Plan and Escape (1)

Only the lights shining through the French windows illuminated the room slightly. The evening breeze would occasionally sway the curtains, making the entire room feel peaceful. It was a quiet night, with only the occasional chirping of birds or insects outside. One would feel lonely if they weren't used to this kind of environment.

The House of Katz's mansion was located in the noble district. It was a historic neighborhood, much like the imperial palace. The residents were apparently the oldest noble households, such as the Duke's. It was a prime location desired by most nobles of a certain status, as well as a status symbol.

Ordinary people would never have the opportunity to live or visit there. Entry is forbidden without invitations or authority comparable to the palace's security. The neighborhood had no official name, so people just started calling it the Noble's District, which became its unofficial name.

While many referred to it as a neighborhood, the mansions were far apart, and privacy among the nobles was guaranteed. There weren't many nobles there, especially the new nobles who had only emerged in the last hundred years. The place was in extreme contrast to the city. It was nearly impossible to encounter anyone loitering around the place because it wasn't crowded, most likely due to etiquette. The nobles prioritized and were overly concerned with their reputation.

Arren had grown accustomed to the dull atmosphere. He never liked it, but that doesn't mean he despises it. It was just so-so. He did enjoy partying, though, with the loud music, wild dancing, and alcohol... he loved it so much. He occasionally craved a lively and noisy environment. In that kind of environment, he feels so alive.

The monotonous and boring noble life reminds Arren of his previous life when all he could do was lie down at home and do anything that did not exhaust him. He was always alone because both of his parents needed to work in order to afford his medications and treatments, as well as any surgeries or hospitalizations.

Partying allows him to immerse himself and realize that this world was not a dream. He was reborn without heart disease and with a healthy body. He also didn't have to spend the entire day at home reading novels or watching movies. He could now drink alcohol without taking any medications. He was alive and well, and he was free.

That was also why he disliked attending official banquets or interacting with people of his status; their parties were boring and pretentious. They were hypocrites who smiled despite their rage inside. Their reputation and status were more important than anything else, and they were a bunch of liars and idiots.

If Arren had to choose who he would be friends with again, he would choose opportunistic and social climbers without hesitation. It did not imply that he tolerated them, but rather that they were more genuine than those with status.

They didn't need to hide their intentions, and Arren could read them just fine. Arren was aware that they had ulterior motives and knew what actions he should take. It was different when dealing with noble youths; they always tried hard to conceal their intentions and motives. You wouldn't know if they were genuine or just trying to take advantage of you because your statuses were the same in the first place.

They weren't like those social climbers who had a clear goal in mind, which was to climb the ladder using his connections, but with nobles of higher status, they might be plotting something more complicated in the dark.

It wasn't about Arren thinking too much, as he was aware of what kind of novel this is. The plot revolved primarily around conspiracies and schemes. He wouldn't be blinded by the status he was born with, for him, it was just used to make his actions more convenient.

In that dark room, Arren was lying in his stomach and looking like a dried fish as his limbs lifelessly sprawled around. Arren was currently depressed as a result of what had happened earlier.

First, his father refused to return his phone, and the hot alpha's contact vanished in an instant. He could move on from that as they might meet again, but his father didn't want to reveal any details of the investigation to him, and what was even more unreasonable and illogical was that the order was given personally by the Emperor. Fuck, what the hell was this?

He couldn't quite understand. How did this happen? Even Spade, one of the novel's most important characters and the most powerful person in this reality, was now interfering in his affairs. He didn't even have to meet him in person, but he was noticed first! The world was making fun of him.

Could Your Majesty perhaps just stay in the palace and attend to more pressing matters? He thought, his teeth clenched in rage. This emperor was so fucking meddlesome! Could Spade just mind his own fucking business?

Everything becomes complicated all at once. He was at a loss for what to do. In his foul mood, he rolled aggressively in bed, kicking the quilts and covers. He was furious. He also wanted to scream, but reason immediately stopped him. He wasn't a kid anymore, so he couldn't throw a tantrum like that. So he settled for kicking the quilts and covers and punching the pillows as if it were the Emperor. Arren hated that stupid Spade Remmington. Ugh, he wished he could punch him once.

At the end of the day, Arren lacked the courage to openly curse for the Emperor, let alone use that name carelessly. He still loved his life so much. Even though it was unfortunate, life must go on.

One week passed, and little had changed. He was still grounded. His phone was still confiscated. However, he began studying online, It had only been a few lectures so far, and to be honest, it wasn't much different in class, but he still missed sitting in the lecture hall. Arren loved going out even more.

It was a boring week. He did his homework, slept, watched movies or documentaries, read something, and then ate whatever he wanted. Yes, he had returned to his otaku life. Arren swore his feet were now itchy, as he wanted to go outside and walk around. The magnificent mansion now looks more like a prison to him; it was the same space every day. Arren was sick of it, but he couldn't complain.

His father was extremely busy these days. He was often out, and they couldn't eat together much. Arren expected the hot alpha to return to the mansion, but he was disappointed when he couldn't even see the alpha's shadow once. Perhaps their meeting place had changed, or perhaps it was in the palace.

Arren couldn't help but cut the vegetables he was cutting violently and furiously, lamenting inside how deceitful and infuriating that emperor was. Spade not only kept him from learning anything about the investigation, but he also took his hot alpha away from him.

This was too much! He simply knew that the fucking Spade was preventing Mister Royal Investigator from interacting with him, which was why he appeared rude the first time they met.

That was right. It was not the royal investigator's fault because he was simply following orders, but the Emperor's! It was all his fault the whole time. Arren cut the vegetables even more aggressively as the sound of the knife smashing on the cutting board clattered even louder.

The auntie was given a scare because of this. He was bored, so he decided to cook to pass the time. But he guessed that before he finished his cooking, the cook's auntie would get a stroke first from high blood pressure. Don't get the wrong idea; Arren could cook. It was just that he was distracted and couldn't concentrate on cooking.

It was hopeless. So he stopped cooking, apologized to the auntie, and walked out of the kitchen. There goes a boring day again.

It was the weekend, and the mansion was exactly as it had been. It was quiet and peaceful, which made Arren sleepy and dreary. He had previously believed that this home could heal his soul, and he was very comfortable with the ambiance of the mansion, but now that it was all he saw all day, he was going insane. Damn, he missed the outside world so much.

He was lying down on the couch, his stomach facing the air, and the background noise from the television that he didn't even understand what the show was about, as his lifeless eyes were looking at the ceiling and the chandeliers didn't seem to look shiny in his eyes anymore. Everything seemed black and white to him right now.

Scrolling through social media right now wasn't that effective anymore. Arren's laptop was not confiscated like his other devices as he needed it for online classes, but he only had a limited amount of time to use it.

The more he looks at and scrolls through social media, the more he longs for the outside world. Seeing those fucker's posts while he was crying silently in his house was torturous. Fuck it was so unfair, Arren didn't even want him to be in danger, so why was he suffering?

He expected his father to lift his grounded status after a week, but it had now been almost two weeks, and it appeared he would have to wait a little longer. His father was merciless this time; Arren couldn't even see his father at home.

Whatever, it was not like he didn't have a plan. However, the likelihood of his plan succeeding was pitifully low. As the Duke's residence, the mansion was heavily guarded; its security must be safe. He couldn't bypass and escape those guards who were patrolling around the parameter of the mansion.

Not to mention the surveillance cameras at the entrance. And because he didn't have a car, he couldn't go very far. Hitch-hiking a car in this noble neighborhood would be just a pipe dream. If anyone notices a suspicious stranger on the streets, they may report him.

He squeezed all of his brain cells into any possible plan, but he was always hapless in the end. He also considered begging his father, but he seemed to avoid him.

He had a plan in mind, and it was the only plan with a 1% success rate. It was better than nothing. He rose from his seat and walked into the kitchen, where servants were preparing to prepare his food.

"Auntie," Arren exclaimed. The servants all look at him. These servants were all beta women of various ages, with the auntie being the oldest at the age of sixty. He always addressed her with respect because she was one of the family's most devoted servants.

"Yes, young master?" auntie responded immediately, while the others moved to make room for him. They all stopped what they were doing as well.

"I want a pizza," he says, "I mean I want to order a pizza outside." To be honest, he could order on his own without first informing them, but the food would be wasted.

In addition, the auntie would be ordering the pizza in his place. They would communicate with someone outside the entrance because even the delivery man was not permitted to enter and instead fetched the order right at the entrance.

It was extremely rare for nobles to order take-out. They were always concerned about their health and weight and considered takeout and fast food to be unhealthy foods. Arren, on the other hand, had no such reservations because he enjoys eating foods like this.

The auntie was taken aback at first, but she quickly nodded, "Yes, young master, what flavor should we order?"

"All of them," he replied without batting an eyelid.

In shock, the auntie repeated, "All of the flavors, young master?" she inquired.

"Yes, all of the flavors," Arren confirmed, and he smiled one last time as he walked out of the kitchen. Ignoring the shocked expressions on the servants' faces inside.

What's the problem with him trying all of the pizza flavors? He missed eating pizza, so what? He walked over to the living room, grinning deviously and humming a tune.