By Zephyria 
What kind of game is this man proposing to me right now?
As Nathaniel Miller said, this was a grave matter that could potentially cost me my license. And yet, he makes a proposal like this? With such a relaxed smile?
No, he even looked bored. As if a lawyer meant nothing to him, as if this were a wager even more trivial than a bet on the outcome of a basketball game. Unable to reconcile the atmosphere with the phrase “staking one’s legal career,” I couldn’t help but ask.
“Why are you making this proposal to me?”
As I waited for an answer, he narrowed his long eyes and slowly opened his mouth.
“Because I’m bored.”
“……Ha.”
A sigh escaped me in sheer disbelief. To some, this is a matter of life and death, but to this man, it’s nothing more than a light event to kill a tedious day?
“So, what? You want me to entertain you?”
At my naturally coarsened tone, Nathaniel Miller chuckled, tracing the rim of his whiskey glass.
“I’ve already stated my conditions.”
Stopping his finger as it traced the rim, he shifted his gaze to stare into my face.
“Will you be able to satisfy me?”
I met his gaze in silence for a moment. This was clearly a test. How far can you go in the name of ‘justice’?
It felt as if that was what he was asking. Did he want me to kneel right here and lick his feet? Was that the ‘satisfaction’ this man was talking about?
Or perhaps, something more.
Suddenly, the bar table in front of me entered my field of vision. It wasn’t hard to imagine myself lying on top of it with my legs spread. When I looked back, my eyes immediately locked with Nathaniel Miller’s. I frowned deeply and spoke.
“I’m a prosecutor. Stop talking nonsense and propose something a prosecutor can actually do.”
My tone was stiff, devoid of any sexual nuance. Rather, I spat the words out with a coldness that bordered on ruthless and waited for his reaction. To see what this man would say next.
It was just as I unconsciously swallowed hard. Suddenly, Nathaniel Miller’s lips curved upward into a wide arc. While I was momentarily flustered, he suddenly spoke.
“James Barry.”
“What?”
The name popped out so unexpectedly that I asked back without thinking. However, he simply continued to pour whiskey, a smile still lingering on his face. I stood there for a moment, blinking in bewilderment.
James Barry…… a man’s name?
Then it suddenly clicked. The condition this man had mentioned.
‘Every time you satisfy me, I will give you one clue.’
My mind went blank belatedly. Was this the clue? He’s giving it away this easily? Why? While I was blinking in a daze, one thought finally occurred to me.
Was this man satisfied because I refused?
Only then did it all start to make sense. Nathaniel Miller would have been disappointed if I had actually lain down on the bar table. It wasn’t my body he wanted. Well, ultimately that might be true, but not right now.
Nathaniel Miller didn’t want me to sell my body to him so easily. He wanted it piece by piece, like a game, like peeling the layers off a thick-skinned fruit.
“……Ha.”
A short sigh of disbelief escaped me. He’s the one who said he wanted to sleep with me, yet it’s not his taste for me to fall for it too easily—what a demanding man.
The thought that things had ended up exactly as this man intended made me flare up with anger. Instead of venting my rage with curses, I spoke as calmly as possible.
“I want to go back now. Where are my pants?”
I deliberately tilted my chin up, adding as if such an incident was nothing.
“You’re not suggesting I go back like this, are you?”
“Perish the thought, I would never do such a thing.”
Nathaniel Miller, deliberately mimicking my tone, spoke with a peculiar smile.
“I’m of the mindset that good things should be hidden away for my eyes only.”
I twisted my lips into a smirk and smiled back.
“I bet you are.”
The clothes I had been wearing before I lost consciousness were returned to me, neatly folded and freshly laundered. I felt a strange sensation from the scent of a detergent I had never smelled before as I changed. I don’t know what kind of magic he performed, but the cheap shirt and pants clung to my body with surprising softness. I even examined the clothes I was wearing, thinking, This material is absolutely not like this.
“Are you ready? I’ll drop you off.”
When I stepped into the hallway, Nathaniel Miller, who had been sitting on the living room sofa, stood up readily and spoke. Without waiting for me, he walked ahead and opened the inner door, ignoring the various car keys placed in a small trunk by the entrance. Unable to comprehend the situation, I looked back and forth between the man’s back and the keys, but in the meantime, Nathaniel pressed a button on the wall, and the front door suddenly slid open to both sides and disappeared. Only then did I realize that the sliding door was actually an elevator door. Having never imagined a house with such a structure, I followed Nathaniel Miller in the elevator, feeling dazed, toward some destination.
The place we arrived at was the parking garage. I unconsciously looked around at the several cars lined up on both sides, and Nathaniel strode forward and climbed into one of them.
Following him into the passenger seat, I frowned upon seeing the smart key lying carelessly inside the car. Suddenly, Nathaniel asked me.
“Why, do you not like the car?”
It sounded as if he were saying, ‘If so, I’ll let you ride in another one.’ I shook my head, my face still scrunched.
“No, it’s just that I can’t imagine leaving a car key inside the car like this. I suppose it doesn’t matter among the rich because they don’t steal from each other?”
I had said it with a hint of bitterness, but Nathaniel suddenly burst into laughter. Blinking at the unexpected reaction, I looked back at him, and he spoke with a voice still laced with laughter.
“What are you talking about? The rich steal even bigger things. How else would they become rich?”
In a broad sense, he might be right, but surely this case was different. Thinking that, I spoke again.
“But leaving the key in the car is because there’s a certainty that they won’t steal from one another. Isn’t that right?”
He wouldn’t be able to deny this. As I looked at him with conviction, Nathaniel answered with a smile on his face.
“Ah, in a sense, yes.”
“What do you mean, ‘in a sense’?”
At my suspicious question, Nathaniel spoke while keeping his eyes on the road.
“The certainty that whoever lives here wouldn’t be stupid enough to go through the trouble of trespassing into my parking garage to steal a car.”
His words sounded plausible. If not for the use of an unfamiliar term.
“My parking garage?”
When I repeated the words Nathaniel had used, he gave a short nod. I unconsciously looked behind me, then looked back at his profile and asked.
“Then you’re saying that’s a parking garage you use alone? And all those are your cars?”
“Yes.”
He answered without hesitation. And I found myself completely speechless.
* * *
The mansion he had mentioned, saying, ‘Sometimes family members use it too,’ was apparently one his father had used. He was talking about Ashley Miller. In fact, the main family home was in the suburbs, and this place was more of a villa used when visiting the area; I heard while riding in the car that Nathaniel had taken it over as his residence after inheriting the law firm. He mentioned that other siblings occasionally used it when he was away, though it was rare.
‘It’s quite decent as long as family doesn’t visit,’ he had concluded. And that ‘quite decent’ really grated on my nerves. Quite? Quite decent? To call the value of a penthouse overlooking a park and a river ‘quite decent’—how ‘decent’ indeed.
I tried to be as sarcastic as possible, but it didn’t change anything. We were born with different capacities. What was the point of envying and being jealous of what others had? The important thing was how to handle the matter currently before my eyes.
The moment I went to work and saw the piled-up documents, I was immediately brought back to reality. Even while reading the files for a newly assigned case and grasping the details, I thought of Anthony Smith from time to time.
James Barry.
Who on earth is this? While eating a sandwich for lunch, I searched the name, and several search results immediately popped up. I focused my attention on the top two.
A doctor. Or a writer.
Which one was it?
For a while, I pored over the information of the two, lost in thought with a serious expression.