Despite that, the Klover family accepted the infant out of respect for Johann who strongly believed the baby was indeed his grandson.
"Watch your mouth, little brat," Johann warned as he looked at Betho with a hateful gaze.
Betho snorted dismissively, "And what are you going to do? You have no way of proving he's your grandson. Do you want us to believe the word of a whore? I bet the rumours floating around recently were also your doing."
Gulp—
The tension in the room intensifies.
The air beca thick with animosity. Others who were present sensed the impending fight was about to happen as both sides didn't want to back down.
Demin stepped in, attempting to quell the rising tension. "Alright, both of you calm down. No one is suitable to be the duke aside from my son."
Just as everyone was on the verge of sighing relief, Demin's words acted like oil poured into a blazing fire.
The room was plunged back into stunned silence.
""What?!""
"You bastard! So, this is your plan all along, huh?"
"What's wrong? Darren is the most suitable one. He is unquestionably a Klover and capable of controlling his temper. He has been training in the art of governance with for years now. I'm sure he's more worthy than both of you."
Betho frowns in disgust as he looks at Darren, "Are you sure we're talking about the sa person? This guy is a sadist who loves torturing people for fun."
"Well, everybody needs a hobby or two. Everything is fine as long as his hobby doesn't affect his work." Demin shrugged.
"You're sick! Who the hell had a hobby of torturing people?!" Betho retorted.
"Yeah, I disagree," Johann also joined in to express his disapproval.
Demin is starting to feel a bit annoyed.
Although he had anticipated so resistance, he remained confident that he could sway people in their faction to support Darren's candidacy.
Demin looked at all the people present whom he had been ignoring since the start of the eting and posed a question, "Don't you guys also think my son is the most fitted one?"
An uneasy silence lingered and the question was left unanswered. The atmosphere grew thick with discomfort as each person hesitated to either nod or shake their head.
Demin could sense their reluctance just by looking at them.
Their facial expressions showed caution and wariness as if they were crossing treacherous waters. So lowered their eyes, avoiding direct contact with him while so exchanged furtive glances.
These people were well aware of the imnse influence held by the trio of powerful figures in the faction.
Offending any of the three most powerful figures in the faction could have severe consequences.
They didn't want to put themselves in that trouble.
"Heh! Even they are not agreeing with you." Betho couldn't hide his satisfaction as he mocked Demin. His taunt was accompanied by smugness as Demin failed miserably in convincing them.
"That's not entirely true, you dumbass," Demin replied.
He sound slightly irritated. Maybe because of the realization of the cowardice prevalent among the faction mbers.
The progress reached a deadlock. No consensus decision erged and each mber was reluctant to yield. Tensions lingered, creating an impasse with no apparent resolution.
Hua~
A subtle yawn escaped Johann's mouth. The clock had struck midnight and weariness was beginning to overtake the old man.
"It seems like we can't get a result. I think we better postpone this issue to another date. After all, there is no need for us to rush into making a decision. Please be considerate toward this poor old man and don't drag this eting any longer."
"If you can't stay up for this long in the night, then why are you getting involved in the first place? You should take a step back and send out that grandson of yours here."
Demin strongly disagreed with ending the eting without deciding on their candidate.
"This old man is a doting grandfather. He's doing this to protect his grandson from us. That ignorant and inexperienced brat will get torn into pieces if he's the one sitting here right now." said Betho who couldn't resist sending a jab at Johann's direction.
"I see. However, you should at least bring him here. Hiding him away won't help the kid in the long run."
"Enough with my grandson, Demin. What do you suggest us to do?"
A smile ford on Demin's face as if he was waiting for that question all this ti, "I suggest we let them decide by voting."
He looks at the rest of the people in the room before continuing, "Of course, who votes for who is kept secret. What do you guys think?"
Johann was the first to refuse, "What a stupid idea! What are we? A republic?"
Betho chid in, "Yeah, I agree with the old man this ti."
Demin pressed on, "But that is the best way to settle things between us without holding any grudge. Even if we postpone this discussion now, we still have to deal with it in the future. Would you wish for Percival to exploit this noticeable weakness of our faction?"
"..."
Silence hung in the room.
"Since everyone doesn't have a better way than my suggestion, let us begin." Demin declared.
He snapped his fingers and the butler entered with tiny pieces of paper and a box.
It is painfully clear that Demin had prepared for this. His suggestion is not a spur-of-the-mont idea.
"Everyone take a piece and write a na you strongly believe suitable to be the next duke," Demin instructed.
The butler efficiently distributes the paper.
Tonight, for so reason, Demin beca a bit pushy.
Nevertheless, these people begin to write the na of their choice and slip the paper inside the box.
After what felt like an eternity, everyone finished casting their vote.
The butler promptly opens the box and begins counting right here, right there.
The result? Darren won a landslide victory.
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