are difficult now, they'll improve soon. Now that the conspiracy has been revealed, Earl McCartney will be obligated to compensate appropriately."

"Thank you. If I had daughters, I would give you ten of them."

"Huh! What are you talking about? I absolutely detest political marriages."

"As expected, you're truly romantic. By the way, I also married for love. Hehehe!"

Apparently, he had been quite the loving husband, alternating between heartfelt tears and sudden laughter.

Abel left the estate, escorted by the Earl of Caldwell and the residents.

Of course, this case would probably end up being assigned to him as well. Technically, he shouldn't be in charge of it, even though he was remotely connected to the case.

After all, it was a count's dispute—no judge would dare touch it.

In the end, it was sothing he had no choice but to handle, so he would put extra effort into ensuring a fair judgnt.

"We have arrived, Your Highness the Duke."

"Oh, thank you for your hard work, Uncle Brandon."

"Haha! It's been a long journey."

"We'll give you a generous amount of travel expenses. Go in and get so rest."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

After greeting the coachman, Abel stopped by his office before even unpacking his luggage.

With work piling up during his absence, he expected a daunting workload.

As anticipated, two docunts imdiately caught his eye. However, it seed like there was significantly less paperwork than usual.

"Ah! Now, Vice President Xavier handles it?"

Thanks to the delegation of work to the multi-panel group, his responsibilities were reduced. He was now mainly focused on crucial decisions, like the company's strategic direction.

"This is serious."

He examined the two papers on his desk—one was a report on the soap business, and the other detailed plans for the water supply, sewerage, and garbage services.

Sarak! Sarak!

As expected, solid soap was selling like crazy.

"Oh! The second production batch is already sold out?"

He had only been away for a little over a month. Perhaps because it was full-blown spring, the demand for soap had skyrocketed. The empire's climate, with its four distinct seasons, would bring even hotter weather in sumr.

If demand was this high now, more people would surely be clamoring for soap as the temperature rose.

"It's still not exactly cheap, but the demand is amazing."

Cordell McNeil, who had been discreetly peeking at the docunts, looked genuinely surprised.

Abel thought he was only interested in won, so his reaction was unexpected.

When Abel gave him a puzzled look, Cordell shrugged slightly.

"From what I saw of Caldwell Castle, it seems to be popular among won. That's why I know."

"Huh! When did you manage to sneak in and co back?"

"When His Majesty was busy dealing with the carp riots, I gathered people to visit the castle and greet them. The countess was a very beautiful woman."

"Huh? Was that statent a bit dangerous?"

"Hey! Why would I be interested in soone with a husband? Unless… does she happen to have a pretty daughter?"

Abel shook his head. Even in the midst of serious affairs, Cordell was always on the lookout for romance. True to form, he was indeed a hopeless romantic.

Fortunately, there was no eligible young lady in the Caldwell family. Otherwise, this royal "special-guard" womanizer might have caused an unwanted scandal.

As for the soap business, it was thriving. The luxury strategy was clearly working wonders—demand was outstripping supply. Among the nobility, nothing satisfied vanity quite like a mark of exclusivity.

The lavender-scented soap, particularly the limited purple edition, had beco wildly popular. So custors even placed reservations, begging for a chance to purchase it.

With everything progressing so smoothly in his absence, Abel felt he could sit back and enjoy the fruits of his planning.

"Your Highness?"

As he set the papers aside and relaxed in his chair, Cordell McNeil addressed him. The ominous tone triggered an automatic, curt response.

"What?"

"Here's one more letter."

"Where is it from?"

"It's from the court."

"..."

Apparently, a mountain of difficult cases had accumulated during his ti away, including the carp riot incident, which was expected to be assigned to him.

Abel sighed as he held the letter.

"Can't they just cut a break and copy the funds, please?"