The Second Son of the Marquis Wants to Laze Around-Chapter 53: Humiliation+

Raven clenched her teeth, humiliated beyond words. She never expected this. She thought the boy would torture her, beat her up, maybe even break a few bones. But this?

Why wouldn’t he stop? She had told them everything—how she had been hired by an anonymous client who paid her a large sum. Commander Gareth, after hearing the details, suspected the person was likely a wealthy noble from the Nerwyn Kingdom, possibly with connections to House Valmont. It could’ve been business-related... or something darker.

’I’ll have to report this to Lord Edric after we head back,’ Gareth thought to himself, still a little disturbed by the entire interrogation.

’No..maybeI should send a message, just in case...’ he thought deeply.

.....

"You still haven’t answered my question," Eren said coldly, delivering another sharp slap to her chest.

–Slap!

–Boing~

Unfortunately for Raven, Eren had no intention of stopping until he was satisfied—until he completely shattered her pride through this humiliating punishment for what she had done to him.

Even Useless, the system itself, trembled in fear just imagining itself in Raven’s situation. It didn’t even have a body, and yet it remembered all too well the time Eren had threatened that he would jump of a window again, if it dared disturb him while he was playing on his console. Since then, it had engraved one rule above all. ’Never disturb him unless absolutely necessary.’

"Fine! Just ask your stupid question and stop hitting me!" Raven yelled, only to receive a harsher slap in return that stung even more.

–Slap!

–Boing~

"Watch your mouth, Digger MILK," Eren said coldly, making her lower her head and shut her mouth instantly.

...

Eren then began bombarding her with strange and completely unrelated questions.

"How old are you?"

He asked stoically, making Raven look at him in confusion.

"Huh? Didn’t you already know—?"

–Slap!

–Boing~

"I said answer the question, Digger MILK."

"...thirty-four.." she muttered bitterly.

And so it began. Question after ridiculous question, and after every answer, another slap.

"What’s your hobby?"

"Drinking."

–Slap!

–Boing~

"What do you hate?"

"Loud people."

–Slap!

–Boing~

"What do you like to eat?"

"Roast meat."

–Slap!

–Boing~

Each response earned her another strike. She endured it through gritted teeth, humiliated and confused.

At first, Eren’s questions seemed nonsensical. But they slowly took a different turn. Turing from weird to... more sensitive.

"What’s your chest size?" he asked.

"...Excuse me?" she frowned in disbelief.

–Slap!

–Boing~

"I asked, what’s your chest size?" he repeated.

–Slap!

–Boing~

She hesitated, her face flushing red in shame. "...Seven..."

–Slap!

–Boing~

"I can’t hear you."

Clenching her teeth, she nearly shouted: "Seventy!"

Then came even more invasive questions.

Her weight. The size of her hips. The color of her bra. The kind of underwear she wore. etc.

Each answer made her cheeks burn hotter, and her melon shaking, and more of the knights nearby—those who hadn’t walked away—began blushing. Some turned their eyes away.

"I’ll ask again. Do you, &#^# yourself every night?"

–Slap!

–Boing~

Raven screamed, red-faced. "Why the hell do I need to answer this kind of question—?!"

–Slap!

–Boing~

"I said answer."

Bitting her lips, as she held her crying, humiliated beyond reason, she finally shouted back: "YES! I do, okay?! Every night! You heartless bastard!"

Her angry, embarrassed screams echoed through the forest clearing.

All the knights who heard that visibly flinched. Some turned away, blushing, shocked at what they’d heard. Even worse, none of them left. They continued listening—despite their shame. Even Kristoff and Hector, known for their noble ideals, stayed.

Granted, those two didn’t fully understand the meaning of everything being said. They had little knowledge of such things. So they got a pass.

What truly darkened the air was the expression on Marie’s face. She stared at the red-faced, flushed men with dark eyes, especially when her gaze locked onto Hector, as she clicked her tongue, feeling disgusted.

"Tch"

Meanwhile, Leon sighed deeply, covering his face with one hand. He finally spoke, his voice tired. "Alright. Enough gawking. Return to patrol duty."

Most of the knights quickly dispersed, leaving only Gareth, Kristoff, Hector, and Marie with Eren.

Back to the strange interrogation, Eren tilted his head and asked again, "Oh? So does that mean you’re a virgin?"

–Slap!

–Boing~

"You’re still asking me that kind of—"

–Slap!

–Boing~

"...Yes," Raven muttered in a broken voice.

With her head lowered, her pride shattered, she had completely given in. She no longer had the will to argue.

But Eren wasn’t done. Whether she answered or not, he continued slapping.

That’s when Gareth finally stepped forward. He grabbed Eren’s wrist with a firm hand.

"That’s enough, Master Eren," he said sternly, his tone calm yet resolute. "She’s had enough."

Gareth understood—Eren was venting his emotions, maybe even enjoying it. But there was a limit, both for her sake... and the young master’s. The punishment had already gone too far.

Eren stared at him with those lazy eyes again—this being the fourth time someone had dared interrupt him. But this time, he wasn’t angry. He just shrugged his shoulders indifferently.

"Fine. I’m done with her anyway," he said, pulling his arm away and rubbing his wrist. "My arm’s gone numb from swinging."

He removed his gloves and casually tossed them to the ground.

"You can have what’s left of her."

Those words made Gareth’s face turn ugly. They sounded wrong—disturbing, even. Leon and Marie clearly felt the same.

Just as Eren was about to leave, a weak voice mumbled behind him.

"...Just kill..."

Eren looked back at her, followed by the others.

Raven looked up at them, tears streaking her face. Her voice trembled.

"Please... just kill me already!" she shout in anger and tears, like if she got &$^# by someone.

The air fell silent.

Eren and the others widened their eyes in surprise. None of them expected those words to come out of her mouth.

....

....

....

_____

(Mereoleona Side Story)

Within the grand halls of the d’Armand mansion, the elder daughter’s room rested in elegant silence—at least, until the sound of running water echoed faintly from the adjoining bathroom.

—Click.

The door creaked open, releasing a small puff of steam as Mereoleona stepped out. Her freshly washed, fiery red hair clung to her shoulders before she swiftly tied it back into a high ponytail with a simple ribbon. A crisp white towel was wrapped around her chest, and her skin still glistened with droplets from the bath.

She had just finished an intense day of training—one that pushed her limits again. But it paid off. Her Aura ability had improved noticeably, growing sharper and stronger thanks to her relentless dedication and the guidance of none other than Knight Commander Sir Carlos himself.

Challenging a Level 5 Awakener had been far more grueling than she had anticipated. But despite the bruises, scuffed hands, and sore muscles, her swordsmanship had grown far more refined. Carlos didn’t hold back in her training—he never did—and she respected that.

Standing confidently in the center of her room, she closed her eyes and pictured the sensation of holding a sword. Her stance shifted naturally as she imagined facing off against a Level 2 Awakener knight.

"Hyah!"

With a swift motion, she performed an imaginary counter, slashing through her foe’s defenses in her mind’s eye. Her opponent dodged with agility, striking back in a blur of movement that forced her to leap back—her feet barely touching the carpet as she mimicked the motion.

—Click!

The door to her room opened with a light knock just a moment too late.

"My lady? Are you finished with your bat—?"

Lilian, her personal maid, stepped in and immediately froze.

In the middle of the room stood Mereoleona, wrapped only in a towel, caught mid-battle pose like a stage performer frozen in time. One leg lifted, one hand outstretched dramatically, and eyes blazing with warrior focus.

They locked eyes.

Mereoleona chuckled awkwardly as she slowly straightened up and scratched the back of her head. "Ah, Lilian. I just got out not too long ago."

—Flip!

As if the universe were mocking her, the towel around her chest slipped and dropped to the floor in one traitorous motion.

The room fell silent again.

Both Mereoleona and Lilian stared at the fallen fabric. Then, at each other.

With a loud gasp, Mereoleona grabbed the towel and pulled it back up in record time, her face turning red. Lilian, however, narrowed her eyes in disapproval, her expression unchanging and stoic.

She wasn’t upset about the towel incident—not really. No, what truly ruffled her feathers was the trail of water droplets trickling from the bathroom all the way across the room.

"Lady Mereoleona," Lilian began, her voice calm but firm.

"How many times must I tell you not to leave the bath until you’ve dried yourself properly?"

The young lady shifted her gaze away, her lips tightening into a small pout. "Sorry... I forgot."

With a sigh, Lilian pointed a finger at the wet floor. A soft glow lit her fingertip as she murmured a drying spell.

—Vooooom!

A warm gust of hot air surged from her index finger, sweeping over the floor like a magical blow-dryer, evaporating every drop in seconds.

"Seriously," she muttered, brushing aside a lock of hair. "When will you learn to take care of yourself?"

Mereoleona laughed sheepishly. "I really did forget this time, I swear."

Not looking convinced, Lilian slowly turned her gaze toward her lady and raised the same finger again—this time, toward her face.

"Wait, Lilian, I’m dry now! I swear I—!"

—VOOOOOOM!

A sudden blast of warm air hit Mereoleona’s face directly, making her squint and stumble back slightly. Her ponytail fluttered like a flag in the wind.

"L-Lilian... tha’ enuf..."

Only after thoroughly drying every last bit of moisture did Lilian lower her hand.

"If you ever step out of the bath wet again," she said stoically, "I’ll use the cold air spell next time."

Mereoleona visibly shivered. That threat was not to be taken lightly. She still remembered the time she’d asked Lilian—at age nine—to use the cold spell on her as a form of training for her cold endurance. But when she asked her to use the spell on her during her bath, she regretted that request almost instantly. It had felt like being hit by the breath of an arctic dragon.

"O-of course, of course! Don’t worry, I won’t forget!" she exclaimed hurriedly.

Lilian remained unmoved.

....