A bright morning arrived after a long, exhausting night for Al.
But his precious sleep—along with his dream of lazing around—was rudely interrupted.
In his new, luxurious, and spacious bedroom, Al should have been able to sleep soundly and wake up late, as usual. But—"ONE TWO THREE FOUR ONE TWO THREE FOUR!!"—the barked command from outside his window shattered that plan.
Al groaned, pressing a pillow over his head and kicking his legs against the bed like a sulking child.
"Ughhh... So noisy. Don’t they know not everyone in this world lives like them?"
With sluggish movents, he cracked one eye open and drew back the curtains.
The side hall of the main house—the very place where he had once been punished—was now being used for the morning drills of the Virellano family’s private troops, led by Uncle Acok. They had arrived only last night, but the man was already brimming with energy as he shouted orders.
The air was thick with the sll of sweat and damp earth, the clanging of weapons, and the heavy stomps of soldiers that sent dust swirling into the air. Commands bounced off the stone walls, mixing with the gasps of exertion from the hard-training troops.
Dedy, despite his injuries, was overseeing Vianna’s special training. Vianna, as spirited as ever, was sending kicks and punches flying at her sparring partners. Even from afar, the "thud!" of her strikes could be heard clearly, forcing her opponents to stagger back with grimaces.
"Oh, great... I thought moving here would be better. Turns out, the old place was way more peaceful. I miss my quiet old room..." His shoulders slumped, eyes half-lidded.
Still groggy from yesterday’s overexertion, Al headed downstairs, passing the long hallway of the mansion. A few servants were busy setting up an extravagant breakfast at the main dining table.
He didn’t stop—only glanced and walked past, eyes blank, feet dragging slightly. He was used to skipping breakfast with the family. The atmosphere here was too formal, too stiff, and too alien for his taste.
Instead, he headed outside toward a large shady tree at the edge of the yard. With a light hop, he climbed onto one of its wide branches and lay back.
The cool air, combined with the morning breeze ruffling his hair, felt perfect. Through the leaves, the sky was turning blue—a rare comfort in this dry season.
"This is nice... finally, I can get back to sleep—"
But...
Before his eyes could fully close, sothing startled him.
A face. Right in front of his.
"UWAHHHH!!!"
His eyes flew wide, body jerking back instinctively—only for him to tumble off the branch.
Thud!
"Ughhh... my back..." he groaned, clutching his waist.
Looking up, he saw Uncle Acok sitting casually on the branch he’d just fallen from. With a precise, elegant jump, the man landed right in front of him.
"Not bad. You managed to climb that high. That branch is pretty tall," Acok said with a stiff smile.
"Ughhh... What are you doing here, Uncle? Trying to apologize again?" Al asked, raising an eyebrow, his voice flat.
"Don’t remind about last night—unless you want your stay here to get... uncomfortable," Acok said curtly.
"Then why bother ? Are you spying on ?"
"Not spying. More like... observing. I’m curious about who you really are."
Uncle Acok crossed his arms at his waist.
"Didn’t my parents already explain?" Al asked, sighing and rubbing his face.
"They did. I never expected you to be their biological son. I’d heard rumors before you showed up that young master David wasn’t blood-related." Acok’s gaze sharpened. "But I still can’t wrap my head around how a stray like you could be their real child."
"What did you expect from a baby who was thrown away at birth? You think I’d grow up living like the rich after being dumped in an orphanage?" Al’s tone was lazy, but his eyes were cold.
Uncle Acok looked away. "Fair point."
"Then quit bothering and mind your own business," Al said sharply, swatting the air as if shooing a fly.
Uncle Acok nodded—not in agreent, but because an idea had just sparked in his head.
"I’m not here to bother you. But you climbed this tree half-asleep, which ans you’re not as weak as you look."
"Ah, that... I’m just used to running away from problems. So?" Al replied, half-lazy, half-sarcastic.
Uncle Acok leaned forward slightly, hands on hips.
"You got ti? I’ll train you to be stronger. Think of it as an apology for wrecking your room last night."
"Train ? No thanks. I’m perfectly fine living—"
Before he could finish, Uncle Acok grabbed his arm.
"No excuses. Just co with ."
Al’s body jerked, eyes going wide, heels dragging against the ground like a toddler being hauled off for a bath.
"Uncle Asokk... I don’t want to—"
"My na is Acok, with a C. Not Asok with an S," the man snapped, stopping to glare at him.
"You’re a Virellano—and a direct bloodline at that. You should have sothing to be proud of. All I’ve heard about you is that you’re stupid, wild, rude, lazy, and—worse—a pervert. You think your status will ever be made public with a reputation like that?"
Al’s jaw tightened, and he took a long breath.
"I get it. But whoever spread those lies... I reject all of them except the ’lazy’ part," he said, crossing his arms.
"Doesn’t matter if you reject them. They’re facts," Uncle Acok retorted before dragging Al away again. "Whether your reputation is bad or not, you need sothing to show for yourself. They say you like to fight—then improve that. Learn martial arts. Because improving that useless brain of yours is impossible."
Al stayed silent after that, his expression flat but his lips relaxing slightly—a sign of reluctant acceptance. What Uncle Acok said wasn’t wrong, not about the insults, but about having sothing normal to be recognized for.
Even if he’d been accepted, he hadn’t truly been acknowledged.
anwhile, Uncle Acok smirked.
Got you, brat, he thought, already plotting how to ss with Al.
When they reached the training hall, the Virellano troops were resting after an intense session. The air inside was hot and stuffy, thick with the stench of sweat and the tallic tang of weapons leaning against the walls. So soldiers sat on the floor gulping water, others stretched their gleaming, sweat-slicked muscles. In one corner, the scrape of cloth against a blade rang out as soone polished their sword.
Vianna was gone. Dedy sat off to the side, still sore from last night’s incident.
When Al walked in, dragged by Uncle Acok, all eyes turned toward them.
"Starting today, this young master will train with you," Uncle Acok announced.
Al yanked his hand free, frowning. "Wait—you an every day?"
"Of course."
"You’re serious?"
Uncle Acok nodded.
"I’m not doing it."
Al certainly didn’t want to waste his ti joining these people every day. However, everyone assud he was just scared and lazy, as his reputation in this house suggested.
Silence hung in the air for a mont... then the hall erupted in laughter.
"Hahahaha! For real? That lazy brat? I think he’s hopeless—training him as a servant would probably suit him better than training him as a fighter, haha!"
"Man, imagine losing to a skinny kid like him. That’d be embarrassing."
"I bet he’s already scared."
The mocking voices ca from soldiers in need of morning entertainnt—and today, Al was their cody act.
He just scratched his head, lips twitching slightly before he sighed in boredom. He almost felt like he was dying just standing there.
Even Dedy chuckled quietly—but for a different reason.
His smile was faint, his gaze low. Not because it was funny... but because he knew they had no idea who Al really was.
If only they knew who they were laughing at... he thought, a faint, almost pitying smile on his lips. But he also knew Al had no intention of revealing what he was truly capable of.
"Rember, you will join. You’re part of this family. This is your responsibility. It’ll be your path forward," Uncle Acok said firmly.
Al stared at him for a long mont, his flat gaze almost piercing—but he said nothing.
Taking his silence as agreent, Uncle Acok continued, "Good. You understand. We’ll start with light stretches. Young Master Al, line up in front."
Huff... This is gonna be annoying, Al thought.
He complied, standing in the back row. His face was expressionless, his posture so lazy it looked like he might collapse any second.
The soldiers eyed him with smug grins, trying to stifle chuckles.
So rembered last night, when he humiliated their commander. They’d also heard gossip from the mansion staff—how Al wasn’t really treated as part of the family. With that in mind, they didn’t think twice about ssing with him.
Al noticed it all, but didn’t care. His eyelids lowered slightly as if he might nap standing up. He’d heard enough insults here to last a lifeti.
But in his eyes... there was a glint.
And on his lips—a faint smile. Not warm, but sly.
And so... training began.
None of them knew the terrifying thing they were about to witness.
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