Is showing off good? Naturally.
But shouldn’t we consider the person’s wishes?
Derek didn’t want to act cool at all, yet he couldn’t help it. This wasn’t fair!
He knew forced flexing was deadly. He should’ve asked Xinzel for help. Why was his mouth so stubborn?! One wrong word, and boom—he’d shown off again?!
If slapping didn’t hurt, Derek would’ve smacked himself.
He didn’t know why he’d said that.
Was it because Teresia kept pushing him, shamelessly taking advantage? Had Witch Claudius gotten jealous and wanted to eliminate her silly, flirty little rival?
He understood love triangles, but why must women make life hard for each other? Wouldn’t peace be better?
Still, complaining wouldn’t fix this. Xinzel, give me a plan!
Derek panicked while faking calm—a busy mess.
After his act, he glanced at Xinzel, hoping.
He wanted Xinzel worried enough to offer practical advice on handling Duke Wudewen.
Sensing Derek’s gaze, Xinzel bowed slightly. “My apologies. It seems Master Derek anticipated this and already prepared a solution.”
Derek froze.
What was Xinzel babbling about?!
Was he cursed by Witch Claudius too?!
If you’re “kidnapped,” just blink at me!
But Xinzel’s admiring look seemed genuine. He’d truly decided to step back, leaving everything to Derek. “Let’s go, Master Derek. His Grace awaits in his room.”
Seriously?! Not only no help, but rushing me?!
How could Xinzel leave him alone against the mighty Duke Wudewen?!
Derek felt utterly pitiful. No one cared for poor giegie.
He didn’t want to go, but refusing was worse. Keeping Duke Wudewen waiting would only make things uglier.
…
Derek and Xinzel walked down the corridor. At its end lay Duke Wudewen’s room.
To buy thinking time, Derek slowed his steps.
Noticing his unusual pace, Xinzel sighed inwardly. *Master Derek is truly remarkable. Even facing the Duke’s wrath, he remains graceful and dignified.*
If Derek knew Xinzel’s thoughts, he’d yell: You damn servants! Stop forcing me to show off! Give me some freedom—I don’t want this!
But now, he had no time. He needed a plan before the meeting.
From recent days, Derek realized—his mouth was sharp, but had limits.
Against far stronger, higher-status figures, his tone…
Stayed arrogant.
Yet held some restraint.
Like with Xinzel, he avoided “idiot” or “bastard.”
But with regular servants? Not so much…
Even when trying to be gentle, his words turned harsh.
Point was: talking to Duke Wudewen, he wouldn’t recklessly offend.
So the real problem was saving Teresia.
If she died here, it’d worsen his chances of avoiding the doomed ending.
But how to handle this big boss?
Recalling recent interactions, Derek had never led—he’d always obeyed the Duke’s orders.
Now, to save Teresia, he must defy the Duke’s will. Just thinking about it made him feel…
This was too hard!
Yet he had no choice.
Derek weighed his odds of making the Duke yield.
Had he ever swayed Duke Wudewen’s views? Or held the upper hand?
Seemingly… yes. But when?
Ah—his first day reborn. Kana should’ve died, but his interference changed everything. The Duke hadn’t even gotten angry.
What was the key?
Derek guessed he’d accidentally pleased the Duke’s twisted tastes.
So the breakthrough was catering to Duke Wudewen’s warped personality?!
Damn, this was brutal!
He’d dealt with R18 game romance before, but now he had to maintain an evil uncle’s favor?!
Misery choked him. No retreat left…
Before reaching the grand door, Xinzel stopped. Derek stood alone before it.
Staring at the ornate, vivid wood, Derek exhaled sharply.
Time for battle!
A knock later, a commanding voice boomed: “Enter.”
Derek’s face stayed stern, but his heart raced.
He stepped forward into the chilling room.
The door shut behind him.
Watching Derek vanish, Xinzel placed a hand on his chest and prayed.
…
Crossing the threshold, Derek was swallowed by luxury—gold and splendor everywhere.
In the vast room’s center, Duke Wudewen sat silently, studying him.
After a pause, the Duke spoke.
“Derek, you’ve been in the capital three years with me. What do you think of our ducal house?”
“Full of class. Noble and elegant.”
“And how do outsiders see us?”
“With deep reverence.”
“Exactly—reverence! In Loste, the capital, even across Doranbar Kingdom, none dare defy Yuri Wudewen’s will. Royalty hesitates before me. Do you know why they revere me?”
“You’re one of the world’s strongest.”
“One reason. Power matters, but true authority comes from instilling fear! I make them tremble at my sight—no trace of defiance!”
The Duke’s voice thundered.
Seeing his villainous father flare up, Derek nearly bolted.
Luckily, his cold face hid his terror. If the Duke saw fear, scolding would follow.
“I thought you grasped this well. Punishing that servant. Trampling that fool noble on Jade Golden Phoenix Street. Two weeks ago, his father crawled here like a dog to apologize—I was so pleased. But now? Why does that maid show no fear of you? Are you being too kind? Derek, gentleness is weakness!”
The Duke roared.
“Father, her name is Teresia Shalier.”
Derek forced down his fear to say this.
Hearing Teresia’s full name, the Duke laughed in anger. “Who she is—does it matter?!”
“Father, the Holy See of the Holy Kingdom has a new Defender Knight: Bisca Shalier. Intel says she’s Teresia’s aunt.”
“So you think our house must coddle a maid to please some Holy Kingdom trash?!”
The Duke’s face twisted. Magic flames ignited in his palm!
Derek wanted to flee.
But retreating now meant worse punishment.
He had to push forward.
He’d expected this rage—Witch Cult followers hated the Holy See. Teresia’s ties would enrage the Duke.
Yet to execute his plan, he needed to mention Bisca Shalier.
“Coddle? Father, are you joking? Why would we grovel to the Holy See’s scum?”
Derek smirked, dripping with disdain and mockery.
The furious Duke paused, confused by the sudden shift.
Inside, Derek was still panicking. But he leaned into the act!
Cursed by the witch, he was weirdly good at this.
No resistance—just go all in!
Show off!
Overact!
When it came to flexing, Derek feared no one!
