A dry chuckle escaped Benedict's lips. "Tame the Heroines? What kind of sick joke is that?"
He glanced at the system interface still hovering in front of him. The words [Main Quest: Tame the Heroines] were clearly displayed.
"System, what do you mean by 'tame the Heroines'?"
[Simple, Master! You just have to make the Heroines yours. Steal them away from the protagonist!]
Benedict clicked his tongue in annoyance. That wasn't what he meant.
"I mean, do I have to make them fall in love with me or something?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed.
[Nope! You have to make them yours—to the point they'd willingly give up everything they have for you.]
A disbelieving smirk tugged at Benedict's lips.
Make them completely mine? That's insane… totally insane…
"System, you do realize I'm not some blond scumbag playboy, right? Why the hell did you pick my soul for this Villain's body? Wasn't there anyone better?"
[There are reasons why you were chosen, Master! But we can't reveal them… not yet.]
We? Not yet? What the hell does that mean…?
This wasn't just a typical transmigration. The system definitely had a bigger plan it wasn't telling him about.
Suddenly, the whisper came again. Right next to his ear.
"Make… them… regret…"
"Shut the fuck up, Benedict!" he snapped, trying to silence the maddening voice in his head.
Creak—
The sound of the door slowly opening broke the tension. Benedict turned toward it and saw a maid standing there, clearly startled by his sudden outburst.
Ah, damn it.
She was carrying a food tray. The moment she saw him, she quickly entered the room and placed the tray on his table, head bowed low.
Then, without a word, she turned to leave in a hurry, obviously wanting nothing to do with him.
But before she could escape, Benedict called out, "Hey."
She froze in place, caught mid-flight.
"Come here," he said calmly.
Her head turned stiffly—almost mechanically—toward him. Her violet eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her expression filled with fear.
Benedict raised an eyebrow.
Just how bad are the rumors about me that even this is the reaction?
The maid walked toward him with slow, hesitant steps, her gaze locked to the floor.
"Y-yes, young master?" Her voice trembled.
"Are you new here?" Benedict asked. He had searched through the Benedict's memories—he didn't recall seeing this girl before.
"Y-yes, young master," she replied, clearly frightened.
He casually lifted a hand to rub his forehead, which had started throbbing again.
"Hiiiek!" the maid yelped, flinching violently at the gesture.
Benedict blinked, confused. All he did was touch his own damn head. Yet her reaction was like he'd raised a whip.
Are the rumors that bad? What the hell did the original Benedict do to deserve this level of fear?
"I was just rubbing my forehead. Why are you so scared?"
"A-ah! I'm sorry, young master! I didn't mean—"
"Enough," he interrupted. "I just want to ask you something."
The maid gave a small nod. She looked like a kitten cornered by a wolf.
"What year is it? Don't ask questions. Just answer."
"I-it's the year 1298, young master."
So that means I'm fifteen now?
Hmm… That gives me two years before the Academy arc begins and I cross paths with the Protagonist. Enough time to prepare.
The maid glanced at him nervously as he fell deep in thought. The other servants had warned her on her first day: Stay far away from Benedict. Don't look him in the eye. Don't talk unless spoken to.
"Hey," he said again, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Do you know the rumors about me?"
She flinched.
Is he going to punish me? Is this a test? Is he going to torture me now?
"P-pardon?"
"I said don't ask questions." Benedict's voice was sharp but calm.
The maid stiffened, bracing herself. She clenched her jaw and shut her eyes.
"A-all I've heard is… that you're cruel, young master. That you mistreat the maids, sleep around, you're a pervert… scum, useless, trash, vermin…"
Holy shit…
Benedict's eyes widened. She's new, and yet she already knew all that? How much worse must it be for the ones who've been here longer?
The maid noticed his expression and started trembling again. She must've thought he was angry. That he was about to lash out.
"Do you believe those rumors?" he asked, genuinely curious. Maybe… if she didn't, she could be an ally.
"O-of course not, young master!" she said quickly. Anything to avoid being punished.
A small smile crept onto Benedict's lips. He stroked his chin as he watched her reaction.
Looks like I've found my first ally.
"Good, very good."
The maid peeked up at him. His smile caught her off guard—she hadn't expected someone like him to smile like that.
She let out a nervous giggle. "U-um, may I go now, young master?"
"Oh, of course no."
The smile vanished from her face instantly.
"Relax. I just have one more question."
"W-what is it?" she asked cautiously.
"Do you have any proof to support the rumors about me?"
She glanced up, clearly thinking hard.
"U-uh… no, not really," she said quietly, as if only now realizing the rumors might not be true after all.
Benedict grinned.
Finally, someone with a brain!
"Exactly. See, I told—"
"Oh! There is one!" she interrupted.
"…Huh?"
"They say you… um… keep girls' underwear in your desk drawer."
"What the fuck?!"
Benedict practically jumped.
What kind of sick freak would do that?! Who the hell started that rumor?!
"That's not true!"
"Y-yeah, I believe you, young master! I'm sure it's not true!" she said, quickly nodding.
"You don't look like you believe me," Benedict narrowed his eyes at her.
"I swear I do! Really!" she nodded harder, like her life depended on it.
"Go ahead and check my drawer then. There's nothing in there," he said, pointing toward his desk. He didn't want her scared of him anymore—especially if she could be useful.
The maid hesitantly stepped toward the wooden desk. Her hand hovered over the drawer.
"Are… are you sure, young master?"
"Yes. Just open it."