Studying Women
Let's rewind the clock a little.
Victor had been fully intent on using his status to indulge his lusts from the start.
Unaware of this, the movements of those around him shattered the faint lingering doubts he still harbored.
The story flashes back a bit.
About a month before my debut battle—the conquest of the Halzy Archipelago.
Even before that, I'd sensed some kind of stirrings around me.
It came from the maids—my exclusive female servants in the castle.
They'd been increased in number, and all of them were young, stunning beauties.
They came in all looks: some were straight-up beautiful girls, others had model-like figures, and there were even a few with bombshell curves like gravure idols that would've been jerk-off material for tons of guys in my previous life.
Were they researching my tastes in women? If so, what a pointless effort.
Back in my previous life, I'd always struggled when asked about my type.
Whenever I'd name a few favorite actresses or celebrities, people would say, "Hard to read your preferences."
Of course—I'd lived forty years; I knew my own tastes better than anyone.
This is just my take as a guy who'd spent forty years as a man in my previous life,
but women are creatures whose mental state and mindset reflect extremely clearly in their appearance, don't you think?
Back in middle school, there was this classmate I'd never really noticed before, and suddenly she turned sultry.
When I chatted about it with my buddies, one said, "Heard she got a boyfriend recently."
It wasn't just me; the others noticed too, so it must've been a real change.
What I'm getting at is this: my taste in women hinges on that mindset—the kind that shines through in their looks.
No matter how gorgeous she is, if she's got a sullen, bitchy vibe leaking into her appearance even a little,
my dick won't twitch.
Explaining this is tricky, but maids cost money to hire, after all.
If they were researching my preferences, maybe I should give some evaluation criteria.
So one day, I called Walzars—my butler and head servant— to my private chambers.
"You called for me, young master?"
"Yeah, Walzars. Got something I wanna ask."
"What might that be, sir?"
Walzars was your classic slim, soft-spoken elderly gentleman,
but he hailed from a branch of a prestigious knightly house. In his youth, he'd rampaged across battlefields as a cavalryman, racking up feats of valor.
Hard to picture from his current refined look, though.
"Lately, my exclusive maids have been getting reinforcements. Is there some intent behind it?"
Walzars's eyes narrowed slightly. There it is—the one telltale sign lending credence to those battlefield tales of his.
A faint killer instinct in his gaze whenever I sniffed out some scheme he wanted hidden. Yup, something's definitely up.
"Were they displeasing to you?"
"Nah, more young beauties is always welcome."
"It seems you've caught on to our intentions."
"We're close enough—I'll cut to the chase. Can I make a move on them?"
"By all means. The recent additions are all aware they might become your young master's consorts."
"Hoh."
"And the non-exclusives?"
"Do you have a favorite among the non-exclusive maids?"
"Not yet. I was thinking it's about time to start with the maids, but the lines are blurry."
"I see. That's what this is about."
Walzars seemed to grasp my point. No doubt about it—the man was competent.
"Exclusives are yours to do with as you please. Non-exclusives are rare to approach that way,
but if there's resistance, it'd help if you consulted me beforehand.
For any other exclusives not yours, please consult as well."
"What about the maids at my lower mansion?"
"No issue there. For common citizens otherwise, we'll prepare hush money."
"Knight houses or warriors' families?"
"No problem. They'd likely be thrilled."
"Married women?"
Walzars looked a touch surprised at that,
but answered steadily: "For knights' or warriors' wives, most would see it as an honor. Citizens' wives, we'd settle with money."
"Got it."
"Young master, you must consider marriage eventually. The master has ordered that you be taught the ways of women."
"Lessons in women, huh."
Well, I got their angle.
For an earldom to endure, they needed bloodline succession and magic inheritance.
Upper magic users only came from sex between upper magic users.
This held true even in my previous life: outliers in one field often lagged massively elsewhere.
I was the exception, but in this world, upper magic men traded reproductive drive and libido for their power.
Hence the push to teach me the pleasures of women early.
Of course, Walzars didn't know I'd lived forty man-years before, with decent experience under my belt.
Plus, this world's erotic content didn't hold a candle to my old life's abundance—not even to its toenails, let alone its boogers.
"Lessons in women" at this point? Whatever.
But with the family head's blessing to bang away, I'd milk it for all it was worth.
"One thing, though, Walzars."
"Yes, young master?"
"Looks alone won't cut it for me."
"What do you mean?"
He leaned in eagerly.
"First off, affection toward me—or loyalty, call it what you will.
And they gotta be hardworking. Remember how we set those maid uniform standards?"
"Yes, vividly."
"Add some charm to that, and looks barely matter. That's my type."
"Rest assured, young master. We've screened the new hires on exactly those points."
"Nice—that explains the caliber. Well played, Walzars."
"Your praise is my greatest honor."
Yup, Walzars was the real deal.
He'd be a huge help in my new-life fuckboy era.
With the earl—his father—greenlighting his lechery,
what this would bring to the world remained known only to the gods.
The continent's history turned another page (lol).