"Young Master...!!" The Butler, Pavel, almost dropped the tray of tea and cookies he was carrying. His face was passive-pale, his hands trembled violently, until the tea in his cup almost spilled.
"This is me Pavel, why are you suddenly acting like this? You look very surprised. Is there something wrong?" Pavel's voice trembled, almost inaudible amid the carefree chirping of birds outside the window. He lowered his head slightly, waiting for Lucian's answer.
Lucian did not immediately answer the waiter. He closed his eyes for a moment, then grabbed his temple. Pain suddenly hit his head, like an electric wave that struck without warning. His heart was pounding, and in an instant, a piece of information that felt foreign but familiar flashed through his mind.
Lucian Hale, second son of the noble family of Hale. He has a closed personality and is quite tempramental. His reputation was quite bad among the servants in this mansion.
He was known to be irritable, often punishing the servant for just minor mistakes. In fact, some maids claimed to have been beaten just because they accidentally stared at his face for too long. Many of them choose to avoid it as much as possible, or immediately bow down if they meet in the hallway.
The middle-aged man in front of him right now is Pavel Darnell. House Hale's butler and the only servant who, for some reason, still showed concern for Lucian. Although the man had been scolded and even slapped by Lucian in the past, he persisted, remained calmly serving, and always showed genuine concern whenever Lucian was seen injured or exhausted.
"Young master, what's going on?!" Pavel screamed, almost fainting. His face was as pale as paper, his hands were trembling violently, until the tray of tea and pastries almost fell to the floor.
"It's okay, it's just... My head suddenly felt very dizzy." Lucian massaged his temples gently, his gaze blurred for a moment, but then slowly refocused as he stared at the middle-aged man in front of him.
"Thank you for worrying me, Pavel." His words were soft, yet sincere—something that had never been heard from Lucian's mouth before. For a moment, Pavel was silent. His eyes widened slowly, as if he wasn't sure of what he had just heard.
"Yoooouuuuungggg Maaaaasteeer...!!!" Pavel, his tears already pooling in the pools of his eyes, suddenly hugged Lucian tightly. His embrace was full of great worry and relief. His body shook violently, as if to hold back the tears that were about to explode.
"You thank me, it's an honor for me. I'm very worried, Young Master. I'm really scared..." His voice was sobbing, the voice of an old servant who was truly sincere and loyal.
Lucian was a little surprised by Pavel's overreaction. He was a little awkward, but still tried to be calm. "Alright, I understand. So, can you let me go?" Lucian tried to release Pavel's embrace gently, even though his body still felt very weak.
"Oh, I'm sorry for my rashness, Young Master." Pavel hurriedly let go of his embrace, his face full of embarrassment. "As always, I bring you your favorite chamomile tea and some cookies, Young Master. I hope you enjoy it."
Lucian simply nodded his head, then with a trained gesture Pavel placed the tea tray and cookies on the table. He glanced at the tray, the chamomile tea that had been served with a thin steam that was still steaming, leaving behind the sweet aroma of the brewed tea.
Pavel waited for a moment, worried about whether the Young Master would say something, but seeing Lucian who looked silent, he finally retreated slowly, remaining with a reserved respect. "If you need anything more, Young Master, I'll be outside," he said in a soft, almost whisper-like voice.
Lucian looked at the closed door for a moment with a flat face, then he sighed for a moment. He casually approached the table in the room and grabbed the porcelain cup with both hands.
Warmth crept through his body for a moment, he stared at the golden liquid and let the inquisitive scent of chamomile tickle on his nose.
Slowly he sipped the tea, warm. It doesn't taste too sweet, but it's also not too bitter. Lucian closed his eyes for a moment, it felt... For some reason it was quite familiar to him.
"To be honest I prefer coffee to tea, but... I think this body is too used to this feeling," Lucian muttered quietly, almost as if he was talking to himself. He opened his eyes slowly, staring at the cup for a few seconds longer, as if trying to unravel the memories left behind the delicate taste of chamomile.
Then, the other hand took a cookie on a plate next to the porcelain cup. The first bite made his mouth fill with simple sweet and savory flavors. It wasn't the best cake he'd ever eaten, but once again there was a certain comfort in his familiarity.
He took another sip of the tea slowly, then put it back on the tray. His gaze moved outside the glass window.
"Sometimes the body remembers things more than the mind."
Lucian took a deep breath, then dropped his body on an oak chair, he then crossed his legs and rested his head on his hands.
He closed his eyes for a moment, while the other tapped his finger on the side of the oak chair. The sound of birds chirping began to be heard from a distance.
"One thing I realize now, this is all not a dream." He muttered in his mind.
His eyes opened slowly, staring at the table in front of him that was neatly arranged with untouched documents and books. He snorted slightly, then leaned forward slightly with his chin resting on his joined hands.
"Well, complaining is also useless. If this is the case, then there is no other choice but to live it, right?" He continued his thoughts.
"If I were Lucian, not Naveen, that would mean it hadn't all started yet, right?" He finally opened his mouth and muttered a little, while looking out the window that showed the back garden of the Hale mansion.
He leaned his back against the chair, staring at the ceiling of the room, he let his hair fall on his shoulders, "After all, living a life as a noble isn't so bad," he continued to mutter.
"... And also... Lucian was the second son. That means I don't have to be busy with major political matters, taking care of territory, or inheriting titles. I just need to... live quietly and keep your distance."
His fingers gently tapped the arm of the chair. "To avoid the flow that is in the game... I just need to avoid the protagonist, right?" Lucian's eyes narrowed, his lips curled to form a small smile. "That sounds easy, at least until I know where the wind is going to take this story."
However, his smile didn't last long. He straightened his body again, then leaned forward slightly with his chin resting on his joined hands.
He stared at the porcelain cup that contained tea half the volume of the cup. His fingers stretched out slowly, twisting his fingers over the lips of the cup, creating a subtle vibration that only he could hear.
"But... precisely because I am Lucian, I can't be too relaxed." A consciousness slowly hit him, cold and sharp like the tip of a knife in the nape of the neck.
"The information is too minimal, I also can't just rely on the memories of him that have just possessed my mind." He stopped moving his fingers, then stared blankly at his reflection on the calm surface of the tea. His eyes narrowed sharply.
"Even information about Naveen used to be very minimal on the gaming forums." He remembers very well, the character is like a shadow, appears only as a nuisance in the protagonist's storyline, then disappears without much trace. "And also, the information about his real name was only revealed when the end of the story was... that trash," he thought angrily, his mocking lips forming a slanted smile. "A messy script and a cheap twist that came too late... But now, I'm in it."
He took a sip of the rest of the tea in his cup, trying to ease the anxiety that suddenly appeared.
"If I'm caught off guard, I'm just waiting for the flow to pass and hope that everything will go well... I'm going to lose. I'm going to die." His gaze was now directed at the empty teacup.
"I need information. About this world. About anyone who is influential. About Lucian, the people around him, even about the world system itself."
He clenched his fists, his fingers shaking softly. Then he snorted for a moment calming his mind.
"Heh... Hey, you're the one who calls yourself an Architect or a Developer or something," he shouted quietly, almost like he was talking in the empty air, but the glare of his eyes pierced the ceiling of the room. "Can't you help me now? Aren't there stats, skills, systems, and all that digital crap in the game?"
He let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumped down slightly. "I feel like I'm really stuck in a maze right now..." He continued slowly, the voice almost drowned in the silence of the room, like a prayer that was not addressed to anyone or perhaps, instead addressed to the entity watching from behind the scenes.
However, there was no answer as he expected. All that could be heard was the sound of wall clocks and the chirping of birds coming from outside.
Lucian leaned back on the chair, then closed his eyes, his eyebrows twitched for a moment. Then he casually massaged his temples, "So it's like this huh?" she murmured softly.
He opened his eyes slowly, staring at the ceiling with a blank stare. The silence seemed to mock him. There was no system, no notifications, no mysterious voice answering.
Lucian moved his teeth, the hand that had originally massaged his temples was now clenched tightly on the table. The emotions he had been holding back since that morning finally began to push out.
"... You threw me into this world, giving me a body full of rotten reputation, without direction, and wishing I could just hold on?" he muttered again, this time in a heavier voice.
Suddenly he slammed his fist on the table making the cup and plate on it vibrate violently, the contents spilled slightly onto the table, flowing along the wood carvings on its surface. The sound of his fist striking echoed through the room, shattering the silence that hung like fog.
Taking a deep breath, he lowered his head, staring at the palm that was foreign to him now.
"… DAMN," he hissed, more to himself.
He sighed again, then combed his hair which originally bothered his view backwards. His gaze was straight straight ahead.
"Okay," he said firmly, his tone full of steadyness.
"I guess I have to find my own information now, both in this world, and in the life I'm now living." He continued, "Even though I want to, but I can't relax until I find enough information."