Linda Sinclair, the Maid
As I focused intently on Linda Sinclair—the maid I'd been calling Orange—with a spark of curiosity about her, information that had been hidden until now smoothly floated up above her head.
Having come from the outside into this game world as an otherworlder, I'd grown sick of seeing nicknames bobbing above every damn person's head like annoying flies. The day I willed them away in frustration, I discovered the ON/OFF toggle for nicknames and kept it OFF ever since, just enjoying the game world as it was. But that only works if you've scouted the world thoroughly beforehand, right?
I'd leveraged my family's halo by hyping up my old man as some great figure, but in a situation where I didn't even know his name or existence for sure, I figured it was smarter to at least grasp info on the people around me rather than fumbling through some half-assed act.
'This world's got tech that can swap personalities like flipping a switch... Strangers are fine, but folks who know me, like just now, might sense something off...'
Swallowing my bitter unease, I confirmed the name of the girl I'd been solo-calling Orange and saw it matched her maid getup perfectly. I let out a relieved sigh and nodded.
'At least no bullshit like "maid disguised as assassin" trope.'
With my admiral dad's background casting such a massive shadow, I half-worried someone might not touch him but take a swing at his kid—me. So I'd been subtly channeling mana to reinforce my body without tipping them off... But it seemed that clichéd crap wasn't on the schedule yet. I grinned slyly.
"Linda, Linda, Linda."
Grinning ear to ear as I cheerfully called her name, Linda—who'd been walking ahead—flinched, turned to me, and shot a prickly glare.
"...Only now you call my name... What?"
"Nah, just hit me—your name's as orange as you are."
"Hmph... You gotta tease people, huh."
She huffed that snarky line, but her steps slowed before I knew it. She started glancing around the mansion like she was inspecting it, all while keeping me in her sights. It was so out of character for her usual self that even as she eyed me, she tilted her head like why am I doing this?—adorably clueless.
'Before, she probably just pegged me as the employer's hot son with killer connections. But now? Heh heh.'
Like I said, someone as strong as her—even in a world that downplays individual power—would draw interest from security firms, combat units, military outfits craving top-tier muscle. To Linda, who'd brushed off a guy like me with nothing but looks and background, this sudden fondness probably felt less like confusion and more like chills down her spine, right?
'Wonder what flavor these dog-eyed enhanced humans will bring...'
Savoring that fun future, I followed her down the stairs.
"Awake, young master?"
As we descended to the first-floor hall, an elderly man with a kindly smile—the very picture of a butler—bowed slightly to me. He was directing the other maids like Linda and the house staff.
'Oh? Gramps here's enhanced too? Looser than Linda thanks to age, but power's about even...?'
Commanding the servants, weathered by years yet eyes gleaming with a deep warrior's spark, exuding natural confidence of the strong—I smirked and spoke.
"Morning, Clinton. Where's the old man?"
"...The admiral has a lunch with the sector 46 overseer, so he's out."
"Got it. Guess I'll chat with him at dinner then."
From the moment I greeted him, quick glances flicked between Clinton and Linda. No matter their dog eyes or cyborg mods, they were still just first-rate scrubs. Rolling their peepers like caterpillars trying to scheme—pathetic.
'Bet it's crap like "Is the kid sane? Something's off. Nah, checked with dog eyes already." Heh.'
After the eye-tag with Linda, Clinton snapped back to normal. Her dog eyes must match her skill level—a premium feature. My lips curled up involuntarily.
If I'd seen a core-swap like this firsthand, dog eyes or not, I'd smash first and judge later. But in this SF world, blind faith in machines ruled.
'Means top-notch security and trust... But crack that, and info warfare could topple society...?'
Living in a slower-tech modern era, who knows when we'd get that—but I've got powers they can't dream of, plus mana. The world's polish made my old life feel like shit-scraps, stirring some inferiority... But like bipolar whiplash, my mood spiked, energy surging.
"Sweet! Dad's out, so shopping it is today."
"Not dad—the admiral."
"Same diff if the meaning's right. Anyway, Linda!"
"Yeah?"
"You're coming too—change and get ready!"
"Huh...? For real?!"
Enhanced or not, she's a maid now. Trailing me was cushy compared to others, but once I left, Clinton'd wring her dry with chores. Her face lit up.
"Young master, Linda has mansion duties today..."
"What if someone targets me while you're slacking?"
"...That's why the security team's—"
I fixed Clinton with a cold stare at his bullshit. He faltered, picturing a buff dude like him arm-in-arm with burly guards all chummy—then sighed in defeat.
"Sigh... Linda, join the security team today."
"O-Okay...! I'll change quick!"
Vanishing in a blink—a glimpse of her physical prowess—the marble floor cracked, dust puffing up faintly. I shrugged; a grim grinding sound came from Clinton's clenched teeth.
"Go easy on her, gramps. She's just a tomboy in her prime, itching to hang with friends."
"...That's why I approved."
"Hmph. If approving, send her smooth—no need to drag security into it."
"Well, young master hasn't had enhancements, and your status means da... ngers... so..."
Mid-sentence, he scanned me puzzled, head tilting. Normally he'd clock me as weaker instantly, but my subtle, mana-infused poise threw him.
'Age gap hides my strength from his level, but experience might give him a "hmm, kid's got talent?" vibe?'
Seeing potential in his master's son seemed to warm him; his smile softened, nodding faintly. Looked like soon he'd nudge dad for enhancements or military training—annoying hassles incoming.
'Heh. But that'll only happen if I hole up here... Sorry, mansion life's over.'
What’s the ultimate thrill here? No need to ponder—this world let you roam the stars, stuff I'd only read in fiction. Thanks to Park Jisu, I grasped the big plot beats, so sniffing the next event's scent, I smiled back at grinning Clinton and waited for Linda.