Chapter 8 – This Ain't Irony. It's Life.
Roswaal: "Our first meeting was quite… unusual, don't you think, Mr. Guts?"
Guts: "…"
Roswaal: "Not much of a talker, are you?"
Emilia: "Roswaal, he's the one who saved me and brought back my insignia."
They were all seated around the dinner table now. Ram and Rem stood to the side, as maids should. Guts, surprisingly, had a massive appetite—understandable, considering he hadn't eaten properly in years.
Guts: "I missed good food..."
Roswaal: "It seems our guest is enjoying the meal, Rem, Ram."
Guts: "This is amazing. Whoever cooked this—props to you… Though I've got no idea who the hell did it."
Ram: "It was Rem. She's a great cook."
Guts: "Huh. So one of you cooks well, and the other cleans?"
Rem: "No. I'm also good at cleaning."
Ram (proudly): "I can cook boiled potatoes."
Guts: "Is that really something to be proud of…?"
He took a sip of water, then leaned back a bit.
Guts: "Anyway, maybe now someone can explain what that insignia really is. Why are people dying over a trinket?"
Roswaal: "The Kingdom of Lugnica... Once upon a time, the royal family made a contract with a dragon. But now, the entire royal bloodline has vanished."
Guts: "Tch. Nobles are a pain in the ass in every world."
Roswaal (raising an eyebrow): "World?"
Guts: "…Just a saying."
Emilia: "I was chosen as one of the candidates to become the next ruler of Lugnica… I'm not very experienced, but if I had lost the insignia—"
Guts: "I see. But how can we trust a kingdom to someone who can't even hold onto her own emblem? Nobles love to make drama out of nothing."
Emilia looked down, her fingers tightening around her fork.
The words hit deeper than she wanted to admit.
Emilia (softly): "Can't even keep my insignia… I really am useless, aren't I?"
Guts (blunt): "Umm…"
Puck (sighing): "She's going through her own troubles. Don't mind her too much."
Guts: "I see…"
Roswaal: "Anyway, dear Guts. You may request anything you want. Just remember, refusing isn't really an option."
Guts already knew he had to come up with something that wouldn't make him look like a complete pushover. There was only one logical choice.
Guts: "First of all, stop calling me dear, it's weird. Second, I don't have money or a place to sleep, so…
Why not just hire me?"
Roswaal: "Haha! Quite the practical request, dear Guts."
Guts: "I said stop calling me dear, freak."
Roswaal (chuckling): "As you wish. Ram and Rem will get you a uniform.
From today on, you are a butler of this mansion."
Guts (minds ): From slaying apostles to serving tea. If that wasn't irony, he didn't know what was
Life sure had strange turns.
Guts: "Come to think of it, you two aren't big talkers either."
Rem: "You're not exactly chatty yourself."
Guts: "I speak through action more than words."
Ram: "You seem more like a barbarian than a butler… I wonder how ridiculous you'll look in uniform."
She opened a nearby wardrobe and began searching.
Guts: "Nah… I doubt any of these pipsqueak outfits will fit me."
Rem: "You're probably right."
Ram: "We'll just have to take your measurements."
Guts: "If you say so."
Rem pulled out a measuring tape and began checking his size.
As she worked, she realized—his body was like carved stone. Solid muscle. Not just strength, but hardened by years of war and survival.
She'd never seen a man like him.
Rem (quietly): "All done. Your uniform will be ready by tomorrow. For now, Ram will show you around the mansion."
Guts: "Sure."
[Time skip]
While Rem returned to her tasks, Ram began guiding Guts through the halls.
Guts: "Hey, Pink."
Ram: "Why are you calling me Pink?"
Guts: "You've got pink hair. It's rare where I'm from.
Colorful hair in general is."
Ram: "And where I'm from, black hair is rare."
Guts: "Heh. Worlds apart, huh."
Ram: "Clearly.
Anyway, what was that question you were so eager to ask?"
Guts: "You and your sister… You seem really close. Do you care about her?"
He didn't even know why he asked.
But Ram answered without hesitation.
Ram: "I care about her more than my own life.
She's all I have."
Guts: "Family, huh…"
He paused, eyes darkening. His thoughts drifted backward…
[Flashback – Guts, age 5]
He remembered Shisu, the only one who ever showed him kindness.
But by the time he was five, he was already in war.
Not as a soldier—just a boy carrying weapons.
Gambino: "Guts! Hand me that spear!"
Guts (nervous): "Y-Yes…"
He handed the spear.
Gambino used it to kill an enemy soldier—
but the man was still breathing.
Gambino: "Hey, Guts."
He threw a knife at the boy's feet.
Gambino: "Finish him."
Guts: "B-But…"
Gambino: "This is the battlefield. Kill or be killed. Hurry."
Shaking, Guts picked up the knife and approached.
The man coughed, looked up.
Soldier: "Please… I have a wife… a child… spare me…"
Gambino: "Shut up! Guts, do it!"
And he did.
His first kill—a wounded man begging for mercy.
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