Despite having few significant flaws, this otherwise exemplary officer had one fatal weakness as a policeman: his hopelessly terrible intuition.

Police officers inevitably need razor-sharp instincts when catching vicious criminals on the front lines. This applied to William as well, but at crucial moments, his exceptionally malfunctioning intuition often led him astray.

However, since an officer’s rise and fall isn’t determined by intuition alone, William had compensated for this deficiency with diligence and dedication. His greatest challenge came two years ago, on that fateful day.

Recognized for his steadily accumulated achievements, he was selected as the commander-in-chief for the arrest of a heinous criminal who had shocked the entire nation. If he successfully resolved this case, a special promotion was guaranteed, and they had already narrowed down the suspect’s whereabouts.

At this once-in-a-lifetime moment, when they only needed to tighten the net and make the arrest, William made an irreversible mistake as commander that allowed the criminal to flee overseas.

The cause of the mistake was, needless to say, his stubborn “malfunctioning intuition.” Due to this blunder that would go down in police headquarters history, he was demoted to Ponten.

After becoming the chief of a quiet rural police station, his spirit was crushed, and for two years, he performed only the basic duties of a mediocre station chief without complaint. Without any passion or sense of mission. Under the conviction that exercising his professional spirit would only cause trouble.

But that conviction expired today—no, at this very moment.

His worn-out but thorough dedication as an officer was reigniting. His “malfunctioning intuition” was identifying Daniel as the same person as in the sketch, despite there being no resemblance whatsoever upon close inspection.

However, due to his impressive track record of failures, he hesitated to act on this conviction. Just look at Jerry the bakery owner’s reaction. If Jerry responded this way—news of his demotion due to faulty intuition was already widespread in Ponten—it was crystal clear that his subordinate officers at the station would only scoff if he shared his suspicions.

William needed justification. Since arriving in Ponten, he had desperately longed to return to Central Police Headquarters. However, in this barren land of achievements where the most serious incident was neighbors fighting over garden boundaries, he could hardly plan for his future.

For him, this swindler case was a golden opportunity that would never come again. William decided to stake everything on his intuition one last time. Even though no one believed him, and he himself lacked confidence:

‘Even if I’m alone, I’ll conduct a secret investigation on my own!’

He stuffed the remaining half of his sandwich into his mouth, his eyes blazing with determination.

* * *

Meanwhile, Sion, unaware that William had planted seeds of suspicion toward him, returned to the villa and busied himself with setting up Agate’s meal—or rather, her sugar-loading table.

“Miss, as luck would have it, the bakery had freshly baked, crispy mille-feuille. Jerry took extra care with everything.”

After Sion finished setting up and stepped back, Adollo stuck close to Agate and chattered as he placed a spoon beside her. Agate barely seemed to listen to him before picking up the fork neatly placed beside her and deeply cutting into the mille-feuille layered with whipped cream, making it bite-sized.

‘Hooo…’

Sion couldn’t take his eyes off Agate’s dining scene as if it were something significant. Indeed, it was the first time in his short career as a butler that he had witnessed the usually nibbling young lady so actively chewing and continuously using her fork.

Every time she showed a human-like aspect, it was as fascinating as watching a monkey perform circus tricks. Each ordinary action that would be completely normal from others became a spectacle when coming from this woman.

As someone rarely given the opportunity to waste time while serving as the tedious lady’s dedicated butler, Sion’s gaze was naturally fixed on Agate. He stared at her intently.

She ate the mille-feuille and various dainty desserts that Sion had gone all the way to town to purchase, all by herself. As if it were perfectly natural for the servants to attend solely to her, she ate without a single word of courtesy, even getting cream on the corners of her mouth.

Adollo and Kanna wore broad smiles tinged with satisfaction, as if just watching her eat was enough to fill their stomachs.

Agate’s cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk’s as she put the last piece of mille-feuille in her mouth. Sion was continuously surprised to see her reach for the plate with blueberry scones without even taking a break. How many unexpected sides of her was he discovering in a single day?

‘So desserts elicit her strongest reaction… Perhaps I should try to gain her interest through food.’

Still unable to take his eyes off her small lips as they chewed, Sion fell into deep thought. Whether through food or social skills, to win her favor, he first needed to secure time alone with her. That wasn’t difficult. After all, he was her dedicated personal butler.

Until now, his primary goal had been to steal the villa’s treasures, so he had taken every opportunity to leave Agate’s side and search the villa in all directions. But with his changed plan, his sphere of activity needed to change as well.

“It’s good to see the young lady eating well. I must go now to organize the accounts.”

Adollo, who had been keeping watch over Agate for some time, gave Sion a look suggesting he was entrusting the aftermath to him and left to attend to his main duties. Conveniently, the most troublesome sentry had disappeared.

“Ah! I need to step out briefly too. Actually, I promised to help Gilbert with some landscaping work when I borrowed those rose petals earlier!”

Kanna clapped her hands as if suddenly remembering. No wonder she had easily gathered a basketful of flowers—some kind of deal had been made. With even the final obstacle voluntarily removing itself, Sion was getting his way without lifting a finger.

“Butler, could you let me know through the window when the young lady finishes her meal? I need to sweep the front garden a bit before coming back to brush the young lady’s hair!”

“Brush her hair?”

Only then did Sion’s gaze shift from Agate’s delicate lips to her hair—that platinum blonde hair that looked like it could be used as a broom to sweep the floor right now without seeming out of place.

“Yes, I tried to do it earlier when you went to town, but the young lady wouldn’t allow it, so I couldn’t even touch it.”

“Aah…”

Sion gave only a perfunctory response. He had grown so accustomed to her disheveled appearance that he didn’t find her terrible state unusual at all. Rather, he found it difficult to understand Kanna’s evident disappointment as she held the brush.

‘If she doesn’t want it done, just leave her be. Well, she looks like a poodle with all that fluff, which is kind of dog-like and nice.’

The servants around her were overzealous despite the lady herself showing no interest in maintaining her appearance. Only Sion, who had already seen everything there was to see of her, had a “whatever” attitude, having grown accustomed to her spectacle of a state.

“I’ll do it. Kanna, you seem busy in many ways, and since it’s for the young lady, it falls under my responsibilities anyway.”

“Oh my, really?!”

Kanna covered her mouth with both hands, seemingly moved by Sion’s casual response. She even stamped her feet, wondering how anyone could resist falling for this handsome and kind man.

“But… have you ever brushed hair before? The young lady’s hair is semi-curly, making it particularly difficult to groom.”

However, her surge of emotion was brief. When Kanna tilted her head and asked for confirmation, Sion’s face twitched. He had readily offered his kindness intending to buy more time alone with Agate, only to face an unexpected challenge.

The dry platinum blonde hair that sometimes resembled straw wasn’t problematic because it was semi-curly. This hair, thoroughly neglected by choice, would be more accurately described as malignant bedhead.

“…I used to groom the hair of a young lady I served before, when she was little.”

Lies flowed smoothly from his mouth without any preparation. Brushing hair? He had never even touched such a fist-sized brush, let alone brushed a woman’s hair. But Sion didn’t mind. His goal was simply to create intimate time with Agate—if the brushing worked, fine; if not, he could just say he couldn’t do it.

In fact, the young lady throwing a tantrum would provide a good excuse.