Chapter 7: Chapter 07 (New)
A young boy stood in front of the mirror with an impressed look on his face. His pale blonde hair fell down over his young, handsome face. His dull emerald eyes glistened as he wore a cold expression, staring at his reflection.
"I'm sure handsome for a kid," the boy said, impressed by his reflection. He scoffed, adjusting his white shirt and pulling his cuffs down. "Much better."
The door loudly opened, revealing a maid with red hair and hazel eyes. She looked at the boy with distaste in her eyes.
"The lord has called for you," she said, her tone dripping with disdain. "Try to present yourself properly this time, even if it might be a challenge for you."
The boy turned around and looked her dead in the eyes, emotionless. He nodded and started walking out of the room, the maid's cold gaze following him. Once he was some distance away, he muttered under his breath, "The first target will be you Bitch just you wait."
The boy walked down the white corridor, glancing to his side at a lavish garden brimming with greenery. He placed a hand on his face, a look of pain crossing his features as he muttered, "It irritates me."
The boy moved his hand away and resumed walking, looking straight ahead. He reached a large door where a middle-aged man with a stoic expression stood guard, clad in shining silver armor and gripping a spear. The man glanced at the boy before turning and entering the room.
The guard returned to his post, his voice cold and devoid of emotion as he spoke. "The Lord will see you now. Enter."
The boy took a glance at the guard, nodded, and stepped into the room, his stoic expression unwavering.
The room was an epitome of luxury, with a rich red carpet leading to a grand table in the center. Black pillars framed the space, contrasting elegantly with the pristine white walls and gold-accented ceilings.
The table, made of expensive-looking wood and showcasing high-level craftsmanship, was covered with a large amount of papers. Behind it sat a man in his 40s with an Egyptian goatee and long, pale blonde hair that matched the young boy's. His dull green eyes glanced at the boy for a second before he gestured for him to sit.
The boy took a seat, his stoic expression unchanged as he glanced around the opulent room. For a long time, no words were exchanged between them. The man continued signing the papers, while the boy sat comfortably, observing in silence.
"Lucas, are you feeling anything with your core?" the man asked, his eyes still fixed on the papers.
"No, nothing in particular," the boy replied in his unusually cold voice, causing the man's temples to twitch before he regained his stoic expression.
"Then feel something," the man demanded, raising his head to look at the boy and speaking a bit louder. The boy remained silent, sitting comfortably.
After a while of waiting for a response, the man spoke again, his tone sharper, "Aren't you going to answer for your incompetence?" The boy shifted his attention from the room to the man, his gaze unwavering.
"What should I say?" the boy paused. "I'll try," he finished, glancing at the man. "So, was there anything else besides my awakening?" he questioned.
The man took a breath and spoke, "I heard from Evelyn that you've been acting strange."
"So?" the boy responded, not looking at the man.
"Aren't you going to tell me about it?" The man's gaze remained fixed on the youth in front of him.
The boy finally fixed his gaze on the man and replied nonchalantly, "I wasn't feeling very well this week."
The man nodded at the boy's answer. "That's it. Scram out of my office," he said, shifting his attention back to the papers.
The boy stood up from the chair and started walking towards the door.
"Caliban told me you're doing fine, but Bairon, at your age, was leagues ahead of you," the man remarked.
The boy stopped at the mention of the name. A devilish smile crept across his face, unseen by the man. "Bairon," the boy muttered, though the man did hear it. The boy, amused, placed his hand on his face for a moment, then ran it through his pale blonde hair as he resumed walking.
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"...It's pretty fucked up that I metaphorically ate two souls," the boy muttered to himself while sitting comfortably on a sofa in his room.
He thought about his words for a while and then corrected himself, "Logically, one considering the other was just the future of this character.
""But still, it's pretty messed up considering that I have the memory of the first owner of this body, who had read a whole book about this world and this person... Lucas," he continued muttering.
The boy laughed, remembering something."So, both—no, all of us—had Lucas in our names. The current owner of this body, Michael Lucas. The previous, Jason Lucas. And the non-existent, Lucas Wykes. NICE!"
The boy chuckled to himself, a smirk playing on his face. "So, well, Mr. Jason, the previous person was specifically a bitch, considering he tried befriending everyone here while they all had a cold expression. Sweet, just a fool unworthy of the name Jason," he muttered, laughing softly.
"It's nice to have 'eaten' such a bitch. Anyway, Mr. Jason did give me a bit of info about this place, considering there's a war coming and blah blah blah," the boy continued, pausing for effect.
"And that Lucas Wykes will die," he added with a smirk. "Well, fuck that. Now that ain't gonna happen because I'm here. And also, the other thing Mr. Jason did great was having the cores ready because I wouldn't have had these ready due to focus issues,"
he said, laughing again as he mimicked smoking with his hand above his lips. "Habits don't die, huh," he muttered to himself, reflecting on his actions.
"And also, Mr. Author, stop referring to me as 'the boy.' I have a fucking name, goddamn it," the boy exclaimed, looking up at the ceiling of his room.
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