Defending the Villain’s Innocence

One day, while living as a money-grubbing, unscrupulous lawyer, I found myself transmigrated as Elena Christie, a penniless extra in a fantasy romance novel. “Let’s see, who has the biggest bounty on their head?” To escape a poverty hell more terrifying than the inferno itself, I decided to defend Benedict Richard, the story’s ultimate villain, a duke on the verge of execution for mu*der. My reward for success? Half of his confiscated fortune. “Is there any evidence here, in this courtroom, that the defendant committed this mu*der?” I thought I’d torn the courtroom apart with my flawless arguments…. What? They’ll only return his assets if I catch the real culprit? Fine. I’ll catch the real culprit. I’ll get the money. And so, I ran myself ragged chasing the true mu*derer, even going so far as to fix the Duke’s finances, which were on the brink of collapse after his assets were seized. I even managed his public image, tarnished by the mu*derer label, thinking it might help secure his acquittal. I was utterly swamped, all to protect my future payday. “We have a contract, nothing more. Don’t expect anything else.” The Duke delivered the unnecessary, and rather dramatic, pronouncement that there would be no special incentives beyond the agreed-upon fee. I shook my head at his surprising stinginess, so unlike his imposing figure. * * * “Ha….” Benedict Richard sighed, a sound heavy with anguish. This was a serious predicament. He pressed a hand to his forehead, his face etched with worry, and muttered, “I think Elena Christie likes me.” Something decidedly unusual was happening. He was certain of it.