Vomit poured onto my shirt in an instant.
“?!
Damn it…
Karen!
Are you outside?!” “Young Master?
I told you not to come in— Eek?!
That filthy slave girl dares to vomit on the Young Master—!” Before Karen’s scream finished, Piel tumbled from the chair like she was sliding off it, groping the floor with both hands as she gasped and heaved up whatever was left in her stomach.
The vomiting wouldn’t stop.
It felt less like her body rejecting it and more like her terror expelling it.
And that’s where it should have ended.
But the moment she saw the vomit splattered on my clothes, Karen’s face went blank.
The next expression wasn’t anger—it was the rigid mask of family rules kicking in.
Her feet moved before her words.
Thud—!
“Guhk?!” Piel’s stomach took a kick, her small body flipping through the air and rolling to the corner of the room.
The sound of her hitting the wall was dry and crisp.
Warm liquid spread from between her legs on the floor, mixing with the vomit.
Yet Piel didn’t cry.
Like reciting an answer from memory, she dragged herself up onto her knees, hands raised straight above her head.
She didn’t look straight ahead.
She didn’t close her eyes.
Her trembling body stayed as it was, while her hands rubbed together in the air.
A body begging forgiveness before judgment, awaiting punishment before it was given.
This wasn’t a simple reaction.
It was discipline.
Brainwashing.
The only survival method this world had taught her.
“I-I’m sorry…
Forgive me…
I’m sorry, forgive me, forgive me, forgive me…” “Pi…
el.” “I’m sorry, forgive me, forgive me, forgive me, I’m sorry, forgive me, forgive me, forgive me, I’m sorry, forgive me, forgive me, forgive me—!” Karen’s voice was ice-cold.
“A filthy slave dares do that and beg forgiveness?
Young Master, this is blatant treason.
As your attendant, I will dispose of this trash immediately.” At those words, Piel’s eyes flickered for a moment.
Eyes that already knew her place in the order of death.
Her hands rubbed together even faster, madly.
Skin peeled, blood smeared, but she couldn’t stop.
Karen sneered.
And grabbed the fox girl’s hair like she was yanking up a kitten by the scruff.
In that moment, I raised the fork I’d just used for the meat.
“Y-Young…
Master?” I said nothing.
Instead— Stab.
The fork pierced straight through the back of my hand.
“Kyaa, kyaah?!
Y-Young Master!” “Shut up.
My body’s burning up right now…gotta start cooling off.
So stay quiet.” Blood dripped from my palm to the floor, drop by drop.
This was punishment I’d inflicted on myself as a doctor—for my arrogant, foolish mistake in repeating the same error.
With a sigh, a few seconds later, I yanked the fork from the back of my hand.
“Karen.” “Y-Yes!
Young Master.” “And speak properly.
You’re not an attendant—you’re a watcher, right?” Karen’s mouth snapped shut.
“And you kicked Piel not out of worry for me, but because you were pissed that filth splashed on a valuable product you plan to sell later.
Right?” Her hand froze mid-motion.
Until now, she’d calculated that passing off her cruelty as ‘for Lucas’s sake’ would secure her position and earn trust.
The original Lucas would have lapped up that hypocritical loyalty and grinned like an idiot.
The moronic version that would beam at the slightest flattery.
But the one before her now wasn’t that Lucas.
I pointed the bloody fork tip at Karen and continued.
“From now on, if anyone lays a hand on my people while pretending it’s ‘for my sake,’ no matter what—it won’t end like this.” “Y-Your people…?
Haha…
Young Master, surely you’re not tossing aside a first-class maid like me for that trash slave—” “Correct.
I trust her more, so shut up and listen.” The moment I finished, Karen could do nothing.
Her face showed she knew her calculations had failed, that she’d lost completely.
And I approached Piel, who was frozen in pain, and checked her soiled body.
“M-Master…
I’m…
filthy…” “So?” “S-So…
If it’s the vomit on the floor, I’ll lick it all up…” Her eyes trembled at the corners.
This child wasn’t speaking from guilt, but from conditioning.
I thought that would finally calm my anger, but damn, it dragged my old temper out after all this time.
“Piel.
You shut up too.” “Y-Yes?!” Piel flinched.
“Do you think your body belongs to you?
You’re mine.
And my people…
are soon my ‘family’.” “F-Family…?” “The vomit on the floor, the urine—all of it, I’ll clean it up.
So don’t act like a criminal.
If you do…
I might really stab my hand again.” Piel’s eyes widened hugely at the blood flowing from my hand.
But before she could even be surprised, I issued the next order.
“Karen.
Prepare hot water.
Piel and I are bathing together.” “Y-Yes?!
Young Master, surely not with a slave—” “Ah, fuck, I said shut up.” Even if she was only half-noble, she still carried the blood of a prestigious house.
For a human of such status to enter the same bath as a slave who washed in cold water from a livestock trough?
Karen’s face hardened in an instant.
The denial screamed across her features before she could even open her mouth.
But she couldn’t argue.
The Young Master clutching his hand, blood dripping steadily.
The master barely containing his rage, veins bulging.
That face was one no one should touch.
“From now on, anyone who says ‘no,’ ‘I don’t want to,’ or ‘someone like me…’ to my words gets a fork through my hand again.
Yell if you want to see it—or shut up and move.” With that one sentence, the air in the room flipped completely.
No one dared stop me.