Chapter 2
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: The Return of the Prodigal Young Master
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"Aaaargh!"
Johann screamed as he tried to sit up, only to flop back down. His body was far too heavy to lift with just his abs.
"Huff... huff...!"
Johann lay there panting, staring up at the ceiling. The familiar pattern up there tugged at his memories.
'This is...'
He dragged his body upright—it felt like several heavy salt sacks were strapped to him—and staggered over to the full-length mirror.
"No way... this can't be..."
He couldn't believe what he saw.
Staring back from the mirror was his 18-year-old self, face frozen in shock.
While countless thoughts swirled through his mind, morning light had already broken through.
Grrrrowl...
'Ah, whatever. Food first, think later.'
The vivid hunger pangs felt too real for a dream, so Johann got up and headed downstairs.
'The villa?'
As he descended, he glanced around and realized this wasn't the earl's main mansion but one of the family villas.
'Right. Whenever I caused trouble, my parents would lock me up here. Back then, I hated it like it was a prison...'
He let out a snort.
He found his younger self ridiculous—complaining about a place like a palace when he had no idea what a real prison was like.
"Y-Young Master... y-you're awake? I-I've prepared b-breakfast."
"You..."
Johann frowned at the maid rushing toward him on the first floor, bowing frantically.
Her trembling intensified noticeably.
From his perspective, it was just a natural frown as he tried to recall her, but she clearly misunderstood.
And she had good reason to.
"Raise your head."
She cautiously lifted her gaze, revealing a face covered in bruises. She avoided his eyes as much as possible.
"Did I do that to you?"
Johann tried to mimic the refined speech of nobles, dredging up old memories.
'Feels awkward after so long.'
"P-Pardon? N-No! I-It was my fault for d-displeasing you, Young Master! I-It was all my mistake! P-Please forgive me!"
Just as I feared...
Even in a villa, who would dare lay a hand on a servant of an earl's house?
'Come to think of it, I was extra rotten here because I hated being stuck in this place. Especially the servants—I was always beating them whenever I saw them.'
This nameless maid was probably one of my punching bags back then.
'Johann, oh Johann. You really weren't human back then.'
"What's your name?"
"M-My name, sir?"
His sudden question startled her. He nodded.
'What did I do wrong now? Is he going after my family too?!'
Trembling in fear, she hesitated—but knew delaying would only make it worse. She squeezed her eyes shut.
"I-It's Joanna, Young Master!"
"Butler."
The elderly butler serving the villa hurried over and bowed.
"You called, Young Master?"
"Assign a soldier to escort Joanna home. And Joanna, you're excused from work for the time being."
"...!!"
The butler bowed with a grim expression at the abrupt order. Joanna's eyes widened, her legs giving out as she collapsed.
"W-What... Young Master! I-I'm sorry! I'll d-do anything you ask! I-I'll fix my s-stuttering right away! P-Please don't fire me!"
She sobbed hysterically, clutching his pant leg in desperation.
She had no choice. She supported over ten family members: young siblings, frail grandparents, sick relatives.
That's why she endured the threats to her life for the high pay here.
Her fellow maids knew her plight but could only watch pitifully—they had their own desperate situations and couldn't risk taking her side, lest they get fired too.
Johann knelt on one knee beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder as she clung to him, tears streaming.
"You're not the one who needs forgiveness—it's me. I'm sorry. I won't shamelessly beg for it, though. Go home and recover for now. Come back when you're fully healed. If you don't want to return here, the butler will help you find other work. Butler, make her leave paid."
"P-Pardon? Y-Yes, as you command, Young Master."
No one—not the butler, nor the maids watching tensely—could have imagined this. They were stunned.
But Joanna was the most shocked of all.
"Don't overthink it. Just rest at home. And get well soon. I mean it."
"Y-Young Master..."
As he watched her leave with the soldiers, Johann casually asked the butler,
"Does Joanna only stutter around me?"
"Well..."
"Be honest. It's fine."
"She was a novice maid, prone to mistakes while serving you. You scolded her often for it. Eventually, she started stuttering only in your presence."
"I must have lost my temper a lot."
The butler found it odd how Johann spoke of himself like a third party.
"You're different today, Young Master. Did something happen last night?"
"What, if it's weird, should I go back to normal?"
"N-No! Forgive me, I spoke out of turn!"
"Joking."
'That girl... she's probably still alive now, right?'
Seeing Joanna reminded him of someone.
During his days as a brutally worked slave, there was a fellow slave who stayed cheerful and bright despite it all. She brought smiles to the others even in misery.
At first, her attitude annoyed him. But over time, he realized she was his lifeline.
She had one flaw: she stuttered from nerves around the master.
The scoldings made it worse, and eventually, she was beaten to death over it.
Years later, Johann tracked down that master and killed him with his own hands.
'Wait. This time, I'll save you for sure.'
"Huff, huff!"
After a breakfast barely half—nay, a quarter—of his usual portion, Johann was running laps around the villa grounds nonstop.
"Am I dreaming right now?"
"Right? The Young Master jogging? Either it's a dream or... impossible."
"Wait, so we're all dreaming the same thing? That make sense?"
"It must, since it's happening. You think this is real? Damn, guard duty even in dreams... sigh."
The guards watching Johann sprint like mad doubted reality. It was utterly unbelievable.
Normally, he'd sleep till noon, gorge himself, torment soldiers or harass maids, wasting the day.
But now?
"Young Master! Stop! You'll get hurt!"
"Don't worry. People don't die from this."
He ignored the butler's desperate pleas and kept running.
The future he'd endured wasn't some dream or illusion—it was real.
Closing his eyes brought those memories flooding back, vivid as ever. The volcanic rage in his chest was uncontainable.
'I don't know how, but I'm back in the past. And this sure as hell isn't a dream.'
He'd suspected it was a deathbed hallucination at first, but now he was certain.
This was reality.
'So there's only one thing to do.'
Hector.
"Raaaaagh!"
The name ignited his fury into a roar.
His savior from slavery, his comrade-in-arms on the battlefield, his drinking buddy dreaming of the future...
He'd once forgotten his fallen kingdom's grudge and truly fought for the empire alongside Hector.
But that was delusion.
A hunting dog was just a dog—no amount of affection made it human.
'Wait just a bit longer, Hector. I'll rip your throat out soon.'
What Johann thought would last a day stretched into three months—and intensified.
"Young Master, three more left."
"Yeah? Add ten more."
"Pardon?! Sigh... yes, sir."
With heavy weights on his legs, Johann did handstand push-ups. He finished the extra ten before straightening up.
Butler Willard handed him a dry towel. Watching him wipe off sweat, Willard marveled.
'My god... compared to three months ago, he's a different person.'
That flabby body, which seemed better suited to rolling than walking—how had it transformed like this?
'A well-trained physique is a god's sculpture, and his buried good looks bloom daily.'
"When you started training, I was half thrilled, half worried. But seeing you now, I'm so proud!"
"And yet you tried so hard to stop me?"
"I was worried! Speaking of which, your training intensity was insane. Our soldiers were horrified watching you. Even the kingdom's special forces don't go that hard."
"You think I had time to care? Anyway, you're getting comfy with me—calling me crazy just now."
"Th-That...!"
Willard's face paled. Johann chuckled, draping the towel over his shoulder and patting it.
"Kidding. I know—I look like a madman."
"Young Master..."
But Willard didn't know. This was just the beginning.