ISEKAI? More like I See Crap!-Chapter 231: A Matter of Favor ( )

Several days after the Macia Town monster attack.

Inside a grand estate far from the frontline, deep within polished marble halls draped in blue-and-gold banners, a voice bellowed loud enough to shake the windows.

"That shitty human refused my invitation!?"

Lord Gurman, a thickset beastkin noble with a lion’s mane of gold-streaked hair and a taste for velvet robes, slammed his jeweled goblet onto the table, wine splashing onto priceless scrolls.

"How dare a lowborn black-haired outsider refuse me!" he snarled, pacing like a caged beast.

"How dare he turn down an honor others would beg for!"

His steward stood nervously near the chamber’s edge, eyes downcast.

"My lord... he was reportedly asleep during the request..."

"I DO NOT CARE IF HE WAS BATHING IN GOLD!!" Gurman roared, slamming a fist into the table.

"That human should have crawled to my feet the moment he heard my name!!"

He paced again, teeth grinding.

"This is beyond insult... this is rebellion. If we let this go, other towns will think they can ignore nobility. That I can be refused."

He turned, eyes burning with prideful rage.

"Send a message to the guild. I want that man brought to me—by force if necessary."

"B-But my lord..." the steward hesitated.

"He singlehandedly wiped out two gates’ worth of monsters... and he hasn’t taken the rank-up test, so technically he’s still a rookie. We don’t even know how strong he actually is..."

Lord Gurman narrowed his eyes.

Then smiled.

Not kindly.

"Then send someone stronger."

As Lord Gurman fumed, pacing like a beast denied its kill, a calm voice cut through the tension.

"My lord..."

Gurman paused mid-step.

Another butler, older, poised, with a long silver tail and round glasses resting on his nose, stepped forward.

"I advise... caution."

Gurman scowled. "Caution? He insulted me. He refused my invitation. Me!"

The butler gave a slow, respectful bow.

"Yes, my lord. But we must not forget..."

He looked up, gaze level.

"That man—the black-haired human—is bound by the Pinky Promise Oath."

The room fell silent.

Even Gurman’s clawed fingers stopped twitching.

"He is the partner... of our princess, Ellyna."

A pause.

"If we move openly against him, it will reflect not only on you... but on our house. On our kingdom’s nobility as a whole."

Gurman’s face contorted—between rage, frustration, and bitter realization.

"Tch... that damned oath."

He turned away, growling.

"That accursed promise... a mere pinky bind stronger than noble law..."

The butler gave a polite nod.

"Exactly. And if you act recklessly, my lord... you may find yourself accused of offending royal sanctity."

Another pause.

Then Gurman hissed through his teeth.

"Then what do you suggest? Let him mock me? Let him get away with it?" novelbuddy-cσ๓

The elder butler’s tone remained composed, but his words struck deep.

"For now, we should refrain from any rash action, my lord."

He adjusted his gloves calmly.

"If the royal court discovers we attempted anything dishonorable against the princess’s chosen... our household would be placed under scrutiny."

Lord Gurman gritted his teeth.

"Tch..."

The butler stepped closer, lowering his voice just enough.

"If His Majesty, King Lioness III, were to learn that you acted against the man bonded by the Pinky Promise Oath..."

He paused.

"You might very well lose your title... or your head, my lord."

The chamber chilled.

Even the other servants remained frozen, not daring to breathe too loudly.

Gurman slowly sat back into his chair, shoulders stiff, jaw tight.

"...That damn human," he muttered.

The butler gave a polite bow.

"Indeed, my lord. That is the power of royalty... and the price of offending it."

The butler’s voice softened, but the sting behind his words remained.

"If I may offer advice, my lord..."

"Try a different approach."

The butler straightened.

"Do not demand. Persuade. Invite him again,but this time with respect. Acknowledge him."

He walked slowly toward the window, sunlight glinting off his glasses.

"You see... unlike the marquises or dukes, who are bound by blood to His Majesty King Lioness III..."

He turned slightly, his gaze sharp.

"You, my lord, are a viscount."

Silence fell like a dropped blade.

Even the crackle of the fireplace seemed to hush.

"A noble, yes. But not irreplaceable."

Lord Gurman’s face twitched.

"Tch... So now I must grovel to some lazy, bun-eating, sword-waving peasant!?"

The butler gave a small, knowing smile.

"If that peasant has the heart of the princess, the protection of the king, and the power to slay rift monsters alone..."

A pause.

"Then yes."

The elder butler turned slowly toward the younger one, who stood still near the back—stiff, silent, and drenched in cold sweat.

"So, my lord..." the elder continued, voice calm but edged with steel,

"Gain his favor—and the kingdom may favor you in turn."

He gestured lightly, then pointed without looking.

"Perhaps this one..."

His finger moved slightly toward the bowing butler.

"...used arrogance in his attempt to ’invite’ the guest."

The younger butler flinched.

"He forgot, after all..."

The elder turned his head now, his eyes sharp as blades.

"...that he is just a butler."

The younger one instantly dropped into a full bow.

"F-Forgive me... I-I let my pride speak ahead of my station..."

The elder said nothing.

Just stared for a long, heavy second.

Then turned back to Lord Gurman.

"Your title may not be great, my lord... but if you align yourself properly... it can become great."

"Win favor with that man—and you may yet win favor with the throne."

"Damn it...!" Lord Gurman slammed his palm on the armrest again.

The elder butler stepped forward, bowing just slightly.

"If I may suggest, my lord..." he said calmly, voice like silk.

"Allow me to be the one to invite him. Personally. With care and respect."

Lord Gurman’s brows drew together.

"You think he’ll listen to you?"

"I believe... he will listen to sincerity."

The butler looked up, unflinching.

"And that, my lord, is something I can deliver."

He adjusted his sleeves with precise care.

"Think of this not as an apology... but as an opportunity."

He stepped to the side, gesturing gracefully toward the crest above the fireplace.

"Gain his favor... and word will reach the princess. Perhaps... even the king."

He let the silence sink in.

"If they hear your name spoken positively by the one bound to Ellyna..."

"You may rise. To Count, perhaps. Or higher."

Lord Gurman’s breath slowed.

And for the first time in minutes... he didn’t growl.

"...Fine."

He leaned back in his chair.

"Try it. But make damn sure it works."

The elder butler bowed.

"It shall be done, my lord."

( End Of Chapter )

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