Help, I'm in Another World and All the Men Are Are So Dangerous! [BL]
Chapter 51: Rocco’s Stand

Chapter 51: Rocco’s Stand

Because of that, he failed to notice the change in his own soup until it was too late.

"...!"

Looking down absentmindedly, his gaze suddenly fixed on a shrimp floating in the broth, and his face twisted in disgust.

He had always reacted poorly to shrimp, with severe cases even leading to breathing difficulties.

After one such incident, shrimp had been strictly forbidden from his plate.

Sylas’s father was always vigilant to ensure that shrimp never appeared on his plate.

The chef, too, was well aware of this and typically took great care to avoid any mistakes.

And yet, there it was.

Shrimp in his soup.

Shrimp wasn’t even supposed to be stored in the kitchen pantry, let alone find its way into a dish.

For it to appear in his meal meant that someone had deliberately acquired it and added it to his soup.

Sylas’s gaze shifted, and he sighed as his suspicion was confirmed.

Across the table, his stepmother wore a grotesquely twisted smile of satisfaction.

"Oh my, what’s the matter, Sylas? Your soup will get cold," she remarked, feigning innocence.

Even in her shameless attempts to undermine him, she had found a way to exploit their father’s exhausted indifference.

Her determination to see Sylas fail was unrelenting.

If her actions had been born from genuine affection for his younger brother, Sylas might have been willing to pity her.

However, this was pure selfish ambition, and there was no redemption for that.

No matter. If anything, this makes it easier for me to retaliate without hesitation, he thought coldly.

Sylas decided to bide his time.

He would let her revel in her perceived victory, allow her to overreach, and then retaliate with evidence to ensure she could never recover.

With calculated calm, he lifted a piece of shrimp from the soup and brought it to his lips.

He knew that consuming a small amount wouldn’t kill him, even if it caused discomfort.

f enduring some pain meant ridding the household of this woman, it was a price worth paying.

Just as he opened his mouth to take the bite, a small but firm voice broke the tension.

"That’s unfair, big brother!"

Startled, Sylas froze as his younger brother, Rocco, stood up and pointed at him.

"It’s my favorite shrimp, and you’re keeping it all to yourself!" Rocco declared with a defiant pout.

Sylas’s breath hitched.

The frantic movement of the servants who are trying to remove the shrimp from his plate faded into the background.

All he could focus on was the boy standing before him who are trembling slightly yet meeting his gaze with unwavering determination.

Rocco’s body shook as though he were terrified, but his words and actions betrayed a quiet bravery.

No child would selfishly demand something like this in such an oppressive atmosphere.

Sylas immediately understood: Rocco had spoken out to protect him.

"...Why?" Sylas whispered to himself.

The dinner abruptly ended, brought to a close by their father’s curt command.

Sylas remained on his seat while staring at the door through which Rocco had hurriedly exited.

His voice was barely audible as he muttered, "Why would he do that?"

From Rocco’s perspective, Sylas was nothing more than a cold, unkind brother who treated him poorly.

Yet despite that, the boy had stood up for him.

Sylas replayed the scene in his mind: Rocco trembling like a frightened fawn, yet standing tall in defiance of their stepmother, speaking up to save him.

The boy hadn’t prioritized his mother’s wishes or his own safety.

Instead, he had chosen to shield his estranged half-brother.

He... protected me.

"Young Master, Young Master Rocco has gone to the garden," Philip murmured from behind him.

Sylas, still lost in thought, frowned slightly.

He hadn’t asked, so why was Philip volunteering this information?

Yet, for once, he didn’t argue.

He simply just nodded his head and stood up.

He left the dining hall without a word and heading toward the garden.

As he approached, his steps quickened when he spotted Rocco in the distance, playing near the lake beneath the shade of a tree.

Surrounded by his attendants, the boy appeared carefree, his laughter carrying faintly on the breeze.

Sylas paused as he stood before the shrubbery, watching his younger brother Rocco chatting animatedly in hushed tones with his attendants.

He had initially planned to push his way through the bushes and approach directly, but he stopped himself.

Suddenly showing up without explanation would undoubtedly make him seem suspicious.

Rocco might immediately assume that Sylas had been following him.

Not that he had been—this was purely a coincidence, an accidental encounter.

Still, Sylas wanted to avoid giving Rocco any reason to suspect him.

He decided to feign an air of nonchalance, as though they had simply run into each other by chance.

Taking a steadying breath, he smoothed his hair and composed his expression into the usual mask of indifference.

Pushing the bushes aside, his gaze met Rocco’s wide, gleaming amethyst eyes.

"Oh! B-Brother! What brings you here?" Rocco stammered, his expression a mix of surprise and nervousness as he scrambled to his feet.

Sylas’s eyes flickered to the scene he had interrupted.

Just moments earlier, Rocco had been pinned beneath one of his Beastman attendants in an almost compromising position.

The memory of it stirred a surge of irritation within Sylas.

Why would Rocco come to such a secluded spot? he wondered.

The answer quickly presented itself: Rocco had likely been giving his attendants some sort of "reward."

Sylas’s gaze lingered on Rocco’s slight frame.

His younger brother had a delicate, almost fragile appearance that seemed completely at odds with the idea of controlling a Beastman.

It was hard to imagine someone so weak wielding the authority to tame such creatures.

And yet, Rocco had managed to gather even the infamous "Georgio the Hyena"—a figure who had once terrorized the kingdom—as part of his retinue.

Sylas had long suspected that Rocco must possess some hidden weapon or leverage to maintain such power.

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