Standing in the night wind at the edge of the clock tower, Greg's mouth twitched as he listened to her opening remark.
“Hey, hey, getting killed for being a few minutes late? Isn't that standard a bit too harsh? What is this, some new form of workplace bullying? Or is it that in the eyes of my former personal maid, her master's life is only worth a second-hand precision of time? Ah~ I get it. This must be some form of twisted loyalty, right? Using death threats to demonstrate concern—what a creepy yet touching master-servant bond...”
Greg drew out his words, his eyes dead as he stared at Allie.
Allie seemed completely oblivious to his lengthy rant. Maintaining her perfect smile, she tilted her head slightly, gazing at him with her clear blue eyes as she continued:
“Besides, Young Master actually came to meet me in such tattered clothes. How rude. If you neglect your appearance like this next time, I'll strip you bare and throw you into the fountain in Central Square~”
Greg: “...”
He looked down at his academy uniform, coated in dust and bearing scorch marks and slashes, then looked back up at Allie, whose every strand of hair remained immaculate under the moonlight.
“Public execution just for sloppy attire?! Are your maid punishments getting weirder and weirder by the day?! Besides, whose fault is it that I look like this? I had to rush over to meet someone who vanished after leaving behind a death notice! Do you think I wanted to climb this high-ass clock tower in rags?!”
Allie blinked, appearing to ponder for a moment, before clapping her hands together softly in enlightenment:
“Ah, put that way, it truly was my oversight. Next time, I shall prepare a change of formal clothes for you before carrying out the punishment. There should be no problem with that, correct?”
“There's a massive problem with that! The clothes aren't the main issue here, hey!”
Greg slapped a hand to his forehead, feeling that communicating with this bizarrely minded maid was far more exhausting than dodging monsters in the dungeon.
Just then, a drifting cloud passed, allowing clearer moonlight to pour down unimpeded, illuminating the top of the clock tower in brilliant silver.
The scathing retort Greg was about to spew caught in his throat.
Because under that cold, clear moonlight, he saw it distinctly.
Deep within Allie's blue eyes—which always carried a perfectly arched smile—there was a flash of deep, unmistakable worry that she hadn't managed to hide in time.
That concern was so genuine, forming an absurdly glaring contrast with the casual “I'll kill you” and “I'll strip you naked” coming from her mouth.
Allie seemed to realize that the moonlight had betrayed her feelings, as the canned smile on her face faded slightly.
She looked at Greg, remaining silent for two seconds before speaking in a tone completely different from before—quiet and almost cold:
“Next time, don't pull a sudden vanishing act on me again. You... hopeless idiot.”
No threats, no jokes, and no honorifics.
Just a blunt statement, tinged even with a trace of impatience.
Greg froze.
Having spoken, Allie turned her head to look back at the dimly lit Yenier City below, leaving Greg with only a profile outlined in silver by the moonlight.
The night wind stirred her long golden hair, strands brushing across her expressionless face.
Looking at her, the irritation in Greg's chest suddenly dissipated for the most part.
He knew.
Although neither her words nor her tone conveyed the slightest hint of concern, he knew better than anyone—Allie was completely sincere.
She truly was worried about him.
If she didn't truly care, why would she, across countless crappy Bad Ends in the original game, no matter how foolish a path he took or how miserable an end he suffered, follow him to the very end without hesitation, accompanying him toward that dismal, foreordained fate?
She was the only one.
The only person who would stand by his side from beginning to end.
Even if the protagonist of this world wasn't him, even if he played a villain hated by everyone, even if he brought about his own demise time and time again.
“Honestly...”
Greg sighed softly, his voice scattering in the wind. “What is there about me that's worth you doing all this?”
He took two steps forward to stand beside Allie, looking down at the city's night view as well.
“Hey, Allie.”
He spoke, his voice much calmer now:
“I'm not a noble anymore. I've been removed from the House of Sass, and you're no longer my maid either—you're a free person now. Why not... take this opportunity to live the life you actually want?”
“The life I want?”
Allie turned her head, a trace of genuine confusion gracing her face, as if failing to comprehend why Greg would ask such a question.
“I believe the life I am living right now is precisely the life I want.”
“Huh?”
“Because...”
Allie explained in all seriousness, even raising a single finger:
“When I am upset, I can beat you with my sword whenever I want, which puts me in a very good mood. If I did that to someone else anywhere else, I would most likely be wanted and hunted, which would be very troublesome. Therefore, being able to beat you legally satisfies me completely. This is the life I want.”
Greg: “...”
He took a deep breath, feeling whatever warm emotions had just stirred inside him instantly thrown to the dogs.
“Hey! You rotten maid! What do you take your master for?! Your personal emotional punching bag?! Or a humanoid stress-relief device?!”
“Former master,” Allie calmly corrected him.
“A former master is still a master! Give me some damn respect, you bastard!”
But yelling aside, Greg knew deep down that Allie's words were only half-serious.
Beating him up might genuinely boost her mood, but the deeper reason was that the option of 'leaving' had simply never crossed her mind.
She had long since tied her very existence to the man named “Greg Sass.”
Whether he was a noble or a commoner, riding high or hit rock bottom.
If possible, Greg actually didn't want her to stay by his side.
This world was filled with perils for him, and those known and unknown death CGs hung over his head like the Sword of Damocles.
If Allie stayed with him, she would only be dragged into the same dangers—perhaps even triggering worse chain reactions due to her off-the-charts strength, driving her toward those Bad Ends.
Although Greg had anticipated that she might not leave easily, he hadn't expected her attitude to be this firm.
Greg sighed once more, this time filled with even more helplessness.
“Fine, do whatever you want.”
Giving up on persuading her, he switched to a more practical topic:
“Though let me make things clear first. My own life is pretty rough right now, sleeping rough in that godforsaken dungeon, so I probably won't be able to pay you any wages for the time being...”
He paused, his gaze subtly drifting toward the small leather pouch at Allie's waist, which looked quite heavy.
“...Wait, you should have some savings on you right now, right?”
Rate on N.U.
