At first, I just thought I'd thrown it too far.
Piel had been going full 'pet fox mode' lately, madly fetching the trays I tossed like a maniac, to the point where my arm was about to give out first…
Honestly, that last throw was right before my grip gave out and my muscles felt like they were ripping apart. I flung it with all my might, thinking, 'Just chuck it far away and take a quick break.'
So even when it took a bit longer than usual, I shrugged it off.
The kid had stamina for days; me falling behind was par for the course.
…But something was off.
No matter how long I waited, she really wasn't coming back. It was ridiculous.
Piel should've bounded out in five seconds flat like always, but there wasn't even a sign of her.
So in the end, with my arms shaking, I dragged myself up, muttering, 'She must've crashed into the bushes again…' and went to check. That's when I saw it.
For real.
Hell had unfolded right there, spot on.
Syl Argent.
The psycho bitch from the original story [Vengeful Goddesses] who ruined noble ladies one by one under the excuse of 'playing friends,' driving them all away in the end.
Then afterward, with nothing left but slaves, she called them 'friends' and smashed them like toys.
That Syl Argent was right now, in front of my annex, with my slave.
And—
With that same ever-bright expression, she spat out words that made you think 'Yeah, that's not human' with just one sentence, all wrapped in that smile.
Syl lifted an axe and casually lopped off her own slave's finger.
What she did next was even more outrageous.
She tried to make Piel do the exact same thing.
In that instant, I threw the original story and the future to the wind and charged straight in, snatching the axe from Piel's hand in one swift motion.
At the same time, glaring at that 'sister' who had crossed a line she never should have, the words that burst from my mouth were just one.
"You fucking bitch."
"Fuc…king?"
"Yeah. That's exactly what you just made my slave do. Got it?"
The moment I finished speaking, Syl's perpetual smirk shattered in an instant.
Flustered? Shocked?
Whatever it was, her face cracked beautifully.
Original Lucas in the story? He never could've done this.
True to his bastard young master form, he'd just kiss up to his siblings, never once standing up—not even when the slaves he tormented tortured him alive later. What a loser.
But the one inside me now wasn't that Lucas.
She touched my slave? That's crossing the line, plain and simple.
And I wasn't the type to let anyone cross it lying down.
The slaves behind Syl, decked out in flashy dresses to her taste, and even Karen watching from behind me—all stood frozen, mouths agape.
Like they'd just witnessed something they'd never dreamed of seeing in their lives.
But I? Totally unfazed.
No, calmer than ever.
With one arm, I pulled Piel—who had leaped into my embrace and started sobbing—tight against me. With the other, I leisurely lowered the axe and continued.
"Don't you know the Argent Family's basic rules? Formal heir or not, hands off another person's slave."
"Ha! A bastard like you dares lecture me on family rules?"
Syl's voice wasn't playful anymore.
The soft shell peeled away, revealing the pent-up rage underneath.
"What, think getting one slave makes you our equal?"
Syl strode forward.
The needle bundle she'd scooped up from the ground gleamed like a predator's fang hunting fresh flesh.
So I kindly imparted a little lesson.
Whoosh—!
"Eek?!"
The axe cleaved the air, stopping dead 'right in front' of Syl's scalp.
So close that a single strand of hair sliced by the wind drifted to the ground.
Syl froze solid on the spot.
I looked down at her calmly and said,
"Yeah. Since my sister's forgotten the family rules and is acting up, I'm teaching her as a good little brother. Isn't that… my duty as the sibling of such a pathetic sister?"
As those words landed, any trace of a smile vanished from Syl's lips—
Thud.
The sound of her knees hitting the ground.
Whether from shock making her collapse, fear buckling her legs, or impact sapping her strength.
Either way, the Argent Family's prized next heir had crumbled completely before me.
I watched her and drew a faint smile on my lips.
A smile like I genuinely wanted to pat her head and say, "Good job learning, sis."
"Y-You psycho… Are you really Lucas?"
I shrugged.
"Who else would I be? Think I got body-swapped or something?"
"Bo…dy-swapped? Whatever. You really think you can handle the fallout from this?!"
When she'd first approached with that needle bundle, Syl must've thought I was the same 'pathetic Lucas' from her memories.
Probably planned to shove it in me for some rank-pulling discipline.
But the one getting disciplined turned out to be Syl.
Supported by her slaves, she glared at me, face twisted in fury.
That glare screamed she was ready to lunge right then.
Then she spotted Piel trembling and clinging to me in my arms, and spoke up.
"Lucas Argent… Kneel and hand over Piel right now. Do that, and I might forgive you."
"Hand over Piel?"
"Yeah. That kid's gonna play with me from now on. Too good for trash like you."
I felt Piel shuddering in my arms.
Syl, seeing it, smirked like a victor and reached out.
"So hand her over. Then… I won't say a word to Father."
Silence toward Father.
The moment those words hit, one face flashed in my mind.
Agram Argent.
Current head of the Argent Family.
The underworld ruler who gripped the entire shadow of the Abellan Empire in his fist.
Even in the original story, a 'monster too vague to describe in detail.'
After Piel became the hero and Evelyn took the throne, even those two hesitated to confront him head-on. This world's final boss.
In simple terms, a guy with the power to flip the kingdom but no need to bother. The ultimate black curtain.
And if Syl, the official family heir, reports this scene to Agram?
I'd be tossed onto a bed of thorns to die, written off as 'just a bastard, so it's fine'—no surprise there.
Coldly calculating, the rational choice here was to hand Piel over as Syl demanded.
All logic pointed that way.
So, I smiled.
Grin.
"…You're smiling?"
And immediately replied.
"Yeah. Go tell him."
"W-What?!"
"Master…!"
Piel clutched my sleeve, trembling.
I lightly stroked her head and fixed my gaze on Syl.
"Go tattle to your dad. Tell him your bastard little brother had you groveling and snatched your axe during playtime."
At those words, Syl's face collapsed in a flash.
The slaves watching from behind held their breath; Karen covered her mouth, face draining of color.
Syl finally spoke, lips quivering, voice shrill like shattered glass.
"You… have you lost your mind—"
But I held Piel tighter and continued slowly.
"Why stop? Hurry up. Go cry that your 'bastard brother humiliated you.' With your dad's temper… he'll decide after hearing it once."
Syl's face choked like a leash yanked tight.
Seeing that terror hit her oddly calmed me further.
A line from my past life crossed my mind.
If you're gonna grovel to live, might as well die standing.
So I curled my lips up.
That truth still held in this world.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
If it was a battle to crush Syl's mentality, I was undefeated.
In the end, even with her cruel nature, Syl was still just a kid.
One line from me, and tears welled up visibly.
Then she fled, burying herself among her slaves, hiking up that pricey dress in a panic.
It was so pathetic… Back in my room, I rolled on the bed like a dying caterpillar, cackling for ages.
Winning against a kid feel childish?
Not at all.
Even factoring in my mid-thirties past-life age, it felt damn refreshing.
She learned firsthand what happens when you tug a sleeping lion's whiskers.
…Problem was, the one I poked wasn't a lion, but the daughter of this world's dragon-tier black curtain.
"So… you picked a fight with Syl Argent without any preparations?"
"Yes, that's right."
She came at me first— what was I supposed to do?
Throw a tantrum at my slave, shove an axe in her hand, tell her to chop off a finger, and I'm supposed to kneel like original Lucas whimpering, "Eek, sorry, sis…?"
Get real.
Better to smash an egg against a rock if it's gonna crack anyway.
Even if that rock's the monster Agram Argent.
And now… the aftermath was rolling in.
Any moment, Argent soldiers could bust down my annex door as payback for defying the official heir—no shock there.
So I needed at least minimal defenses now.
In this palace, one spot to move without family eyes: just one place.
And so…
"That's why, Princess. Lend a hand, yeah?"
I was in the Ashen Hand hideout led by Evelyn.