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Chapter Text

When I woke up, I was inside the novel that I read during my days off.

To Be A Hero.

It was the novel series that was recommended to me.

The novel To Be A Hero. Was an action fantasy novel filled with politics and wars Deo Time, was the name of the main character who got transported for whatever reason in another world and some other characters that became heroes in the continent.

I got transmigrated as the heartless villain of the Count's family that ruled the territory where the first village Deo started to live in is located.

But that village was attacked by an unknown group, the village was destroyed and everyone was slaughtered, Deo Time was grief stricken and swore to take revenge on the mysterious group that massacred the village he started calling home.

The problem was that Deo Time when he arrived at the County he met the Count's eldest son who was known to not care about anyone and was seen as heartless.

Theseus Craft.

When Deo met him and told him what happened, the eldest son of the Count showed no emotion after hearing this his face indifferent.

This angered Deo but he did not do anything because if he layed his hands on the Eldest the Count won't listen to him so he stayed quiet and clenched his fists, one day he will erase that uninterested look on his face.

"...This is gonna be a problem" Tommy could only sigh at the predicament he found himself in.

Well this is gonna be my new life then.

"Haah... I just wanted to go home and take a fucking nap".

Chapter Text

The morning light, soft and golden, filled the opulent room. A bird's cheerful song drifted in, seemingly greeting the new day, though for Tommy, it was an unwelcome alarm.

He groaned, burrowing deeper under the covers of the incredibly soft, mattress. The persistent melody, however, forced him to concede defeat. He slowly sat up, yawning and rubbing his eyes, which threatened to close again.

As his vision cleared, Tommy took in his surroundings. The room was vast and grand, with white marble walls accented by gold, arched windows, and a dark oak door boasting an elegant pattern. Crimson red curtains and a matching carpet with intricate golden designs completed the lavish scene. This was clearly a room of immense wealth. A smile touched his lips, and he closed his eyes, leaning back into the luxurious mattress.

This felt good. So good, in fact, that he began to drift back to sleep.

"Too bad it's not real," Tommy sighed, the thought pulling him back. He must be truly exhausted to dream something like this. Yet, the persistent chirping lulled him again, and soon, soft snores filled the quiet room.

A rough, yet gentle, hand woke Tommy. "Young master, it is time to wake up," a tender male voice called out.

Tommy scrunched his brows, mumbling a protest as he pulled the blanket over his head. He heard a chuckle from above.

"Looks like our Young master is still sleepy."

Just leave me alone and let me fucking sleep, Tommy fumed inwardly, trying to reclaim his slumber. Seriously who the fuck is this guy to...

...

His eyes shot open. He sat up abruptly and looked to his side. A tall man stood there, wearing what looked like a servant's uniform. His striking green hair and matching green eyes with yellow irises made him appear somewhat intimidating, yet he gazed at Tommy with a look of genuine concern, like how a father would.

But that wasn't the immediate issue. Tommy's eyes widened as he looked around the room. This was definitely not his apartment.

So it wasn't a dream? Tommy felt a wave of foolishness wash over him. He shut his eyes. He couldn't dream, not anymore.

"Young master Theseus? Are you alright?" the green-haired man asked, his voice laced with worry. "Young master, you look a little pale."

Tommy turned back to the strange man, his gaze fixated on something that had just clicked. "Young master Theseus?" he repeated, wanting to be sure he hadn't heard wrong.

"Yes. That's your name young master," the man confirmed. Tommy stared, wide-eyed.

"Young master, are you perhaps unwell?" the man asked again, concern evident in his tone.

Tommy's mind raced, processing the information. Then, another name spilled out.

"...Quackity.

"Quackity? You mean my son?"

"Chef."

"Yes. Quackity is a chef, young master. Do you need him to make something for you?"

A dull ache throbbed in Tommy's head as he looked at the man by the bed. He suddenly knew who this was. "Sam?" he uttered slowly.

"That is my name, young master. Do you feel unwell? Do you want me to call the doctor?"

Theseus. Quackity, and Sam who is Quackity's father.

These were characters from To Be A Hero, the novel Tommy had been reading. He looked around the opulent bedroom, exactly as described for a noble's residence.

"Young master?"

"Water."

"Pardon?"

"Give me something to drink." Tommy's throat was dry, and water sounded perfect.

"I will get it for you right away, young master." Sam bowed and turned to leave.

"Thank you," Tommy said. Sam paused briefly, an odd expression on his face, but Tommy didn't notice, lost in his memories of the novel.

Sam left, having prepared Tommy's bath. Left alone, Tommy rose from the comfortable bed and walked to the mirror in the corner of the room.

He stared at his reflection. His hair was a golden platinum, not too different from his own blond hair, but his eyes were now a striking ruby red, completely unlike his old grayish-blue. His skin was fair and soft, and his physique held a subtle musculature. He had to admit, this new face was quite pretty, like those models he would often see from his co-workers magazines about fashion.

The novel's descriptions of each character's appearance had been precise; he knew this body he inhabited was Theseus Craft.

It still felt strange moving in a body that wasn't his. What happened to Theseus, though? I am in his body, is he in mine?

Tommy wondered, staring at his reflection. No, he shook his head.

He shouldn't be worrying about that right now. Other concerns were more pressing: he had been transmigrated as Theseus Craft, the only blood-related son of Count Philza Craft of the Golden Crow County, and the first villain Deo Time encountered in the first volume of To Be A Hero.

Tommy walked to the bathroom, where the tub was already filled with warm, rose-scented water. He slowly stepped in, and a sigh of contentment escaped him as his muscles relaxed. He closed his eyes, trying to recall the details of the book.

To Be A Hero was a popular action fantasy novel that Tommy had bought to read in his free time. He'd only managed to read up to the fourth volume before an emergency call had pulled him away. After dealing with that, he'd woken up as Theseus Craft – the guy who consistently got on Deo's nerves in volume 1 but somehow never got a proper beating.

He remembered Deo had held back because Theseus was the Count's son, and Deo needed the Count's help to give the villagers a proper burial.

Tommy was calm, unnaturally so. The initial shock had passed, and panicking would be useless. He focused on recalling the first volume. To Be A Hero explored the origins of heroes, their trials, and their growth. The main character was an Earthling transported to another world in his second year of high school, whose lifespan also became as long as a dragon's, making him age very slowly.

"Fuck... I can't tell if this is bad or not," Tommy sighed, looking up at the expensive marble ceiling again. 'This family was seriously rich.'

'Well, it isn't bad that I became Theseus. After all, Deo doesn't do anything to him, even if he gets on his nerves.' Theseus was never mentioned again after Deo left the city to begin his journey. The Golden Crow County was incredibly wealthy, even more so than other nobles.

"...Well, there wasn't much I had back home anyway," Tommy mumbled, glancing at the marble again. He was an orphan, with only a stable job that covered his rent. He had no one to care for, no friends, having focused on surviving independently after his parents died in an accident when he was young.

He was only alive because he couldn't die. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn't. Tommy would do anything to live, because being alive was always better than dead.

The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living. "Who would remember if not me..."

Tommy wasn't afraid of death; it was a part of life. No matter how healthily you lived, you would still die. But in this life, he would live peacefully and quietly, far from the plot. A smile spread across his face.

That's right. In this life, he would be as lazy as he wanted.Tommy raised his fist in the air, determination in his eyes as he envisioned his future as a lazy slacker.

***

Tommy walked out of the bathroom and saw Sam waiting outside with a cup of water in his hand and handed it to Tommy.

"Here is the water you requested Young master."

Sam says with his usual kind smile.

"Thanks" Tommy replied taking the cup from Sam's hand.

Sam had an odd expression on his face again but quickly returned to his usual smile, Tommy did not notice this reaction.

"Young master, the master hopes you would be able to join for breakfast since it's been a while." Sam says with a small smile on his face.

Tommy would have thought that his smile was genuine if he didn't read the novel.

Sam Grimstone. A supporting character in  the novel To Be A Hero.

Sam was from a strong and well known Assassin household in the underworld. He was also Quackity's father.

Their home was destroyed by the unknown organization the same group who massacred the villagers in Timeless Village Deo was staying at, Sam and Quackity are the only survivors of the household they escaped the unknown organization and went into hiding after escaping, they ended up in the Eastern continent where the County was and started working as servants while hiding their true identities.

When Quackity found out about the group that massacred the village, he wanted to go and join Deo in his journey to get revenge on the people who destroyed his home.

Sam of course went as well and the three of them started their journey and left the County.

As he was stuck in his thoughts a couple of servants entered the room holding what looked to be the clothes he was going to wear.

Tommy stared at the clothes the servants brought in and frowned. The clothes were a bit extravagant to Tommy's liking.

"Maybe something simple for today."

"Of course young master." The servant in charge with Theseus's attires quickly pulled out another attire that was simple and helped Tommy change into the simplest clothes.

Tommy looked at the mirror and frowned as he looked at his reflection, this was simple?

The simple clothes were still a bit fancy and extravagant, but...

With a face like this no wonder he was the villain. Tommy thought as he stared at the mirror he won't lie Theseus had a face that would make anything look good.

The final piece to fashion is the face.

Tommy then turned back and looked at Sam

"Let's go."

"Yes, young master." Sam smiled at Tommy and both of them left the bedroom

Tommy was looking around the place as he follows Sam to where the rest of his family was.

Wow, this place looks nice and fancy.

He passed some servants who all bowed  down at him and immediately left.

Why are they so scared? he wondered.

In the novel, Theseus wasn't an abusive tyrant. He was cold, yes, but he wasn't violent. The book described him as distant and aloof, not a monster who inspired this kind of fear. He never hit or yelled at anyone. He didn't abuse his authority to get what he wanted; he just... didn't care. His villainy was one of apathy, not cruelty.

"Young master we have arrived." Sam said as he stopped at the door where his other family members are.

The novel described Theseus's relationship with his family as estranged, since Theseus spends less time with his family because of how he was always out and going places.

He didn't have to worry about how to act. The novel had already laid it out for him. With his family, the original Theseus was quiet and distant, only speaking when spoken to or when something was truly important.

With others, he was cold and aloof, often ignoring people entirely, especially the nobles who were "all bark and no bite." Tommy could work with this.

He was already a bit reserved; playing the part of a stoic, indifferent noble seemed easy enough. He could be a professional slacker and not even have to try that hard.

"I will be opening the door now young master," Sam says with a smile on his face.

"I hope you enjoy your breakfast."

"All right, you can go now Sam make sure to eat a good meal as well." Tommy replied and entered the dining room.

The door closed behind Tommy and he could see his family sitting there waiting for him. His father the current head of the family Philza Craft and next to him was Theseus's Aunt lady Clara, and on the right was his younger siblings. The four people looked toward Tommy.

"Theseus, you have arrived." Philza said his tone surprised but not unwelcome.

"It seems you didn't have anything planned for today." A wistful smile formed on his lips as he looks at Tommy.

"Yes." Tommy nodded and only gave short reply to his father, this wasn't far from how Theseus would have answered since Philza only nodded and told him to sit down.

Tommy sat down and felt something odd he lifted his head up and looked towards his father who was staring at him.

"Is something wrong father?" 

"hm? Oh! Nothing at all." 

Count Philza was staring at Tommy, in fact the rest of the family was staring at him. Tommy looked at each of them and they all quickly turned away and continued eating.

Tommy watched this reaction. I guess it's rare for Theseus to join them since he's always going places.

A servant placed a plate of pancakes, waffles, sausage, and bacon in front of him. Another brought a glass of what looked like orange juice. Tommy's eyes widened.

He hadn't had a proper meal like this since his parents died. He unconsciously started to smile as he picked up his fork and cut a tiny piece of pancake. He brought it to his mouth, and his eyes practically lit up. Gods, this is so fluffy and delicious.

Tommy, who was eating with a smile still present on his face, heard a soft clang. He looked at his younger brother, Chayanne, who had dropped the fork in his hand. Chayanne muttered an apology, and a servant quickly came over to give him a new fork and pick up the one on the ground.

Watching that made Tommy think it was nice to be a noble. He looked back at his meal and continued eating, a smile on his face ever present as he ate. The food was tasty and made his stomach happy.

Chayanne, who was looking at his older brother, had his mouth agape. He's smiling!? He watched Theseus enjoy his food, the smile still present on his face.

Chapter Text

A wide smile still fixed on his face, Tommy continued to eat, his eyes scanning the incredible feast laid out before him. Plates of food were piled high, and he noticed a bowl of fruits he'd never seen before. He picked one up, its skin a deep purple like a ripe plum, and took a bite. An intense sweetness and juiciness exploded in his mouth. He closed his eyes, savoring the flavor.

This must be what fruit from another world tastes like, he thought, utterly captivated by the strange, delicious taste.

Preoccupied with the amazing food and mentally praising the farmers and chefs, Tommy didn't notice the smile on his face. He also didn't notice his family staring at him as if he were an alien.

His father, Philza, watched with wide eyes, his fork halfway to his mouth. Tommy was eating with such uninhibited joy, a genuine smile ever-present on his face. Philza's entire body froze. An actual smile was on Theseus's face. His son was smiling.

He couldn't look away, afraid it was just a dream. He closed his eyes and opened them again, and the smile on Theseus's face was still there, vibrant and real.

Tommy finally felt someone’s gaze and looked up to see Philza staring at him, a troubled expression on his face. It made Tommy's own smile falter.

Why is he making that face? Tommy wondered.

He didn't like the look; it was the face of a man who had lost something precious. It worried Tommy, and he forgot himself.

"Is something wrong, Father?" he asked, a look of genuine concern replacing his indifferent facade.

Philza blinked and quickly composed himself, clearing his throat. "Ahem, it is nothing, my son." He looked down at his food and continued eating, but his eyes were distant, as if lost in a memory from long ago.

Why is he like that? a confused Tommy thought, and continued eating quietly.

The dining room fell silent, the only sound the gentle tapping of cutlery on porcelain plates. The air grew thick and awkward.

Tallulah, Tommy's younger sister, couldn't bear the tension. She began to make small talk, her voice a quiet ripple in the silence.

The sound of conversations eventually faded into the background as Tommy continued to eat, content to enjoy the food silently.

Breakfast ended, and everyone stood up. Philza’s olive-green eyes scanned the room, finally landing on Tommy, who was at the opposite end of the long table.

"Theseus," Philza called, a gentle smile on his face. "Is there anything you want?"

Tommy stared at his father, a question forming in his mind. What I want? He tilted his head to the side as he thought, and a light bulb seemed to go off. He looked back at his father, who waited patiently.

"Money," Tommy answered simply, meeting his gaze. "I need some money."

"Alright," Philza nodded. "I'll send it to the deputy butler."

"Yes," Tommy added with zero shame. "Give me a lot."

"Yes, yes, I'll give you a lot," Philza said with a small smile.

Tommy could feel his younger siblings' eyes on him, but he ignored them and smiled brightly at his father. He was too preoccupied with the thought of his new funds to notice their stunned reactions to his genuine smile.

After breakfast, Tommy returned to his room to find Sam waiting outside.

"Young master, how was breakfast?" Sam asked, a kind smile on his face.

Tommy just stared at him blankly for a moment before answering, "It was fine." He stopped at the door, but didn't go in.

"Young master?" Sam asked, confused by his stillness.

Tommy quickly turned around. "What day is it?" he asked, looking up at Sam, who was a head taller than him.

Seriously, why is he so tall and huge? Tommy complained internally.

Sam's dark green eyes held a glint of curiosity. "It is the 24th day of the sun of the second month, young master."

Tommy's eyes widened, but he quickly returned to an indifferent look, his hand on his chin as he thought.

Fuck. The 24th? Then that means the village was destroyed yesterday on the 23rd. Tommy's face became troubled, a heavy weight settling over him.

After a few moments of contemplation, Tommy turned back to the man. "Sam, get me some paper and ink to write with."

"As you wish, Young Master." Sam bowed and left to retrieve the items. Tommy watched him disappear around a corner before turning and heading back into his bedroom.

***

"Here is what you requested, Young Master." Sam placed the paper and ink on a desk.

"Thanks," Tommy said, walking over to the desk. He turned to face the man. "You can leave now."

Sam bowed silently and left the room.

Scary, Tommy thought to himself, before turning back and sitting down at the desk.

Tommy stared at the paper and begun to write everything he knew.

The novel he had been transmigrated into, To Be A Hero, was a sprawling action-fantasy series. Its protagonist, Deo Time, was a second-year high school student who, on his way home, was teleported to the Forest of Death, a land teeming with monsters. He survived there for decades before stumbling upon a human settlement: the Village of Timeless.

The villagers welcomed him, and he began to call it his second home, repaying their kindness by helping them hunt and gather food.

One day, a man who had taken Deo in fell ill. Deo went into the forest to find medicinal herbs, which was why he wasn't there when an unknown organization attacked and massacred everyone.

When he returned, he found the village burned to the ground and the lifeless bodies of the people who had shown him warmth and taught him how to read. At the center of it all stood the group sent by the mysterious organization.

Overcome with anger, Deo didn't hesitate, killing every last one of the enemies. But after the battle, he was left with no one to interrogate, just a heavy feeling of helplessness and guilt.

After burying the villagers, Deo traveled to the nearest town to seek the help of the local lord.

He arrived at the County and met Count Philza Craft, telling him what happened and requesting a proper burial for the villagers. Philza, of course, granted the request, ordering the burial and launching his own investigation. The count then asked Deo to stay at the estate to help with the investigation, and Deo complied.

That's when he met Theseus Craft, the eldest son of the Count and the story’s first villain. Deo had expected sympathy, but after hearing what happened, Theseus only said, “I see… is that all?” His voice was utterly emotionless, like a doll with no heart.

Deo's brown eyes widened, his fists clenching tight.

“Is that all?” Deo repeated, his voice low and tight with a barely contained fury. "You won’t question what happened? You’re not wondering why they died and who killed them!?” he shouted, his face contorted in anger.

Theseus didn't flinch. He just stared back before letting out a scoff.

“And what use would questioning what happened be?” Theseus said patronizingly.

“YOU—” Deo cut himself off, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists so hard he felt a bone might snap.

The blond noble looked at his knuckles before turning his gaze back to Deo.

“Hmph. With an attitude like that, you won’t get anywhere if you don’t learn to control yourself,” Theseus said mockingly, turning away. Deo held himself back from tackling the noble and beating him senseless, knowing that if he did, Count Philza would kick him out.

Deo glared at the noble's retreating back.

After that, every time Deo met Theseus, the noble would patronize and mock him, and Deo would just clench his fists until they turned white.

Four days later, Deo left the County, along with Quackity and Sam, and the three began their journey to become heroes and get their revenge on the secret organization.

Tommy finished writing and stared at the papers on the desk. A dull ache throbbed in his head. Well, shit. He brought a hand up to massage his temples, a headache brewing from the sheer weight of it all.

The village got destroyed yesterday, that means Deo is currently on his way to the County right now.

He looked back at the papers scattered across the desk, a blueprint for a future he was desperate to avoid. His brilliant, lazy plan was simple: he would head to town and hide out at an inn for four days until Deo left the county.

This way, he'd dodge a confrontation, keep his nose out of the plot, and, most importantly, avoid landing on the wrong side of the story's hero.

He remembered the immense amount of money his father had promised him. He could use that to fund his little "vacation." Tommy nodded to himself, feeling a surge of satisfaction.

This was it—the start of his peaceful, slacker life. As he was lost in his daydream of lazing around, a knock sounded at the door.

“Come in,” he said, the words slipping out in the detached, emotionless tone of the original Theseus.

The door creaked open, and a cheerful voice announced, “Good morning, Young Master!”

A young man with ginger hair and kind brown eyes, freckles dusting his face, stepped inside. He bowed, a wide smile still plastered on his face.

Tommy instantly recognized him as Fundy, the deputy butler who served the Crafts.

He looks like a fox, Tommy thought, his gaze lingering on the man.

“Young Master, here is the money you asked for,” Fundy said, handing a cheque to Tommy.

Tommy took the cheque, a small hum escaping his lips. Then he looked down at the number, and his breath hitched. He choked on his own saliva, his eyes widening to the size of saucers. This much!? He stared at the amount, feeling a wave of faintness wash over him.

10 million Gallon. This was the fortune the Count gave Theseus as his allowance in the novel. It was enough to buy an entire mountain. Tommy was utterly gobsmacked. He didn’t have to worry about money at all—his father would simply give him what he wanted if he asked.

Philza, despite his estranged relationship with Theseus, had always spoiled him.

A slow smile spread across Tommy's face. It wasn’t the genuine, bright smile from breakfast. It was the smile of a man with a plan, a man plotting something big.

Fundy, still in the room, saw it and shivered, wondering what terrifying scheme his young master was cooking up.

Tommy stood up, gathering the papers from his desk. He walked directly to the fireplace and, without a second thought, tossed them into the dancing flames. The information he'd written down, the plot of the novel, was now a pile of ash.

He turned to Fundy, a glint of mischief in his ruby-red eyes.

"Fundy, I'm going into town. Help me get dressed."

Fundy's smile was strained, but he nodded and began to assist Tommy with his outdoor attire. Once finished, he bowed respectfully. "It is done, Young Master." He then opened the door for him.

"Alright." As Tommy stepped into the hallway, he paused and looked back at Fundy. "Tell my father I'll be out for four days."

"Yes, Young Master," Fundy responded, his voice still tense.

Tommy walked down the hall, his thoughts on the money in his pocket and his glorious four-day break. He then bumped into Sam, who was on his way to Tommy's room, a teacup in his hand.

Sam smiled warmly. "Young Master, I was just about to bring you some tea. Are you going somewhere?"

Tommy's eyes immediately locked onto the cup. He hated sour things, and his past life's love for sweet tea made him mentally curse the gods for his current predicament.

"It is lemon tea, Young Master," Sam said, a subtle shift in his smile. He held out the cup. Tommy's face twisted in disgust, a reaction Sam clearly saw. "I personally brewed this for you."

Reluctantly, Tommy took the cup. "Thanks," he mumbled, a silent glare directed at the tea. He brought the cup to his lips and, without a single complaint, drank the entire horrid concoction. After finishing, he handed the cup back to Sam.

Sam took it silently, his smile returning to its previous warmth. "If I may ask, Young Master, where are you going?"

"To an inn. I'll be staying there for a few days," Tommy replied, starting to walk down the hall again.

"…I see. I will wait for you, Young Master."

A shiver ran down Tommy's spine. "Don't wait for me," he said, and quickened his pace.

Sam watched the young blond walk away until he was out of sight. He then looked down at the teacup, an amused smile making its way onto his face as he remembered the disgust in the young master's eyes.

He looked back down the hall where Tommy had disappeared, a glint of curiosity in his dark green eyes.

"It seems this cat-like Young Master of mine knows something."

Tommy continued his walk, reaching the grand staircase that led to the first floor. He stood before the large, dark wooden double doors, which were adorned with elegant patterns. The 16-year-old took a deep breath, reached for the doorknob, and stepped outside.

The harsh but warm rays of the sun made him squint. He could see the large gates in the distance, where two knights stood on guard duty. As Tommy approached, the guards noticed him, straightened up, and gave a synchronized greeting.

"Good morning, Young Master!" they said in unison.

Tommy simply nodded. "Go and call for a carriage," he said, effortlessly slipping into the aloof persona of Theseus.

One of the guards bowed and left to fetch the carriage. As he waited, Tommy’s mind drifted to his plan and the obscene amount of money in his pocket. The guard returned a few minutes later and helped him into the carriage.

"Here is the carriage, Young Master!" the guard announced.

Tommy hummed in acknowledgment, settling into the soft, comfortable velvet cushions. He could hear the two guards wishing him a safe trip as the carriage pulled away from the estate.

"Where would you like to go, Young Master?" the driver asked.

"The Crystal Shard Inn," Tommy replied.

With a gentle lurch, the carriage began its journey, taking Tommy one step closer to his four-day vacation.

***

"We have arrived, Young Master."

The carriage door opened, and a servant helped Tommy down. This is the place, the blond thought, looking at the building before him. He turned to the servant and dismissed him, explaining he would be staying there for a few days. The servant bowed and left with the carriage, leaving Tommy to stand alone in front of the inn.

He went inside. The low murmur of conversation ceased immediately, and an awkward silence fell over the room. Tommy ignored the patrons, who looked at him with nervous apprehension. He scanned the inn, taking in its cozy, comfortable atmosphere. The carpets and tablecloths were a soft baby blue, and the banners hanging from the walls were adorned with a familiar diamond pattern.

Tommy's gaze finally landed on the man he was looking for at the front desk. He approached, and the man stood up and cleared his throat.

"Young Master Theseus! Welcome to the Crystal Shard Inn. What can I do for ya?" the man said with a formal yet cheerful voice.

The man had raven-black hair and diamond-blue eyes. Tommy instantly recognized him as Skeppy, a character from To Be A Hero. In the novel, Skeppy was the adopted son of the current leader of the Blue Diamond Merchant Guild. He was a cunning, ambitious man who knew how to handle business. When he met the talented Deo in the capital, he followed him, providing information from his extensive network. Skeppy's ambition was to create his own, more successful merchant guild, as he couldn't inherit the one he was in.

Tommy stared at him, then smiled, catching Skeppy completely off guard.

"I would like to rent a floor upstairs. Can you do that?"

"Of course, Young Master! I'll have it ready right away."

"Great. Here's the payment." Tommy tossed a bag onto the desk with a heavy clink.

Skeppy opened the bag and his eyes widened. He choked on his saliva at the sight of the pure gold coins inside.

"Um, Young Master, I believe this is too much," Skeppy said, looking at Tommy with surprise.

"Just take it. I have plenty of money, so don't worry about it," Tommy replied with a shrug.

Skeppy stared at him, then at the bag of gold coins. "Well, if you say so. Follow me, Young Master. I'll take you to your room," he said, turning to give Tommy a big smile.

Skeppy led Tommy to a room and opened the door. "Here it is, Young Master. Please make yourself comfortable."

"Thank you," Tommy said, entering the room and settling into a chair by the window. He gazed out at the world outside, feeling a sense of peace.

"Is there anything else you need?" Skeppy asked.

"Can you bring some tea and some novels to read?"

"Will do." Skeppy closed the door, leaving Tommy alone with his thoughts and his view of the street below.

Tommy took a contented sip of the sweet tea Skeppy had brought, his eyes glued to the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. He sighed, leaning back in his chair and watching the world go by outside his window. This was the life.

But he couldn’t stay here forever.

Even if he managed to avoid the protagonist, a great war was on the horizon, and he needed a way to protect himself. Fortunately, the novel he'd read held the solution.

The world of To Be A Hero was home to Ancient Powers, forces that persisted long after their original users had passed. They were incredibly rare, requiring extreme luck to find, but Tommy, with his knowledge of the novel's plot, knew exactly where to look. One of these powers was located right here in the territory.

Its name was The Shield of Unbreakable Armor.

This was a purely defensive power, though it could be used offensively in a pinch. Its user could summon a temporary shield of pure energy or hardened stone around themselves or an ally. This shield was incredibly durable, able to withstand blows from swords, arrows, and even explosions. It would be perfect for blocking attacks in the coming war.

Tommy hummed thoughtfully, pleased with his plan for a secure retirement. It was a blessing that he wasn't the heir; Theseus had stepped down at 13, and the new heir was his younger sister, Tallulah. This left Tommy free to pursue his own agenda without the burden of leadership.

He stood up, his mind made up, and walked out of the room. He headed down the stairs to the front desk, where Skeppy was waiting.

"I'll be back," Tommy said. "Take care of the room for me while I'm gone."

Skeppy nodded, and Tommy walked outside, squinting against the bright sun. He placed a hand on his hip and let out a soft sigh.

Alright, time to buy some books.

Chapter Text

Tommy strode down the street, his head turning to take in the sights. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he absorbed the world, his eyes wide with quiet awe. So this is what a fantasy novel looks like, he thought, a sense of wonder filling him.

He watched people move along the cobblestone paths, their clothes a stark contrast to his own. Merchants hawked strange goods from wooden stalls, their shouts blending with the low chatter of the crowd.The buildings, with their unique architecture and vibrant banners, were unlike anything he had ever seen. Everything was different, and new.

As he walked, Tommy noticed people giving him a wide berth, their gazes quickly darting away when he looked in their direction.

He ignored the fearful glances, continuing his search for a bookstore or an antique shop. But a thought struck him. Where would a book like that even be? He paused, his mind racing.

He was looking for The Crimson Blade, a book written by a ruthless, battle-hungry warrior. It detailed the man's many wars and battles. According to the novel he'd read, this book was the key to an ancient power—the Shield of Unbreakable Armor.

To claim it, he simply had to find the book and place it on the hill where the warrior was buried. He needed to find it, and to do that, he needed to know where to look.

"Maybe I should just ask someone," he muttered to himself.

He scanned the street and spotted a man selling bread. As he walked toward the stall, the baker's eyes widened in fear. The man visibly trembled, wiping sweat from his brow as Tommy stopped in front of him.

"Y-young Master, what can I do for you?" the man stammered, bowing so low his forehead was close enough to kiss the cobblestones. The sight irritated Tommy.

"Stand up straight," he said with a short, sharp wave of his hand.

The man shot to his feet, shoulders rigid with tension. He was as frozen as a gazelle before a predator, as if a single wrong move would get him devoured.

"Do you know any bookstores that sell old books, or an antique shop?" Tommy's voice was even, his face stoic.

The baker's fear turned to confusion. "Huh? Oh! W-well, there is a bookstore, Y-young Master," he stammered, pointing a shaky finger down the street. "It's called The Forgotten Chronicles. It's near the entrance gates."

"I see." Tommy's eyes drifted from the baker to the rows of steaming, freshly baked bread on his cart. The aroma was enticing.

"Would you like to buy some, Young Master?" the man asked, his voice filled with hope.

"I'll take a few. They look good."

Relief washed over the man's face. His shoulders finally sagged as he quickly wrapped the loaves and offered them to Tommy. A heavy gold coin landed on the worn wooden table with a loud clink, making the man gasp.

"Y-Young Master, this is... too much," he whispered, looking from the coin to Tommy with wide eyes.

"Keep it," Tommy said simply. "A tip for the information. I have plenty." He turned on his heel and walked away without another word.

"Thank you, Young Master!" the man cried, bowing once more as Tommy disappeared into the crowd.

Tommy looked up at the sign above the store: The Forgotten Chronicles. He pushed the door open, a soft chime of bells announcing his arrival. An old man sat with his feet up on the front desk, but when he looked up and met Tommy’s ruby-red eyes, he shot to his feet.

"W-welcome, Young Master Theseus!" the man stammered, bowing low.

Tommy ignored the greeting and began to search, his gaze sweeping over the dusty rows of books. An hour later, he still hadn’t found it. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

“...It's not here,” he muttered to himself.

"Um, Young Master, may I ask what book you're looking for?" the old man asked, approaching cautiously.

"The Legacy of the Blade."

"The Legacy of the Blade… hm." The man put a hand to his chin in thought. "My apologies, Young Master, but I don't believe we have that book."

"I see," Tommy said quietly. "Then I'll be on my way."

"Yes, Young Master. My apologies," the man said, bowing again as Tommy left.

The soft chime of the bell sounded again as Tommy exited the shop. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and wondering where to go next.

The sun's warm light hit him, giving his platinum-blond hair a golden hue. He ignored the stares of passersby, deep in thought. The novel said the book was in this territory, but it never specified where.

Just then, a flash of orange caught his eye. He turned his head and froze.

It was Time Deo, the protagonist.

Deo was tall, with a mess of brown curls and lean muscles. He wore a tattered orange cape over a black turtleneck and pants, a sword holster at his waist. His iconic black sunglasses, one lens cracked, hid his honey-brown eyes. He was talking to the guards at the entrance gate. Tommy couldn't hear what they were saying, but he knew what was happening: Deo, having rushed here without rest, was being denied entry for lacking identification papers. The protagonist would wait until nightfall to jump the walls.

Deo shook his head and walked away, following the guards' dismissive gesture. When he looked back, Tommy quickly turned his head and pretended he hadn't seen a thing.

Fuck. Tommy thought. He didn't see me, right?

He looked back at the gates, and Deo was gone. A sigh of relief escaped him. Let's go back.

Tommy collapsed onto the bed, a frustrated sigh leaving him. He closed his eyes, the warm breeze from the open window a gentle embrace, and quickly drifted to sleep.

A soft knock woke him. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and stumbled toward the door. Half-asleep, he swayed on his feet. When he opened the door, he was met with a familiar black servant’s uniform.

"Young Master, I apologize for disturbing your rest, but the Count requests your presence back home," the man said. "He has something to discuss with you."

Tommy blinked slowly, his sleepy gaze traveling up to meet the man's familiar green eyes and kind smile. He scrunched his eyebrows together, rubbed his eyes, and looked again.

"Huh?" he asked, completely lost.

He tilted his head, an action so like a curious bird that Sam couldn’t help but smile. The older man waited patiently as understanding dawned on Tommy’s face. His eyes went wide, and he froze.

Sam chuckled. "The Count wants you back home, Young Master. There's something he needs to discuss with you."

"Father? Why?" Tommy asked.

"I do not know, Young Master," Sam answered.

Tommy's voice was flat, devoid of all emotion. "I see. Then it's probably important that Father requested you to take me back home." He slipped completely into his persona, the one he called Theseus, as if the moment before had never happened.

Without another word, he turned and headed toward the stairs, with Sam following behind him.

He paused at the counter. "I'll take my leave now. My father has requested my return."

Skeppy nodded, a look of understanding on his face. "Of course, Young Master."

Tommy gave a brief, clipped nod in response and walked out the door. The older man, who had seen him out, smiled at Skeppy. "Thank you for taking care of our Young Master," he said, and Skeppy simply nodded.

Outside the inn, Tommy waited as Sam opened the carriage door for him.

Just as he was about to step inside, a flash of gray and blond fur caught his eye. He glanced back to see two tiny raccoons scurry past the carriage.

He watched them, a flicker of something in his mind, until they disappeared.

"Young Master?" Sam's voice was gentle as he held the door open.

Tommy shook his head, a single word escaping his lips. "Nothing." He stepped into the carriage, the plush seat sinking beneath him. The door closed, and the carriage began to move, carrying him back to the estate.

...

***

Tommy walked behind Sam as he was led to the Count's study. The walk was quiet. Tommy looked out the windows, silently admiring the estate. They reached the door, and Sam knocked.

"Master, Young Master Theseus is here," he called out.

They waited a few moments before a voice called back. "Let him in."

Sam opened the door, and Tommy entered. He spotted his father sitting on a couch. Philza smiled up at him and gestured to the couch across from him. The teenager obeyed, sitting down as an awkward silence filled the room.

A minute or two passed until Philza spoke, breaking the tension.

"Theseus, do you know why I called you here?" Philza asked.

"No, Father."

"Ahem, well, in two weeks the crown prince is hosting a party in the capital for nobles for the founding anniversary of the Essempi Kingdom."

Oh, that's right. The celebration. Tommy remembered the novel's plot: during the festivities, the capital is attacked by terrorists. Deo, who was there at the time, fights them and is declared a hero after the battle.

"Theseus," Philza continued, "I wanted to ask you to go to the capital as our representative."

He paused, a small smile on his face. "I know you don't like social events, but it's been so long since you've shown yourself to the public. There are a lot of rumors going around." He let out a sigh, and looks back at his son.

"What do you think? Will you go?"

Tommy blinks, a hand moving to his chin as he considers the question. Should I go? he thinks. I mean, the novel said Theseus went to the capital, so...

He looks back up at his father, his expression neutral. "I'll give it some thought."

Philza simply nods, a small smile on his face. "Alright. You're dismissed."

"Yes. I'll take my leave now," Tommy says, rising to his feet. He walks to the door and closes it behind him, seeing Sam standing just outside. He ignores the older man and walks down the hallway. Just as he's about to turn a corner, a mop of brown curls bumps into him.

"Ah!" a young voice yelps as the figure stumbles backward.

Tommy instinctively reaches out, steadying her before she can fall.

"... Older brother," the young girl whispers, her voice small. "Apologies. I wasn't looking."

"Mm," Tommy replies.

An uncomfortable silence stretches between them. Jesus, the silence is suffocating, he thinks, glancing down at his younger sister. She's staring at the floor as if it's the most fascinating thing in the world.

Tommy recalls information from the novel as he looks at the little girl with brown curls.

Tallulah Craft. She and her brother, Chayanne, were adopted by Count Philza Craft when they were six, making Theseus eleven at the time. Both were commoners, and they struggled to adjust to noble society, which wasn't exactly welcoming to outsiders.

Theseus' relationship with his younger siblings wasn't horrible, but it wasn't great either. The original Theseus rarely interacted with his family.

Tommy's thoughts are broken when Tallulah speaks again. He looks at her, her pleading brown eyes meeting his ruby-red ones.

"... Older brother, I—I wanted to ask if I could borrow your book," she says, her voice trembling slightly.

"Book?"

"The book you wrote!" she blurts out, her cheeks turning red with embarrassment.

Tommy blinks, confused. Huh? The book I wrote? He has no idea what she's talking about. Did the real Theseus write a book?

Tallulah's wide, hopeful eyes make him falter, and he gives in. "... Alright," he says, defeated. He turns to Sam, who's still following him, a hint of amusement in his smile. "Sam, go and fetch it."

The butler bows. "Of course, Young Master." He disappears down the hall.

"If that's all, I'll go back to my room now," Tommy says.

"Oh! Yes, older brother! Thank you!" Tallulah beams, her face lighting up.

Tommy just nods and walks away.

"Haa, now what?" Tommy groans, collapsing onto the soft couch in his room.

He has two weeks until the party at the capital—the one where the attack is supposed to happen. He could refuse to go and let his younger siblings attend, but...

"... Fuck," he curses. "Ugh! Fine! I'll fucking go!" he shouts, jumping to his feet.

All I have to do is prevent the attack, he thinks. And I'll do it in a way that no one will ever suspect I knew it was coming.

A determined smile spreads across his face as he walks out of his bedroom, a fiery look in his ruby eyes. "How hard could it be?"

Chapter Text

Tommy’s boots hit the marble floor with a determined thud, each step a statement of his resolve. Servants quickly moved to the side, seeing the focused expression on the blond youth's face. He looked like a man on a mission.

He ignored their quick, deferential movements, his gaze fixed on the ornate double doors at the end of the hall.

The polished gold knobs gleamed, and he reached for one, his hand steady and purposeful, when a gentle voice stopped him.

“Theseus?”

He spun around to see a woman standing at the top of the grand staircase.

Her voice was as calm and composed as her face, which was framed by a cascade of gold-flecked hair. Her eyes, the color of a forest canopy, were watchful and full of quiet authority.

Her deep blue dress, the color of the midnight sky, was a simple cut, but intricate silver embroidery twisted along the hem and cuffs, like vines in a secret garden. A white shawl with a delicate fringe lay over her shoulders, catching the light as she began to descend.

The click-clack of her simple white heels on the smooth tile floor announced her graceful approach.

Tommy knew exactly who she was. Clara Craft, Count Philza's sister and his aunt. She had come to the county to help her brother manage the family business after the late Countess died.

Unlike the evil aunts in storybooks, she was a genuinely caring woman who took pride in her family and loved her brother’s children.

She stopped at a polite distance, her presence both elegant and commanding.

“Aunt,” Tommy said, bowing his head slightly in greeting.

“Theseus, where are you going?” she asked, her gaze sweeping over him. "Dinner will be ready soon. Are you not joining us?"

"No, Aunt. I'm planning on eating outside," he replied, his voice firm. "I won't be attending dinner."

A slight frown, barely visible, crossed Clara's face. "I see. I'll let your father know you won’t be joining us."

"Yes, thank you. I apologize that I can’t attend tonight," he said.

Clara simply waved her hand in dismissal. "It's fine. Just come home safely. Though your father will be sad not to see you at the table."

She turned and began to walk away, leaving Tommy alone once more.

He stood there for a few seconds before turning back to the front doors of the estate, his hand closing around the cool metal of the handle as he pushed them open and stepped out into the night.

***

The sounds of laughter and music spilled out from the bar, but Tommy just stood outside and sighed.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, and as soon as he did, the lively atmosphere died down. The chatter faded, the music quieted, and the clinking of mugs came to a halt. Tommy ignored the sudden silence and walked further into the room.

He passed by tables, noticing how people flinched and tried to make themselves smaller as he walked by, as if hoping to avoid his attention.

He saw the bartender wiping a glass behind the bar, and he slid onto an empty stool, taking a seat.

"Give me your recommended dish," he said to the bartender. "And a glass of your best wine."

After all, Theseus was known to be quite a drinker, despite his young age.

The bartender simply nodded and left to get his order. As he did, Tommy noticed a man sitting on the stool next to him. He turned to look at him, and the man flinched, shrinking back when their eyes met. Tommy raised an eyebrow.

What the hell is wrong with him? Is he scared of me? But why?

The man was muscular and huge, with a scar over his left eye that made him look intimidating. So why was he acting as if a much more frightening creature was standing in front of him? Tommy was puzzled as he watched the man sweat profusely.

As the man debated whether to apologize for his mere existence, the bartender returned. The man’s tension was a physical thing, and Tommy almost expected him to drop to the floor.

"Here is your order, Young Master," the bartender said, placing the food and wine in front of Tommy.

"Ah, thanks," Tommy said, his attention now on the juicy steak.

He picked up the utensils and began to eat. The bar was almost completely silent, with only faint murmurs and whispers.

Tommy ignored it all, savoring the food.He took a sip of the wine. It was quite strong. He took a few more sips, and a flush began to creep up his face, making him look drunk. However, Theseus had a high tolerance for alcohol, not that anyone knew that.

Once he finished eating, he ordered a dish to go. The bartender went and fetched it, returning to hand the food over to Tommy.

"Alright, here's for your service." Tommy placed three gold coins on the counter and left.

The bartender simply stared at the coins, his mouth agape. As soon as Tommy stepped out of the bar, the sounds of laughter and music returned, but he paid no attention. He walked down the street toward the city wall.

The tall walls started at the gate and seemed to defend against any potential intruders.

He recalled the information from the novel:

Just 90 steps from the city gate. That was the location where Deo was supposed to jump from the city wall.

He walked quickly to the spot, then slowed down. The streets were mostly empty; it was a residential area, and most people were likely home with their families.

At exactly 90 steps from the city gate, Tommy turned a corner and continued walking toward his destination.

There wasn't much light, just the occasional glow from a window or the faint light from the torches on the city wall. But it was enough.

Hmm?

When he reached the spot, his gaze fell upon two tiny raccoons huddled together. He walked slowly toward them.

The raccoons, sensing his approach, looked up at him. The blond one, which looked a little older, hissed. Tommy ignored it, crouching down in front of them.

They were baby raccoons. The hissing one had buttery blond fur and peculiar purple eyes, as did the other, though its fur was an ashy gray. He looked closer, and that’s when he realized neither of them was limping.

In the novel, after Deo jumped over the wall, he almost landed on one of the raccoons. He twisted his body to avoid the creature, but in doing so, he sprained his ankle.

Tommy glanced to the side, where Deo was supposed to be, but he wasn’t there.

Huh, so it won’t happen? Tommy wondered, standing up and looking around. "Did I come here too early?" he asked aloud.

As soon as he said the words, he heard a faint rustle from the top of the city wall. He looked up and saw him. He froze as Deo jumped over the wall.

Looks like I really was early.

Instead of almost landing on the raccoon, it seemed he was going to land on Tommy. Deo seemed to realize there was someone standing below and quickly twisted his body to avoid him.

"Ah—!" Tommy yelped, closing his eyes and bracing for impact. He felt a hands grab his shoulder's and spin him around. Then came a thud, and he knew someone had landed.

"...Ugh?" Tommy slowly opened his eyes, realizing he was on top of something—or rather, someone. He pushed himself up, his hands pressing on the person’s chest. He sat up and looked down at the person he was on top of.

The young man was lying on the ground, his hand still on Tommy's waist. His brown hair was a messy mop spread on the dirty pathway. His sunglasses were askew, and one of the lenses was cracked.

Tommy's mind went blank.

...What the hell?

He could hear the raccoons behind him, but all he could focus on was the young man he was currently sitting on.

...Should I just make a run for it? he thought, but immediately shook his head. He looked back down at the brunette and sighed.

"Now what?" he couldn't help but ask.

Tommy looked back at the unconscious brunette and reached a hand down, letting it hover over the other guy's mouth. He felt a warm puff of breath and let out a quiet sigh of relief.

He isn't dead, Tommy thought, the tension in his shoulders finally easing.

He realized he was still straddling the guy and quickly got off, now standing over Deo's still form.

Hmm, what to do? As he was thinking, he heard a painful groan. Deo was stirring, beginning to wake up.

"Hey," Tommy called out.

Deo's head snapped toward him, a hand already on his hilt, ready to attack.

"Calm down. I'm not a threat," Tommy said, holding up his hands.

Deo's shoulders relaxed slightly, but his gaze remained sharp and wary. He slowly started to sit up. Tommy remembered the sandwich he had with him and took the paper bag out. As he was about to offer it to Deo, he noticed the raccoons still there, their eyes fixed on the sandwich. Tommy sighed, knowing what he had to do.

He split the sandwich in half, offering one half to Deo and the other to the two raccoons. He was about to just toss their share on the ground but stopped, realizing the dirt was too grimy. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a white handkerchief, spread it on the ground, and carefully placed the sandwich on it.

The raccoons slowly approached and looked up at Tommy.

"Well? Go on, eat," he said.

They began to munch, purring softly as they did. Tommy scoffed, a small smile touching his lips as he watched the two baby raccoons eat. He then felt a stare and realized Deo was watching him intently.

"Ahem, so, do you have a place to stay?" Tommy asked.

He knew Deo didn't, but he wasn't supposed to know that. Deo was silent for a moment before answering with a quiet, "...No."

"Oh. Well then, follow me. You can stay at my place," Tommy announced, standing up. He reached a hand out to Deo to help him. "Well?"

After a moment of hesitation, Deo took the offered hand and slowly stood up, wincing as a sharp ache shot through his left foot. He figured it was a sprain but followed the young blond anyway. He noticed how the few people they passed on the street seemed to actively avoid the young blond who was leading the way.

Tommy walked down the street before glancing back at Deo, who was slightly limping. He looked back ahead of him and slowed his pace. They soon reached the large front gates of an estate. Tommy looked back at Deo, who was standing behind him, staring in surprise. The grand size of the place, along with Tommy's fine clothes and the way people had avoided him, made it clear that Tommy was a noble.

"You coming?" Tommy asked.

Deo seemed to snap out of his thoughts, giving a tense nod. A shudder ran through Tommy as he saw the look in Deo's eyes and thought, He's probably already figuring out how hard it would be to kill me or take me hostage.

They both walked toward the gate, and the guards perked up at the sight of them.

"Y-young master Theseus," one guard stuttered. "May I ask who that young man is?"

"I don't think it's any of your business who I bring home," Tommy said, giving the guard a cold look as he crossed his arms.

"N-no, of course not, Young Master!" the guard flinched.

"Then let him in," Tommy said, pausing before sighing. "He's my guest."

The guard hesitated, looking at the other guard, who just shrugged.

Hey help me over here!? The guard communicated with his eyes.

I don't know? Just let the guy in if you don't want to see the Young Master's fury. The other stared back.

Tommy watched the silent exchange, letting out an annoyed sigh that made the guard flinch again. "Are you not going to let me in?" he demanded, his glare cold and icy.

The guard trembled, bowing his head in defeat as he opened the gate for them.

The other guard followed the two inside. Tommy ignored him, figuring the man was just doing his job. As he entered the estate, he spotted a familiar green-haired man standing near the door, waiting.

"Young Master, welcome back," Sam greeted with his signature smile. The smile became strained as his gaze flickered to Deo, his expression darkening. "May I ask who this is?"

Tommy felt a shiver run down his spine at the dark look on Sam's face. Scary, he thought.

"A guest of mine," Tommy said dismissively as he walked further down the hallway. Sam was now following behind them along with the knight.

Tommy stopped in front of a door and slammed it open. They were in the kitchen, where a short, raven-haired man with a scar running down his chin was sharpening a knife. The man turned toward them as the door slammed open. This was Quackity Grimstone, Sam's son.

Tommy felt a shiver as he made eye contact with Quackity, who frowned upon seeing him.

"Young Master, what are you doing here?" Quackity asked.

"Food," Tommy said with a look of indifference. He pointed at Deo. "Make him some food."

"Excuse me?" Quackity repeated.

"You're a good chef. I want you to make him some food. He's my guest."

Quackity looked over at Deo, his gaze narrowing. "...Very well, Young Master," he nodded.

"Great!" Tommy clapped his hands and spun around to face Deo. "You stay here and eat. If you have any questions, ask Sam—the green-haired man behind you." He pointed at Sam. "Sam, after he's finished his meal, take him to a guest room, take care of him since he's my guest."

Sam smiled warmly. "Of course, Young Master."

"Alright, I'll be going to my room now," Tommy said. He pointed at the knight. "You! Go back. You're not needed."

The knight bowed and left.

"Eat your meal. We'll talk tomorrow," Tommy told Deo. Then he walked out, leaving Deo with the two father-and-son duo.

A smile crept across Tommy's face as he made his way back to his room. The maid he passed was so startled that her basket of laundry clattered to the floor.

As he approached his door, he saw Fundy waiting for him. The young butler's ears perked up at the sight of him.

"Young Master, welcome back!" Fundy said, pulling the door open.

Tommy simply hummed in response as he stepped inside.

"Are you going to sleep now, Young Master?" Fundy asked.

"Yes. Now leave," Tommy ordered.

"Very well, Young Master. Have a good night's sleep!" Fundy bowed, then closed the door, leaving him to his thoughts.

Tommy collapsed onto his bed, exhaustion pulling at him.

Deo. Sam. Quackity. They've met now. The terror attack is in two weeks, he thought, rolling onto his back. To stop it, I need Deo.

He reached for a pillow, pulling it close and hugging it tight.

Tomorrow, I'll continue the search for the book, but right now... sleep.

Tommy smiled, imagining the three of them bonding as he drifted off. He was unaware that in another place, a knife had just embedded itself in a wall as Deo blocked an attack from the father-and-son duo.

The blond was sound asleep, his soft snores filling the bedroom. In the kitchen, a different kind of noise filled the air: the sharp, metallic clang of knives being thrown.