I smiled a little at the sight.
It reminded me of handling my first child patient in the clinic.
“Yeah.
Let’s eat together.
Something that won’t strain your body.” Piel nodded very, very slowly.
The trembling lingered, but that single small nod showed her will to survive.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ I’d bought large chunks of meat from the market just for a time like this.
According to the original setting, beastkin preferred ‘direct’ meat like whole roasts on the fire over thin, refined steaks like humans ate.
So I’d instructed the head chef to grill them crispy.
The problem?
No one paid attention to a bastard young master’s words.
So I came myself.
A knife is faster than words.
Crunch.
“Gah, argh?!
You mad—!” “Oops.
Slippery hands.” The kitchen knife was half-buried in the cook’s instep, red blood spurting out like oil droplets.
I shook off my wrist for a moment.
The memory of opening and closing human bodies dozens of times a day as a surgeon in Korea still lingered in my fingertips.
One lesson from that: skin is thinner than you think, and bones are closer than you expect.
No reason to hesitate over stabbing an instep.
The cook screamed, while my exclusive maid Karen, watching from the side, sighed with a ‘here we go again’ look.
She seemed too drained from seeing it multiple times to even be surprised.
But this wasn’t enough.
I pulled out the knife and held it out to the cook.
“Annoying, right?
Then stab me back.” “…P-pardon?” Karen flinched right beside me.
“If you have a problem, stab me too.
But—” I met the cook’s eyes and said, “You’ll handle the aftermath.
Well…
even if you do, I’m just an expendable bastard in the Argent Family, so the worst you’d get is dismemberment.
Don’t worry.
It’s just that much~.” As soon as I finished, the bloodshot fury in his eyes slowly drowned in terror.
His hand gripping the knife blade froze solid, tremors spreading from his knuckles to his elbow.
It was quite the sight.
The expression of rage melting into fear—you have to see it in person to savor it fully.
Blood pooling on the floor from the knife in his instep, yet he seemed to console himself that it could be worse.
The head chef finally grasped reality and forced a smile.
“Y-young…
Young Master.
The food…
it’ll be ready soon…” He dragged his dripping foot but bowed at a perfect ninety degrees.
Argent employed slaves really shine in moments like these.
With the promise secured, I headed back to my room with light steps.
Bastards like me weren’t allowed in the mansion’s dining hall.
I still had to eat in this single-room annex, barely bigger than a studio.
Opening the door, a small body trembled slightly on the bed.
Piel.
I pulled out a small unused dining table from the corner, set it by the bed, and added a chair opposite.
“Food’s coming, so come sit.” “…!
Y-yes, Master!” Piel scrambled to the bed’s edge.
Before her toes even brushed the floor, the door burst open.
The head chef had brought the food faster than expected.
And as expected of an Argent cook, the skill was impeccable.
A massive smoked barbecue that nearly covered my table.
Oil glistened on the crisped surface—enough to drive any beastkin mad just from the scent.
Piel would surely be thrilled.
Her eyes sparkling from the bed, face lit up like a child’s at the sight of the meat.
The thought alone made me pleased.
…Or so I thought.
“Alright, let’s eat.” “Enjoy your meal, Master.” “…Huh?” The hunk of meat was so big it blocked my view across, but something felt off.
The presence of Piel, who should have been sitting opposite, was gone.
Instead, a strange coughing-like breath came from the floor by my side.
Turning my head, there was Piel crouched on all fours.
Like a well-trained ‘pet dog.’ “Piel…?” “Yes, Master.” “What are you doing…?” “As trained, this slave has finished meal prep!” She said it with wide eyes, as if it were the most natural thing.
In that exact posture.
Palms and knees on the floor, chin slightly raised, looking up at me.
‘…What the hell?’ My mouth fell open slightly on its own.
“You’re…
going to eat like that?” “Yes!” “How?” “By eating whatever you drop while eating, Master!” “…?” My brain froze for 0.5 seconds.
This wasn’t even ‘slaves eat from the floor’ level.
It was something far more depraved and perverse.
Then Piel blinked and added naturally, “Don’t worry, Master!
I got severely punished before for picking up scraps with my hands without permission, so I won’t make that mistake again!” And with a bright face, she stuck out her tongue, mimicking a dog perfectly.