Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble! Chapter 612: What Drives Your Ambitions And Desires?

Even though Joy didn’t believe Cassius was lying, she still needed proof.

So she picked up the thick folder and began moving from one hanging body to another, trying to cross-reference the faces with the wanted posters and files inside.

It wasn’t easy—most of the corpses were mutilated beyond recognition.

But with so effort, she managed to identify a few of them.

The more she checked, the clearer it beca that Cassius hadn’t fabricated the docunts.

While Joy was occupied, Cassius turned toward Carla, who was eyeing a nearby table stacked with grim-looking tools—rusty rods, pincers, hooks.

"So." Cassius began casually. "how exactly did you two even find this place?"

He crossed his arms, frowning slightly.

"I always make sure I’m not being followed. I don’t leave mana trails, and the entire area’s sealed against detection magic."

"So, unless soone sleepwalked right into the well by accident, there’s no way you could have just...stumbled in here."

"We didn’t stumble into it." Carla gave a small, dry smile. "We were led here."

"Led? By what?" Cassius raised an eyebrow. "Divine coincidence? Forest fairies?"

"Close enough." She replied, glancing toward Joy. "Joy over there prayed to her Goddess for guidance...and apparently, the Goddess decided to respond."

That made Cassius pause mid-thought, his face going blank for a mont before he muttered.

"...Wait. You’re telling the Goddess herself helped you find ?"

"That’s right." Joy nodded without lifting her gaze from the files. "I asked her for clarity, and she sent a sign, which led us straight here."

Cassius froze, then groaned loudly, dragging a blood-stained hand down his face.

"Oh, co on! Are you serious right now!?"

He threw his hands up.

"I spend days making wards, hiding this place, covering every trace even—and sohow the Goddess herself decides to tattle on ?"

"What kind of divine harassnt is this!?"

He paced irritably, ranting to himself.

"I an, aren’t gods supposed to stay in their heavens and mind their own business? Why is she wasting her holy ti picking on ? What, does she have nothing better to do?"

"No prayers about famine or war or anything?"

"Just—’Oh, Cassius looks suspicious today, let’s drop a light on him!’"

"...What’s next, she sends angels to file a report?"

He then stopped pacing and pointed accusingly at Joy and Carla.

"And what’s her endga here anyway? She wanted you to find and what—kill after seeing this? Is that it? So divine plot to smite the mortal who’s too handso to live?"

Carala sighed.

"I don’t know her exact intentions nor does Joy..." She admitted. "...But one thing is clear."

"The Goddess has a particular interest in you. Whether she sees you as a threat, or sothing else entirely...it’s difficult to say."

Cassius frowned deeply, falling silent for a mont.

’It has to be what I thought earlier.’ He mused bitterly. ’The Goddess of Light—clearly can’t stand the Goddess of Debauchery’s growing influence.’

’I’m her vessel in this world, so of course she’d want to interfere. Typical divine rivalry, and I’m the poor mortal stuck in the middle.

"Fantastic. I get caught in a Heavenly Feud I never signed up for."

He clenched his jaw before looking up at the ceiling with balled fists.

"Don’t you deity types have anything better to do than ddle with mortals?"

By the ti he was done venting, Joy had finished examining the bodies. She closed the folder and stepped forward, her expression calm but resolute.

"It’s just as you said." She admitted. "Every one of them was guilty. Murderers, slavers, traffickers—they don’t deserve rcy, nor do they deserve a funeral or prayer."

"Let them rot with the sins they’ve committed, rather then burning their remains."

"You think so?" Cassius gave a faint grin. "Personally, I’d rather not. The sll’s already killing in here."

Joy blinked, staring at him in disbelief.

"You’re joking at a ti like this?"

Cassius simply smiled, completely unbothered by the corpses surrounding him.

His composure, his faint amusent in such a horrific setting, unsettled her.

There was sothing about it—not malice, but a strange peace—that she couldn’t quite understand.

She studied him quietly for a mont, then finally stepped forward and decided to ask the question on her mind.

"Cassius." She said quietly, her voice asured. "Why are you doing this?"

He didn’t hesitate.

"Didn’t I already tell you? It’s my hobby."

But Joy’s tone sharpened.

"No. I refuse to believe this is just so twisted pasti of yours..."

"...I believe that it’s sothing much more deep."

Cassius tilted his head, curious but silent.

"As a noble..." Joy continued. "...you have endless ways to occupy ourselves. You could pursue art, magic, comrce—anything. After all, you’re one of the richest n on the continent. The world bends for you."

"And yet, this is what you choose?"

She gestured at the corpses.

"A vigilante executioner, carving murderers in the dark? Don’t insult by calling that a hobby."

"And even if it is so sort of hobby, every action stems from emotion—from purpose. So what’s yours? What drives you to do this?"

"She’s right."

Carla stepped in to support to Joy, since she also had her doubts and went on to say,

"You clearly have the resources to cleanse corruption through proper channels. If you wanted justice, you could order it done legally—with soldiers, investigators, the entire Holyfield authority at your command."

"But instead, you sneak away in the dead of night, get your hands dirty, and risk exposure."

"It just...doesn’t make sense."

She folded her arms, staring him down.

"In another angle, I could say you’re a sadist and that’s why you’re doing all of this. But you don’t strike as one. You don’t enjoy this. You don’t get pleasure from it."

"Even the way these people were...handled..."

She glanced grimly at one of the mutilated bodies.

"...it wasn’t drawn out. It was thodical. Efficient. You weren’t playing with them; you were interrogating them. It was duty, not indulgence."

Her gaze softened slightly.

"So tell us, Cassius, what duty compels you to do this yourself? What is it you’re trying to fix, or prove, or protect, since I find it really hard to believe that it was because of so hobby."

Cassius stood there for a mont, his expression thoughtful—distant even as if weighing their words.

The silence was tense, broken only by the faint crackle of the furnace behind him.

Then, slowly, he exhaled and offered a small, easy smile.

"Don’t you think..." He began lightly. "...that maybe you two are overthinking things a little too much?"

Joy frowned slightly, but said nothing. Carla just tilted her head, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Cassius continued, shrugging casually.

"You’re treating this like it’s so big mystery. But it’s really not. After all, I don’t have any secret grand philosophy behind it."

"You can just think of as a noble who loves justice—that’s all. But unlike the ones who sit in their estates and order others to deliver justice for them, I prefer to do it myself. Personally."

He smiled faintly.

"That’s all there is to it. No grand ideals, no hidden aning. Just...personal satisfaction."

"So that’s it?" Joy raised an eyebrow. "You go around butchering criminals because you ’love justice’?"

Cassius nodded easily. "Exactly. You don’t need to overcomplicate it."

But Joy didn’t look convinced. She crossed her arms and studied him for a long mont, her eyes narrowing as if searching for cracks in his composure.

"Maybe you’re right." She admitted slowly. "Maybe we are overthinking this."

Then her tone shifted, sharper and more serious.

"But..." She tilted her head slightly. "My instincts are telling otherwise."

"Your instincts?"

"Yes." Her gaze was steady now, piercing. "They’re telling that this isn’t sothing simple. That it’s not just a noble’s whim or a self-satisfying hobby."

"There’s sothing deeper inside you—sothing driving this. Sothing that even you might not want to admit."

Carla nodded beside her.

"My instincts are telling the sa thing." She said calmly. "And believe , instincts are the reason I’ve survived this long. They’ve never failed , not once. Even when logic tells otherwise, they always lead to the truth."

Her crimson eyes flicked toward him, steady and unwavering.

"And right now, those instincts are telling that what you’re saying isn’t entirely false—but it isn’t the whole truth either. Sothing else is driving you. Sothing stronger. There’s sothing else behind this."

The three of them fell silent.

Cassius’s eyes lingered on them both—first on Joy, whose calm expression was mixed with stubborn determination, then on Carla, who t his gaze coolly but with a faint glimr of curiosity.

It felt like a standoff, neither side willing to back down.

And honestly, right now he could have brushed it off.

He could have laughed, called them paranoid, and walked away.

But sothing in their eyes—that strange sincerity—made him stop.

And perhaps, deep down, a part of him wanted to tell soone.

Finally, he let out a long sigh. "...Fine, fine. You got ."

Joy was surprised that he actually gave in while Carla folded her arms expectantly.

Cassius turned slightly, glancing toward the hanging corpses before speaking, his tone quieter now.

"You’re right. It’s not exactly a hobby or so random whim. It’s sothing else entirely..."

"...sothing that’s been inside since the very day I was born."

That made both won exchange a confused glance.

Carla frowned slightly.

"What do you an ’the day you were born’? You make it sound as though this was predetermined."

Cassius didn’t answer imdiately. He began pacing slowly, hands folded behind his back.

"Before I explain." He said calmly. "I want to ask you sothing first."

He looked up, eyes glinting faintly in the dim light.

"What about you two? What drives you to do what you do? What made you into the people you are today?"

Joy blinked, thrown off by the sudden question.

"For instance..." Cassius continued, turning to her. "...you, Joy—why did you beco an executioner of sinners? You could have beco a healer, a protector, soone the people adore."

"But instead, you beca the woman everyone fears. The ’Murderous Saint,’ they call you, don’t they?"

Joy blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift.

"Because I despise sinners." She said firmly. "I despise those who harm the innocent."

"No, no, no."

Cassius interrupted, raising a finger with a teasing smile.

"I already know that and what I want to know is when did that hatred begin?"

"When did your disgust for corruption take root?"

"Surely, you weren’t born hating people. So what changed you?"

Joy’s eyes lowered slightly. For a long mont, she said nothing. Then her voice beca slightly emotional.

"It started with my mother." She admitted. "I watched her suffer her entire life. She was kind, selfless, and pure—and yet she was betrayed by people who pretended to be holy."

"Priests, nobles, rchants—they smiled in public, blessed in the na of the goddess, but behind closed doors they were monsters. They used her, tortured her, broke her. And I..."

Her voice faltered slightly.

"...I could do nothing."

She clenched her fists.

"That’s when I swore I’d never let people like that thrive again. I beca the Goddess’s Blade to cut down hypocrisy. That’s who I am."

Cassius nodded slowly, a faint smile returning.

"I see. Your hatred was born from witnessing corruption—from pain, from helplessness. Understandable."

Then his gaze turned to Carla. "And what about you, my feisty little vampire?"

Carla shot him an imdiate glare. "Don’t call that." She muttered.

He grinned but didn’t push further.

"Then answer . What drives you, Carla?"

She crossed her arms tightly, her voice level but sharp.

"It should be obvious. My entire race was slaughtered. My people were wiped from history—burned, hunted, erased."

"Centuries ago, the nobles and priests you people adore led a holy crusade that turned my holand into ash. And as if that wasn’t enough..."

Her expression softened slightly—almost painfully.

"My family was taken from too. My parents were butchered by the sa kind of people who now sit comfortably in their temples preaching virtue."

"You ask what drives ? That’s my answer. Revenge."

Cassius nodded again, expression calm but understanding.

"I see. So both of you..." He said slowly. "...were shaped by trauma—pain and loss that twisted sothing inside of you. And..."

"...that’s actually normal."

"Most people who live extre lives are forged by so tragedy. It’s what drives them. That trauma becos the root of their conviction."

He turned away from them slightly, looking down at the bloodied floor.

"But what if I told you..."

He raised a finger slowly, glancing over his shoulder at them.

"...that I never had anything like that?"

Joy frowned, confused about what he said.

"What do you an?"

Cassius smiled faintly.

"I an, I never lost my parents to a tragic event."

"I never watched my loved ones die."

"I was never betrayed, never heartbroken, never tortured or scarred by the world like you two were."

"I didn’t beco like this because of trauma or hatred or loss."

He turned fully toward them now, his eyes brimming with emotion but unsettlingly clear.

"Instead, from the mont I was born or rather, from the mont I was created, there was already sothing inside ."

"A sense of duty."

"A drive I didn’t choose."

"A purpose that’s...difficult to explain."

"If I told you I was fated to hold the balance of the world from the very beginning of my existence, would you believe ?"