How to ruin the original

Episode 4

“The voice I distinctly heard.

Sure enough, as Nigel slowly turned his head, the strange guy who had just referred to himself as a lady appeared.

Meeting Nigel’s eyes, he approached with narrowed eyes.

Somehow, whenever he looked at him, it felt uncomfortably familiar.

It seemed like some around recognized him, as a few people were whispering and covering their mouths.

“……He doesn’t seem like that on the surface.”

“……Maybe he’s ambitious.”

Unpleasant words easily entered his ears.

Just then, Allen, panting, peeked his head out of the train.

“Uh…? That guy…!”

Seeing Allen recognize him immediately, it seemed that he was somewhat known in the area.

It would be better not to get involved.

“……Allen, is something urgent right now?!”

Nigel suddenly raised his head to look at Allen.

“Uh! Sebastian is calling! It’s urgent, so come quickly!!”

Allen quickly responded to Nigel’s words without any signs of confusion.

Nigel frowned at him, giving him a face of discomfort, then quickly boarded the train.

Tap.

Nigel tapped Allen’s shoulder.

“Thanks for playing along.”

“Oh, we’re friends, of course!”

Allen smiled brightly.

“By the way, are you acquainted with that guy? How much do you dislike him to run away immediately?”

“No. I just have a bad feeling.”

Nigel shrugged.

“Well… feelings are important.”

Allen shrugged.

“I wanted to be friends with you because I liked your feeling!”

“…Really?”

“Yeah! That’s right. I have such a keen sense!”

Although Allen kept sticking around, Nigel didn’t feel too annoyed.

Was it because of his gentle and innocent demeanor resembling orphanage children?

“Okay. Let’s go back to my seat now. Oh, you said you would carry the luggage, right?”

“….”

With a slightly stiff expression, Allen picked up the bag he had set down.

“Phew… Finally, arrived…!”

Allen put down the luggage inside the cabin.

‘Good.’

Nigel glanced over the second-class cabin roughly.

Unlike the third-class cabin where four people stayed in one room, this cabin was used by just two people.

During meals, they provided decent food, and the spacious chairs attached to the cabin walls turned into beds at night.

“…Second class seems tough.”

…This guy.

Nigel’s train ticket in his pocket got crumpled again.

“If it’s uncomfortable, you can go to your seat, right?”

Leaning against the cabin door with his arms crossed, Nigel said.

“Uh, of course!”

At the same time, a cheerful answer came from behind.

It was a voice that instantly turned Nigel’s dissatisfaction into nothingness.

“Let’s go to my seat, Nigel!”

Allen grinned and pushed Nigel firmly from behind.

“…Right here!”

Allen, who had been mumbling and walking straight ahead, finally stopped his steps.

What was so impressive that it caused this commotion?

Nigel glanced disapprovingly at the thin door.

‘…It’s different.’

He had to admit.

The wooden door had a distinct shine and pattern unlike any other door he had seen before. It was the shine and pattern of money.

“Come in!”

The wooden door opened smoothly without a creak.

“…!”

As Nigel peeked inside, his eyes widened at the sight.

The first thing that caught his eye was the gorgeous crystal chandelier and the cream-colored curtains below, sparkling under the light. Upon closer inspection, beautiful patterns intricately carved in gold thread adorned the curtains.

Everything from the warm-toned leather sofa that seemed to offer a welcoming touch to the finely crafted wooden table in front of it, the luxurious mahogany cabinet displaying various wines and glasses, and the shelves full of rare books—all of it seemed to exude an air of opulence.

It was evident that this cabin was lavishly furnished, to the point of being excessive.

“Nigel? Why are you standing there instead of coming in? Hurry up.”

Allen brought Nigel inside the cabin while sitting comfortably on the leather sofa.

“You too, sit down.”

Allen patted the sofa.

Nigel followed Allen’s lead and sat down on the sofa, and at the same time, the leather enveloped Nigel’s body comfortably.

It felt as if he could fall asleep with his eyes closed, the sensation of drowsiness enveloping him.

‘…This is the taste of money.’

Nigel finally understood why Allen had said those things.

Why would such an excellent chef end up meeting Allen…?

The feeling of pity surged deep within him.

“Would you like something to eat, Nigel? Just name it, I can make anything. Of course, not me, but the chef!”

…Clang.

The words “anything” and “chef” struck a chord in Nigel’s heart.

He discreetly pushed the crumpled train ticket further into the corner of his pocket.

…He decided he would only stay here until lunch. Really.

***

Planning to just have some tea, Nigel found himself completely relaxed on the sofa, legs stretched out on the stool, reading a book in a perfectly comfortable position.

Above him was the thick and soft woolen blanket Allen had provided.

The various desserts Allen had offered were all gone without a trace, with only the colorful crumbs in the plates hinting at their existence.

‘…Is it the environment that shapes people, or is it individual temperament that comes first…? Well, obviously, individual temperament comes before the environment… Wait.’

Nigel blinked, momentarily ceasing reading the book.

As he lifted himself slightly and pulled the curtain aside, he saw that the faint morning sky without a single ray of light had disappeared, and the sunlight was now piercing through.

It was slowly approaching lunchtime.

Struggling to lift the warm woolen blanket, Nigel finally managed to get up.

“Oh, if you find the book boring, shall I lend you one of mine?”

Allen offered the famous detective novel he was reading.

“No, I’m going back to my seat now.”

“What?? Already leaving?”

Allen got up from the sofa.

“We haven’t even played chess or had a proper conversation yet. So soon?”

“Yeah, two hours is quite long enough. I need to go back, unpack my things, and have lunch.”

“Then why not have it here? What’s the problem?”

In Allen’s confident voice, Nigel paused.

“What do you want to eat, Nigel? Just tell me. I can make anything. Of course, not me, but the chef!”

…Flutter.

The words “anything” and “chef” echoed in Nigel’s heart.

Nigel hesitated for a moment but then couldn’t help but ask.

“Who is this chef and why are you so obsessed with befriending me?”