After that, the old bastard and I went to see the prince’s butler to ask if we could borrow two horses to get home.
But the silver‑haired butler only shook his head.
“Lord Glamorgan, Young Master, I’m terribly sorry. There isn’t a single usable horse left on the estate.”
Turned out Uncle Hammer lived on our family’s lands, basically half‑retired. Aside from two nags for pulling the carriage, there were only two good riding horses for Uncle Hammer and Margaret.
But since Margaret and the prince both weren’t that into riding, those two fine horses had just been lent out to nearby nobles for breeding...
As for the two carriage nags?
Ahem... earlier, because the two stallions had been locked in the stable for too long with nowhere to vent their energy... those two restless studs had taken to “creating life” with the two nags whenever they got the chance.
You can imagine the result...
Both nags were now heavily pregnant, and that was exactly why Uncle Hammer had lent the studs out as well.
If they were going to be locked in the stable anyway, might as well let them put their “talents” to use, right...
In the end, even though we kept saying we could just walk back, the butler still felt guilty and managed to find us an old yellow ox and an ox cart.
The old bastard and I exchanged a look, then still climbed onto the cart.
Having a ride was better than walking, after all.
So that’s how the old bastard and I ended up sitting on a pile of straw in the ox cart, heading home.
The old cow plodded slowly along the country path, dragging the wooden cart. The old bastard and I sat side by side in silence.
I didn’t know how long had passed before the old scumbag patted my shoulder and said heavily,
“Son, you’ve grown.”
Seeing that unusually serious look on his face,
my heart jolted first, then instinctively went on alert.
Because the last time I’d seen this guy act this serious was when I was twelve.
Yeah. The time he tricked me into the basement!
So I had to stay sharp. Crank my vigilance up to maximum.
I shook off his hand and said warily,
“What dirty scheme are you cooking up this time? Spit it out.”
“Ah, my good son, why do you always have to assume the worst of your loving father?”
The old bastard shook his head, sounding deeply hurt.
“Can’t a father compliment his dear son once in a while for no reason?”
Not normal. Absolutely not normal.
Hearing him talk in such an unprecedentedly normal tone, I felt like I’d been dropped into an ice cavern, the chill running from my heart all the way down to my heels.
There was a plot. There had to be a plot.
Every time he used this tone with me, it never ended well.
Thinking that, I deliberately scooted my butt a little farther away, widening the distance between us.
“Son, why are you sitting so far from your dad?”
The old bastard made as if to move closer.
“Stop, stop, stop! One more step, you pervy old man, and I’m throwing hands!”
I dropped into a basic fighting stance, ready to jump off the cart at any time.
“B‑but sweet son, your dad hasn’t even done anything yet.”
He sounded utterly innocent.
“Cut it with the ‘sweet son’ crap... it’s so fake it’s disgusting.”
I waved him off in disgust.
Bottom line: I’d sooner believe in actual ghosts than believe a single word out of my dad’s rotten mouth.
Colonel Aureliano whatever... seventeen mistresses... you were obviously talking about yourself, weren’t you? Still daydreaming about your perfect harem, all harmony and no knives... what kind of fantasy is that!
If you’re so amazing, why do you only have my stepmom now?
Huh? What, you got a side chick too?
That’d be perfect. I’d go catch you in the act with my stepmom right now!
If I don’t make you kneel on a washboard till your knees are ruined this time, I’m not human!
“Oh, see, you should’ve just said so. Pretending to be serious this long almost killed me.”
Sure enough, as soon as I said that, the old bastard instantly went back to his usual lazy, rascal self.
He crossed one leg over the other, grabbed the reins, and flopped back into the straw.
“Alright, brat. Put away your fancy rookie moves. If I really wanted to beat you up, I’d do it in the blink of an eye.”
“Oh? Really? Then let’s practice a bit.”
I nodded, rubbing my fingers together until they cracked loudly, and looked at him with clear bad intentions.
“You said it yourself, old bastard. No pain, no gain.”
With that, I raised my fist.
But this time, instead of being intimidated, the old bastard just shook his head in contempt.
“Go ahead. If you can even touch me, I’ll call it your win.”
Hah. This old dog. Still talking tough—never learns his lesson.
Thinking that, I shot out a lightning‑fast punch straight at his face.
Just as my fist was about to make intimate contact with his nose—
“Gou—!”
The old bastard suddenly shouted, and at a speed my eyes couldn’t follow, yanked his belt up in one swift motion until it was level with his chest.
In an instant, he vanished from in front of me. My fist swung through empty air and slammed into the fluffy straw.
Where the hell did this old bastard go?
I hurriedly glanced left and right.
That’s when his hand appeared behind me without any warning.
He grabbed my right arm, then snaked his other arm around from behind and locked it tight around my neck.
“Brat... this is the real membrane‑magic!”
His arm tightened hard around my neck, then suddenly loosened again, releasing me.
