Young Lissop strode into the study at South Town Manor and raised a hand to summon a manservant.
"Go fetch Sir Gold and Sir Leshid at once. Tell them I have something extremely important to discuss!"
Young Lissop spoke with a grave expression.
The manservant immediately set off.
Once the manservant had left, Young Lissop's breathing grew rapid.
A fierce headache tormented the lord's son.
"I did nothing wrong!
It wasn't me!
The loving father told me that the Death Poetry Society was to blame!"
Young Lissop braced himself against the desk, unable to stop himself from murmuring.
As he murmured, his headache rapidly subsided.
When he reaffirmed that the Death Poetry Society was responsible for everything, the pain vanished completely, leaving only a sense of relief that spread from within.
It was like the mental clarity that came after a full night's sleep.
More than that, it was a vitality that filled his entire body with drive.
"The Death Poetry Society!
You actually incited Hill and his son to assassinate Father and me!
Father died because of your vile schemes, but I survived-the loving father not only saved me, he guided me!
I'll make you pay!"
Young Lissop's eyes were bloodshot. He pounded the desk with his fist, snarling through clenched teeth.
Then the lord's son quickly calmed down.
He knew very well what sort of entity the Death Poetry Society was.
As he was now, he had no hope of facing it.
I have to arm myself!
I have to become stronger!
Young Lissop immediately walked over to the bookcase. He pulled out a book, reached inside, and pressed something.
Click!
With a crisp sound, the spring mechanism turned.
One side of the bookcase immediately slid slowly forward, revealing a gap large enough for one person to pass