After that, Lumen's voice no longer came through. In its place was the silence of the manor.
Orson leaned against the wall beside the room, silently pondering something.
—If he got caught by a Rostov family member going to pee in the middle of the night, how could he explain that he wasn't some perverted peeping tom who wanted to sneak a look at Big Sis Lumen's sleeping posture but didn't have the guts to open the door?
Getting Beaten Up on His First Day at Work
In the morning, as the newly appointed senior security officer of the Rostov family, Orson woke up alone for the first time in ages.
Not having to carefully check whether Ino was on him felt strangely subtle to Orson.
Yesterday's events had been far too absurd. Even now, Orson was still a little dazed. Though, in a sense, he had perfectly accomplished both obtaining an identity and establishing ties with the Rostov family.
After putting on the custom-tailored black suit, Orson left his room and followed the notice to a building.
"Whoa—"
After pushing open the door, Orson discovered that this was actually an employee cafeteria specifically prepared for the security forces. It was right beside the room where the nobles dined.
These capitalists really were terrible... Hmm, this bread was so soft.
Orson had wanted to criticize them, but the food was simply too good.
"Hey, where'd this kid come from? This isn't somewhere you should be!"
Several burly Rostov family bodyguards approached Orson as he ate. Compared to these fierce, towering middle-aged men, Orson really did look like a teenager who had gotten lost and wandered in for a free meal.
"..."
Orson ignored them and continued eating with his head down. But they mistook his behavior for fear of conflict and became even more aggressive.
"Kid, don't tell me you think carrying a dagger makes you a guard? Sure, the Rostov family needs anyone it can get right now because of special circumstances, but a guy like you should hurry back to your mother's arms... Wait, you're a senior security officer?!"
The bodyguards noticed the badge pinned to Orson's chest. It identified him as a senior security officer, a position that paid five times more than an ordinary bodyguard like them. They instantly became even more displeased, and some even reached out to grab Orson by the collar.
"Crescendo—"
Orson was somewhat interested in what these people had just said about the Rostov family's current situation, but he had no intention of continuing to waste time with them.
"Urgh—!?"
The tie of the bodyguard nearest him rapidly heated up under Orson's Originium Arts before bursting into flames. The others were temporarily distracted from Orson by this incident.
Tuning the Black Score was intuitive and effective, but it came with quite a few limitations. First, the object being tuned had to lack subjective consciousness, and its structure could not be too complex. Only then could the Black Score tune an object within a certain size limit.
After temporarily driving off those boring idiots, Orson returned to being a devoted eater.
—Mm, the carrot sticks taste pretty good. I can bring some back for FrostNova.
The stew was rich and hearty. Alina would probably like this flavor.
Spicy borscht? Interesting taste. He would see if he could make some for Talula when he got back.
There was even herbal tea! Old Patriot would probably like this kind of health drink.
As Orson ate, he considered stuffing dishes into his pockets. He had forgotten many things, but he had never forgotten what his friends liked to eat... Care for lonely Orson. Don't let waiting become regret—
After breakfast, it was time to begin security work. Orson kept watch at the edge of Natalia's field of vision while observing the house.
Though the Rostovs were the most influential new nobles in Chernobog, their home was not that outrageous. Compared to the castle within Koschei's mental realm, Natalia's family likely lived in a more modern villa because their title was not hereditary.
Of course, "not that outrageous" was only relative. After all, ordinary people could never live in a house with a garden at the entrance that required dedicated staff to maintain.
After finishing breakfast, Lumen returned to her room. During this time, Orson wandered around a little, intending to familiarize himself with the manor's entire layout. Since he was already here, he should at least have the right work ethic.
"Hmm?"
When he arrived near the main hall, Orson noticed that the previously empty space now contained an unfamiliar man dressed in expensive Ursus noble attire, accompanied by several fully armed guards.
The man held a cigar in his mouth. Though he wore no fierce expression, his entire presence was exceedingly arrogant, domineering, and aggressive.
Opposite him stood the Head of the Rostov Family, Natalia's father, a merchant by trade. Though he responded to the man directly, both his bearing and confidence appeared somewhat suppressed.
"Can't hear what they're saying... Right."
Orson took out an Anchor Spike and tossed it near the main hall. Then he removed an identical catalyst and synchronized their frequencies.
"Your business has certainly been prospering more and more, Andrei. Buying the right to control everything with money feels great, doesn't it?"
The voice came through. It sounded like the arrogant nobleman.
"We are only trying to make Chernobog more—"
"Don't get too full of yourselves. You were nothing more than lowly vassals attached to other nobles. You've tasted a little sweetness and already forgotten your place? Naturally, I hope we can settle this peacefully, but there are far too many people coveting Chernobog, Marquis Rostov. You'd best think carefully. Otherwise—perhaps you should prepare yourselves to see your daughter and wife's heads the next morning."
"You—"
"Give up Chernobog and get the hell out of our territory. Or we'll help carry you out piece by piece. Make your choice, Head of the Family—or should I say, shameless bastard."
The Head of the Rostov Family was threatened so blatantly by the man, but before he could say anything, the other party unilaterally cut off the conversation and ended it.
Noticing that the man was preparing to leave and was coming in his direction, Orson immediately put away the crude listening device and pretended to stand guard. This time, he got a close look at the nobleman.
It was not much different from his earlier impression. Although the man had the "kind" face of a middle-aged or elderly gentleman, his entire body exuded the pressure and arrogance of a superior.
"New here?"
The high-ranking official casually asked Orson with contempt.
"Yeah, I only reported in not long ago."
"Ha, Andrei, have you already fallen to using people like this? Oh well. Those Sarkaz mercenaries are at least somewhat useful, but even someone like this can pass as security. Right, let me test whether you're Infected."
Seemingly remembering something, the high-ranking official ordered the guard beside him to draw a blood sample from Orson.
"Isn't that a little inappropriate? I'm attached to—"
Thud!!
Before Orson could finish explaining, another guard's baton came down mercilessly on his head.
"Don't refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit! You got a death wish, kid?!"
"...Sorry."
Blood dripped from his forehead, but Orson neither lost his temper nor got angry. He was completely obedient as the guard grabbed his arm and prepared to draw blood.
—This was a little troublesome. He could kill these people, but that would be the same as pushing Lumen and her family straight into the heart of the furnace.
He could only follow them afterward and find an opportunity to silence the testing device.
The syringe pierced Orson's arm. Though he did not want to admit it, this sudden situation was rather awkward.
"Stop!"
Just as the guard prepared to pull back the plunger and draw blood, a voice stopped them.
Lumen's voice came from the other side. The status of the Rostov family's daughter barely made the guards halt their work.
"My apologies for not knowing of your arrival, Duke Baikal, but isn't the way you're treating our people somewhat excessive?"
Lumen first bowed to the high-ranking official called Duke Baikal, then questioned his excessive actions in a neither servile nor overbearing tone.
So he was Baikal. I see.
Duke Baikal—the original de facto ruler of Chernobog, an old noble capable of mobilizing the Third Army Group. Though he still retained military authority, the Rostov family and Marquis Boris's industrial expansion had deprived him of most of Chernobog's economic profits.
"Hahaha, this 'senior security officer' looked so weak that I couldn't help wanting to bully him a little. My apologies, Natasha."
Duke Baikal laughed as he walked over to Natalia, gently placing a hand on Lumen's shoulder.
"I'm very happy to see that you're still alive, Uncle truly is. But perhaps I'd be even happier if I saw Natasha cut into many pieces."
"...!"
Duke Baikal laughed as he turned to leave, while the two guards roughly pulled the syringe from Orson's arm.
"Get some awareness of your circumstances and status, you people who think you're nobles."
"You lowborn bastards think having some money makes you nobles? The rules of a brothel don't work here, student council president."
The two guards beside Duke Baikal also hurled all sorts of deeply insulting words at Lumen. The guard who had beaten Orson even poked his baton toward Lumen's sensitive area.
"But you really don't look your age. It'd be a pity for you to die like this, so why don't you just become my lo—"
Before the guard could finish, a sudden chill surged through his body from below upward, raising goosebumps all over him.
"—!?"
For an instant, he felt as naked and exposed as a slab of meat tied to a chopping board. Yet he could not find the source of that bone-piercing killing intent.
"...Tch. You're lucky, brat. Bitch."
In the end, the guard put away his baton and left the Rostov family villa with Duke Baikal.
So it had worked, more or less? Sigh... Intimidating presence was the one thing I still couldn't learn.
Orson—the true source of the killing intent just now—sighed.
During this time, he had learned far more combat techniques than ordinary people, but no matter what he did, he could never learn how to project the aura of a tyrant.
Though The Silence of the North had already become a nightmare legend to most people, Orson himself had absolutely none of Patriot's oppressive intimidation.
When ordinary people saw Bojokasti as an enemy, their first thought was probably to reflect on their lives while crying and writing their last will and testament.
But when ordinary people saw Orson, they only thought this stubborn young man was pretty wild, not to mention handsome. Come here and let big sister give you a squeeze.
Though he had undergone special training for Conqueror's Haki, the evaluations Talula, FrostNova, and Patriot gave Orson when he went "all out" were:
"A cat whose tail has been stepped on," "a cat that fell into a bathtub," and "a cat with a cucumber behind it."
"Why were they all cats!?"
After that incident, Orson had basically given up researching how to look fierce.
After confirming that the uninvited guests had left, Lumen sighed and asked Orson beside her.
"Are you alright, Orson? Your forehead is bleeding... I'm sorry. Even though this is Rostov family territory, you still suffered something like this. This was our failure."
"I'm fine. More importantly, was Duke Baikal just now the mastermind who hired the assassins?"
Orson wiped the blood from his forehead, accepted the tissue Lumen handed him, and asked for information about Duke Baikal.
"It can basically be confirmed... He's the leader of the old noble faction, but before this, he had never done anything so extreme."
Lumen answered with a sigh, while trying to pull herself together again.
"He even hired Sarkaz mercenaries. That doesn't look like he hasn't done anything extreme—but in a sense, I suppose you're right."
The Third Army Group—this was the greatest card held by Duke Baikal, the old noble. Naturally, it was also the card with the most limitations. Though the army belonged to part of the old noble faction, they did not have a superior-subordinate relationship.
The Army Group would not work for Duke Baikal unconditionally.
If there was anything good about W's assassination attempt on Lumen, it was probably that the old noble faction had not yet fully joined forces with the military and prepared to deliver a devastating blow to the Rostov family in Chernobog.
It was easy enough to understand. If he dragged the military into this, the pressure would be hopelessly overwhelming, but after wiping out the new noble faction, Baikal would also have one more enormous mouth called the Third Army Group to share the profits with. That was certainly not something the nobleman wanted to see.
"Duke Baikal wants our family to abandon all our industries in Chernobog and leave this place. Father has been negotiating with him for three months, but from the looks of it, Duke Baikal has reached the limit of his patience."
Lumen spoke worriedly, then suddenly realized that she should not be telling such dispiriting words to this "employee" beside her, whether for public or personal reasons.
"What happened, Natasha! I heard sounds of a conflict over here just now... Hmm? Aren't you that Oreo fellow?"
Lumen's father hurried over at that moment and noticed Orson beside her.
"It's Orson. Next time, please at least read my name clearly during the interview, Lord Rostov."
"Just call me Lord Andrei. One look is enough to know roughly what happened. Remember to apply for workplace injury compensation afterward."
After glancing over and confirming that Lumen was unharmed, the Head of the Family hurriedly prepared to leave again.
"Lord Andrei, Duke Baikal wanted to test whether I was Infected earlier."
Orson stopped the Head of the Rostov Family.
"Mm, an Ursus specialty. What about it?"
"If I were Infected—how would you handle it?"
Orson asked this somewhat unexpected question, but the Head of the Rostov Family merely thought for a moment.
Before you continue