"My lord… you're awake?" A young fox-girl with brown hair walked over to Rohan, carrying a bowl of medicine.
Mila.
Those fuzzy ears on top of her head left Rohan absolutely speechless.
And there was a percentage, 25%, floating above her head. What on earth was that?
He glanced down. White stockings and little black shoes on her legs… tight enough to leave marks in her skin.
Oh. The classic fantasy-world maid outfit. All she'd need was a stuffed animal to complete the look.
Tonight, she's mine.
Rohan was sure of one thing: this was another world. He knew because he'd just been literally scared to death back home.
Yeah. Scared to death.
Some reader had told him his latest novel was absolute garbage, said it had messed him up just reading it, and demanded Rohan pay him back for the experience.
Rohan had always been a proud guy. That kind of insult hit different. His vision went dark, and just like that… he was gone from that world he'd loved so much.
But his body had come along for the ride. Before the crossing, some kind of system had set him up with an identity that looked exactly like him, then dumped a whole set of memories into his head.
As for what happened to the original poor soul? Who knows. It was basically just swapping out the transmigration premise entirely.
"Those rotten rioters…" Rohan slowly absorbed the original owner's memories and played the part, picking up the medicine and drinking it. "Still causing trouble?"
Mila was caught off guard. Her lord had just gotten beaten to a bloody mess by a mob, and he woke up calm? No rage? No screaming?
Something's off. Did they knock something loose in his head?
"Once they saw you coughing up blood… they scattered," Mila said, furrowing her brow. "But if you keep squeezing people the way you have been… I'm afraid things will only get worse."
Rohan nodded. It all came back to him: the original owner had wanted to propose to some noble girl and, to put together a massive dowry, had taxed his territory dry for three straight months. The people were starving.
So they revolted.
Rohan walked out onto the castle balcony, which looked out over most of the territory. "I hate this place," he said flatly. "It's poor, it's chaotic, it's filthy, and it's weak."
Mila stood nearby and said nothing. She honestly didn't know where he got the nerve to say that.
You're the one who made it this bad. Ever since you took over, things have gone from bad to worse.
She'd nearly been sold off herself, just so he could scrape together that pitiful dowry.
"A thirty percent tax rate." Rohan sat down and crossed his hands. "That seems fair to me."
Mila's eyes went wide. She looked like she couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"My lord, are you sure you want to cut taxes that low?" she asked carefully, half-expecting him to take it back.
Rohan nodded. "Let's start there. Things keep going the way they are, nobody's going to work at all. Once this mess dies down, I'll make sure everyone knows what happens when you put your hands on a noble."
It still felt completely absurd to Mila. But there was something different about him, a coldness she'd never seen before, and it made her uneasy enough to simply take the order and go post the tax reduction notice.
[Mila — Obedience 27% — Early Trust]
Rohan watched the percentage above Mila's head tick up and fell into thought.
That had to be the system. If it hit a hundred percent, there was probably some kind of reward waiting.
But how was he supposed to raise her obedience?
Drawing from his time back on Earth… what was the fastest way to make someone obedient?
He'd seen plenty of bad actors use one particular method: conditioning. Psychological manipulation. What people called pick-up artistry taken to its darkest extreme.
The method worked by applying constant pressure through words and behavior, gradually making the other person doubt themselves until they became more and more compliant.
When Mila came back to report, she found her lord sitting at his desk, sipping red tea with a calm, unhurried air.
"What's that smell?" Rohan frowned, set down his cup, walked over to Mila, and lifted a strand of her hair to his nose. "Mila. You need a bath."
Mila's face went red in an instant. She took an instinctive step back and bowed her head, her voice coming out small and flustered. "My lord, I… I'm sorry. Things have been so busy lately, I… I must have slipped up."
"It's fine, I get it. Hopefully nobody noticed when you were out, right?" Rohan patted her on the head. "Just be more careful going forward. Personally, I don't mind, but you're a noble's personal attendant. You have an image to keep up. Understood?"
The way he'd said it, first the jab, then the soft landing, made Mila's ears droop.
She felt embarrassed about the criticism, but the seemingly caring follow-up left her off-balance and unsure what to do with herself.
"My lord, I…" Mila didn't finish the sentence. She turned and bolted. "I'll go right now!"
She jogged all the way to the bathroom, sniffing herself along the way. Sure, beastfolk did have a bit of a natural scent, but she kept herself clean every single day.
She sniffed again. Nothing unusual. Nothing at all.
Mila was completely baffled. But if her lord said it, he must have had a reason.
[Mila — Obedience 36% — Early Trust]
When Mila came back after her bath, Rohan had his answer.
The obedience test had worked.
"There we go. That's how it should be, keep it up from now on." He made his voice sound slightly lofty, but with just a touch of approval mixed in. "I do enjoy the fresh scent of a fox-girl."
Mila gave a small curtsy and replied quietly, "Yes, my lord. Mila will remember."
What is going on with this guy? Something is seriously off.
The original owner had been a brainless, lovesick pushover. This change in personality had Mila genuinely confused.
"People change." Rohan seemed to read her thoughts. "After my own people turned on me, I realized I couldn't keep going the way I was."
Mila was startled. She had no idea why he was bothering to explain himself to her. The old lord had only ever hit her or yelled at her, and had made no secret of looking down on beastfolk.
He'd bought her because of her looks, but he'd never actually touched her. Like, deep down, he still couldn't bring himself to get that close to a beastfolk girl.
Rohan picked up a letter that had arrived from the neighboring barony shortly after he'd announced the tax cut, a letter from the original owner's so-called goddess.
"Rohan Hillenford… my father still refuses to approve our marriage. But I believe you will find a way to rescue me from this. Everyone tells me to give up. I won't listen. They've listed every flaw you have, and I still think those flaws only make you more endearing. I will wait for you, no matter what. Your beloved, Selina Lorendell."
Wow. You're running your own game, aren't you?
Rohan finished reading and tossed the letter aside without a second thought. This woman was something else: calculated through and through.
Mila watched him throw it away, surprise flickering across her face.
Didn't he used to kiss every letter from Lady Selina before he even opened it? Treated them like sacred relics?
"My lord, that was…" Mila started to speak but couldn't figure out how to finish.
Rohan let out a cold laugh. "What a scheming woman. Our Mila is so much more likable."
Mila's ears shot straight up at that. She looked almost curious.
Rohan reached over and gave her fuzzy ears a gentle pinch. "Come to my room tonight."
Mila jolted at the sudden contact, her face going scarlet, her ears giving a small involuntary twitch.
"My… my lord, you want me to come to your room… is it something important?"
"Tonight, I want to find out what a fox tastes like." Rohan wasn't the helpless original owner. If he wanted something, he went for it. And hey, it was also a great way to test the obedience system.
He's finally making his move on me, isn't he?!
Oh no. This little fox is in trouble.
As a personal attendant, Mila had no right to refuse.
So that evening, Rohan finished his bath and waited for his fox-girl attendant to come serve him.