Help, I'm in Another World and All the Men Are Are So Dangerous! [BL]
Chapter 80: Fluffy Negotiations

Chapter 80: Fluffy Negotiations

If he looked into a mirror now, he was sure that his amethyst eyes burning with revenge would appear hideously distorted.

Laxus Del Fiore.

The bastard who had corrupted his beloved brother.

The harmful menace that must be eliminated.

That bastard—he would definitely deal with him with his own hands.

...

"What’s Going On Here?"

Suddenly, Rocco found himself in one of the main house’s rooms, which is now serving as his temporary quarters while munching on his lunch.

Instead of the burly and muscular attendants from the annex, the slender and proper-looking servants are the ones who clean the room and bring in meals for him.

Rocco could only watch them nervously with cold sweat trickling down from his back.

In front of him, on a pristine white plate, sat an unfamiliar, bite-sized dish that looked more like art than food.

He couldn’t help but think, Is this what they call Michelin-star cuisine?

With trepidation, he carefully nibbled at the elaborate meal, all the while enduring the rigid and formal atmosphere.

It was so different from the relaxed air of his annex.

"...Um, excuse me..."

After finishing the tiny meal that barely filled his stomach, Rocco hesitantly addressed one of the servants who had started clearing the dishes with mechanical precision.

Although he found their doll-like lack of humanity unnerving, he mustered the courage to ask the question that had been bothering him all along.

"Yes?"

"A-ah, um, when... when can I return to my annex?"

The servant’s curt and emotionless response almost made Rocco flinch, but he managed to stammer his question, his eyes glistening with unease as he awaited an answer.

"Once the master grants permission," the servant replied in the same indifferent tone, looking down at the trembling Rocco.

"O-oh, I see... okay, got it..."

Rocco couldn’t help but feel the urge to retort, but he bit back the words.

Forcing a sheepish smile, he nodded his head instead.

After all, he was a super cool big brother, and losing his temper wouldn’t be fitting.

He decided to handle the situation like an adult.

As the servant left the room with the dishes, Rocco kept up his awkward grin, waving them off.

However, the moment the door closed, he let out a heavy sigh.

"...Haaa..."

It was obvious to Rocco that he’d be stuck here until the master of the house—his father—granted him permission to leave.

After all, his father was the head of the main house, and it was likely his orders that had led to Rocco being, well, confined—no, brought—to the main house in the first place.

He understood that much.

But what he really wanted to know was when his father might give that permission.

"Laxus... I wonder if he’s okay. And Ragar, and Georgio too... I’m worried about them," he muttered softly, his legs swinging back and forth as he sat on an overly luxurious and uncomfortable sofa.

His thoughts wandered to his loved ones, his family, as he let out a sigh.

How had he ended up in the main house in the first place?

He vaguely remembered being caught by his father and blacking out.

After that... he’d woken up once, maybe.

Had he seen Sylas?

No... had he?

The events had been so chaotic that his memory was a little hazy.

One thing was clear: he’d trespassed onto the grounds of the main house, angered his father, and was now confined here.

That much, Rocco was sure of.

Confined?

No, imprisoned might be a better word.

Either way, this situation meant he wasn’t allowed to see Ragar or Georgio, his closest companions.

That was probably to be expected, but it didn’t stop him from worrying about them.

But more than anything, he was worried about Laxus.

Had Laxus managed to escape safely?

It had been a disaster—Laxus nearly killed by Sylas and everything—but Rocco really hoped he’d gotten away.

They’d only just met, and now it seemed like he’d already lost Laxus.

How unfair was that?

Losing someone important in just a few days felt cruel.

The area around the Di Malvento family’s territory was crawling with dangerous mafia gangs.

If Laxus ran into any shady characters while escaping, it could be disastrous.

Once Rocco got out of this confinement, the first thing he’d have to do was search for Laxus.

But for now, there was no escaping this situation that reeked of impending doom.

How was he supposed to get out of here?

As he wiped the cold sweat from his brow, a sudden knock on the door startled him so badly that he jumped in surprise.

"Pyaa!!"

A strange squeak escaped his lips before he hurriedly clamped a hand over his mouth.

Slowly, cautiously, he turned his gaze toward the door.

In a timid voice, Rocco stammered, "P-please... c-come in...!"

His words were clumsy, and from the other side of the door, he heard a muffled groan, almost as if someone had been struck.

His brow furrowing in confusion, Rocco nervously wondered what had happened.

"—I understand finding him adorable, but please compose yourself," came a hushed voice.

"—...I was just caught off guard, that’s all," replied another voice, sounding equally subdued.

Rocco could barely make out the whispered exchange just beyond the door.

He strained his ears and realized who it was.

That voice... it had to be his father, and accompanying him, the cunning man with the glasses.

As soon as Rocco put the pieces together, his spine went ramrod straight, and he scrambled to sit upright on the sofa, trembling.

If he wanted even the faintest chance of survival, he had to be as polite and respectful as possible.

The door creaked open, and in walked exactly the guests Rocco had dreaded.

His father, exuding the overwhelming authority and presence befitting the head of the mafia, entered the room.

Rocco swallowed hard and quickly stood, forcing himself into a deep bow.

"W-welcome, F-father! Th-thank you for c-coming so q-quickly!" he stammered.

In his anxiety, Rocco had meant to say, "Thank you for coming," but what came out instead was a garbled, overly formal, and utterly wrong phrase.