Chapter 641: Understanding the Art of Reconnaissance

So they came looking for trouble…

After hearing Lyon's aggressive question, the female reporter's taut spine subtly relaxed.

Good! Bring it on! Just don't come here with people to arrest me!

"Mr. Lyon… no, His Grace the Duke of Lionheart, soon to be wed into the royal family! You seem to have a slight misunderstanding about me."

After steadying herself, the female reporter smiled sweetly.

"First, I wrote only seven articles about you, not eight.

Second, suppose you were the reporter for the Sun Newspaper and discovered the same stories I did—wouldn't you have written a few pieces too?"

Of course I would—and I'd write more than you did.

Hearing her retort, Lyon's expression flickered with embarrassment; he realized he'd indeed stirred up trouble too often, and being watched by reporters was only natural.

But fortunately, that wasn't the point—his real goal wasn't to confront her over news reports, but to probe the background of this "Reporter Nicole," suspected of being a rebel.

…

"Fine, I admit my recent activities made excellent news topics."

Wool cap, high-collared shirt, professional skirt, small leather shoes, thick shawl… her clothing covered her completely, revealing no skin except her fingertips, painted pale pink.

Strange—the Sun Newspaper's walls were lined with metal heating pipes; the indoor temperature wasn't low at all. Why wear so much?

As Lyon carefully observed the female reporter, he glared with feigned indignation:

"But every single one of your articles said nothing good about me—some were outright lies!"

"You're exaggerating~"

The reporter shook her head, studying her "opponent" as she smiled and pointed a finger at the newspaper on the desk.

"Though many consider the Sun Newspaper merely an entertainment paper—even its political and business reports often chase rumors—I personally value journalistic truth above all.

In the articles about you, whenever I lacked certainty, I never made definitive claims; I used phrases like 'suspected,' 'possible,' or 'according to my speculation.' Isn't that right?"

Her hands were extremely pale, with skin so smooth it seemed to glisten, as if dewy and ready to burst.

Without immediately answering her question, Lyon pretended to read the newspaper, but his eyes lingered on her handback—and narrowed slightly.

This skin quality was too perfect.

Winter had arrived; the capital's winters were cold and dry, and the wind outside the Sun Newspaper's entrance was fierce. Even with the best skin, she should've shown slight dehydration after coming in from outside.

This unnatural dewy glow shouldn't appear today… Considering her identity as a possessor of anomalies, her hands likely had some special "issue." Later, I'll find a chance to shake her hand—see if it's an anomaly artifact.

"Alright, I admit you have a point."

Lyon pulled his gaze from the "newspaper," his expression softening slightly, then took an older edition from his shopping bag and placed it on the desk.

"Was the 'Fecal Water' Incident Intentional? Thomas Lane: Evidence Forged"

"Reporter Nicole, you wrote this article, didn't you?"

This… was the one where the Lane family, allied with two other noble houses, deliberately had the water company pump feces into the public pipes to seize Char Department Store?

I remember handing the evidence I found directly to the Royal Justice Minister; though the Lanes denied everything, they still faced a strict investigation led by the Princess, fined nearly 300,000 gold wheels, and forced to sell their water company at a steep discount.

So… all the earlier stuff was a cover. The real reason this new Duke of Lionheart came to pick a fight was this article that crippled the Lanes?

Recognizing the newspaper Lyon produced, the reporter frowned, then looked at the new head of the Lane family and nodded expressionlessly.

"Yes, I wrote it. Do you have questions about this article?"

"I do have questions."

As Lyon pondered where the "sheep's tail" Black Goat mentioned might be, he narrowed his eyes:

"The biggest issue is the evidence—where exactly did your evidence come from?" "Mr. Lyon, if you'd read the article carefully, you'd know I clearly stated the source of the evidence."

Uncomfortable under Lyon's overly "sharp" gaze, the reporter frowned:

"When Char Department Store's cash box collapsed and injured people, I rushed there for an interview and happened to pick up those pieces of evidence on the plaza… Whether you believe me or not, these are facts!"

"I believe you. Of course I do."

Lyon nodded, then said expressionlessly:

"But have you ever considered why such crucial evidence would appear out of nowhere—and just happen to be found by you? Could someone have deliberately placed it there?"

"So you're accusing me of taking money to smear the Lanes?"

Understanding the new Duke's implication, the reporter's tone turned sharp; she crossed her legs, leaned back, and smirked, her small leather shoe raised:

"Your Grace, first—do you really not know whether the water company data was true or false? If you're unaware of such critical facts, I suggest you investigate yourself. At least, according to my findings, the Kingdom's punishment of your Lane family was even lenient.

And if you believe my reporting harmed your family, go complain to the Sun Newspaper's dispute resolution department, then sue me at the News Administration Bureau… There, exit right, down the stairs."

She gestured toward the dispute resolution office, then sat upright, feigning fear, blinking innocently:

"Your Grace, though your Lane family is nearly finished, you're still beyond the reach of a lowly reporter like me. If you sue, I'll gladly confess and pay the maximum defamation penalty—I recall it's… thirty silver wheels?"

Wow—thirty silver wheels! Just multiply that by a hundred thousand, and it'd cover your family's fine. That penalty's enormous—I, this reckless little reporter, have learned my lesson. Please, spare me!"

"…"

Top-tier provocation. This woman's clearly a master of manipulation.

Watching the reporter beg for mercy while openly taunting him, Lyon fell silent—then picked up the stack of old newspapers the guide had given him.

Under the reporter's puzzled gaze, Lyon flipped to "Char Department Store Mega Sale: Man Crushed by 'Fortune' and Hospitalized," pointed to his own back, buried under piles of cash, then turned his body away and asked:

"Miss Nicole, doesn't this man look familiar?"

"…"

Looking at Lyon's back, then at the identical old coat in the photo, the reporter's eyes widened in shock.

"That… the poor guy almost crushed by money… was you?"

"Yes, it was me. So you did write eight articles about me in this period—seven appeared in the Sun's political/business section, this one in the mass entertainment section. And…"

Turning back to face the stunned reporter, Lyon spoke slowly:

"The evidence you found—I was the one who placed it at the plaza. I intended to force Char's owner to expose the fecal water scheme, but… I ended up in the hospital by accident, and the evidence was left behind on the plaza. You found it when you went to cover the story."

"…"

"…"

Staring at Lyon, who showed no sign of deception, the reporter froze, then stammered:

"Then… you came here to…"

"I came to thank you."

Grabbing the reporter's unnaturally pale, smooth hand, Lyon shook it vigorously, then beamed with radiant warmth:

"Thank you—you've helped me immensely!"

"…"

(End of Chapter)