I slowly looked around the room.
Not only was it covered in all sorts of magic spells, but the bed was adorned with colorful jewels. Selling just one of them would change my life forever.
But in stark contrast to all this opulence, the walls were lined with taxidermied heads of ferocious monsters.
Drakes, ogres, minotaurs, and so on.
Each one was a massive, notoriously powerful beast. Though their species differed, the faces twisted in agony were all the same.
Gold. And violence.
In this interior that so transparently reflected the original owner's tastes, I opened my mouth.
"Shit."
"Young Lord, you are soon to become the head of House Zahav. Please mind your words."
"Yeah. I thought about it carefully, and it still feels like shit."
I let out a deep sigh and glanced to the side.
She was a petite girl with slender limbs and silver hair neatly cut to shoulder length.
Her stoic expression made it impossible to read her thoughts, but her delicate features were so pretty that even her blank face looked picturesque.
One peculiar thing was how tightly her butler uniform clung to her body.
She had said she was receiving butler training under her grandfather, the Head Butler.
That was the story she told me when she and the Head Butler came to extract me from Calypso Territory, the empire's largest underworld hub.
It had been about ten days ago already. The memory of that day, when the two of them tracked down where I lived, was still fresh.
Of course it was. How could I forget the day I finally stepped onto land outside Calypso Territory, just because I was born there?
Well, there was the minor issue that they mistook me for my brother who died twelve years ago.
Considering my mother's profession as Brothel Ace, the odds of her having the same biological father as my brother were extremely slim.
But what did it matter?
I'd been living well on Earth, only to suddenly get kidnapped to another world and reborn in a baby's body, no less.
Then my mother and brother—my only supports—got caught in a gang war and murdered, and before I even turned ten, I was sold to a dark wizard organization.
From that day on, my sole goal had been escaping Calypso Territory.
Sure, the aftereffects of human experiments flared up sometimes, my hard-earned shack collapsed now and then, and I kept getting mistaken for someone else...
But in the end, I'd escaped Calypso Territory. Legally, even. So, all good.
I could've snuck out anytime, but the things I'd done to survive would've put a bounty on my head immediately.
That's why the empire leaves Calypso alone in the first place and dumps its unmanageable criminals there.
With such a massive prison, they'd notice right away if someone escaped.
I wasn't dreaming of escape just to live as a fugitive, so when they showed up—House Zahav's Head Butler and his granddaughter—I was overjoyed.
I'd realized early on they mistook me for my brother, but I closed my eyes tight and nodded along anyway.
No better opportunity was likely to come.
...Well, I hadn't expected the father (not really) to name me Young Lord and then die on the spot the first day I met him.
Not even Patriarch yet, but if it came out that I was an outsider with no blood ties?
They sure as hell wouldn't laugh it off amiably.
I scratched my head vigorously and spoke to the butler girl staring at me blankly.
"Listen. Ka... what was it again?"
"Karen Kesef."
"Right, Karen. Listen. Does this make any sense? I'm supposed to be a bastard. Nobody objects to me becoming Young Lord—and Patriarch—just like that? I haven't even proven any abilities."
"Indeed. Young Lord, you haven't shown anything to the retainers yet. Surely some will have complaints."
"Right? So why not have me compete with my other siblings and hand the Patriarch position to the superior one?"
"There are none."
"Huh?"
"No one in House Zahav besides Young Lord holds succession rights."
"???"
House Zahav. Even stuck in Calypso, I'd heard the name now and then.
Good rumors, bad ones, utterly ridiculous ones... The point was, it was a huge, powerful house.
But no heirs with succession rights? What did that mean? Producing heirs was a noble's duty, as far as I knew.
As I blinked in confusion at this incomprehensible info, Karen continued in her flat tone.
"Until a few years ago, House Zahav had thirty-one heir candidates locked in fierce competition."
"Thirty-one? I grew up in Calypso, so I might not know, but aren't succession rights usually only for direct male descendants?"
"Correct. They were all direct male descendants of the previous Patriarch."
"...Wow."
The previous Grand Duke Zahav I'd seen was a pitiful wreck, ravaged by illness, but he must've been no joke back in the day.
As I marveled inwardly, Karen continued in her even voice, as if it were nothing.
"And all thirty-one perished in the succession struggle."
"Huh?"
"That's not all. Many without succession rights died too."
According to Karen's explanation, the only survivors were the eldest daughter, holed up in a annex over family matters, and the second daughter, studying at the imperial academy in the capital.
All other daughters—even the wives—had died.
"Hold on. At this point, I'm guessing... all the other bastards besides me are dead too?"
"As expected of Young Lord. Such keen insight befitting the next Grand Duke Zahav. Lady Jevella, the eldest; Lady Yuria, the second daughter; and Young Master Enoch. These three are the only remaining Zahav bloodkin."
Clap clap clap.
Karen applauded with her utterly expressionless face. The dry sound drilled into my ears.
This was insane.
Unlike Earth, this world overflowed with dangers.
Civilization was only slightly more advanced than the Middle Ages.
Naturally, unless in special circumstances, only men could become heads of noble houses.
In other words, as Karen said, House Zahav was one bad day away from the line ending.
No wonder. I'd only glimpsed the retainers briefly, but though they talked a lot, none opposed declaring me Young Lord. Now I knew why.
But this situation was inconvenient for me too. I'd impersonated my dead brother just to escape Calypso Territory.
I had no intention—or ability—to swallow up House Zahav. I'd tried gathering like-minded folks there to live well together, but it ended badly...
If I couldn't even manage a small club-sized group, a behemoth like House Zahav was out of the question.
Above all, a prestigious house like this must have ways to verify bloodlines.
I dreaded the backlash when they discovered I was a fake bastard. So the best plan was to step down from Patriarch gently before that happened.
And conveniently, there was the perfect candidate to hand it to.
Jevella Zahav.
The sole surviving eldest daughter of House Zahav, born of pure bloodline unlike me, the fake bastard.
She was a woman, sure, but with the house in this state, what did that matter?
Women couldn't become Patriarch unless in exceptional cases—but this was that case.
Without the previous Patriarch's will, the Grand Duchy probably wouldn't have gone to her.
With legitimacy on her side, the possibility overflowed.
"Heh."
My lips curled into a grin involuntarily.
Simple.
I just had to make everyone think it was better for Jevella to become Patriarch than me, somehow.
And luckily, I had the perfect method.
Where did I grow up? Calypso Territory. The empire's biggest underworld, the continent's trash bin.
Blood matters, but so does upbringing.
I just needed to engrave that simple fact into the minds of House Zahav's retainers.
A spoiled brat.
A noble house's spoiled brat. How familiar that ring.
Fortunately, I retained knowledge from all the novels I'd read on Earth.
Plenty of reference material on spoiled brats.
Let's see you handle the perfect spoiled brat crafted from 21st-century big data...!
If you can't, exile me before I truly inherit House Zahav!
Then, as a free man... I could live a proper life.
Buy a house in a safe area, complain about hating work without fearing for my life.
Come home after work, soothe myself with a beer.
And end the day drifting off in modest fulfillment.
The ordinary daily life I'd enjoyed thoughtlessly on Earth before reincarnating here.
Yeah. That'd be enough.
For a moment, motivation surged at the fond vision in my mind. Then a sudden doubt rose, and I spoke.
"Oh, but what if my sisters marry? Bringing in sons-in-law or bearing sons would make ignoring their legitimacy hard."
I asked casually, probing for an easier, faster way. But the response was unexpected.
"No need to worry. They'll bear your children anyway, so no unnecessary noise."
"...What?"
Unable to process what I'd heard, I tilted my head. Karen explained again in her calm voice.
"House Zahav is in an extremely vulnerable state now. In such times, you must produce heirs with thick blood."
"W-Wait! You mean what I think you mean? For real?"
At my horrified voice, Karen blinked as if wondering what the problem was.
"It's common in House Zahav."
"..."
"For reference, this is also the previous Grand Duke's will."
"Ah."
Then it hit me.
The rumors about House Zahav that even reached the slums of distant Calypso. The most absurd one was true.
House Zahav. Among the empire's four great ducal houses, renowned for top-tier martial prowess. Its derogatory nickname was...
Incestuous Noble House.
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