...Scared? (Plus Conversion Complete)
I'd say I had a pretty deep appreciation for "tea," even in my previous life.
Saving a dying patient was a battle against every passing second, but amid the chaos, tea time was the one ritual that let a doctor's heart reclaim a human rhythm.
And maybe that's why.
The aroma wafting from the Argent Family Head's room felt familiar at the tip of my nose.
The deep, sweet scent unique to Keemun black tea, with hints of thickly brewed honey and dried fruits lingering in the air.
Being the Family Head's quarters, even a single cup of tea carried the refinement of royalty.
I elegantly lifted the teacup by its handle and spoke.
"Mmm~ Wonderful aroma. The cinnamon mixed in with the black tea makes that final bitterness especially exquisite."
In one hand, I savored the scent as I held the teacup, while in the other, I dangled a mana grenade that would go boom with the slightest slack in my grip.
In that room where all the heirs held their breath, I was the only one enjoying tea time.
Before me sat my two older brothers and two older sisters... with Syl Argent in particular glaring at me like she wanted to kill me right there. But in front of the family, a smile was always "proper etiquette."
So I flashed her a grin.
Sipping my tea, shaking the grenade, toying with the entire room's atmosphere.
"Lucas Argent. Do you even grasp the meaning of what you're doing right now... on your own?"
My eldest brother, Wolfram, finally spoke up.
True to form for someone eyeing the family head's seat, he was trying to maintain his stern composure even with a mana grenade that could blow at any moment right in front of him. That bravado.
I get it.
A successor to a dark family like this needed that kind of guts.
Wolfram gripped the hilt of his sword in one hand, glaring at me sharply as if ready to slit my throat at any second.
Without the grenade, he probably would've charged already.
I lightly swirled my teacup in response.
"What do you mean? Just enjoying a cozy family tea time, that's all. Haha."
"Tea time...? Does this look like tea time to you?!"
"You madman! You can still stomach tea in a situation like this? Disgusting!"
As Wolfram erupted, Seratina jabbed a finger sharply toward me.
"How can someone with Argent blood be this barbaric? Threatening Syl is bad enough—you're really going all out, aren't you?!"
"Right! You filthy bastard...! And that teacup is mine! Father gave it to me to use!"
Syl was hiding behind her sister's skirt, spewing a mix of grievance and fury.
And Walter... he just stared daggers at me in silence.
That glare said it all.
'I hope that bastard trash drops dead right here today.'
All four of them surrounded me, scolding me like they were the good older siblings disciplining the baby of the family.
At least on the surface.
But as I gazed quietly at each of them... a smile tugged at my lips unbidden.
And the next moment.
"Pfft... heh heh heh heh—"
"Wha, what...?"
"He's... laughing...?"
The sound leaking from my mouth grew louder.
I tried to stop, but it only burst out more.
"Lucas Argent. Have you finally lost your mind?!"
"No? I'm not crazy."
I set down my teacup as I replied.
"I'm just laughing at how ridiculous you all are."
"Ridic... ulous?"
I drew a breath, but the laughter bubbled up again immediately.
At the sheer disgust of this bean powder dark family's successors putting on their discordant tantrum show.
I gave the grenade a little shake and explained point by point to these idiots what was wrong.
"If I'm a bastard, discard me. If I'm blood, look after me. Pick one."
The air in the room froze solid as the words landed.
"I'm the dirty bastard, but since I'm Argent blood, keep up appearances—what the hell am I supposed to dance to? What kind of bean powder family logic is this?"
The room turned as silent as an ice chamber.
"Am I the crazy one? Or—"
I slowly swept my gaze across my siblings seated opposite me at the table.
"Are you?"
At that single line, all four faces twisted in unison.
Rage surged, bewilderment flashed, shame and disgust mingled openly on their expressions.
But not one opened their mouth.
Because the truth I'd just nailed them with was something even they couldn't refute.
The original Lucas would've groveled with something like "Oh, thank you~ Even this is attention!"
But I'm not that spineless idiot.
And right then, a chilling presence swept through the room.
"So, what is it you want to say."
"...!"
"Fa, Family Head!"
One cold, dry sentence stole all the warmth from the room in an instant.
From the moment I first entered this place, I'd sensed 'that man alone is dangerous.'
A white-haired man shrouded in a pallid, worn aura like old death itself.
Agram Argent.
The final black curtain of Vengeful Goddesses.
Lucas's father—and a monster who, even in the original story, never once called Lucas his "child."
That monster was looking at me now.
His beast-like, narrowly slit pupils fixed on my eyes, devouring them.
"You're not pulling this stunt just to get attention. Get to the point."
"Family Head! No need to indulge a bastard like this!"
"Exactly! We'll handle—"
"Quiet."
One word.
But the moment that syllable dropped, Wolfram and Seratina bowed as if their breath had been cut off.
Their mouths froze mid-sentence, gripped by something unseen.
Agram didn't even blink.
Eyes like a void, utterly empty abysses devoid of any light.
That hollow gaze seemed to swallow every bit of warmth in the room.
'Ah, so this is why he's the final boss in the original.'
The thought rose unbidden.
And ironically, seeing my bickering older siblings—who'd been yapping at my heels—shut their mouths completely with one word from him actually felt refreshing.
The room's mood was in the toilet, but I could only grin wider and continue.
"Ah, it's nothing major. When us Argent successors clash, there's always that one way we handle it, right?"
"...Speak."
"A duel."
Agram's pupils quivered ever so slightly.
The other four heirs' faces hardened.
"Are you referring to 'Proxy Blood Fate'?"
"Yes. That."
I nodded lightly, giving the grenade another shake.
"Put up slaves to fight for us, settle it one-on-one, and the loser pays up clean... A family tradition befitting one that grew by selling slaves, that whole messy custom we've always done."
Proxy Blood Fate.
A tradition any Argent successor would know.
A blood-inscribed rule passed down through the family for centuries.
Proxy Blood Fate wasn't just some "slave fight."
It was the method the Argent Family had proven itself with—a blood mechanism to maintain order as "lords of darkness," not mere noble arrogance.
Back in the era when slave trading began dominating the continent's underbelly.
As the number of successors exploded exponentially, the risk of them turning blades on each other loomed constantly within Argent.
After much deliberation, the Family Head created one law.
Blood never kills blood.
Instead, each person's "shadow"—their slave—sheds blood by proxy.
That was the origin of Proxy Blood Fate.
The rules are simple.
No restrictions on weapons. Gender, age, origin—none matter.
Surrender only recognized when declared by the "master."
And the master of the last slave standing wins.
The loser... forfeits some of their successor rights.
Or gets culled from the family entirely.
The winner?
Elevates their authority without spilling a drop of their own blood.
A perfect system that prevented bloody massacres within Argent while drilling into successors the family philosophy: "Slaves are power."
And now, I, Lucas Argent, had invoked its name before the Family Head.
"I've got a problem with Syl Argent, so per family rules, shouldn't we settle it with Proxy Blood Fate?"
"Don't make me laugh!"
Syl jabbed a finger at me, her face beet red, practically screaming.
And she had reason to.
Proxy Blood Fate could only be demanded by "legitimate successors recognized by the Family Head."
"That's a time-honored, honorable method only for true Argent successors! Think a bastard like you can just request Proxy Blood Fate?!"
Even as her older siblings froze under Father's gaze, her outburst meant I'd hit the nail on the head.
And as if on cue, the other beasts started barking along.
"Precisely, Family Head. Lucas Argent challenging Syl to Proxy Blood Fate... ."
"Absurd. Even listing a bastard's name alongside a legitimate successor in the duel records is a disgrace to the family!"
"Better to let him blow himself up with that grenade! The moment he does, Walter and I will risk our lives to protect you! No need to listen to that mouth!"
...Ah, they've regained their courage.
Sure enough, this family's bloodline even passes down "cowardice" perfectly.
Wolfram and Seratina's voices had already shifted to "I don't care if he dies."
Thanks to them, the mood was perfectly ripe.
Now I just had to decide how to cook it—
"Lucas Argent. Nothing more to say?"
"...Me?"
"Yes. Is that the end of your demand?"
It was Agram's voice.
I don't know why this man was addressing Lucas first for once, but it was the perfect opening.
"What more could I ask for? If you rule against Proxy Blood Fate, I'll just blow myself up right here."
I tapped the grenade playfully with my finger—tap tap—and continued.
"You'd definitely survive, Family Head... but only one would be left."
Silence hardened the room like concrete.
At that moment, I deepened my smile and landed the final blow.
"The 'family disgrace' of how the legitimate Argent successors nearly blew up the entire Family Head's quarters over one bastard."
"!!!"
"Lucas, you bastard...!"
"Daring to tarnish the family even in death?!"
"That disgrace... will never, ever be erased, no matter what."