The old man hesitated. His hands trembled, eyes darting between Saruto and his wife.
Finally, he let out a shaky breath. "Of course, Y'master…" (Y'master = Young-Master)
He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eyes. Shame pressed down on his shoulders like weight he couldn't lift. Every step he had taken in life as a husband felt meaningless in that instant.
But she noticed.
The old lady smiled and said softly. "Don't worry. I'm happy… as long as we'll be okay." Placing a gentle hand on his cheek.
Saruto's grin returned wide and confident with a pinch of arrogant. "Great!" he said, voice carrying across the room.
He turned his head slightly and snapped his fingers. "Elena!" Then muttered to himself, 'Is this how I do it?'
"Yes~ Y'master, you called for me~?"
Her voice came from behind him, calm and teasing, like an older sister sneaking up on a clueless little brother.
Saruto jumped slightly, startled. "Sheesh! Don't ever do that!" He adjusted his posture, running a hand down his coat as if to compose himself.
He turned his full attention to the elderly couple and order rudely, "Anyways, use whatever magic to heal her injury."
Elena bowed lightly, a small smile playing on her lips. "As you wish, Y'master~"
She walked toward the old couple and knelt down in front of the old lady, keeping her back straight.
She lifted both hands near the bruised knee.
"Please stand still, ma'am."
The old lady nodded slightly, gripping her husband to keep herself balance.
A soft glow spread from Elena palms. The faint shimmer of green light wrapped around the wound, the air humming as the healing magic began to work.
Riot, standing off to the side, crossed his arms and muttered under his breath. "Every time she does that, it looks peaceful. until you remember who she works for…"
"That bastard."
———
"Anndd..." A minute later, Elena clapped her hands together and smiled. "There, all finished."
"You'll have no problem moving now, ma'am."
The faint green light faded, leaving the old woman's knee spotless and smooth. She blinked, unwrapping the bandage with shaky fingers.
And there It is, Her leg flexed—no pain, no bruise, no stiffness, lastly no scar.
Her husband froze mid-breath, eyes widening as the realization hit, He looked at his fully healed wife.
His throat tightened, eyes beginning to tear over the floor.
The same man who could probably wrestle a bear looked one breath away from bawling.
"Hold it!" Saruto raised a hand sharply, his face twisting like he'd just about to seen something gross.
"Stop with the dramatic vulnerability. It's disgusting watching a muscle-brained old man cry."
The old man blinked, confused and slightly offended. "But… why? Those aren't in the agreement. Why would you treat her if—"
Saruto's grin spread wide enough to make even Riot tense watching from the sideline.
The corners of his mouth twitched unnaturally, and his eyes had that glint, one that said he's about to do something devilish again.
'What the hell, his mouth… he's drooling?!' the old man thought, leaning back a little.
Saruto reached into his coat with a smooth motion, rummaging the inside very very slowly with one hand.
For a moment it looked like he was about to pull out a bazooka or an sandwich.
Nobody could tell...
Then, with a triumphant "Hmgh!" he pulled out…
A single piece of paper.
"???" Before the old man could even ask, Saruto slapped it down on the table, then—almost ceremoniously—handed him a pen.
"Here," he said, smiling way too warmly, "please sign this paper as proof that you agree to the renovation. Mm…"
That smile wasn't comforting. It was the kind of smile you saw before someone sold you a lifetime gym membership you didn't remember signing up for.
Or in simple term, signing a pack with the literal demon.
The old man stared between the paper and Saruto's face, visibly sweating. He had no clue which was more dangerous.
Meanwhile Riot, in the front row seat, looked like he'd seen a ghost.
His entire body slightly trembled...
Not from fear, but from the raw, secondhand embarrassment of witnessing this movie unfold.
'What the fuck is these...?!'
'Also since when did he created that contracts??' he thought, barely keeping his composure as Saruto wiggled the pen toward the old man like an eager salesman.
The old man hesitated, then slowly reached for the pen.
His hand brushed against Satoshi's, and he immediately regretted it, the man's smile was too close, too warm, like a salesman again who'd just spotted a bonus check.
He began signing the paper, each stroke of the pen slightly shaky, his discomfort practically dripping off the ink.
When finish, he handed it back without a word, eyes fixed anywhere but Satoshi's creepy face.
"Thanks~" Satoshi gave a satisfied hum, folded the paper neatly, and slipped it back into his coat as if storing a priceless treasure.
The old man blinked, brain lagging behind. 'Wait... Did my body just move without thinking??'
The question hung heavy in his head. His mouth opened to ask what was even written in that cursed document—
"Alrighty then!" Satoshi clapped his hands once, loud and sharp. "Riot, get to work!"
Riot's head snapped up, face frozen. "What??" His tone cracked like a voice in puberty. He pointed at himself, eyes wide.
"Why should I do that?! It's clearly your responsibility!"
Satoshi turned to him with the blank confidence of a man who had never once been wrong in his own mind.
He lifted one finger. "Nuh uh."
Riot stared in disbelief. "…What do you mean nuh uh?!"
Satoshi just smirked, leaned back, and nonchalantly repeat. "Exactly what I said. Nuh. Uh."
Riot's jaw hung open, speechless, trying to find logic in these nonsense.
The old man just stood there, watching the verbal car crash unfold, while still wondering if he'd accidentally signed over his soul.
Saruto's grin tilted sideways, and his tone dropped into that dangerous, sing-song rhythm that usually meant someone was about to suffer... verbally, at least.
He leaned closer toward Riot, eyes half-lidded in mock disappointment.
"Have you forgotten," he began slowly, stretching every word like taffy...
"About how you almost harmed the old man?"
Riot froze like a deer in torchlight.
His whole body stiffened, shoulders jerking up to his ears. "U-h-uH uh-DAT(that)–ye-s b-utt i-i I was doing what f-father told me!!"
The words tumbled out in pure panic, his hands flailing upward as if he could physically push the accusation away.
Saruto raised a brow, pretending to ponder, then smiled... a smile so wide it could've powered the entire capital's streetlights.
"Mmm~ oh yeah?" He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice dipping into syrupy menace.
"So what if…" He paused dramatically, letting it hang in the air like a blade above Riot's sanity.
"…I tell Mommy about what happened?"
The world went silent. Even the creaky floorboards seemed to hold their breath.
Riot's face drained of color faster than a melting snowman. "Y-you wouldn't—!"
Saruto's grin sharpened. "Try me."
Riot instantly folded like wet parchment. "I—I'll start right now! Renovation! Got it! Where's the broom?! Where is the freaking broom?!?"
He bolted toward the counter, grabbing random tools with the coordination of a caffeinated squirrel, muttering under his breath about unfair family hierarchies and emotional terrorism.
The old man and his wife just watched in stunned confusion as the once brave knight they heard of, started sweeping the floor in defeat.
Saruto, satisfied, dusted his coat again and straightened up, humming proudly like a villain who'd just achieved world domination.
Through pure sibling blackmail, of course.
*
To be continued...
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Synchronization: 0████