The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

Observing her young master leave, the maid breathed a sigh of relief. Her grip loosened, and she relaxed her expression. Cautiously, she followed him from behind, maintaining a respectful distance.

Upon reaching his father's room, the maid recognized the familiar voice she had heard before when she entered her young master's room.

*knock* *knock*

"Father, I'm here." The plump boy's displeasure at being interrupted by his father's summons was evident on his face. He wanted his father to experience the same annoyance, hence the purposefully louder knocking on the door.

*knock* "Ah" *knock* "Ah" *knock*

"Enough with the noise!" A frustrated voice emanated from inside the room, causing the maid to tremble once again. She instinctively took a step back from her young master, who wore a mischievous grin.

"Hehe." Hearing his father's reaction, which indicated he had finished his activities and was approaching the door, the plump boy also stepped away from it.

*bam*

As expected, the door flew open towards the plump boy. However, he had anticipated this and had already begun chanting a spell.

"Earth Shield."

The wooden floor beneath them shattered, and a portion of the soil beneath it surged into the plump boy's hand, forming a protective mound.

Simultaneously, the force of the door pushed back the plump boy, who was already shielded by the earthen barrier. Despite it all, he maintained a mocking smile and peeked through his makeshift shield.

"Haha, so why did you summon me, father?"

He discarded the door and dispelled his spell, causing the gathered earth to return to its original place.

Meanwhile, the maid who had accompanied her young master froze in place, sitting upright on the floor, trembling with fear.

Emerging from the room, a middle-aged man approached. His appearance remained somewhat obscured by the dust stirred up from his forceful kick against the door.

In the reflection of his father, the plump boy lowered his head and greeted him respectfully, "Father."

The maid, still frozen in fear, was taken aback. Contrary to her expectations, her young master displayed utmost politeness in front of his father, despite his earlier actions.

She was a new maid in the grand house, her first day of service, and she had yet to grasp the temperaments of her masters. Until today, their faces remained a mystery to her.

"Good, at least you still possess some sense of propriety," the swirling dust in the air settled, unveiling a middle-aged man who exuded a youthful handsomeness.

In contrast to his son, this man possessed shoulder-length brown hair that was meticulously styled, a feature that effortlessly captured the attention of onlookers. His physique, barely concealed beneath his nightgown, hinted at the underlying strength of his muscles. If outsiders were to witness this pair of father and son, they might mistakenly assume the portly boy was an adopted child.

"Tch!" The chubby boy couldn't help but snort in envy upon beholding his father's appearance.

"Kid, it's about time you curbed your voracious appetite. Just look at those rolls clinging to your plump frame," he remarked while subtly covering his nose.

Feeling humiliated, the overweight boy shot a resentful glare at his father and defiantly jutted out his protruding belly.

Observing his son's reaction, the father shook his head in disappointment.

"What did you wish to discuss, father?" The stout boy rose to his feet, bringing them eye to eye.

Raising his hand and making a beckoning gesture, a maid emerged from his father's chamber and promptly departed, while the maid who had been sprawled on the floor, oblivious to the secret code, was whisked away by another maid.

"Come, let's continue the conversation inside," he said, entering his chamber and adjusting his attire.

The rotund boy followed his father, intending to mock the disorderly state of his room, assuming it would be in disarray due to his father's recent activities. However, the scene that greeted him defied his expectations. The room was impeccably tidy and well-organized, with a central fireplace adorning one wall and ancestral paintings hanging in reverence.

Surprised, the boy squinted his eyes, scanning the room in search of any evidence that would match his imagination, perhaps a discarded piece of women's undergarments. Yet, to his dismay, there was none to be found.

Amused by his son's behavior, his father chuckled. "Don't waste your time, son. You have much to learn from the experts." His laughter grew louder as he settled into a chair at a small table, awaiting his son's presence.

Frustrated by his fruitless search, the corpulent boy's expression darkened. He begrudgingly took a seat opposite his father, fixing him with an intense glare.

"See? Let's get straight to the point," he said abruptly, his smile vanishing from his face. His eyes grew serious as he clasped his hands together on the table, sitting up straight and fixing his gaze on his son.

"I want you to enroll in the academy and secure a position in the royal army," he stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation, as if issuing an order.

He continued, "Since we are no longer affluent aristocrats like we once were, we need to secure other assets as collateral." He paused, allowing the weight of his words to hang in the tense atmosphere of the room.

Meanwhile, the stout boy felt the gravity of the situation wash over him. Beads of sweat formed on his brow, and his forehead creased with visible concern. He hesitated, "This..." his voice trailed off, and he stole a glance at his father, quickly realizing it would be ill-advised to voice his reservations.

His father's gaze turned sinister, sending a shiver down his spine, causing him to clamp his mouth shut. "Yes, father," he forced out, a bitter smile tugging at his lips as he reluctantly accepted his father's demand.

Upon hearing his son's response, his father's glare intensified, making him stiffen even more. He repeated his words aloud, "Yes, father!"

Observing this, his father's expression softened into a satisfied smile, and the tense atmosphere dissipated. "Good. I knew I could rely on you," he said, his words offering a semblance of reassurance.

Though the portly boy maintained a smile on the surface, internally he cursed his luck repeatedly. He cast a complex look at his father before mustering the courage to make a request. "Father, I want-"

Before he could finish, his father abruptly cut him off, tossing a bottle in his direction. "Catch this," he commanded.

Startled, the boy reacted quickly, his reflexes honed by incantations, and managed to catch the bottle just in time.

"What is this?" he inquired, grateful that he had been on guard, chanting protective spells.

"Drink it. It will rapidly increase your strength without the need for arduous training," his father replied casually. "And besides, it will allow you to indulge yourself once more."