Lanche couldn’t use magic. But one day after waking up, he’d somehow unlocked two innate skills—Domination and Mockery.

Now, he was about to use Domination on Enami.

He had no idea what form this "domination" would take. Just the name sounded thoroughly ominous.

Out of basic human decency—and to keep his conscience clear enough to enjoy tea and sunshine—he refused to use it on humans.

But other races? Enemies? Well, if they ended up broken and battered… that wouldn’t bother him much.

Lanche smiled at Enami. "If you die, don’t blame me."

Enami’s heart clenched. He seemed utterly unreliable.

Before she could react, Lanche pressed his index finger against her forehead.

Terrified, Enami squeezed her eyes shut.

"Alright, how do you feel?" Lanche watched her intently.

Enami slowly opened her eyes, puzzled. His fingertip felt cool.

"Do you feel compelled to obey me? Like you’d go crazy without my orders?" Lanche stared hard at her.

Enami paused, then gave a slight nod.

Lanche thought for a moment. "Good. Now, slip away quietly. Wait for me at the main gate tomorrow morning."

*That simple?*

Enami almost thought he was staging a clumsy trap with terrible acting.

But since she could leave now, she didn’t argue. She nodded, then vanished through the window.

Lanche watched her go without moving. He was certain his skill had taken hold.

It *had* to work. Just like how he’d become inexplicably powerful without training—it was simply an undeniable fact.

"What’ll happen? Guess we’ll see tomorrow."

He didn’t linger. After packing his bags, he went to explore his new home. Most importantly, he needed the perfect spot for his rattan chair.

Winter was coming. Basking in the sun mattered more than ever.

Kestia, Liya, and Lekui were passionately arranging furniture, debating placements like it was a lifelong project.

Lanche just set down his little rattan chair and called it done.

---

The next morning, Lanche stepped outside the gate. Right on time, Enami waited there.

Even in daylight, she wore head-to-toe black, face covered, hiding in shadows like a ghost.

Only when Lanche’s gaze landed on her did she step forward. She was convinced now—he’d seen right through her concealment.

Lanche sized up her height. She was really quite short.

"Just to be sure…" he hesitated, "you’re… an adult, right?" He hoped the answer wouldn’t drown him in guilt.

Enami nodded silently, not stating her age.

That was enough. Lanche sighed in relief.

*No child labor. Better to exploit hopeless adults already doomed by fate.*

"Now," he asked, "why are you obeying my orders and waiting here?"

Enami hesitated. "I thought about it… Your power feels bottomless. You could’ve done anything to me but didn’t. Serving you might not be so bad."

Lanche nodded. He couldn’t confirm if Domination was at work, but she’d followed his command.

He stroked his chin. "If I told you to show me your underwear right now… would you do it?"

Enami stared at him, expressionless. Like he was trash.

*Of course not.*

*Pervert.*

Lanche nodded. No direct mind control, then. The exact effect needed more testing.

"Fine. What’s so important you’d become my servant?"

"Revenge." Enami locked eyes with him.

"Interesting." Lanche grinned.

"But I warned you—I offer zero benefits!" He pointed a finger, earnest and shameless. "Though…" he added, hands on hips, chin up, "if you perform well, maybe I’ll make exceptions."

Enami was speechless. What a heartless boss.

No salary. No insurance. Not even meals or lodging—since Lanche himself was being kept by Kestia. He was secretly hiring staff behind her back while guarding his own pocket money.

Still, after a struggle, Enami nodded.

"You’d agree to *this*?" Lanche raised an eyebrow.

"I have no other options…" Enami pressed her lips together. Alone, stranded from the Demon Continent in human lands, she’d swallowed her pride to work for this shady boss. She felt pathetic.

"*This* has to be Domination’s effect!" Lanche insisted.

Who’d be this foolish? Even college students wouldn’t accept unpaid labor with no internship certificate. Pure beast of burden.

Domination was terrifying.

"I need to return to Fokxas first. My money’s hidden there," Enami said softly.

"Go ahead. I’ve got nothing urgent." Lanche shrugged. He’d just wander the town, maybe play chess with old men. As long as Kestia didn’t need him, he was free.

Enami nodded and vanished in an instant.

Lanche headed downhill into town, greeting villagers to get familiar.

The settlement resembled a city—vegetable stalls, fruit stands, a tavern, even a shabby Mercenary Guild with carefree adventurers. The difference? No rushing carriages, no frantic crowds. Everything moved… slower.

This was the slow-paced rural life.

"Perfect," Lanche murmured, liking it more than Fokxas.

He strolled into a weapon shop. The bespectacled owner, seeing a smooth-skinned newcomer in fine clothes, beamed. "What can I get you, young master?"

Lanche knew he was being sized up as a naive noble playing at adventuring—prime target for rip-offs.

He didn’t care. Just browsing. With so many mercenaries around, he was curious about their gear.

"Winter’s coming," the owner said eagerly, showing him a sword. "Goblins raid villages often this season. Best time for new mercenaries to gain experience."

Lanche scoffed. "Goblins? I want the finest blade—to slay the mightiest dragon!"

The owner vanished inside, returning with an ornate sword. "My personal treasure," he declared, spinning wild tales to hook a sucker.

Lanche refused the "village’s finest sword" and left empty-handed.

"Then go find the legendary Holy Sword!" the owner grumbled, annoyed at wasted effort.

Lanche ignored him. As for that Holy Sword legend… he’d heard it often. Sounded utterly unreliable.