Servant Sari supported Nara all the way to the dining room, where four servants stood beside the dining table. Their job was to serve their master and mistress whenever they were there.
When Nara arrived in the dining room, all four servants immediately bowed to her and greeted her in unison.
One of them pulled out a chair for Nara. With Sari's help, Nara sat down. “Thank you,” she said.
“Miss, you're extremely weak. I told the cook to prepare some beef soup for you so you can regain your strength.”
Servant Sari instructed the servant in charge of preparing the food to serve Nara immediately.
The servant bowed and placed soup and rice on Nara's plate and in her bowl. “Please enjoy, Miss,” she said.
Nara looked up at Sari and smiled. “Thank you. I'll eat it.”
Nara was indeed feeling extremely sad and tormented, but the servants in this house had done nothing wrong to her. They were only following the orders of their master—Zico.
'If I don't listen to them and refuse to do what they ask, their jobs—or even their lives—will be at stake. I can't let that happen.'
Nara finally ate the food the servants had prepared. Sari smiled, or rather, she felt relieved that her mistress was finally willing to do as she asked. If she hadn't, their master would surely have been angry, and her job would definitely have been in danger.
As she ate, Nara looked around the dining room. She also watched the four servants courteously serving her, as well as Sari, who was smiling at her. “Um, sorry. Can I know your name?” she asked.
“Of course, Miss. I was assigned to serve you here. My name is Sari, Miss,” Sari replied with a smile.
“How old are you?” Nara asked again.
“I’m twenty-five, Miss.”
“Wow, you're two years older than me. Can I just call you Sari?”
“I can't, Miss. Master will be angry. You may only call me by my name.”
Nara looked annoyed again when Sari mentioned Zico's name in front of her. Without saying anything else, Nara simply continued eating without much appetite.
“Miss, is the food not good?” someone asked from behind Nara.
Nara abruptly turned around and saw the person approaching her. He was a tall, medium-built man around fifty years old, smiling as he walked toward her. He wore the distinctive uniform of a head butler in a tycoon's household.
'Who is he?' Nara wondered.
The man bowed to Nara and introduced himself. “Allow me to introduce myself, Miss. My name is Sandi. I’m the head butler of this house. You can call me Mr. San.”
“If you need anything or want to go anywhere, you must report it to me first, because I have to report it to Master. I hope you can follow the rules of this house,” he continued.
Nara said nothing. She merely sat there in silence, studying the man who claimed to be the head butler of the house.
'Is this some kind of kingdom? Why are the rules here so strict? And why do they all obey and fear that demon so completely? Does he torture everyone here whenever they offend him?' she wondered.
“Miss, I asked you earlier if the food was bad. Why don't you seem to be enjoying it?” Mr. San asked again, snapping Nara out of her thoughts.
“Huh? No, the food is good. Really good,” Nara replied, a little nervously.
“Are you sure?” Mr. San asked again.
“Y-yes.”
“Thank goodness you said it was good. Because if you said this food was bad, the cook who prepared it would certainly lose his hands immediately,” Mr. San replied with a grin.
Nara jolted, her throat tightening when she heard what Mr. San had said. “W-what? L-lose his h-hands?” she stammered.
“That's right, Miss. If a cook prepares bad food, doesn't that mean his hands are no longer useful for cooking?”
“Cough, cough, cough.” Nara choked on her food after hearing Mr. San's answer. Fortunately, Sari, who was beside her, quickly handed her some water to soothe the burning in her throat.
Mr. San showed his grin again. “Well then, I'll be going now, Miss. Please enjoy your meal.” Mr. San bowed once more before leaving the dining room.
Nara wiped her mouth with the napkin prepared beside her plate. She dabbed at her lips, her thoughts still churning because of the head butler's terrifying words.
'Is everyone here a psychopath? Why is nothing they say normal at all? Then again, if it's true, it wouldn't be surprising. Their master really is a psychopath—a high-level psychopath who slaughtered my family without mercy,' she said inwardly.
Because she was thinking about such strange things, Nara glanced again at the servants beside her. 'Are they psychopaths too?' she wondered.
Nara swallowed hard. Honestly, she was terrified after hearing what Mr. San had said. His words had made Nara's already poor appetite disappear completely, replaced by nausea.
“Miss, are you all right?” Sari asked.
“I-I'm fine. I've finished eating, and I want to go back to my room,” she replied.
“All right, Miss. Let me escort you.” Sari then looked at the four servants. “Clean all this up,” she continued.
“Mm, no need, Sari. I can go by myself,” Nara refused.
“But, Miss...”
Nara looked at Sari in a way that made it clear she didn't want to be contradicted. Sari understood and accepted Nara's wishes. “All right, Miss. Please be careful on the stairs. You're still very weak,” she said.
Nara said nothing more. She simply turned around and left the dining room. To be honest, she already felt uncomfortable, especially after hearing Mr. San's words, which she found utterly terrifying.
“How can he talk so casually about removing someone's body parts? Doesn't he feel sick saying something like that?” she muttered as she climbed the stairs.
Without Nara realizing it, Mr. San was still watching her, observing her reaction after hearing his words.
Mr. San smiled mysteriously as he watched Nara's seemingly frightened demeanor. “Master was right. She's nothing but a little mouse that's so easily frightened, especially when it encounters a big cat,” he murmured.