Trash of the Count's Family – Chapter 1 – Prologue
When I opened my eyes, I was inside a novel.
[The Birth of a Hero].
[The Birth of a Hero] was a novel focused on the adventures of the main character, Choi Han, a high school boy who was transported to a different dimension from Earth, along with the birth of the numerous heroes of the continent.
I became a part of that novel as the trash of the Count's family, the family that oversaw the territory where the first village that Choi Han visits is located.
The problem is that Choi Han becomes twisted after that village, and everyone in it, are destroyed by assassins.
The bigger problem is the fact that this stupid trash who I've become doesn't know about what happened in the village and messes with Choi Han, only to get beaten to a pulp.
"...This is going to be a problem."
I feel like something serious has happened to me.
But it was worth trying to make this my new life.
Trash of the Count's Family – Chapter 2 – When I Opened My Eyes (1)
The man could feel someone gently tapping his body. The rough hand made the man think of the hands of an exhausted parent. It was that warm.
"Young master, it is morning."
But the voice was very profound. The man felt chills throughout his body and his eyes subconsciously opened. Rather than the bright sunlight coming in through the window to warm the man's eyes, what he saw was an old man standing there with a satisfied expression.
"It is surprising to see you wake up after a single attempt."
"Huh?"
"The master wishes to dine with the young master since it has been a while. It looks like it will be possible today."
The man could see a mirror past the old man's shoulder. Inside the mirror was a red-haired man who seemed to be confused looking back at him.
'I guess that guy is me.'
"Young master Cale?"
The man turned toward the source of the worried voice to find the old man, who looked like a servant, looking toward him. But that concerned man was not the problem.
The man clearly heard it.
Young Master Cale. It was a familiar name. He slowly blurted out the name.
"Cale Henituse?"
The old servant was looking at him like he was looking at his own grandson.
"Yes. That is your name, young master. I'm guessing you are still a bit drunk."
Listening to the concerned response of the old man, the man naturally thought about a name that was even more important than the name Cale Henituse.
"...Beacrox."
"Are you talking about my son?"
"...Chef."
"Yes. My son is the chef. Do you need him to make something for your hangover?"
The man felt his surroundings turn dark and he started to feel dizzy. He lowered his head and put it into his hand.
"Young master, are you still drunk? Should I call the doctor? Or will you wash right now?"
The man looked at the red hair that was falling in front of his face. It was a bright red color, much too different from his original black hair.
Cale Henituse. Beacrox. Beacrox's dad, Ron.
