The following morning, Tristan woke up to noise coming from the living room.
This time it wasn’t the sound of the three women tearing into each other. There was a man’s voice mixed in, loud and angry, and it sounded like he was the one being pushed around.
Tristan lay still for a moment, listening not wanting to believe that this was his life now - sleeping and waking up with chaos.
[Ding!]
Lysander’s sweet voice drifted into his head, lighter than usual.
"Good morning, Host. You should prepare yourself properly from today. You have entered the real mission era."
Immediately after that, the panel appeared in front of his eyes.
**[Daily Task]**
Get to know your wives.
Requirement: Learn one personal detail about each of the three wives (excluding their names).
**Reward:** Mysterious Wooden Chest
**Penalty for failure:** Host will suffer from strong mouth odor for 24 hours. The odor becomes especially foul and noticeable whenever he speaks to his wives.
**Deadline:** 24 hours
Tristan’s face immediately tightened as his eyes moved down the glowing panel until they landed on the penalty.
His expression immediately turned cold.
"What kind of penalty is that?" he muttered with clear contempt.
Strong mouth odor for twenty-four hours, and it would become especially foul whenever he spoke to those three women? The mere thought was offensive.
In his previous life, people used to hold their breath just to catch a trace of his perfume when he walked past. Court ladies had written poems about his presence. Ministers had straightened their backs the moment he entered a room. He had always carried himself with immaculate cleanliness and refinement.
The idea that he would now walk around with a foul mouth like some unwashed commoner, especially in front of those three women, was unacceptable.
Tristan’s jaw tightened.
He had no intention of failing a task this simple and suffering such a cheap humiliation.
And as an intelligent man, he didn’t just accept high penalties without information.
"What’s inside the chest?" he asked quietly. He was going to determine if the hard work was worth it.
Lysander’s voice turned playful. "Interesting things, Host. Things you will love very much. I advise you not to fail this task."
Meanwhile, the noise in the living room continued.
"What is it now?" He mumbled, already feeling tired despite the fact that he just woke up. He pushed the covers aside and stood up. He pulled a shirt over his head and walked out of the bedroom, following the voices.
What he met in the living room made him stop.
A middle-aged man with a round stomach and grey hair was standing near the door, his face was red and sweating as he shouted. On the floor around him were three men who looked like hired thugs. All of them were groaning, holding their stomachs, faces, and ribs in pain. It was clear they had taken a serious beating.
Meanwhile, the three women looked completely unbothered.
Nadia sat on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, calmly polishing her nails like she was in a beauty salon. Talia was on a mat in the corner, moving through yoga stretches with slow, controlled movements, her thick hair tied up loosely. And Cora sat in the armchair with the television remote in her hand, her eyes fixed on the screen as if the injured men on the floor did not exist.
Tristan’s frown deepened.
"What is going on here?" he asked.
The middle-aged man turned at the sound of his voice. His eyes landed on Tristan and his expression twisted further.
"Vincent! You finally decided to show your face. Look at what you caused me! Look at my boys!"
Tristan’s mind quickly caught the name.
Vincent.
So that was the name of the body he was currently wearing. He kept that in his mind.
Then he looked at the three women. "What happened?"
None of them answered him. Nadia blew on her wet nails. Talia moved into another stretch. Cora only raised the volume of the television a little.
The landlord continued shouting, his voice full of tired anger.
"Don’t think this is finished just because these cowards got beaten! I will bring real men next time. I will throw every single thing you own out on the street! You people refused to pay after I increased the rent, and now you have the gut to attack my boys?!"
Tristan stepped further into the room, keeping his tone calm.
"Good morning, Mr Landlord."
"What’s good about this morning, Vincent? Don’t be a hypocrite." The man shot back. Tristan nodded in understanding, then continued in his calm tone;
"I’m sorry you have to go through this. But even if you wanted to evict tenants, the proper method is to issue a quit notice and take the matter to court. Not arrive with hired men."
The man let out a short, bitter laugh. "That is not my way of doing things."
Tristan studied him for a moment. "How much is the rent you are owed? And how much do you want for your men’s injuries?" he asked still calm.
The landlord looked at him from head to toe, clearly deciding to name a figure he believed was impossible.
"Eight hundred and seventy thousand. That covers the rent arrears and compensation for my boys." He lifted his chin with confidence. "Just tell those rabid women of yours to pack their things and leave. People like you can never pay that kind of money."
The last statement hit Tristan’s pride like a physical blow. There was nothing he couldn’t afford to pay for when he was a crown prince. He met the landlord’s eyes with a hard expression.
"I will pay it." he announced.
The landlord’s mouth fell open.
For the first time that morning, real silence filled the living room.
Nadia’s hand paused over her nails.
Talia stopped mid-stretch and Cora slowly turned her head away from the television and looked at Tristan with narrowed eyes.