SLIME LEGION

Chapter 8: Plain Stupid

Walking down the hallway, I watched the maids bow respectfully as I passed.

Their eyes...

They weren’t afraid.

They were admiring me.

...

That was honestly starting to creep me out.

By every logical measure, this was weird. With Lorel’s reputation, I’d expected hidden looks of contempt or at least forced smiles.

Instead...

They genuinely seemed happy to see me.

...

Actually...

Why haven’t I seen a single male servant since coming here?

I know I command an army just like my siblings, so it’s not like men are absent from my life entirely.

But inside this mansion?

Nothing.

Just women.

Not that I’m complaining about being surrounded by beautiful maids, but it still feels odd.

...Maybe it was Lorel’s preference.

...

Right.

His memories. ƒrēewebnovel.com

He hated being around men.

At first I thought it was some kind of inferiority complex.

But...

Inferior about what?

No.

That doesn’t feel right.

There has to be another reason.

Maybe he simply didn’t want another man inside what he considered his home.

"If it isn’t the greatest prince of all time."

I frowned before I even turned around.

Of course.

Anthony.

Lorel’s only real friend.

A noble brat with an unmatched talent for causing problems.

The reason they got along was simple.

Anthony never cared that Lorel was talentless.

Never cared that he was a prince.

Never cared about status.

The idiot just wanted someone to have fun with.

It was probably why the Barion family had long since given up trying to fix him.

The guy was hopeless.

"What do you want, Tony?"

I wandered over to the softest couch in the room.

Mine.

Nobody had ever officially declared it, but everyone knew.

That couch belonged to me.

I couldn’t even remember who’d gifted it to Lorel. I just knew he’d had it for years and refused to sit anywhere else.

The moment I dropped onto it, the cushions swallowed me whole.

God...

This thing was heavenly.

I leaned back and finally looked at Anthony.

Midnight-blue hair.

Green eyes.

His hair reminded me of Moressa’s, except hers had a more obvious blue tint while his was so dark it almost looked black.

Messy as always.

Oddly enough, the unkempt look suited him.

He was lounging around like this was his own mansion.

Both feet rested on the oak table, which he’d clearly dragged closer just so he could prop them up comfortably.

In one hand was a bunch of grapes.

Well...

Not exactly.

A maid stood beside him holding the silver tray while His Highness the Professional Bum plucked grapes off it one by one.

The poor girl looked seconds away from committing murder.

If I had to guess, he’d refused to take the tray himself purely because annoying people entertained him.

Classic Anthony.

"You’ve been... quieter than usual."

He popped another grape into his mouth.

"Just came to see if you were still alive."

Then—

BAM!

"Huh?"

The tray exploded.

Not cracked.

Exploded.

Ceramic shards flew everywhere while grapes scattered across the floor.

What the hell?!

"I-I’m terribly sorry, Your Highness!"

The maid bowed so quickly I thought she’d snap in half before practically sprinting out of the room.

She never once looked at Anthony.

Anthony, meanwhile...

Sat frozen.

Still holding the grape he’d been about to eat.

The idiot had just watched death flash before his eyes.

"...You were saying?"

His eyes remained glued to the doorway long after the maid disappeared.

Slowly...

Very slowly...

He turned back toward me.

I could practically hear his heartbeat from here.

To be fair...

Mine wasn’t exactly calm either.

"Wanna go out?" he asked.

"Where?"

Same answer I’d given Moressa.

Honestly, I was bored.

But after digging through Lorel’s memories, I hadn’t found a single reason worth leaving the mansion.

"I heard there’s a racing event at Hestadam today. Plenty of nobles are entering."

The moment he said that, a grin spread across his face.

...

I instantly knew what he was thinking.

I wasn’t happy about that.

"You want us to enter and ruin the whole event."

I rubbed my forehead.

Lorel’s memories finally coughed up the missing piece.

There was one person Anthony absolutely despised.

With a passion.

And the reason?

The guy radiated protagonist energy.

At least, that’s how my brain categorized people.

I’d always had this weird internal ranking system.

The moment I met someone, my instincts would shove them into a category.

Background character.

Side character.

NPC.

Potential threat.

Main character.

This guy practically had MAIN CHARACTER tattooed across his forehead.

Which explained everything.

He was Mr. Perfect.

The bastard responsible for Anthony’s engagement to Anastasia falling apart.

From that day onward, Anthony had devoted himself to making the guy’s life miserable.

Whenever an opportunity appeared, he’d drag Lorel into it and abuse the prince’s status to make things difficult.

Lorel never refused.

Anthony was his only real friend.

Of course he’d help.

Unfortunately...

Every single attempt ended the same way.

Anthony looked like the villain.

Lorel looked like the villain.

Meanwhile, Prince Charming somehow walked away smelling like roses.

To make matters worse, Anastasia wasn’t even the only noble girl he’d charmed.

Apparently collecting women was one of his hidden talents.

Over time, hating the guy became a hobby the two idiots shared.

...

Actually...

That sounded familiar.

A little too familiar.

As Finn...

I’d had a similar problem.

Whenever I met someone who gave off "main character" vibes, something inside me wanted to tear them down.

Not kill them.

Nothing that dramatic.

I just...

Liked taking things away from them.

Their spotlight.

Their confidence.

Their girlfriend.

Especially their girlfriend.

Back in high school I’d spend weeks stealing some guy’s crush, date her for a few days...

Then dump her.

No reason.

No grand plan.

I just...

Enjoyed proving I could.

...

Fuck.

That sounds incredibly unhinged now that I’m saying it out loud.

"Sigh..."

"How exactly do we enter a competition that’s already started?"

I was bored enough to consider it.

The reasons were different now...

But the result would probably be the same.

Anthony grinned wider.

"I already handled that."

He swung his legs off the table and leaned forward.

"Everything’s prepared."

...Why do I suddenly feel like I’m about to get dragged into something incredibly stupid?