The only thing Miles hated more than human food was their clothing—especially in this part of the world.
Visiting the Tudor family for the first time in decades was no small event, and Robert wanted Miles to look his best. The 19th-century nobleman suit he was forced to wear was made with exquisite taste; however, it was very uncomfortable for him. Especially since the Sin of Lust's preferred clothing for several thousand years had always been kimonos.
This piece of clothing was what he always referred to as humanity's greatest invention. Now, he was stuck in another world with a completely different dressing style.
The carriage halted in front of the Tudor family mansion, and Elizabeth sighed loudly. Meeting the family that had openly rejected her numerous times was a dreadful experience. In their opinion, she was unfit to be a member of the family based on her background. The marriage had only lasted this long because Robert refused to let go and had severed ties with his family.
On paper, people speculated that the family was split due to Robert's political stance, but in reality, it was because of her.
"Let's get this over with," Robert exhaled nervously and exited the carriage, with Miles and Elizabeth trailing behind.
Outside, they saw a few members of the family waiting, along with a butler standing behind them. After reading the family biography, Miles was well-informed about the faces present—or at least the important ones.
In a wheelchair sat his great-grandfather, the one who put the Tudor family on the map with the Gno-static gun invention. The man was over ninety years old, but there was still a youthful spark in his eyes. According to Robert, this was the only member of the family who was on his side.
"Is that my great-grandchild?" Alaric Tudor's voice was shaky and feeble, but the joy in his tone was undeniable.
He gestured for Miles to approach. Not waiting for approval from his parents, Miles walked straight to the old man.
"Hey, kiddo, what's your name?" Alaric shook Miles' tiny hand with a smile glued to his aged face.
"Miles… Miles Tudor," Miles played along, wearing a look of excitement.
The old man's grin widened, and he raised his gaze to meet Robert and Elizabeth's.
"After twenty years of waiting, you finally gave me my great-grandchild," he said as the duo bowed slightly to the old man.
While they spoke, Miles' cold gaze never left Alaric. The man had aged considerably and was only a few years away from the grave.
Would that be enough time for him to make the Tudor family his?
"Let's go inside. We have a lot to talk about." Miles tugged on Alaric's shirt with an innocent smile, stealing the old man's attention.
Nodding with a smile, Alaric turned to the butler standing behind him. The man had stunning gray hair and a beard that made his head look a bit too big for his lean physique.
"Let's go and have breakfast."
With that, Alaric was wheeled away, with Miles following by his side. They chatted about Miles' favorite hobbies, which he reduced to reading and building to win his old man's attention.
Thankfully, his parents weren't too shy to share more noteworthy achievements, like how he began speaking and reading at a very young age—plus how he had asked for newspapers as his birthday gift just a few days ago.
They say when you speak to a successful man, first impressions matter. It would be accurate to say old man Alaric was stunned and excited upon hearing his great-grandson was a genius.
Upon arriving at the dining hall, Miles noticed the table was filled with different types of food. However, only three people were seated at the extravagant dining table, large enough for twenty.
Instantly, Miles recognized them from the pictures he had seen.
The first was an old man, half bald like Robert, but with gray hair and a shabby-looking mustache—Sir Renginald Tudor, his grandfather. According to Robert, he was a strict and stubborn man.
His apprehensive eyes lingered on Miles for a while, showing a contradictory mixture of longing and repulsion.
Next was Edwin Tudor, Robert's father, who didn't even bother waiting for them and ate silently. The last was Robert's elder sister and only sibling, Catherine Tudor—a lady in her late thirties who had refused to marry and focused on carrying her father's legacy.
The reunion was not only incomplete but awkward. Only the important members of the family were present.
Everyone sat down. No greetings, no hugs, no small talk—just an oppressive silence that made Miles cringe.
"Nice of you to visit after two decades or so," Renginald was the first to strike, his voice filled with contempt.
Edwin shrugged and rolled his eyes before adding, "I'm sure he came back because his political career is suffering."
"We are all suffering."
Miles' squeaky voice broke through the tension with a calmness no four-year-old should possess.
The room fell silent, and heads snapped in his direction. The boy stood on his chair so that he could be seen and heard.
A scoff came from Catherine, who glared at Miles viciously before shifting her attention to Elizabeth.
"You begged for a child for two decades, and when you finally got one, you can't even raise him right?" Catherine snarled.
"You must be stupid!" Robert slammed the table and yelled.
"At least I have a child!" Elizabeth yelled back.
The entire scene was chaotic as all sides began hurling insults and curses. Miles knew the family was a mess, but he didn't think it was this bad.
"That's enough!" Alaric's voice roared through the hall, and the room fell silent instantly.
The old man inhaled and exhaled deeply several times, clearly worn out from the outburst. His gaze shifted to Miles and softened once more.
"You said we are all suffering. Tell me what you mean."
Miles nodded with a small smile playing on his lips.
"The same family threatening my dad's job also threatens to take our family's position as the top inventors in the city," Miles said. "It's better to die than to be forgotten."
Silence…
The room was quiet for a few seconds before Alaric started clapping and laughing.
"Good, good. So what do we do about it?"
The old man seemed to be testing Miles—to understand the limitations of his knowledge and intelligence. Miles wasted no time pulling up three fingers.
"A talent user, new innovations and inventions, and finally, the Tudor family needs to stand as one," Miles said confidently.
Catherine scoffed and rolled her eyes.
"When you find a talent user in our family, come back and talk to me."
"I have a talent."
The room fell silent except for Catherine, who began choking on her orange juice. Everyone was confused, including Elizabeth. Only Robert remained calm, even wearing a proud smile.
Two days ago, when Miles approached him with his silly plan, he had also revealed that he had a talent. As a father who had created the first talent user of the family, Robert was drowning in pride.
"You knew?" Elizabeth slapped his shoulder, and the two began whispering in hushed tones.
Alaric clapped and laughed harder, leaning forward.
"Tell me, what kind of power does my great-grandchild inherit?"
Snap!
Without saying a word, Miles snapped his fingers, and a purple tongue of fire burst beside him, burning brightly as everyone jerked back in shock.
A violet hue filled the dining room as the purple flames began to flow like water. Another Miles formed in midair, standing next to the original.
"Foxfire," both Miles and the mirage spoke simultaneously. "My purple fire is called Veil of Mirage. It allows me to create illusions."
As the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox in his prime, Asmodeus once wielded nine types of foxfire, each with its unique ability. This display wasn't even worthy of being called scratching the surface of his powers.
That was an insult.
The entire family watched in silence, exchanging shocked glances as Miles and his clone spoke in unison. After a moment, the clone fizzled out like smoke, and Miles exhaled loudly, beads of sweat running down his forehead.
Currently, he had only five energy points—barely enough to cast his ability. Spending more talent points in his Primal Soul would solve this problem, but now wasn't the time.
Grabbing the folded paper, Miles got down from his seat, walked over to Alaric's end of the table, and handed it to him.
"I am the answer to the second question as well. I will constantly provide you all with new, innovative inventions in the span of six months. The announcement of both the invention, the talent user, and the reunion of the Tudor family should push the Martins to the sidelines for a while," Miles explained as Alaric unfolded the paper.
"We can ride on that momentum and reclaim every single supporter the Martins have stolen from us."
Miles returned to his seat and silently waited for a response. He could hear his grenade blueprint being passed around the room while Elizabeth asked Robert in a hushed but annoyed tone what was on the paper.
"He… He drew this himself?" Alaric stammered, gazing at the design, measurements, and notes.
Everything was flawless. It made no sense that a four-year-old would come up with this.
"I was just as stunned as you a few days ago," Robert chuckled loudly.
Miles watched as everyone tried to process the information. Then, he rose to his feet once again with a sinister smile on his face. He licked his lips and rubbed his palms together, waiting for their confusion to subside before bringing up the main point behind this meeting.
Royalties.
As the inventor of these products, he planned to profit from them. Gaining the Tudor family's support was not enough—he needed to build an identity and a reputation beyond his family.