"Now," His father began again, voice sharp but steady, "What I'm saying was about your behavior yesterday."
The man sat upright, shoulders squared, every word carrying the weight of both parent and baron.
"I want you to go apologize." A pause.
"And compensate them." Another pause, heavier. "If not, your allowance will be cut for a month."
Finally, with the full authority of his title, he said, "As a father… and as Baron, I cannot tolerate this."
Saruto only half-listened, because he already understood the message well enough. His eyes, however, slid sideways with a blank, deadpan stare at,
him...
There, the seated blonde boy.
Ridiculously bound by rope and duct tape, struggling like a fish out of water. His chair rattled as he shook it violently, making the utensils on the table clink.
"Mmpph!! Hmmph!!" The muffled grunts strained pathetically against the layers of silver tape, trying to break free.
Saruto didn't so much as blink.
Instead, he leaned back slightly and let a slow, mocking smirk tug at his lips—a devilish curve that said suffer quietly, brother, suffer...
The silence respond was sweet because the blonde couldn't retort.
Finally, he turned back toward his father. still wearing the mask of rudeness but holding his tongue from profanity. "Agh, fine…"
he muttered, stabbing a strip of bacon with the fork and lifting it to his mouth like a proper noble.
Crunch.
'Hm?' he thought while chewing, 'Didn't expect this body to have noble manners built in. Muscle memory, huh. Cool.'
He continued eating, thoughtlessly savoring the feast, completely missing the way both his parents exchanged glances of subtle surprise.
They had braced for him to throw a tantrum, complain about "dirty commoners," or flip the table. Instead, he just… agreed.
For the rest of breakfast, the room was filled with two things: the clatter of silverware and the constant muffled growling of a restrained dog disguised as a noble son.
After nearly an hour, Saruto finally rose from his seat, wiping his mouth with the napkin like a man with no care in the world.
But before he could step away, his father's voice cut across the room. "Don't forget to bring Riot along as your escort."
"HMPPH?!?!" The blonde boy's name had been revealed, and he was not remotely pleased of what he's was being assigned. thrashing in his chair, still duct-taped like a hostage.
"Ohhh~ That's a great idea, sweetie!" his mother chimed in sweetly, clapping her hands together. "Why not bring your brother along? A bonding walk between siblings!"
Oblivious, of course. Her affectionate nature was one of the very reasons the original owner had turned into a spoiled brat.
Saruto paused mid-step, his back still turned.
'But. It seems this old man isn't an Baron for nothing. He's clearly using him to monitor me.' His eyes slid over his shoulder briefly.
'Well, I can't really blame them.'
Then he shrugged, "Whatever." Continuing toward the door.
Not an outright rejection. just enough to leave the parents with hope, while he made his exit from the room.
——————
Both of them now stood outside, staring at the half-destroyed elderly restaurant.
'How did this fucker cause this much damage??' Saruto thought, with his mouth open wide.
"Anyways, before we enter… Why the HELL are you carrying so many restrained weapons on your back like we're marching into a warzone?!" Saruto snapped, eyes locked on Riot's ridiculous loadout.
"It's not like I'm gonna do anything! I'm just taking safety measures. Against YOU!" Riot barked back.
"Fuck you!" Big-bro said.
"Fuck you too!" Lil-bro said.
The insults flew with all the grace of two kids fighting over the last cookie, until Saruto finally threw his hands up in a mock surrender. "Geez, whatever. let's just get this over wit—"
The door swung open with the force of divine slapstick, smashing Riot straight to the ground. As he lay sprawled in a flawless Yamcha K.O. pose.
"Agh… does this alway keep happening to me…?" he groaned, limbs twitching.
'Phew. Luckily I wasn't standing there. Thanks, meat-shield,' Saruto thought, face flat, not a shred of concern showing. He turned toward the doorwa—
"You again?! Didn't I tell you to NEVER come back here ever again?!"
A man towered over them. Muscles stacked on muscles. A glare sharp enough to kill flies midair.
Saruto's pupils shrank. 'That?! THAT'S the elderly man?!? HOW IS HE SO FREAKING BUFF?!' His mind shrieked in disbelief.
"Young lad!" the man bellowed, cracking his knuckles with a sound-like he's readying his heavenly destroyer godly fist technique.
"You better brace yourself—BEFORE I SERVE YOU A KNUCKLE SANDWICH!"
The old man launched his right fist without a second thought, and Saruto couldn't dodge the fast strike.
He sighed heavily in his thoughts. 'Fuck…' Standing there, he shed a tiny tear from one eye, preparing himself for the most painful moment of his life. 'Guess this is it. I'm cooked.'
He braced himself.
And waited.
And… waited again.
'Huh?' He slowly opened his eye, confused why the fist hadn't arrived yet.
But the fist hovering an inch from Saruto's face, the old man's arm was frozen mid-swing. His shoulders locked up, chest heaving like a steam engine. veins bulging across his arm like coiled cords.
Then Saruto saw it.
"Harm the Young-Master, you'll die..." said a voice came from the back of an old man, cold and razor-sharp.
Behind him stood Elena, her dagger pressed neatly against his throat, her eyes show she's not kidding.
And there was Riot, planting himself squarely between Saruto and the old man, holding his greatsword diagonally with both hands.
"Sorry, sir," he said, "even if my brother's a total asshole, could you, uh… please calm down?"
Saruto stared blankly at the scene. the dramatic setup looked straight out of an over-the-top action anime.
Then old man's arm twitched slightly as he grudgingly lowered it, letting out a guttural growl.
"Tch… young punks these days… no respect… back in my day, we'd settle this with a single punch, not a circus act…"
He muttered, glaring at them while cracking his neck, clearly annoyed that he got interrupted mid-swing.
Saruto exhaled a long breath, dead-eyed. "Both of you, lower your blades." His tone was flat, bordering on rudeness.
But well, that's just how he sounded on the outside. inside, pure survival instincts were celebrating. 'Thanks God! I'm Still Alive! Hooray!'
"As you wish, Master~" Elena said sweetly before vanishing into thin air, leaving a faint trail of shadow behind.
Riot snorted, lowering his sword. "No need to tell me." He slid the blade back into its sheath, muttering under his breath, still glancing at the them like he expected round two.
The air fell quiet again, only Saruto's shaky exhale broke it. 'I swear… every bits of time, every minute, something always gone wrong…'
He thought, mentally filing his reasons even more to live a comfortable life.
*
To be continue...
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Synchronization: 000.5█