That bastard had brought Matthias here.
No—no matter how you look at it, why would you go and provoke the final boss of all people, you idiot?!
“Ha… damn it. This really isn’t helping my life. Not at all!”
Bang!
I slammed the desk, and my hand immediately went numb.
When did Matthias even leave the slave market?
I bit my lip hard and spun my pen.
But there was no way to find an answer.
Even in the original story, only a brief description of the villain’s background was given. It never explained when or how he escaped the slave market.
The only fortunate part was that this was before Matthias joined the Frombell Grand Duchy.
That was when he was said to truly start running wild.
Yeah. If that’s the case, there’s still hope.
…Is there really?
Damn it.
I’d rather just have the debt, Mother.
“Ugh…”
Tears blurred my vision.
“Miss! Dinner is ready!”
As if answering my misery, Sophia knocked lightly and entered, pushing a trolley.
I lifted my head unconsciously—and froze at the sight.
As Sophia set the table, Matthias walked in behind her.
Our eyes met.
He looked noticeably cleaner than before.
Maybe he didn’t have proper clothes—his pants ended awkwardly at his calves, despite his tall frame, making him look oddly pitiful. His ankles, where the shackles had been, were visibly sunken and bruised.
After a brief hesitation, I forced an awkward smile.
“Would you like to come over here?”
I set my pen down and moved to the table. Sitting in my prepared seat, the warm smell of stew drifted up.
“Sit down.”
“….”
At my words, the man clasped his hands politely and shuffled closer.
Sophia filled a glass with water and, after saying she would be nearby if needed, stepped out.
The man stood awkwardly in front of the table, his hands trembling as he touched the chair.
“W-what’s wrong?”
Did he not like something?!
Panicking, I looked at him—only to see his cheeks suddenly flush bright red through his messy hair.
“N-no…”
Matthias carefully touched the cloth draped over the back of the chair and murmured,
“Hand… can I touch?”
“…?”
Touch what? My hand?
As I tried to interpret his words, I realized he was staring at the chair itself with desperate caution.
“Oh, it’s fine. Just sit comfortably.”
“It’s dirty.”
After a moment of hesitation, he muttered,
“Y-yes?”
“I’m… dirty.”
I nearly jumped.
I thought he was talking about me being dirty.
Right. Always listen to the full sentence before reacting.
I exhaled and reassured him.
“No, you’re not. You just came out of a bath.”
“…Still.”
“If it gets dirty, we can just wash it.”
At that, Matthias closed his mouth tightly.
Shrinking his shoulders, he carefully dragged the chair with exaggerated caution—trying not to make a sound.
Scrape… scrape…
He finally managed to sit on the cushion, still tense as if he might break it.
I watched him quietly and picked up my cup.
Was he always this bad at talking?
No.
If anything, he was the opposite—sharp-tongued, someone who could verbally tear nobles apart without hesitation.
He was not the type to lose in conversation.
But right now… he felt far removed from the mastermind I knew.
Is it because this is before he joins the Grand Ducal family?
The classic trope.
Black hair, red eyes—the typical villain design.
And Matthias fit it perfectly.
But his behavior didn’t match at all.
He could barely form simple sentences, and even basic etiquette was nonexistent.
Who would ever imagine this timid guy would become a world-ending psychopath?
Right now, he looked more like a lost extra than a villain.
Still… maybe that’s good.
The problem seemed to be the Frombell Grand Duchy.
Whatever his personality originally was, I doubted he had always been like this.
No one is born that cruel. It must have been a combination of trauma, upbringing, and the Frombell environment that turned him into a monster.
But looking at him now…
He’s more like a scared Maltese puppy.
Always flinching, unsure.
His red eyes weren’t filled with malice—just fear of a new environment.
Even holding a spoon looked like a challenge.
He broke his shackles, so he must have strength…
But no idea how to use it.
He seemed to lack even basic common sense after a lifetime in the slave market.
There were only two possibilities.
Either this was all an act…
Or he truly had no developed sense of self.
A blank-slate younger male lead.
That sounded like something out of a fantasy novel.
But this didn’t feel like acting.
If it were acting, he should be an actor, not a villain.
I put my cup down and rubbed my chin.
Hmmm… or maybe…
Could I persuade him gently?
If there was still a chance to reform him before he fully became the Grand Duke…
Maybe he won’t kill me later?
That thought was tempting.
But still dangerous. Even if he seemed fine now, I had no idea what he would become later.
“Th-this… how do I—”
Clang!
Well.
At this point…
Let’s start with teaching him how to use a spoon.
After a few struggles, Matthias finally managed to eat stew properly.
I also returned to my seat and began eating.
“How old are you?”
He swallowed the bread he was chewing and answered,
“T-twenty.”
“Twenty?”
Wait. He’s younger than me?
From his build, I thought he was older. I was genuinely surprised.
How old was he in the original story?
Twenty-nine? Thirty?
When he clashed with the protagonist Benjamin Briggs, he must have been around that age.
So if he’s twenty now…
That means at least ten years before things go wrong.
…That’s kind of sad.
Not that I was in any position to pity anyone, but his life was clearly a path full of thorns.
Slaves from the entertainment district were treated in ways I didn’t even want to imagine.
So instead of asking how he broke his shackles, I got straight to the point.
“I need your help.”
“Help?”
Red eyes peeked through his messy hair, now curious.
We should cut his hair later.
He looked even more uncomfortable like this.
I made a mental note to ask Sophia to handle it later.
“I actually have a problem with that person you saw earlier. The one who dragged you—he’s my uncle.”
At first I considered hiding it, but there was no point. Better for him to hear it from me.
“…I know.”
“You knew?”
Matthias nodded.
Well, they do look similar except for the face. It wasn’t surprising.
“Then this will be easier. He owes me something. A debt.”
A debt of 20 billion Marni.
Damn it.
Just thinking about it made my mouth taste bitter.
“So I want to deal with him. Punish him. Whatever it takes.”
Back then I might have hesitated.
But now that I knew the truth, I couldn’t just sit still.
“Or I might die instead.”
“…Die?”
I poked at my salad with a fork and nodded.
I didn’t notice that Matthias’s expression had subtly stiffened at those words.