The tavern door slammed open with a bang, rattling mugs and silencing idle chatter.
A rotund merchant burst out, his face flushed crimson, breath coming in furious huffs.
"Highway robbery!" he bellowed, startling pigeons and a few drowsy drinkers near the entrance. "I swear on my mother's grave—I'll never set foot in this cursed town again! Taxes like that? Might as well hand over my goods to bandits!"
Heads turned, but no one looked surprised. It was the fifth time that day, after all.
The door swung shut behind him, and the room buzzed with tired murmurs—more annoyance than concern. Then, as if on cue…
A young man stepped through the same doorway, unhurried and composed.
His attire spoke of wealth and vanity, an embroidered coat, polished boots, and a golden brooch catching the tavern's flickering light.
He watched the merchant vanish into the crowd with a satisfied smile.
"That's the fifth one today," he said cheerfully, eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Butler Zhen, how many more are left?"
The man beside him, tall and stoic, gave a quiet sigh. "Young Master, my name is James. Not Zhen."
Lukas gave a dismissive wave. "Does it matter?"
James straightened. "It doesn't."
"Exactly!" Lukas grinned. "That's what I like about you—so agreeable! Come now, Butler Jack. We've got a few more merchants to chase off before dinner."
James didn't bother correcting the name this time.
As they stepped outside, the midday sun bathed the town in warm light. Lukas stretched his arms wide toward the sky, spinning once on his heel.
"Ah… what a subarashi world! Magic, power, destiny itself… don't you agree, System?"
He was speaking to no one. Or rather, to someone only he could see.
James winced, subtly glancing around to ensure no one was close enough to overhear.
The servants had learned to ignore these outbursts.
Still, it didn't stop the butler from worrying—not about Lukas's antics, but what they meant.
From the beginning, the young master had shown a... unique disposition. There were harmless pranks at first.
Then came the obsession with stolen undergarments. And the bathhouse incidents. The staff had nearly gone on strike twice.
Now, it was "System this," and "System that," followed by melodramatic declarations and suspicious scribblings in a self-made "quest log."
James had long accepted that his title of Butler was just a suggestion in Lukas's world.
These days, he answered to whatever name the young master felt like using.
Zhen, Jack, Jefferson the Fourth, it didn't matter.
He had grown numb to it.
That is, until Lukas shouted in the dead of night: "SYSTEM, NO! WHY SYSTEM?!"
At this point, James was convinced: the boy had completely lost his mind.
Even the lord and lady, dignified as they were, had quietly acknowledged it during tea.
"He's… special," his mother had said gently, clasping her cup with trembling fingers.
"Touched by something," his father had added with a sigh. "Let's hope it's magic and not... something else"
And yet… for all his quirks, Lukas was undeniably clever. Dangerously so.
His schemes defied logic, yet somehow succeeded.
Merchants left humiliated and in loss.
Adventurers quit in shame and defeat.
Rumors swirled that the young heir of Ainsworth could see into fate itself.
Whether it was divine favor or sheer dumb luck, no one knew.
What was clear was though, Lukas von Ainsworth was the most unpredictable force in the kingdom.
The family mansion came into view, its gleaming marble steps and intricate columns casting long shadows over the courtyard. Elegant. Intimidating. And thoroughly familiar.
Lukas marched up the path like a general returning from conquest, chin high, boots clicking proudly.
"Butler Kane," he said without pause, "what day is it today?"
James, unfazed, replied smoothly. "Today is the fifth of March, Young Master. It is also your younger sister's thirteenth birthday."
Lukas stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes widened with an intensity that sent a chill down James's spine.
> "Ah… the age where suitors crawl out of the woodwork," he whispered, eyes gleaming, along with a disturbing mix of awe and possessiveness flickering across his face.
James winced. That gleam never meant anything good.
"I hope Mother and Father haven't picked out a suitor already," Lukas muttered, fists tightening at his sides.
"There's no way I'm letting just anyone have her. Not without my approval. He'll have to meet my standards. All of them."
James gave a courteous nod, his face composed.
Inside, however, his thoughts stirred grimly.
Young Master… no matter how much you scheme, plot, or pretend the world revolves around you… there's no universe where you can marry your sister.
He kept those words to himself, of course. Because this was Lukas von Ainsworth.