A few heartbeats passed before the two broke their locked gazes.
Clara couldn’t understand why this servant was so strangely behaved. She wanted to teach him a harsh lesson.
But if she looked closely, she would find he was weak and appeared extrely shaken. If she hurt him, she would have absolutely no one left to carry her bags.
Many passing students had offered her assistance, but she had refused due to her imnse pride.
Now, she had to bear the consequences of her own actions.
"Servant! Don’t stand there like a statue! Co out and carry the rest of the bags! Can you even hear properly?"
On the other side of the world—inside the mind of Sam, who found himself awake in a strange body, sleeping inside an odd carriage in another world—he realized life was truly unfair.
Even after acquiring the famous experience of transmigration (reincarnation), he had to endure the sha once more.
Should he now bla himself for wishing to be a servant in his next life? He truly regretted it here.
If he had to be a servant, he at least wished to be a servant in a simple noble house, not this level of literary complexity.
’Isn’t this the Academy? Wow, the internet heretics were right.’
In an exaggerated turn of events, the situation had beco deeply unpleasant for Clara, who was now utterly raging.
The furious girl gripped her long leather whip, pulling it out from her dinsional ring. She swung it forcefully forward.
The whip coiled like a malicious snake around Sam’s foot without rcy or warning.
Before he could even let out a moan or cry of shock, she used superhuman strength to violently drag him towards the cargo carriage and hurled him inside.
"You brought this upon yourself!"
He had almost forgotten who this girl was. He must not make a mistake again, because the next ti, there was no guarantee she wouldn’t sever his head.
"Now, carry the bags, load them onto the stands, and drag them to my private wing! And if I see you slacking off, you will taste the lash of my whip on your backside!"
And so, the dark ages performance of servitude began.
Sam montarily forgot himself. He couldn’t begin to imagine his plan in this new world.
He only heard the sound of the whip striking the ground beside him and saw the malicious gaze of the girl as she lashed the floor re milliters away from him to terrify him.
The wretched man loaded bags of potions, costics, perfus, accessories, jewelry, and clothes for the girl onto his back and frail new physique.
He wanted to weep for the remains of his forr self, but he chose to ignore it.
Sam dragged the bags, his joints failing him, anticipating the complete destruction of the rest of his body.
After a few monts of delay,
Clara felt she would waste her youth waiting here for this servant to finish.
She had to leave imdiately to attend the first class before Edmund arrived.
If he saw her late, she would fall from his estimation... She definitely had to hurry.
She decided that she would carry so of the bags... the light ones, of course.
What kind of lunatic noblewoman would prefer to appear barbaric, carry things on her back, and ruin her makeup and overall look.
Even her carrying these few bags was a significant amount
As she picked up two of the valuable branded bags and prepared to place them on the pulling carts,
her eyes caught sight of a harsh scene...
It was a duo from the Barbarian Tribe—the Chief’s sons—who were carrying mountains of bags on their backs, walking with simple strides as if they carried nothing at all.
"Tsk... A bunch of savages."
Sam was watching the two as they walked past them.
’Wow... the character designs are truly perfect.’
He remained standing, staring at them as they moved like cals, complete with humps on their backs.
But all he received was the sound of the whip striking the ground beside him like lightning, making him spring back in fear like a coil.
"Hurry up! Don’t just stand there!"
Damn you, you truly are a Villainess.
The technique was important, right?
Sam rembered a thod he had once read about for securing weight onto the strongest muscles.
It should have been the correct way.
Work smart, not hard... but what did you expect? Our bro’s body was as weak as a rat.
In the end, a gentle collapse was always waiting for him anyway.
He hooked several bags together, lifted them with questionable optimism, threw them over his shoulders, then dragged them onto the carts.
He had no idea how to operate the cart.
He slamd his foot onto the only pedal he saw.
He and the cart shot forward instantly.
He clung to the fra like a man negotiating with death as the overloaded cart lost balance.
A mont later, the whole thing flipped on its side in the middle of the Academy courtyard.
Dozens of students watched silently as Sam stood frozen in the center of the wreckage, unable to move and unable to pretend he had any dignity left.
Indeed, such is life.
After several minutes, the workers and servants who had left earlier were able to return... and help him, finish loading all the cargo, and allow Clara to head to her first class.
He felt a shiver down his spine from Clara’s gaze.
However, he felt a slight relief when he heard he would be returning to the Smorgoth Duchy.
And all this would finally end.
Just as the servants were about to climb into the carriages and start the engines to return...
But before Sam could board the carriage he had woken up in:
"Wait! What are you doing?"
"Are you speaking to ?"
"Yes, you! What do you think you’re doing?"
Miss Clara’s accompanying guard, the elderly Knight Monart, radiating prestige, looked down at Sam’s face with intense contempt.
"What is your na, servant?"
Sam did not know the na of this servant or the na of his new body, so he stated his na from his past life.
"Sam, sir. My na is Sam Wells."
"Sam, you will remain here with ..."
Sam was perplexed by the words, but he didn’t get the chance to complete his astonishnt, as Monart continued:
"The Young Lady has chosen you as her personal servant. You will be her attendant throughout her entire period at the Academy... You should be proud of yourself! Not even your ancestors’ ancestors would have been granted this opportunity!"
The news kept coming, and the shocks just wouldn’t stop.
Even so of us might start to feel bad .
This fellow didn’t wish for much in life... After dying from food poisoning, he strangely discovered he had transmigrated to another world.
And not only that, but to the world of his favorite novel: An Exceptional Experience in the Heroes’ Academy. The matter, at first, could only have been a dream.
He even beca a servant. Although this was no great achievent, this fellow was perfectly satisfied.
He did not want to interfere with the plotline in any way.
He would simply work for a few years until the Villainess launched her rebellion, then he would leave and live quietly in a secluded place.
"Isn’t that too simple...? These are the dreams of the poor that can actually co true."
But it doesn’t matter.
What’s the problem? He can adapt, no matter what happens. He must maintain his composure.
Within half an hour, the attendant Monart inford him about the Academy’s facilities and took him on a tour.
Although Sam knew the Academy, the world’s designs were astonishing.
He knew what was happening now on the first day of the Academy: The lesser students would try to belittle Edmund for being the weakest prince and a disgrace to the Royal Family.
But one of the heroines intervenes... A cliché, right? No.
In reality, these two were manipulated by the Villainess herself so she could intervene, defend Edmund, and appear as the savior in his eyes.
However, the plan failed.
He wanted to be among the students, attend the event, and watch the free drama. It was a once-in-a-lifeti opportunity.
But... before he could complete his thought, he was dragged to the Villainess’s room, or as we can call it, the Villainess’s wing.
He was shoved inside, and the order was clear: Arrange all the belongings in the room perfectly.
"Wait, isn’t this supposed to be the Academy workers’ job?"
"Don’t ask . Those are the Young Lady’s orders."
Damn it... I want to cry.
But crying wouldn’t help, so he dragged his already exhausted body. He began by just staring at the sheer number of potions, tools, books, and costics.
"Who needs all this...?"
An hour later, he had only finished arranging half the items.
Then Clara arrived, a moving mass of fury within the space.
She found what looked like a corpse lying on its stomach... moaning in pain.
But near this man, who was in a rather unpleasant state,
A suspicious, glowing, holographic window appeared before him... visible only to him.
[Host... Congratulations... Your eligibility for the Primary System has been successfully confird... The Pivotal Servant System. Here, you are the most important servant in the events.]
"Hahaha.... Haha... Fuck it!"
He had completely lost his mind.
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