The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

As Desmond arrived in the area, his senses gradually returned to him. He cast his eyes around and was taken aback to see that their carriage had already passed through the massive gate at the entrance.

"Is this truly my home?" Desmond's voice echoed with disbelief as he gazed upon the vast expanse of land before him. The sight was nothing short of awe-inspiring. In comparison to his humble abode in the capital city, it was like comparing a mere cottage to a grand castle.

"Yes," the old man replied promptly, a sense of pride flickering in his eyes as he beheld the expression on his young master's face.

Yet, this fleeting moment of astonishment quickly dissipated from Desmond's eyes. While most would remain stunned and captivated by such a sight, he had grown accustomed to such grandeur. After all, he, too, had once been a young master.

Finally, as the carriage arrived at the courtyard, a procession of maids emerged from the castle behind, forming neat rows that stood side by side. The old man opened the carriage door, revealing the maids, heads bowed in deference. Beyond them lay the majestic sight of the castle, adorned with a small fountain placed at the center of the road, creating a captivating crossroads.

The path, paved with pristine white bricks, exuded an air of purity and cleanliness. It was a testament to the tireless efforts of the maids who diligently cleaned it every day.

Desmond, however, seemed unimpressed by the spectacle before him. His gaze fixed upon the maids, he muttered to himself, "Just ordinary people," sensing no ripple of energy or aura emanating from their beings.

Turning his attention, Desmond observed the guards who had accompanied him throughout the journey. Clad in spotless white medium armor, they were swordsmen of formidable skill. Unlike those who concealed their faces behind full-face helmets, these guards wore headpieces that exposed their age and countenance to Desmond's discerning eyes.

"Well, young master, how do you find it?" The old man's eyes keenly studied Desmond's reactions. His master had not returned to this city since they had departed for the capital, only sending him money and instructions to purchase a house and hire maids.

The arrival of his master's children had stirred within the old man a desire for praise. Though the young lady had already commended him, a woman's approval was easily won, unlike that of men. To receive praise from another man was akin to finding a precious treasure.

Desmond busied himself with a meticulous inspection of his subordinates, casting a glance toward the old man. He then surveyed the scene behind him, nodding with a hint of satisfaction. "Not bad."

Before the old man could utter a word, Desmond interrupted, his tone solemn. "Let us proceed inside and discuss our future plans." In that moment, he emanated an air of authority, resembling a small leader within the old man's household.

Unlike the other young masters the old man had encountered, Desmond appeared to be a departure from the norm. Instead of indulging in the luxuries and privileges bestowed upon him, he immediately delved into matters of importance.

Filled with admiration, the old man sincerely replied, "Yes, young master," bowing before issuing commands for the other subordinates to disperse. Desmond made his way toward the castle, accompanied by the procession of maids.

Not a single one of the newly appointed maids dared to approach Desmond, their resolve faltering as they caught sight of his personal attendants. The immense pressure emanating from the two maids made their faces twitch, causing them to involuntarily take a few steps back.

Meanwhile, inside one of the taverns in the bustling Market District, the atmosphere seemed subdued. It was still early in the morning, and the tavern appeared sparsely populated. Nevertheless, a few patrons could be seen savoring their breakfast or indulging in their morning libations.

*ring*

The faint chime of a bell echoed through the tavern, signaling the arrival of a new guest. A nearby server hastened to greet the newcomer, eager to attend to their needs.

"Welcome, sir. May I inquire as to your order?" The server, a woman in her thirties, possessed an unremarkable yet graceful appearance that seemed to capture the attention of onlookers, leaving them mesmerized whenever she approached to offer her services.

However, the new customer merely cast a fleeting glance at her before slightly lowering the mask that concealed his mouth. "I shall have a dark noble with a hint of roasted pigeon on top," he stated in a measured tone.

Respectfully, the server inclined her head toward the customer. "Please, follow me," she replied courteously, guiding him towards the back entrance.

As other customers observed this exchange, their brows furrowed in confusion. A dark noble? Adorned with pigeon? What on earth could that be?

...

Once the new customer had discarded the attire that concealed his face, a young man in his twenties stood revealed. His gaze scanned the surroundings and settled upon a lengthy corridor illuminated by flickering candlelight. His view was limited, yet he discerned a narrow space awaiting him at the end.

Advancing along the corridor, he found himself standing atop a platform that appeared to be in motion, descending towards the ground. Serenely, he awaited its descent without a hint of panic.

When the platform finally came to a halt, a heavily guarded door loomed before him. Two brawny sentinels stood watch, their eyes fixed upon him, particularly on his hand.

Approaching the door with deliberate steps, the young man encountered a cold command from the guards. "State your purpose," they demanded, their gaze unwavering as they scrutinized his every move.

Raising his hand, the young man responded, "I bear important news regarding the target."

Instantly, the two guards closed in, conducting a thorough search of his person. Their invasive actions extended shamelessly to touching his buttocks and private areas. Eventually, they stepped back, nodding in approval.

"You may proceed," their expressions held a peculiar delight, as if they had obtained something of value. Meanwhile, the young man hurriedly entered the room, his brows furrowing in frustration.

Those audacious scoundrels never change! he inwardly cursed, a shiver running down his spine. However, his demeanor swiftly transformed to one of utmost respect as a powerful pressure weighed down upon him.

"Speak," commanded a middle-aged man seated opposite the young man. A bevy of beauties surrounded him, their presence seemingly inconsequential as he casually caressed their breasts and buttocks, his lips engaged in a leisurely exploration of one of the women's mouths.