"What kind of food is this?!"

A shrill, nigh-hysterical voice cut through the air, and then the sound of crashing cutlery echoed through the dining room.

Several people turned to look at the man who was kicking up a fuss.

The man was so beautiful that using the word to describe him seemed inadequate. His looks could rival those of the countries most beautiful men — the one with the appellation of "Golden" — and his anger only added to his charm.

In addition, every move he made was elegant and refined, even while throwing a tantrum.

He must have been nobility in some country, the heir to a highborn family. He flicked at his long blonde hair in annoyance, and glared at the food before him in dissatisfaction.

All manner of dishes packed the table before him.

There were freshly baked loaves of bread, still steaming in their basket. The plates were laden with thick, rare cuts of juicy red meat, served with sweetcorn and buttered mashed potatoes. The sight of them stimulated the appetite. The fresh vegetables which made up the salad were still crisp and soft, and their fragrant dressing filled the room with a citrus scent.

The food on the table would make any ordinary person's mouth water.

However, it was obvious that it was no match for the man's standards. His nose wrinkled and he turned his head away in disgust. He was acting like a rich, spoiled brat.

The waiters hovered nervously around the man, clearly intimidated by his aristocratic presence.

The highest class resturant in Yokohama — La Maison — it was a venue for the wealthy and influential to gather. The waiters were used to dealing with the elite.

However, despite the best efforts of the most skilled chefs that used the finest ingredients to produce culinary works of art — which only nobility, buisness men, or the wealthiest of merchants would be privileged enough to taste — the man's turned his nose up at the plates before him.

It was only natural to feel shocked by his complaint, but beyond that, the people who heard her also felt curiosity about what he normally ate.

"It tastes horrible!"

The words he uttered after that were singularly inappropriate for this place, and they left everyone in the room speechless.

However, the young maid behind the man kept her expression neutral and did not change her stance Even when the man turned and glared at her, she remained unmoved, as though she could not make any other facial expressions.

"Ahhhh, I can't bear to stay in this run-down city any further! We're setting out now!"

"But Young Master, it's already evening—"

"Silence! I said we're going, so we're going, do you understand me?!"

Only after hearing the man's childish tantrum did the maid's posture change.

She lowered her head and replied:

"Understood, Young Master. I shall begin travel preparations immediately."

"Hmph! If you understand, then hurry up and get ready, Hilda!"

The man tossed away the fork he was holding and rose to his feet, before flouncing out of the dining room. He was still fuming as he did so. After the storm had passed, a solemn, dignified voice lightened the heavy mood in the room:

"I apologize to everyone for the disturbance."

The maid picked up the chair which the man had knocked over and replaced it, then bowed deeply to everyone in the dining room as a sign of contrition.

Quite a few of them accepted the young girls immaculate apology with pitying eyes.

"—manager."

"Yes."

A man who had been waiting in the wings approached the butler.

"Once again, I apologize for startling everyone. Though I know it will not excuse this offense, I hope you will allow me to pay for the meals of everyone here."

Looks of delight bloomed on the faces of several of the diners as they heard those words. A meal in a five-star resturant like this would certainly not be cheap. If this young women was willing to pay for their food, that would be a good enough reason to forgive that man.

On the other hand, the manager's face remained impassive as he bowed politely in response to the maid's proposal. That natural reaction of his was proof that scenes like this had been seen many times, ever since this pair of master and servant had been coming to this resturant, and taken up logging's at the five star hotel above them.

Hilda looked toward a corner of the dining hall, at a destitute-looking man shoveling food into his mouth. As the man noticed Hilda'a eyes on him, he rose to his feet and quickly walked towards Hilda.

Compared to the other guests, the man seemed completely out of place. He lacked both style and class, and so he stood out from everyone around him.

Although his clothes were no shabbier than those of the people nearby, they did not go well on him. In fact, it was quite comical — like a clown in fancy dress.

"Mistress Hilda."

"What is it, Hiro-san?"

The other guests frowned as they heard the smarmy tones in which Hiro spoke. The way he wrung his hands went very well with the way he was toadying up to Hilda.

However, Hilda's expression remained unchanged.

"As a hired man, I have no room to propose an alternative… but would it not be better to reconsider the decision to set off immediately?"

"Are you saying you have difficulty driving a car at night?"

"That is one of the reasons, and… I have some… other business to take care of."

Hiro scratched his head over and over again. Though his hair looked clean enough, the way he was scratching made it seem like he was going to start throwing off flakes of skin. Quite a few people's frowns deepened further.

However, whether he had noticed or not, he ended up scratching even harder.

"However, the Young Master will most likely not accept that suggestion. Or rather, given the Young Master's personality, he will not change his earlier decision."

With a steely, unyielding look on her face, Hilda concluded:

"Therefore, we have no choice but to set out."

"But…"

Hiro's eyes darted around, looking for some other excuse to give. However, he found none, and he grimaced.

"Of course, we will not be leaving right away. We will need some time to load the Young Master's luggage onto the car. During that time, please prepare for our departure."

Hilda noted the wily gleam in the eyes of the impoverished-looking man before her as he scrabbled for something to say. However, Hilda did not show any signs that she cared.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

This was all to cover up the fact that all was going as planned.

"Then, when will we be leaving?"

"How about two, maybe three hours later? If we leave later than that, the streets will be shrouded in darkness. That is probably the limit."

That disgusting, calculative look appeared in the man's eyes again. Hilda once again pretended that she had not noticed it. After licking his lips several times, Hiro replied:

"Hehe, that should be fine."

"Excellent. Then, can I ask you to begin preparing right away?"

As she watched Hiro's retreating figure, Hilda waved his hand, as though to clear the air around him. It seemed polluted somehow, and it clung to her.

Hilda — her face a mask of neutrality — fought the urge to sigh.

Frankly speaking, Hilda had no love for such despicable characters. Perhaps her colleagues could derive some minor amusement from these people by treating them like toys, but Hilda did not want to let people like that near herself.

There were some shared opinions of his colleagues such as, "Everything which does not belong to the Angels of Hell is an inferior lifeform," and "and, Humans are weaklings that must be trampled."

But, she didn't necessarily belive those.

However, she began to feel that there might be some truth to them when she met wretched individuals like Hiro.

"Good grief. Humans should be an outstanding species…"

After raising her hand to stroke her neatly made hair, she turned her thoughts to what she should do next.

The plan was going quite well. However, she still needed to confirm the details with her observer.

Just as Hilda was thinking about the direction in which she would proceed, she noticed a man approaching her.

"It must be quite hard on you to have to set out at this time."

The person addressing her was a clean-shaven man in his late forties. His black hair was streaked with white, and due to age and heavy meals, his pot belly was soft and rounded.

He was tastefully dressed, in clothes that both reflected his high station and his sense of style.

"Fuji-san, I presume?"

"That's right, that's right. It seems you remembered my name."

Fuji looked quite pleased. He took a napkin out of the inner pocket of his jacket and dabbed his mouth, then smiled.

Hilda returned his smile politely, and said, "Forgive me for saying this, but you look like a regular customer of this restaurant."

He chuckled in response, then said: "Well, you're not wrong. I live nearby, so I come here quite often. I've had many business meetings here too, so I could say I'm a regular, indeed."

The man called Fujiwara Naora was a merchant, who controlled a large portion of the food trade in this city. For some reason, he had come over and begun speaking to Hilda. Fujiwara was heavily involved in the food trade here, which made him quite a big figure among the city's many businessmen.

Anyone in Yokohama with such power would never chat up someone else simply because they were eating in the same restaurant. Therefore, he must have had some motive for reaching out to her.

Still, Hilda had been expecting this.

"Hilda-san, that person's not a good sort."

"Is he?"

Hilda's expression changed for the first time as she smiled while answering courteously. Her response implied that she knew exactly who Fujiwara was referring to.

"He's not a trustworthy fellow. I have no idea why you would employ someone like him, Hilda-san."

Hilda thought quickly, looking for the answer which was most appropriate to the present circumstances.

She could not tell the other man the true reasons behind hiring Hiro. However, if she said that he had hired Hiro because he was a nobody, Hilda would look bad in the eyes of others and their opinions of her would suffer.

Although they had decided to leave this city, he wanted to avoid Fujiwara thinking poorly of him. In the future, they might need to make use of the man.

"That might be correct, but nobody has sold himself the way he does. Granted, his personality is flawed, but the Young Master appreciates his passion."

Fujiwara smiled uncomfortably, and his opinion of the young master in question fell by another notch. He was there for precisely that purpose, so it could not be helped, but Hilda still found it difficult have him take the blame for this.

"I fear I have gone too far. I hope you will remove those words from your memory; though I would still suggest that you try to persuade your maser otherwise."

"There might be merit in your words. However, when I think of the Young Master's father; that is to say, the kindness that he showed me, I simply cannot…"

"Of course, loyalty is important…"

Fujiwara's voice trailed off, and the rest was unintelligible.

"In that case, would you like me to send a few reliable men along with you?"

"There is no need for you to go to such lengths for us."

Those words may have been spoken with kindness and warmth, but they were an ironclad denial. Perhaps Fujiwara sensed the firm determination hidden within that reply, which was why he decided to try a different angle of approach.

"Is that so? I personally feel it would be better to be escorted by competent bodyguards. The way to the Capital is long, and unlike our neighbours, the roads of the country are not very safe. I could recommend some reliable mercenaries."

The security of the roads in the country fell to the government who owned the land through which those roads passed. In turn, they would collect a toll from travelers.

This was the privilege of those people, but in truth, it was little more than a means of collecting a road tax, and the security of the roads was riddled through with holes in many places. It was quite common for travelers to meet former mercenaries or retired war veterans who had turned to banditry while on the road.

If, for whatever reason, one were to become involved in a conflict with these people, the likelihood of a peaceful solution was extremely low. The mercenaries and war veterans' attitudes were extremely hostile towards outsiders and travelers, and it was not uncommon for them to kill people who tried to fight them.

This was a problem that even the government could not ignore, but due to the vastness of the roads and the fact that each road was owned by a different government entity, there were many problems that were not resolved.

Not to mention after world war III, a lot of the public land, even where roads pass through, were sold to private contractors and now if they want to do anything with them, they need permissions first which sometimes takes months.

In the end, the situation was one where the country could not ensure the safety of its own roads.

Therefore, while traveling, one typically hired a band of trusted mercenaries to defend themselves. A powerful and prestigious person like Fujiwara would surely know of well-trained and reliable mercenaries. However, Hilda could not accept his offer.

"Indeed, you might be right to say so. However, the Young Master does not like having people by his side, and so I am bound to comply with her requests as much as possible."

"Is that so?"

Fujiwara was now frowning in an exaggerated manner, a troubled expression on his face. This was how an adult would react in the face of a child throwing a tantrum.

"I apologize for having to reject your kindness."

"Please don't say that. In truth, I wanted to do you a favor, with the hopes of building a stronger relationship with you."

Hilda and company had lodged in the hotel above this resturant under the backstory of being an hier and his faithful maid who hailed from a city in some part of The New Federation. They had then shown the ample purchasing power such a background would merit, in order to see how the people around them would react. The favor fujiwara wanted to do was calculated to ingratiate himself with such wealthy people.

Hilda smiled gently at the fish which had taken the bait:

"I will relay your kindness to the Young Master's father(my master), Fujiwara-san."

Hilda knocked several times, announced herself, and then entered the room.

"Forgive my unsightly conduct from earlier, Hilda-san."

As Hilda closed the door after himself, a bare faced man greeted him. Anyone who had witnessed the scene in the dining room from earlier would probably be stunned, "Its fine, Lord Dark, you were simply doing your job. I didn't mind."

Hilda looked around the luxurious suits. Of course, it was hardly impressive to Hilda, compared to the place they all resided in. Her lack of surprise was simply because it was a poor choice for comparison.

From what she could see, there were stacks of luggage in the corner of the

room. They were packed and ready for travel, and not by Hilda. The preparations

had been completed by the only other person in the room.

"I'll tidy up the rest."

"It's fine, I can do it."

The man who raised his head to answer her was one of the one of the heads of the forces led by their Lord, Dark, a doppelganger, and her superior which was why she didn't want him to do any work, she was the maid here after all and he was higher in rank than her.

"All servants of my lord are equal to me, specially the one's created personally by him. So, why don't you let me clean it?"

Really now? But I am playing the role of your maid now, am I not?"

There was a mischievous grin on Hilda's beautiful face.

After seeing Hilda smile, Dark's face changed for the first time, to an uncomfortable smile.

"Indeed, you are my maid for now. Still, my point stands."

"…Well, that's true, then, since your my superior, I shall obey your order."

"…Yes. Thank you."

Hilda easily lifted up one of the biggest pieces of luggage before Dark suddenly began speaking, as though he had just thought of something.

"Speaking of which, is he moving as we expected?"

"Yes, all is proceeding as predicted."

Dark pressed the skin which covered his tightly shut eye.

"That's good to hear. Then, what's his situation?"

"Yes — currently, he is meeting with a disheveled-looking man. Do you wish to hear what they are saying?"

"There is no need for that. You can move the luggage right now, give me a summary afterwards."

"Understood."

Dark's face suddenly twisted.

The corners of his eyes dropped while his mouth curved upwards. While it vaguely resembled a smile, the contortions required to produce such an expression would be impossible for a human being to achieve. Perhaps it would be better to describe it as a distorted face made of clay.

"—Ah, that's right. Dark-sama, please permit me to change the topic."

"What is it, Hilda?"

"…After all this is over, may I dispose of that man? I hate the way he eyes my breasts."

Dark was slightly taken aback by the unexpected request.

However, he quickly understood why Hilda had brought up the subject, and began nodding in understanding.

"If it bothers you that much, then of course… I'll allow it. What did he even say, if anything at all?"

"Oh, something about 'I can't wait to have fun with her,' and, 'I will break her." So, since these chances are hard to come by, I intend to have fun with him as well."

Dark's smile beamed ever brighter.

That smile — as innocent as a child's — looked forward to what would come next.

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