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The man lying on the sofa was, of course, Keter. Then why had Butler Forty-Two stumbled back in shock? It was because when he lifted the jacket covering the man’s face, he found himself locking eyes directly with Keter.
“W-weren’t you sleeping, sir?”
“I just woke up.”
Keter stretched lazily as he rose from the sofa.
“Ugh... So? What’s the rush? Why are you looking for me?”
Clearing his throat awkwardly, Butler Forty-Two replied, “Ahem, Lord Keter, we’ve completed all preparations for the surgery you requested. Please come with me immediately.”
Keter waved his hand through the air as if swatting at a fly.
“If you don’t know better, you should have just stayed quiet. You think I forgot? The surgery’s happening tonight.”
“Tonight? Why wait until nighttime for surgery?”
Keter, annoyed, waved his hand again.
“Even if I explained, you wouldn’t get it. Curette, or whatever that old man’s name is, will understand. Go ask him.”
“But even if the surgery is set for tonight, shouldn’t you at least examine Lord Ryze now and prepare? I may not know much about surgery, but I do know correcting a rare condition isn’t easy…”
“You know it’s not easy, but you still don’t understand my personality?”
“...?!”
“Do you not understand what I’m saying? When the time comes, I’ll prepare and show up myself, so get lost.”
“...Understood. I’ll see you later, then.”
Butler Forty-Two gave up on trying to deal with Keter. He had never in his life met a noble who was so utterly uncooperative.
Does he have no fear of the Eslow family?
Even high nobles wouldn’t dare treat the vassals of the Eslow family with disdain. Even Myle, sitting nearby, showed...
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