The Secret He Hides

On the way back home with cotton candy in hand.

The lady on my back was still not over her anger, apparently, as she grumbled, explaining the truths of life.

"That's why! The guys who pay a lot of money are usually the bad ones."

"Is that so, even though that person gave us meal tickets? Is he a bad person, then?"

"What?"

In the past, the lady had said this:

The one that gives you delicious food is not a bad person. If you feel that person is bad, then it's either because you have a bad eye or there's something wrong with you. She had taught me that.

As one of the model students learning from the lady's philosophy, I felt discontent with the lady's teachings and spoke out.

"The person gave you the meal ticket?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because of good work?"

Suddenly, the lady fell silent.

After a brief contemplation, she nodded in agreement.

"Then he's a good person."

"Right?"

"Still, you can't work with that person."

"Why not? If he pays well and even treats you to delicious food, there can't be anyone kinder, right?"

"That… That's because it's dangerous! He didn't even tell us what the job was."

"It was just catching insects. Really rare insects."

"Ugh… Stop lying!"

The fact is, I knew it too.

The kind of work where you can earn a million gold in just one day either involves endless shady dealings or is about hunting down a notorious monster. That's the kind of job where you earn that amount of money.

If we're being honest, I got the named criminal, but it was more because of luck.

Pascal didn't suit me well.

Since he was an antagonist appearing in the original story, I knew his weaknesses well, which allowed me to handle him easily.

I understood and agreed with the lady's worries and reprimanding, but teasing her and enjoying this kind of banter was quite fun for me.

"So what do you think?"

The lady, still hitched on my back, answered indifferently.

"About what? Paying off the debt?"

"No, I figure you're naturally pleased about that. I meant about something else."

"Something else?"

"Look over here."

I lifted my head to look around.

Despite the darkness of night, the streets were brightly lit.

Streetlights illuminated above us.

Even though it was a weekday, people bustled through the streets, and street vendors clapped their hands to attract customers.

Normally at this hour, we would have turned off the lights and gone to sleep or would have been talking in the bedroom.

I was curious about how the lady felt being outside after so long.

"How do you feel being outside after such a long time?"

The lady looked around just as I did.

The bright and lively scenery of the street.

The overly-beautiful view of the night made her eyes shine bright.

The lady buried her face in my back.

It seemed too embarrassing for her to speak frankly, hiding her face and speaking in a delicate tone. I wanted to pinch her cheeks.

"I like it."

"Do you?"

"Yeah."

I felt relieved.

Because the lady was pleased.

A part of me had been worried that the lady might dislike this outing.

After losing her legs.

She hated meeting people.

Living in a giant mansion, which felt like a cage without friends and family.

I was anxious, with my heart in my throat, worrying about how the lady locked up in her room would dread going out next time if she got scared.

Ruin's appearance along the way, too, was a concern.

I wanted to create good memories for the lady, and hearing her shy response eased the worries I had been carrying in my heart.

It felt like all the hardships had melted away.

"Then, shall we go out again next time? Visit street vendors, eat skewered chicken, what do you think?"

"…Maybe we could."

We promised each other.

Next time, we'll spend our time more enjoyably and rewardingly as we made our light-hearted way back to the mansion.

***Olivia POV***

On our way home.

Olivia fell asleep for a moment.

Perhaps she was tired from the rare outing, or exhausted from scolding me for doing dangerous work.

The spacious butler's back.

It was reliable and sturdy.

When she was young, she thought he'd grow up tiny, like a dried-up twig, but now he had grown so tall that she had to look up at him to see him—he had become an adult who could carry her.

Olivia liked Ricardo.

Not as a romantic interest, but genuinely as a person.

Ricardo was always kind.

Always ready to smile.

He would rush to her whenever she had troubles. How could she not like him?

Whether Ricardo felt the same about her, Olivia didn't know, but she liked her butler named Ricardo.

She hoped he thought well of her.

That's why she even looked for work in the newspaper, but Ricardo went and paid off all the debt, making her search meaningless.

She was genuinely annoyed.

That's why she shed a few tears today.

Not many, just a little.

Just a tiny bit of tears.

She never imagined the debt would have been paid off.

He must have done something really hard.

Olivia hugged Ricardo tightly. She remembered when her mom used to hug her like this; it made her feel good.

She hoped Ricardo would feel better too.

– Definitely.

The warm embrace was felt in her heart.

The butler who had been by her side unwaveringly for 13 years had a broad and warm back.

"Excuse me, my lady."

"Hmm?"

Ricardo's trembling voice rode on the wave of approaching sleepiness, gently echoing in her ears. The low baritone voice tempted her to sleep, but Olivia did her best to stay awake.

She felt it'd be even more embarrassing to fall asleep while being carried on his back.

"How have you been feeling lately?"

"Just so-so."

"I see."

A quietness lingered in the street.

The steady footsteps of Ricardo as he walked seemed like a lullaby. This silence wasn't too bad.

The waves of drowsiness were surging closer.

'I shouldn't sleep.'

Olivia snuggled closer to Ricardo's body.

Ricardo flinched and trembled. She didn't understand why.

Is he cold?

No, it should be warm.

It was still early autumn.

The leaves hadn't even turned colors of fall yet.

Why was he reacting like that?

Olivia was concerned about Ricardo's shivering even though it wasn't cold.

"Are you cold?"

"No."

"Then why are you trembling?"

"Well…"

Ricardo let out a sigh.

His ears were red with heat.

"It's because the lady is clinging to me too much."

"Why? Is my body cold?"

"Not at all. It's just… When you cling too much… I mean, it's kind of nice, actually. No, no. What am I even saying…"

"Is it okay?"

"Yes, you look sleepy, so please rest. I won't leave you behind, so don't worry."

Indeed, he was a butler well aware of his own condition. A capable butler who would bring what you wanted without being asked and say what you wished to hear, but today, she decided not to listen to her butler's advice.

Because it has been too long since they went out together.

"I'm not going to sleep."

Olivia firmly refused.

The sky was scattered with stars.

As they were nearing the mansion and there were fewer people around, she felt happy.

Olivia looked at Ricardo.

He was as always, dressed in his black suit. Ricardo, with his reddened face, was walking towards the mansion, trying to hide it.

Doesn't he ever get tired of that suit?

Always wearing the same clothes.

But, now that she thought about it, something was off.

A question bloomed in Olivia's head. She wondered why Ricardo wore nothing but long sleeves.

One year ago. Since that day.

Ricardo's attire had been stuck in white shirts and black suits.

Initially, she thought it's because he had some unpleasant business to keep dressing in black suits.

Later, she assumed it's because they didn't have money, so he wore his butler's uniform.

But now that she thought about it.

Even last summer.

And this summer.

Why is he wearing only that outfit?

He used to wear short sleeves.

Over the past year, Ricardo had only worn long sleeves that she had seen.

It was strange.

Disliking her own curiosity, Olivia asked Ricardo directly. She decided to ask why he wore long sleeves and if he wasn't hot.

"Ricardo, aren't you hot?"

"No. The weather today is quite cool, so it's fine."

"Really? Wear short sleeves if you're hot."

Suddenly, Ricardo fell silent.

Olivia's curiosity only grew as he gave an awkward smile without saying anything.

Did he do something when she wasn't around?

Like getting an embarrassing tattoo or maybe he's wearing a gold bracelet – Olivia was convinced by her intuition that Ricardo was hiding something underneath his clothes.

Hmm…

Olivia brought her face close to Ricardo's neck.

She thought she might see something between the collars of the shirt. Pretending to sleep, she placed her eyes on Ricardo's nape and squinted.

It was perhaps a perverse act, but curiosity was something Olivia couldn't contain.

As Ricardo walked, his shirt opened slightly to create a small gap.

And as Ricardo's body threatened to become visible through the gap in his clothes.

"Peeping is a bad behavior."

Ricardo's stern voice about wrapping up his clothing came through. She felt flushed. She thought she had acted flawlessly, but to be caught outright!

Especially since she was caught trying to steal a glance at her butler's body. Olivia couldn't raise her head.

"I didn't see anything!"

"Lies. I felt your lecherous gaze."

"I wasn't lecherous!"

"Hmm?"

"Don't look at me like that!"

Ricardo fastened his clothes.

As if to not allow even a small peek, he wrapped himself tight, and Olivia was irritated by it.

"I'm not looking!"

Olivia made a promise to herself.

Someday she would definitely see it.

Olivia was resolved in her mind.

***Ricardo POV ***

The lady was acting strangely.

Ever since we returned from the outing, she had been blatantly staring at me, outright scanning my body, leaving me with ambiguous feelings.

'What is this?'

It felt like being harassed on the subway.

Was it because a pretty girl was looking?

Weirdly, it made me feel good.

-Intently-

I moved my hand swiftly.

The lady followed my hand movements with her face.

'Oh…!'

I discovered something amusing.

When I twirled my hand left and right, the lady turned her head to follow it, and when I moved it up and down, she nodded along.

'Down. Up. Left. Right. Again.'

After repeating it dozens of times.

"Dammit!"

The lady threw her fork at me. Why is she stealing looks at someone else's body? I easily dodged and handed her a new fork.

"Lady."

"What."

"Why are you looking like that? It's unpleasant."

"I'm not feeling unpleasant."

"No, I am the one who feels unpleasant."

The lady looked up at me.

She glanced from her bed and then nodded at me.

"I'm fine."

She wasn't asking about her mood, though.

"Take responsibility for my wounded heart."

The lady continued without a retort.

She kept staring at my wrist. If looks had temperature, I might have suffered third-degree burns on my wrist from the intensity of her gaze.

Ordinarily, we would spend our evenings throwing forks and knives in rage due to bell peppers on the dinner menu, but today the lady seemed more curious about me than her food.

I was higher on the priority list than food.

Perhaps I was also entering the ranks of a successful butler.

I felt strangely good about the situation.

While I was setting the table and serving food, the lady's gaze lingered on my wrist.

She bent down, trying to glance at the inside of my sleeve.

I wrapped my finger lightly and flicked her forehead with a flick.

"Ow!"

The lady clenched her fist.

"That hurts!"

"Supposed to hurt when I hit."

"Why did you hit me!"

"Because you keep looking."

"I did not look."

"Lies."

The lady turned her head toward the window, avoiding eye contact.

"I did not look!"

When lying, looking at the window was the same as always, whether it was then or now.

"What did you not look at? You've been staring so intently at my sleeve I thought I was on fire, I nearly died of the heat."

"It's not hot. I looked so coldly."

"So you admit you looked."

The lady said nothing.

Her mouth tightly shut.

She fiddled with the stew.

"Why is there no meat in this damn stew! This is meat abuse. No respect for meat!"

"Instead, it's healthy."

"I do not consent."

I finished serving dinner by putting bell peppers in the lady's mouth.

Today, I also need to rest in my room.

That's when it happened.

The lady sipped milk and 'Ahhed,' signaling overtime work. It stopped my heart as I was awaiting the end of my shift.

"Ah, Ricardo, I will take a bath."

"What?"

What is this woman saying?

A bath at a time when the maids had left, and it was past my shift—this was a huge bomb dropped on the Confucian boy's heart. I trembled slightly.

The lady looked up at me.

With cat-like eyes, she stared at me. Her eyes wide, threatening to go on a hunger strike if I refused her intense plea.

This time I turned my head toward the window.

"Don't avoid my eyes."

"It's not that. The sun is just too glaring, that's all."

"It's 9 p.m., how can the sun still be out!"

"Sometimes it could be, couldn't it? The moon gets tired too."

"Nonsense!"

The lady loved her bath.

So much so, she would faint in the tub.

She enjoyed soaking in hot water to the point of becoming limp and protesting when it was time to come out, seriously passionate about baths.

No wonder collecting bath additives was her hobby.

It was a clean and neat hobby, but the lady was excessive.

Mint-scented bath additives.

Beef-scented bath additives.

Lamb-scented bath additives.

She had collected all sorts of odd bath additives.

After becoming poor, she abandoned this odd hobby, but the lady's yearning for bath additives persisted.

'When I have time, maybe I should make some bath additives with the lady.'

I was proud to have come up with a pastime to enjoy with the lady, but remembering her strange bathing philosophy made me shiver again.

When the lady was 10 years old.

At a stream, she proclaimed while undressing.

-Proper baths are taken naked! Baths with clothes on are no different from laundering. Got it, you bum!

-Put on your clothes, please.

-No way!

The lady had advocated for naked bathing. Knowing that the lady had such a unique philosophy—that a bath wasn't genuine unless taken naked.

Tense, I asked the lady in a nervous voice.

"Do you intend to take a bath now?"

To my confirming question, the lady gave a brief confirmation shot.

"Yeah. Sweaty and sticky."

"One day without it won't kill you."

"It might. I could die."

"Then, I'll bring you a warm washcloth."

The lady spoke resolutely.

"I want to soak in warm water."

And she added a condition.

"Stark naked."

Oh my, what is this woman saying, proposing to do this in front of a grown man?

Despite my heroic thoughts, my eyes were shaking tremendously. I may be incredibly handsome in my past and present life but was a timid virgin with no experience with women.

An awkward atmosphere hung in the air.

The lady who loves baths and the butler striving to maintain a man's dignity.

"I refuse."

"Why?"

"No, am I not a man? Perfectly handsome at that."

"You're not handsome."

"Don't lie."

"…It's true."

The lady puffed out her cheeks.

I must've hurt her feelings by denying her wishes. Though I felt weak, I could not bend the meaning of 'men and women should not sit together after the age of seven'.

"Hmm."

The lady glared at me again.

This time, she began smirking after looking at my sleeve and my body.

She really seemed like a pervert.

"Heheh."

"What is that laugh for?"

"It's nothing."

But with that said, the lady's gaze was directed toward the window.

"Let's do this then…"

***

"Argh!"

I threw the lady into the bath. She splashed into the tub, and the resentful look she gave me, completely drenched, filled me with a peculiar joy.

"Hehe."

As I flashed her a grin, the lady threw soap at my face.

"Such clumsy attacks will take a hundred years before they could touch me."

"Hmph."

Whoosh. The lady turned her head away.

I wanted to pinch her cheeks, all puffed out with indignation.

I dipped a finger into the bath where the lady was soaking.

'It's warm.'

The water was at a temperature that was neither too hot nor too cold, just how the lady would like it.

"How do you find the water temperature?"

When I asked for confirmation.

"Yeah. Feels like I'm turning into a stew."

The lady replied approvingly.

By the lady's standards, if it's cold, it's like pig's feet, but if it's warm, it's stew. Since the water was the right temperature today, that seemed positive.

"Sigh."

The lady was wearing clothing.

In staunch refusal, she had decided to take a step back.

-Let's do it this way. I'll wear clothes, a bathrobe should be enough, right?

Donning a white bathrobe, the lady pouted her lips and murmured as she splashed water at me.

"This isn't a real bath."

"You're right."

"No, this is laundry."

"Then so be it, do the laundry."

I smeared shampoo on my hands and began washing the lady's hair.

As I delivered a fantastic scalp massage, the lady, unable to keep her composure, groaned softly.

"Oooh… It feels like I'm being laundered."

"Please be quiet. It disrupts my concentration."

"Oooh…"

The lady was out of it.

As time passed, and the end of the bath was approaching.

I said to the lady.

"Lady."

The lady, sitting in the tub eating snacks, tilted her head slightly at my question.

"Huh?"

"I might need to be away for a couple of days next week, is that alright?"

"Why? Going to catch more bugs?"

"No. It's similar but different."

I felt like I needed to dust off my fortune a bit.

In two weeks' time, an article will announce the discovery of an unexplored dungeon near the summit of Mount Havel.

Just like in the novel.

It was an unprecedented dungeon, attracting many adventurers with its myriad artifacts and gold, an ancient labyrinthine dungeon filled with treasures.

In the novel, the female protagonist and Ruin. These two notable characters find time to participate in the dungeon exploration.

During this episode, they encounter friction with the heretics, but that was a situation they'd have to deal with on their own.

Ultimately, I intended to do a bit of recycling of the fortunes that Ruin and Uriah would scour for.

I would leave whatever was necessary for the story and take the unnecessary bits for myself.

I planned to collect any usable fortunes before more hands reached them.

Now that my swordsmanship level had increased to Lv. 6, there was no need to worry about dying even if I ran into heretics in the dungeon. I might even be able to farm a little.

I could also gather a sword for Hanna and elixirs to send to Malik—snatching some treasure on the side would surely make it perfect.

So when it was time to ask for permission,

I sought to gain the lady's consent.

The lady pondered.

"Is it dangerous?"

"No. Just going out for fun."

"Really?"

The lady's expression wasn't cheerful.

She seemed to misconstrue that I was headed for another tough job like the last bug-catching mission.

To alleviate the lady's concerns, I mixed truth with falsehood.

"Just going to pick some herbs in the mountains. It's getting colder, thought to prepare some tonic."

"Hmm."

After a lengthy contemplation, the lady nodded her head, signaling agreement.

"But don't dig up anything too bitter, bring back herbs with chocolate flavor."

"Where on earth would you find that?"

"They might exist."

I need to ask the maid coming tomorrow to schedule a two-day stay at the house.

"But Ricardo,"

"Yes?"

After a brief lapse of thought.

The lady looked at my hand and said.

"Why is your forearm so dark?"

The wet shirt revealed a charred, darkened forearm.

The lady reached out her hand toward me.

"Show me."

"What would you like to see?"

"Your hand."

The lady spoke, looking at my right hand hidden behind my back.

"I don't understand what you mean."

Pretending ignorance, I whistled, and the lady responded by throwing her beloved yellow rubber duck at me.

-Quack-

The rubber duck met its dramatic end.

I picked up the fallen duck toy from the floor and threw it back at the lady.

"Quack!"

This time the sound of a heroic fall came from the lady herself.

She glared at me with ferocity.

She outstretched her hand and made a beckoning gesture. It's not like I'm some dog that needs to give a paw.

I, too, crossed my arms and demonstrated my resolve to resist. How dare she try to look at my body so casually. This isn't how things are done in the land of the dignified East… well, never mind that.

Anyway.

I could not indulge the lady this time.

"Give me your hand."

"I refuse."

"Give it."

"I said no."

It was like a stalemate, reminiscent of playing 'boribori rice,' a game of exchange.

The lady reached out to grab my hand, and I kept her at a teasing distance while escaping her grasp, making it feel like we were playing 'boribori rice.'

As it is known, in 'boribori rice,' offense dominates defense. As a former master of 'boribori rice' who had turned kids' foreheads into unicorns with flicks, dodging the languid lady's attempts was easier than drawing tears from children.

The lady looked at me with pouting indignation.

It seems she didn't like being toyed with.

"Why are you hiding?"

"There's chocolate in the fridge."

"Oh…! Right."

Misdirection about the hidden treasure trove. I caught on to the lady's attempt to change the subject and shook my head vigorously.

"No! Not chocolate, I'm talking about your arm. I definitely saw it!"

She definitely saw it?

I thought she hadn't.

Usually slow, this was one of those times when her perceptiveness seemed sharper than a sword master's.

I hastily hid my hand behind my back, but in that fleeting moment, it seems the lady had seen the scars on my arm.

One piece of good news is that she didn't see them exactly.

It appears she only saw a vague silhouette through my wet shirt, as her gaze was still fixed on my wrist.

I thought maybe I could naturally brush it off.

Not knowing about it was a good thing for both the lady and me. After all, it's better to let sleeping dogs lie.

I contemplated excuses to tell the lady in my head, but under her piercing psychic assault, I couldn't easily come up with lies.

'I need to make up a good excuse.'

A clumsy excuse would make it all the more easy for the lady to notice.

But why would she be curious about it?

I awkwardly brushed my right hand at my back once more.

The dark silhouette turned murky from being wet. It was inexplicably curious, but not something worth staking a life on.

Neither a tattoo symbolizing the heretics.

Nor one representing Yuria's fan club.

Nor a tattoo detailing the family's secret.

Just a repulsive-looking scar, nothing more.

Especially. A scar I hope the lady would never have to see.

Both unsightly and unwanted.

Of course, I knew it would be discovered someday.

It wouldn't be proper to always wear long sleeves.

I thought when the scar faded with time, I'd casually reveal it while working and say I had been injured—a wound to which she would eventually understand when it gets faint enough. I didn't expect to be caught like this.

But luckily.

I had prepared excuses in advance.

I had come up with excuses while cleaning the mansion, just in case.

Whether the lady believes this way or that, I could show a plausible reaction.

If she says it's dirty.

-I haven't bathed; that's why.

If she questions why there's such a big spot on my arm.

-There's a huge birthmark on my forearm.

If she says it's scary.

-Gasp. There lives a black dragon on my right hand…

With such excuses, I was not scared. Of course, my heart was pounding madly, but it was a matter I could smoothly deal with.

The lady was reaching out to me.

And I was awkwardly hiding my hand.

Our awkward gazes crossed, and after about a minute of silence, the lady who couldn't wait any longer spoke up first.

"Ricardo."

"Yes."

"The truth is, I already know."

She said she knew.

I swallowed dryly.

How long has she known?

I didn't show any signs.

Usually, I wore a shirt that was not easily seen through. I was admittedly hot, but I always wore a shirt that wouldn't reveal anything, even under light moisture like sweat. How did the lady figure it out?

Countless thoughts raced through my head. Getting caught was not a scenario I had considered.

If indeed I were caught.

The atmosphere in the mansion would have been quite poor.

Tension swirled in the bath.

The lady spoke to me with cold eyes.

"You know, Ricardo, humans are creatures who make mistakes."

"Yes."

"And they have secrets that cannot be told."

"That's true."

"See, sometimes, like me, you might hit someone or even cause someone to go bald in a quarrel."

"That might be taking it too far."

The lady opened her eyes ferociously.

"Listen to me."

For just this moment, she felt like the youngest daughter of the Desmond family. The conversation might befit a confession in church, but the aura and intimidation she exuded were like those of the Desmond family head.

The lady said,

"I have my own secrets to keep."

"The lady does?"

"Yes."

The lady rustled her chest again.

"Actually, I stole some chocolate today."

"?"

She smiled while showing me the melting chocolate.

"A whole three pieces."

The lady laughed mischievously.

I genuinely wanted to flick her on the forehead.

-Under the bed.

-Between the pillow covers.

-Inside her hair.

As she continued to reveal the locations of her emergency rations, I had a hunch.

The lady was looking in the wrong direction.

I was a fool to be nervous.

The lady has always been oblivious. When everyone talks about black bean noodles, she's the one shouting for spicy seafood noodle soup on her own.

That's why I was a fool to think she had noticed something.

My previously tense mind started to run actively again.

Lying in the tub, having turned into a blob, the lady slowly opened her mouth.

"Ricardo, you got a tattoo, didn't you?"

As expected, the lady was barking up the wrong tree. I felt at ease, seeing her consistent behavior.

"…"

"You got a tattoo, right? Are you hiding it because I hate tattoos?"

"Did I really get caught?"

With an awkward smile, the lady grinned, apparently believing her deduction was correct.

The lady was pleased, her curiosity resolved.

I awkwardly scratched my head.

I started a wholehearted performance to avoid suspicion and make her believe she had 'caught me.'

"Was it very noticeable?"

"Yeah. It was hard pretending not to know."

"I tried my best to hide it, but I guess the lady's eyes can't be deceived."

"Of course. Who do you think I am?"

The lady patted her chest.

I was thankful that she took the bait.

Now that it had come to this, I had to be sure to deceive the lady thoroughly.

The moment a lie is believed as the truth, turning the falsehood into reality isn't so difficult.

And since I was the only one who knew about this scar, as long as I kept quiet, there was no issue.

Fabrication was no problem at all.

I smoothly lied, coming up with a story on the spot.

"I got a tattoo without the lady's knowledge a while ago."

"Right?"

"I apologize for hiding it. I got a rather odd tattoo that I couldn't just show around."

"Hmm… Really? Since when did you have it?"

The lady asked a sharp question.

"About… a year ago?"

"Yikes! You had it that long ago?! You butler! How could you keep it hidden for so long!"

Feeling betrayed, the lady threw a rubber duck.

-Quack-

I dodged it again.

"That attack was quite vicious."

I gave her a thumbs-up, and she hissed in frustration, venting her anger.

"Next time, you'll get hit."

"Sorry. Dodging poor attacks is a habit of mine."

"Eek!"

It was about time to leave the bathroom.

Three hours after the lady had submerged herself in the tub, she now had a somewhat otherworldly presence you wouldn't quite call human.

The lady, turned into something akin to a slime, seemed to have forgotten all about the tattoo.

-Splash splash-

The lady was throwing her rubber duck against the wall, playing catch by herself.

-Quack!-

"Hii-YAH!"

-Quack!-

"Ho-Hii-YAH!"

With each contact against the wall, the rubber duck made progressively more pitiful squawks. Paying respects to the toy duck suffering at its master's hands, I got up from my spot.

"Where are you going?"

"I will get a towel."

"Towel?"

The lady looked at me quizzically.

At the mention of a towel, she was on high alert, like a cat with its fur standing on end.

But I couldn't back down.

I had to clock out and go home now.

I communicated my intention to the lady with simple gestures.

Pointing at her.

'You'

Then pointing outside the door.

'Will leave.'

And then pointing at the floor.

'Right now.'

"Eek!"

She threw the rubber duck at me yet again.

***

Seated on the bed, the lady entrusted her hair to me.

She wanted me to dry it using my aura.

A true waste of premium labor. If Hanna saw this scene, she'd probably shriek and drag Olivia away.

Controlling aura finely enough for such tasks was anything but simple.

Even a Sword Master cannot do what I'm doing right now. But does the lady appreciate my greatness?

The lady, who mumbled contentedly with drowsy eyes, didn't seem to have a clue.

"Ooo… it's nice."

"Is it nice?"

"Yeah."

While drying her hair.

The lady asked inattentively.

"Ricardo."

"Yes?"

"Can I ask about the tattoo?"

It was unusual for the lady to ask so politely.

Typically, she would have demanded, 'Show me!'

I was touched that she seemed grown-up, leaning into me and asking so formally.

"Showing it seems difficult…"

"Uh huh, I won't look. No. I don't want to."

"Is that so?"

"I hate tattoos."

I felt a sting when she said she hated it.

It was like watching a daughter run away from her bearded father, which hurt my heart.

Inwardly, I pondered deeply.

How did my scar come to be?

It was cracked like a drought-stricken land, and there were black burn marks in places. It resembled what, exactly?

Since the best lies are rooted in truth, I was determined to give a believable excuse.

After about three minutes of thinking.

I thought of the most similar thing I could come up with.

"Tree bark."

The lady looked at me.

Her expression oddly changed. The look she gave me seemed very different from when she was bathing.

As she looked at me, her face appeared as if she might cry.

Why was she behaving like this?

Perhaps I brushed the hair too forcefully.

Lost in various thoughts and unable to move easily.

The lady asked me with a repressed voice.

"Why?"

"Just because."

I had thought of the closest resemblance.

I didn't expect her to ask why.

I replied plausibly to the lady's question.

"Just, because it's strong and solid. It gives shade too."

"Really?"

The lady nodded her head.

"It's like you."

The lady, who answered me, stared blankly at the ceiling.

The lady had been gazing blankly at the ceiling for a while now. I asked her in a soft voice.

"What are you looking at so intently?"

"Huh? Oh, it's nothing."

The lady dismissed the question.

"Just…"

[A quest has arisen.]

"Because tattoos are scary."

[Q. The Secret He Hides.

On the day when the master he had served for 13 years collapsed, Ricardo was there.

Nobody knew what had happened that day, but.

Just one person,

Her butler, knew the truth about that day.

Ricardo intends to hide the events of that day forever. The secret that was to be quietly overlooked, without anyone else knowing.

(!) Unravel the secret of that day.

1. See the secret Ricardo hides. (0/1)

2. Touch the secret Ricardo hides. (0/1)

Reward: Access to read 〈Side Story 29〉 'The Man's Secret.']

Olivia knew everything.