Click.
The door shut and Anderson sighed, then walked down the stairs with the tray in his hands. "What was that stuff you made, master?" he heard upon reaching the hallway that led to the kitchen. He tilted his head and found a maid who looked remarkably curvaceous. Life truly was unfair—while Lenora struggled with her B to barely C cup bosom, this young woman was endowed with an E cup. And she didn't disappoint in the curve of her hips either.
She had blonde hair and green eyes. She was the very maid who had been bringing him food mysteriously ever since he'd arrived at this godforsaken place. Since the moment he caught her red-handed sneaking around the mansion, she had remained within the premises of the mansion, though she moved about like she owned the place rather than served in it.
She didn't obey any direct orders from him, stating her only job here was to clean the mansion and provide his daily food. He didn't complain since that was enough for now, and frankly, he had bigger problems to worry about than a rebellious servant.
"Soup," he said matter-of-factly. He had asked her to make it earlier, but she had refused, stating he didn't have the right to order her around. So he just made it himself, much to her apparent horror.
"What?! That was just some rubbish concoction of random ingredients! You literally destroyed my kitchen in the process!" He tilted his head to find an annoyed-looking woman glaring at him with her hands on her hips.
Well, wasn't she brazen?
"Here, hold this for a second," he said, extending the tray toward her. She looked at him with a deep frown, suspicion flickering in those green eyes, but eventually took it from his hands with obvious reluctance.
"Now be a dear and do your job," he said, stroking her hair for a second before turning around and walking toward the staircase.
"Wait! Young master!" He ignored the maid's protests and made his way toward another room where he would be sleeping until Lenora recovered. Her voice echoed behind him, but he was already mentally moving on to more pressing matters.
Anderson sighed.
According to his inherited memories, the entrance examination at the academy started three months from now. And according to his memories of the game concerning the character called Anderson—the portly man whose body he now inhabited—he would die in the first year at the academy, killed by his very own fiancée. Not an end he wanted for himself, since he had no intention of following that particular script.
As much as he wanted to escape the whole plot entirely, he couldn't. He would only be shooting himself in the foot, since he could only get as strong as he needed to be within the academy's walls. There was also the invasion from the outside world looming on the horizon—if he didn't get strong enough, he wouldn't survive that either. Plus there was that revenge he had to exact on the royal family for what they'd done to the original Anderson, and there was also the mysterious Keeper. He still didn't know what exactly the Keeper wanted from him, and the system had stubbornly refused to respond to his commands. All he could do now in preparation was get stronger, much stronger.
Given that reality, he currently had just three months to shed all this excess weight and reach a considerable level of strength. He had some ideas about how to get started on that grueling process, and he planned to begin tomorrow at dawn. No more delays, no more excuses.
With Lenora at full strength supporting him, he would be able to accomplish things much faster.
Anderson sighed again.
He twisted the knob that led to his temporary room and it opened into an expansive space that felt far too grand for someone in his precarious position. He walked step by step toward the massive four-poster bed, and just as he reached it—
"Haa~" He collapsed in sheer relief, his body sinking into the soft mattress.
He felt like he had been carrying a tremendous weight on his shoulders all this while. He really needed to do something about this pathetic excuse for a body, and soon.
Come to think of it, what should he do about his fiancée? If things proceeded according to the game's storyline, then she would definitely fall for the main character and dispose of him without a second thought. He couldn't try to break the engagement—Anderson had already attempted that route, and it had resulted in his exile to this remote mansion with severely limited options and resources.
Well, he supposed he would just have to avoid her until he became strong enough to handle whatever she might throw at him.
...Or
"Lenora." In that instant, a wild idea blazed to life in his head.
Thinking about it, he still had no clear idea what exactly Lenora's abilities were, and he couldn't remember her from the game at all, which meant she probably hadn't been involved with the main plot. Maybe—just maybe—he could make her even stronger than she already was, then get her into the academy alongside him. That way, for the crucial first year, she could protect him long enough for him to get stronger.