hopepainandshit | TLV: IC Inbox

He clenches his jaw again.

"To brand him with the Heretic's mark. Show the city and the country what he really is," he mutters. "I would have needed to knock him out and taken him down, unseen, to the Interrogation Room where the brand is."

It's creative, nonlethal, and would have been the better option.

Corvo still didn't think it would be worth the risk when he could hear the man choke.

"Couldn't you have taken the brand from the prison?" That seems the more straightforward way to him, but he might be missing something.

He shakes his head. "No. There is a chemical involved along with the brand itself being far too heavy to simply carry with me. I couldn't guarantee that the fires upstairs would burn hot enough, either."

He nods readily, easy acceptance of new information.

It doesn't make the Campbell situation better, but he's certainly starting to see a bigger picture.

He slides Campbell's picture to the side for the moment, clearing the way for-

"The Pendleton brothers. You said they were hiding Emily for a while there."

He nods, glad to be moving on.

"Overseer Campbell's journal, which I had been tasked to take, contained blackmail information that the Loyalists needed. It also told them where Emily was being held. The twins owned a pleasure house - the Golden Cat. She was inside. Their youngest brother, also a Loyalist, needed their votes in Parliament, so they needed to be taken care of."

He leans forward on the table again, linking his fingers. "I - met with Slackjaw. Leader of a gang in Dunwall. He said he could take care of them for me if I did him a favor. He wouldn't kill them. I didn't want to risk Emily by shedding unnecessary blood in the Cat, so I did it."

His eyes flick up to meet Corvo's, but his head stays angled towards the paper. "What did you do, then?"

"He wanted the code to a safe. There was an art dealer who - enjoyed the attentions at the Cat." He raises a brow.

"Are you even old enough to hear this story, boy?"

"That's cute, you think I don't know what a prostitute is." But it's a snicker, and his grin widens. "Don't tell me you had to suck his cock for the code?"

Corvo's smile is warm. Despite it all, he's fond of this fucking brat. Sometimes he has to remind himself of that fact.

"Not exactly. He liked to get a little shock while blindfolded. All I had to do was dismiss the women and increase the electricity. He gave me what I needed."

Richter hasn't had the pleasure of getting electrocuted yet, but he can only imagine that would fucking suck.

"That's still not great, mind you." But at least he didn't kill him? "What happened then? Your man didn't kill the brothers, and Emily wasn't there, right?"

"No. She was there. Upstairs. Clever girl led me out the back way once I had the key for us," he mutters. "I took her back to the pub and she - stayed there a while."

"What happened to them? The brothers." The paper says, so he picks it up casually, so Corvo can't cheat.

"He didn't say and I didn't ask."

He deliberately doesn't look.

"Right." Neutral, almost careful. But that's... also not great.

He slides the paper aside. "Lady Boyle?"

He looks away.

"No. Not that one." It's the one he has the most regret about and he even tries to reach over to snatch the page away.

He snatches the page first and leans back quickly, holding it at arm's length so Corvo can't grab it. "All of them, Corvo. What did you do to Lady Boyle?"

"Read it yourself," he mutters, staring at the door. "I didn't kill her."

"No, it was worse than that," he says quietly. He's trying to keep his voice even, but it's a hard-won calm. "You turned her into a prisoner, you sold her to a man that was obsessed with her."

He doesn't deny it. He doesn't justify it. The truth is there, in that file, and he can't run.

He just watches Richter. Silent.

His gaze remains, but there's no point belaboring it. Corvo knows.

Next page.

"Hiram Burrows."

"I put a blade through his heart," Corvo says with no hesitation.

"You knew he was guilty," he says plainly. "And you didn't give anyone else a chance to realise it."

"No."

He clenches his teeth. "He was the mind behind it all. I wanted to see him killed."

He doesn't even deny it. As time went on, Corvo started to care less and less. He started to see and think only in blood and death. He would be willing to brand Campbell. Burrows had no chance.

"No one else knew," he repeats pointedly. "That means for all anyone knew you slaughtered him in cold blood. That you would kill anyone with the right reason. Nobody would be able or willing to trust you, if they couldn't tell what you're thinking."

"I don't care. I was a wanted man anyway. He deserved to die. He deserved that and more."

He gestures to the file. "As did Daud."

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