Anyway, the quest was to find the Golden Claw. Without completing the quest, even if she used so trick to return to the original ti period, she couldn't be sure if 'logout' would be possible. Rather than potentially getting into trouble and wandering alone 13 years later without Cider Claiborne, it was better to clear the quest here with his help.
"This is settled then, so why did you co? You looked tired."
"Who made
tired...... Mrs. Lux told
to bring sandwiches. She said she won't let
out unless we finish everything."
She tried the door handle just in case, and it was locked. Is this okay?
"Lord Avondale, are you really the master of the house?"
"In that I have spare keys, I do seem to still be the master of the house."
He said while shaking a key ring he took out from a drawer. There was no way Mrs. Lux didn't know about that.
"But let's respect our housekeeper's opinion for now. Though the sandwiches have gotten cold."
Still, they were edible. The chef's skills were excellent. Even making just sandwiches, he made them with crispy outside and fluffy inside bread, putting thin ham, vegetables, at, and sauce in proper proportions. Even each small cut sandwich had slightly different contents.
'They say it's a virtual world based on 19th century London, but they couldn't bring British food for the als too.'
This was also quite an important elent in virtual reality gas. If you wanted to eat sothing tasteless, you could just make it yourself—there was no need to enter a ga specifically to eat it. Moreover, if you paid money to have delicious als in the ga, that much money wouldn't be available for other things, and players would inevitably spend real money.
It was fortunate. When enjoying it as a ga, even if the food was tasteless, you could just co out and eat sothing delicious, but now that wasn't possible.
"Finish eating and go rest."
"......."
She thought they'd talk about the troll hide after finishing eating. However, Cider said while wiping his hands.
"You're not in the right state of mind to talk now."
"?"
"Yes."
She was fine though. However, Cider spoke at a brainwashing level. 'You're not in a proper state of mind right now and need to go back and rest.'
She wondered why he was like that, but it seed he just wanted to finish his research. Always so selfish. Anyway, since tomorrow and the day after also had no special schedule, resting wasn't bad either. Esperanza returned to her room after mocking Cider a bit.
Lying on the bed and just looking at the ceiling, the quest window caught her eye. A small exclamation mark was floating. They should make things like this more visible. When she pressed the exclamation mark, a window popped up with a whirring sound.
[Quest: Find the Golden Claw!]
Progress: (1/???)
Completion Rewards
—Title: Master of Ti
—Items: Golden Claw, Return Ticket (Ho)
What did she do for it to go up by 1? Was it because of the troll hide?
Surprising. If just that was enough to raise it by 1, the number inside '???' seed like it would be bigger than expected. She hadn't thought it would be a three-digit number, but it might really exceed the hundreds.
'Can I actually return?'
She stretched out her hand that had been covered in blood. Actually, she wasn't sure. Was this really inside a ga? Looking at the quest window in front of her, it seed so, but doubt crept into her mind.
They made a city from 13 years ago this perfectly? For server closure? Did that even make sense?
Moreover, two weeks had already passed.
'What happened to my body in reality?'
??????°??☆????°??????
The next day, Cider unusually woke up early in the morning and went out. Esperanza, who had woken up late according to his lifestyle pattern, heard that the Count had already gone out and asked the butler.
"Can Lord Avondale wake up before twelve o'clock?"
She thought he was a human without functions like 'sleep early and wake up early'?
The butler, who noticed that thought, smiled awkwardly.
"Though the Count hasn't shown very exemplary behavior, he has no choice but to attend when Parliant calls. When he returns, he'll probably take a nap."
"Ah."
Only then did it make sense. The Count should realize he had given his guest such prejudice after seeing him for just a few weeks.
Butler Howard added that he would be quite busy for a while. Rather, he'd be less busy when Parliant was in session, but busiest just before it opened. He said he'd be called here and there for the next month or so.
"Then research would be difficult too, right?"
She couldn't imagine Cider Claiborne unable to do research.
"Well, for other people it would be, but our Count just cuts into his sleeping ti to do research......"
Ah.
"He neglects territorial affairs. It's really fortunate that the timing when Parliant opens and when territories are busy are different."
That would be unavoidable given the nature of the upper house composed of lords. And the fact that territories were less busy and nobles gathered because of Parliant also ant the beginning of the social season.
"You should also have clothes made and show your face at social events. It would be terrible if you resembled the Count."
"Lord Avondale doesn't go out in society much, does he?"
The butler's eyes beca triangular. aning what kind of temperant would go out? That was true. Originally, mad scientists and social activities were far apart.
"This year should be better since you're here."
But since she also had no particular interest in society, what the butler was counting on was no different from a worthless check.
"Parliant....."
Co to think of it, high nobles would gather in Parliant. Then might there be so information?
??????°??☆????°??????
"There isn't."
The man who habitually smiled pulled down his hat brim. It ant he would be going now. The elderly gentleman grabbed him and said.
"Don't be like that. Count, aren't you already in your mid-twenties?"
His tied-down blonde hair swayed. Cider firmly pulled out his caught shoulder. The elderly gentleman hurriedly added.
"I an you should think about marriage now too. Research, good. I know how important your research is. But wouldn't research shine even more after forming a family? Don't just dismiss it as an old man's worry."
It was roughly bullshit. Family and research had no relation whatsoever. Rather, if soone new who needed attention ca into the house, research ti would decrease and things would just beco botherso.
The face of soone new who had entered the house and needed attention flashed through his mind.
Of course, that wasn't necessarily always the case. A smile played around his lips.
"You speak correctly."
The elderly gentleman brightened. He thought he'd be treated as talking nonsense, but was delighted that this smart and arrogant young Count seed to be listening to his words.
"Right. It's a good idea. Since it's also social season, look for a bride. I'm really curious who will beco the next Countess Avondale."
Cider raised one corner of his mouth wickedly.
"Doesn't Count Riphaely have a daughter? I believe she debuted in society this year?"
The face of the elderly gentleman, Count Riphaely, who had been laughing heartily, turned pale. Count Avondale was objectively an excellent groom candidate who wouldn't be embarrassing to introduce to others. His appearance was excellent and his manners weren't bad, so noble ladies and young misses liked him too.
But as a son-in-law, unless you were crazy?
If you married off your daughter blinded by the Countess title, she would age trying to see the face of a husband who never ca out of his research lab. He wouldn't provide political support to his father-in-law either. Count Riphaely's eighteen-year-old daughter didn't matter, so she had urged him to at least put in a word, but how could he do such a thing? The elderly gentleman did his best to deflect.
"My, my daughter is a bit young. How, how about my niece! My niece is now twenty, so the age difference with you would be small."
Tap. Cider's cane hit the marble floor of Parliant. His pretty face smiled toward the elderly gentleman. For a smile, it was strangely firm.
"Since her father would probably say the sa thing, you'd understand if I said I dislike it, right?"
Leaving behind the speechless elderly gentleman, Count Avondale headed for his carriage. Though not flashy, his carriage as a magical engineer was more functional than a duke's carriage. Just the fact that the door opened automatically showed that. The elderly gentleman smacked his lips.
"If only he weren't son-in-law material...... he'd be quite good."
"That's what everyone else thinks too, which is the problem."
His aide was right. Count Riphaely sighed. Anyway, his late-born daughter's marriage was more important to him than so twenty-five-year-old man.
He didn't care at all that he had spoiled soone's mood.
The person in question, Cider Rus Claiborne, was in low spirits all the way until getting off the steam carriage. He had wasted 30 minutes caught by a ddleso old man and even heard unnecessary interference.
Thirty minutes was ti to change dozens of gears and fix half a dozen circuits. Shouldn't Count Riphaely pay compensation for listening to his nagging?
"Count...... are, are you alright?"
Coachman Taylor spoke without reading the mood. Cider sighed.
"Forget it. Go inside."
Still, coming ho made him feel sowhat alive. There were no useless things here to tornt him. The employees always maintained courtesy and boundaries, and even when they occasionally crossed the line, they showed appropriate wit. Like Mrs. Lux yesterday.
Those so-called ladies and gentlen, even when dressed in fine clothes and sitting solemnly in Parliant, acted worse than working-class employees—they should be ashad.
Cider, who entrusted his hat and cane to the butler and his outer coat to Millen, headed straight to the study.
"Ah, in the study......"
Millen tried to say sothing, but Cider had already opened the study door. He noticed a small chair and temporary desk had been brought out instead of the chair he used.
"Esperanza. Why are you here?"
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