Chapter 2582: Dear Detective Mr. 34

Alric stepped down from the carriage, adjusted his coat's collar, trying to appear as calm and composed as usual, but the irritation wouldn't fade.

The newly appointed butler looked much younger than his predecessor Edgar and far more cautious; he respectfully ushered him inside.

Alric asked whether Cyril was at Zhuang Yuan; the butler immediately replied, "Yes, Mr. Cyril arrived early this morning and is currently talking in Young Master John's Study."

Study?

What matter is so mysterious and urgent that they must shut the door and discuss it in the Study?

Alric snorted coldly in his heart, muttering sourly.

He followed the butler upstairs, then was awkwardly bowed by the servant guarding outside the Study, who said the Young Master had ordered that no one—be it the Count or any other guest—could enter until he and Inspector Cyril finished their talk.

Alric: "……"

This servant was merely a middling male attendant, utterly inflexible, obeying whatever the master said without question, and never thought to give a heads‑up.

Alric could only wait in the reception room beside the main hall.

Every second felt extraordinarily long.

Finally, he heard footsteps coming from upstairs.

Alric immediately stood up, but forced himself to sit down again, picking up the old newspaper at hand.

First to come down was John Orga.

His complexion was a bit better than a few days ago, still deathly pale, but the gloom and pain in his eyes had lessened somewhat, and he seemed more relieved.

Obviously, the discussion concerning Vincent's death inevitably stirred many of his memories and emotions.

Immediately after, Jin Chen came down as well, his expression normal, seeing Alric seated in the reception room he was somewhat surprised.

Alric had his back to them, his silhouette inexplicably…

Jin Chen hissed, inexplicably detecting a hint of sourness.

Jin Chen was about to approach, but worried Alric was still angry; fortunately John noticed nothing.

John greeted Alric and invited them to stay for lunch.

Jin Chen thought it over; it would be a good chance to have more contact with Julian, so he agreed.

Seated on the sofa, Alric: "……"

Does Cyril think he's dead!

Just a moment ago it was only sourness, but now Alric is practically a walking vinegar jar.

Alric's wrist twitched; the cup of hot tea in his hand spilled out, the dark‑red liquid splashing across half of his shirt collar and the knees of his trousers, instantly spreading dark, embarrassing stains.

"Sorry." Alric rose to his feet, his movement slightly abrupt.

He maintained an almost perfect gentlemanly demeanor on his face, giving a slight nod to the startled John Orga, "Excuse me, I need to use the changing room."

John: "Oh… okay."

Alric directly reached out, grabbed Jin Chen's wrist, half‑forcibly pulling him along, then turned and hurried toward the guest changing room on the other side of the corridor.

John Orga stood where he was, glancing doubtfully at the tea cup on the table and the water traces beside it.

Was Inspector Alric just that nervous? How did he manage to spill so badly?

This really isn't the style of that detective famed for calm elegance.

The door of the guest changing room was shut by Alric with a backhand, and a brass bolt slid into place.

Jin Chen hadn't even steadied himself when he was shoved, his back slamming hard into the wooden door with a dull thud.

Alric dropped the composed gentlemanly façade he showed in public, bracing his arms on either side of Jin Chen's body and trapping him firmly in his embrace.

He lowered his head slightly, his green eyes locked on Jin Chen, his breathing a little ragged, his tone betraying undisguised sourness and questioning.

"Why did you come running to Orga Zhuang Yuan first thing this morning… what do you want from him?"

Jin Chen's back pressed against the cold door panel, while Alric's warm‑emitting body was before him.

He blinked, then naturally reached out and steadied Alric's lean waist.

With that support, Jin Chen felt again that Alric's suit today was cut slimmer than usual, the broad‑shouldered, narrow‑waisted feel all the more pronounced.

Just… very easy to hold.

Just now, after throwing him against the wall, Alric likewise pulled open his shirt, the tea‑stained collar flung open to reveal his collarbone and the faint outline of the muscles beneath.

Jin Chen's gaze lingered for a moment; faced with such a sight, it was hard to remain chaste and unmoved.

He lifted his eyes again, meeting Alric's green gaze, and answered obediently, "I came to talk about Vincent's case."

"The case is already closed!" Alric's voice dropped, furious, "The culprit you caught is Joshua Clay, now locked in the lowest level of the courthouse prison awaiting trial—what more do you need to confirm with John Orga?"

He stepped closer, the distance between them reduced to nose‑to‑nose.

Jin Chen felt his warm breath, "According to the current evidence, the dosage of poison Joshua administered is not enough to have directly killed Vincent that night."

He patiently explained, "There might still be…"

"So for the investigation you didn't come to me," Alric interrupted, raising a hand and gripping Jin Chen's chin with some force, his jealousy nearly spilling over, "instead you went to ask him? Hmm?"

"What clues could John Orga give you that I can't? Who's your superior? Who's your partner in the investigation?"

Faced with this rapid‑fire questioning, Jin Chen gave a doubtful hum, "Huh?"

"Do you also know Vincent's romantic situation?"

Alric: "……"

He was practically dying of anger!

His chest pressed against Jin Chen; through several layers of clothing he could feel the warmth and softness.

"Are you angry with me?" Alric stared at him, "Are you mad at me for how I acted toward you last night?"

"Wait a moment, Alric,"

Jin Chen finally grasped something, his voice softening, "I'm not angry; I thought… after you walked away like that yesterday, you wouldn't want to see me today."

His fingertip lightly traced Alric's side, soothing.

"So you deliberately sought him just to anger me?" A'erruike couldn't even listen to the explanation.

He suppressed the surging anger and emotion inside him, grabbed Jin Chen's restless hand, and pressed it firmly against his own chest.

There, beneath the shirt, the skin that had been slightly sucked and bitten last night, leaving it mildly red and swollen and possibly still bearing tooth marks, transmitted a faint stinging sensation through the fabric.

It also let Jin Chen feel the heartbeat, truly bearing too much unreleased tenderness; through the clothing, Jin Chen unconsciously curled his fingers and lightly stroked.

A suppressed groan escaped A'erruike's throat, a tingling impulse surged through his whole body, burning his ears hot.

All gentlemanly demeanor, all warm and suave pretense, were flung to the heavens at this moment.

He seemed to have reverted to that overbearing, forceful scarlet gentleman who struck terror in the black market.