"Are you trying to expel me, Derek Wudewen?"

Derek’s whisper carried a threat.

He was just testing the waters.

He wanted to get used to wielding his "overbearingness"—after all, he might need it elsewhere someday.

To his surprise, the attendant was utterly terrified.

The man turned pale, his limbs went limp, and *thud*—he dropped to his knees. Bowing his head frantically, he begged, "I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t recognize the mountain before me—I had no idea it was Young Master Derek! I’ll fetch the manager immediately! He’ll attend to you personally!"

The auction house attendant lifted his head slightly, stealing a cautious glance at Derek as if seeking permission.

Seeing such an extreme reaction, Derek almost felt bad.

In-game, he’d often heard NPCs chatter about Duke Wudewen’s influence in the capital. Now, experiencing it firsthand, he realized the reality far exceeded the rumors.

*(Go.)*

Derek sighed inwardly, hoping gentle words might soothe the trembling attendant.

After all, he wasn’t some demon.

But sadly—even if he wasn’t a demon, the subtitles would still paint him as one…

"Get out."

The icy command sent chills down the spine.

The attendant scrambled away on hands and knees, vanishing into the auction house.

Derek froze for a moment, then chuckled bitterly to himself. His experience as a villain was becoming all too real.

Moments later, a plump, middle-aged man in lavish robes hurried out of the auction house.

Spotting Derek, he bowed politely, his flattery smooth and practiced. "I am Pola, manager of Sterga Trading Company. Young Master Derek, what an unexpected honor! Forgive our lack of preparation. As manager, I’ll personally make amends by hosting you myself."

"But I heard… your auction isn’t until Friday?"

Derek kept his expression cold—not by choice, but because his default face was frost.

He also noticed his words hadn’t been twisted by the curse…

His tone lacked heavy villainy. Could it be that as long as he acted arrogant enough, he’d be fine?

Derek recalled a key detail—he was Derek Wudewen, the final boss of the "Destined Arrogance" route. A villain branded with "arrogance" from birth.

"Indeed, Young Master Derek. Here’s your invitation from Sterga Trading Company." Pola presented an ornate envelope, then added with a sly smile, "But who needs formalities for someone like you? Our doors are always open. Please, step inside—I hope you’ll enjoy your time here."

Pola was a true merchant, slick as oil.

Xinzel accepted the invitation. Derek followed Pola inside.

They entered a spacious reception room. Derek sat casually; delicate pastries already adorned the table.

"Please enjoy these specially prepared treats, Young Master Derek. I’ll fetch Friday’s auction catalog for your review. Excuse me briefly." Pola bowed again. Only after Derek nodded did he retreat.

Alone with Xinzel and Teresia, Derek’s gaze drifted to the pastries—a chiffon cake draped in silky cream and fresh strawberries, its presentation exquisite.

He picked up his utensils, ready to taste it—

*Gurgle.*

A loud swallow shattered the silence.

Derek turned, stunned. Even Xinzel’s calm expression flickered.

Teresia stared fixedly at the cake, her eyes burning with longing.

Noticing Derek’s gaze, she jolted, cheeks flushing pink as she lowered her head.

*This rude little thing will become the elegant Holy Lady?!*

Derek was baffled. The contrast was so extreme, he wondered if she’d been swapped—just like he’d become Derek.

He set down his fork, rubbing his temples. "Sterga Trading Company isn’t impressive at all. These pastries? I’m sick of them. Just seeing them disgusts me. Teresia—come here."

"Me?!" Teresia blinked but obediently approached.

"I order you to eat this cloying dessert!" Derek commanded.

If she wanted it, let her have it.

If one cake could soften her hatred for him, it was more than worth it.

Besides, if she growled like that when Pola returned, his dignity would shatter.

"May I really?" Teresia’s eyes lit up, her flushed face radiating joy.

*She’s already holding my fork… ready to attack the cake.*

Derek’s gaze dropped to her hands—clutching the utensils he’d abandoned. Her eyes never left the pastry.

The Holy Lady’s resolve to eat was absolute. Denying her now would turn that resolve into murderous intent.

"Stop talking. Eat it before Manager Pola returns. Get rid of this annoying dessert."

Teresia obeyed instantly.

No hesitation. She expertly sliced the cake, forked a piece, and devoured it.

Cream melted on her tongue. The faint strawberry fragrance blended with sweet cake—a taste of heaven. Teresia felt tears well up. *Young Master Derek is truly kind!*

*He gave me this deliciousness!*

She certified his character then and there.

Her judgment was authoritative—and well-founded!

In this world, anyone who gave Teresia tasty sweets was good!

Lost in bliss, Teresia forgot herself. Her manners vanished as she wolfed down the cake, revealing her true foodie instincts.

Derek stared, wide-eyed. He lifted his teacup, sipping slowly to steady his nerves.

*The Holy Lady, Teresia… a lady?*

All he could think was:

*I don’t believe a word of it!*

*Damn game designers… so misleading!*

Watching Teresia’s wild eating, even Xinzel winced.

Training her to be an elegant—

*Ahem.* A *proper* maid would be a long road.

He frowned at Derek, his gaze deep and meaningful…