Resurrection of Duke Werstein ~ I Didn't Hear Anything About Being A Middle-aged Man ~

"So what do you got?"

Low, crude voice echoes the water heating room.

It's a place that hasn't been used for a while, so I thought the dust was on it, and it's as if the time had stopped that day.

Now the hot water room once used by the late Duchess of Verstein, Julia's dedicated maid.

So he turns his gaze on the familiar voice for the butler to the place where the water is boiling, without concealing his depressing feelings.

"Ernest...... What is it? Suddenly, you know this place well"

"If that's all the magic moves, you know there's a boy there.

Well, it's about you, so there's no way I'm not going to Boy's.

Then you're finally discussing it, aren't you?

Then you can report the results to me. "

"............ now, leave me alone"

In that kitchen, which can be used as long as there are demonic stones, pots of metal with water are placed on the stove, making a small noise with the cottonseed in the process of being heated.

Well equipped enough to make snacks. So he turned his gaze back to the pot.

Ernesto cleverly raises a single eyebrow and is surprised (a lot) by his old familiar appearance.

"... what happened?

"Shut up, there's still so much I don't know!

Whether irritated or confused, the deacon's firmly gripped fist slammed the wall with a face he couldn't afford!, and a loud noise echoed around.

Fists wielded as emotions seep so red around the palms that even though they wear gloves they can tell.

His palms, which specialize in speed, endurance, dexterity, etc. over muscle strength, are not as soft as yours, but they are softer than warriors.

Injury in recoil knocked while squeezing hard.

If this is the case, the area hit by the wall will also be scratched.

To such a daughter-in-law, Ernest spoke with a calm voice.

"... calm down, you're changing your tone."

"............ sorry"

The figure of a deacon who leans down and speaks words of apology is completely different from his usual appearance.

Ernest leaned against the nearby wall with his arms around him after exhaling, ha, to his self-confident offering that even seemed like someone else.

The steam, which informs you that the pot of water has turned into hot water, makes a high noise around.

Noticed it, the butler served tea leaves out of the cupboard while stopping the demon stone with a handsome hand, and returned it.

This place has not deteriorated at all since the time it was frozen. Moreover, it has felt a vague unnaturalness, like discord, which is difficult to say, but it is a late act.

He removed the folded paper from the inner pocket of his swallow tail suit.

If you open it to roll, the tea leaves in the cloth bag appear.

I put it in a pot and put it in a cloth bag.

Chapon, the little noise sounds disgusting.

"So what did you find out?"

Ernesto spoke again to the butler who took the pocket watch out of his pocket and confirmed the extraction time.

He opened his mouth quietly without roughing up his voice or being overwhelmed by his usual actions.

"I don't know, I see."

"What the hell?"

Shoulder to shoulder, to Ernest's response with a strange voice, the butler returns the words, keeping his eyes out of the clock.

"It means as it is.

That one is our husband and... not our husband "

"What the hell is that?"

"My soul is someone else."

Although he was a butler, his pale response, which should have raised him not to put his emotions on the table, seemed calm and slightly confused.

"............ so that's why you're not a boy.

Then why are you a boy? "

He said, "I have a memory."

"Memory?"

"As my husband until now, I remember living as Augusto Verstein"

So just when the time had come, Alfredo took the little thong that was provided and removed the cloth bag with tea leaves from the pot.

Throw it in the trash and close the pot lid.

I have a lot more to do to make a delicious cup of tea, but I don't seem to be able to afford it right now.

"Ha ha, I see.

Well, you're definitely a boy, not a boy. "

Place your palms on your chin and rub gently.

It's Ernest's habit when you think about it.

There's no clapping, either, but mentioning them here doesn't keep the conversation going.

It is a response from such judgment.

"It seemed to me that I was burdened by the fact that his soul was not his husband."

Remove the porcelain teapot from the cupboard without any dust.

Alfredo answered quietly as he took the lid and poured the candied tea out of the metal pot.

The sounds of birds heard from somewhere and the bewildering words of the dairy brothers are a terrible gap between the long idleness outside.

Ernesto nodded to affirm, after exhaling one.

"Well, I guess so, I can't help thinking you're cheating on us."

"Yes, so I told you that if you remember, you're my husband."

What Ernesto felt in Alfredo's words, solemnly proclaimed, was a headache.

"......... I have something to say, but not now,...... so?

"...... then my husband got pale as soon as he could and looked at something horrible, such eyes"

From bewilderment, or to Alfredo, who looked at him like a lost child, Ernest sighed a loud sigh today, arguably the biggest.

"...... you, that's right"

"Why, what have I done?"

Ernest, who is proud to be a colleague, a dairy brother, and a childhood brethren and a brother to all, is so satirical to the human machine that he does not fit the figure.

Therefore, the deacon and Alfredo, who grew up like brothers, were as important as their lovely brother.

The baking disciple in the most care is the Lord, Augusto, but let's put that aside at this time.

First of all, the disciple in front of you, you have to make corrections.

Inhaling his exhaled breath, Ernest snorts Alfredo.

"You know, you've been a boy supremacist for a long time, but how many times do you have to be a little more flexible? Me."

"What is it, Ernest, what shouldn't it be"

It's strange because Alfredo, who stares at Ernesto with such an annoying look, like some obstinate child, somehow looks only a little younger than his real age.

Ernesto continues his words, breathing in the air that had left his lungs by speaking.

"It's not bad, nothing's bad.

But the way you put it, you're not a boy. You're going to deny the whole thing. "

"hey......!?"

Startled to open his eyes and to the appearance of his stiff daughter-in-law, Ernest suffered the illusion that his headache had worsened.

But being a butler who would soon get ready for tea set there, he just seemed to be running away from reality no matter what he saw.

"... including all of them. I guess he's a kid now.

You're not happy about anything, even if you're justified and affirmed by a boy who lives now with another soul, you're scared of someone who's going to deny it all like one or another breathes, are you stupid?

I don't know what I'm doing.

"That was a reasonably extra favor.

That's why I've been telling you, think more ad hoc and flexible.

I think you've said it so many times that it's hard to count, huh? Are your ears decorative?

Whether you're upset about Ernesto's novels or serving ceramic cups or something out of the cupboard, put back the wrong number of minutes and put them on a cart placed in the corner of the water heating room.

Apparently he finally calmed down after all that motion, he exhaled in a small way, Phew, and then opened his mouth.

"............ Ernesto, why are you not confused, sir, that foreign objects are mixed up"

Confusion, suspicion, and then grief.

Little by little, it starches and builds up in the back of my chest so that I can boil it in a pan, and the deacons' unmistakable and hasty expression caught a thin glimpse.

Ernesto sighed loudly at him again.

Alfredo's appearance had become a complete opposite teacher for Ernesto, who was in that state, which made him strangely calm when someone was in a hurry in front of him.

"If that foreign object has a negative impact on the boy, then we'll have to do something about it."

"What do you mean?"

"On the contrary, I ask you, what do you think will happen if you lose that soul that you have determined to be foreign?"

Ultimately, it was a serious question.

"That, I'm sure, is the soul of my former husband"

"Mr. Alfredo, have you forgotten that you have learned to construct people in flesh, memory, and soul?

"I remember, of course"

Ernesto sighed several times today at a disciple who said it was nothing but had no eye for the seriousness of the matter.

"Then how do you know that losing your soul means dying again?"

"...... Huh!!

Are you nuts? and inquiring even with his gaze, Alfredo shows visible and depressed.

More and more, Ernesto, unable to stand the indescribable air, asked to be sure.

"That soul became someone else, when it was reborn in time, wasn't it?

"......... yes, it should be,"

Augusto, his own daughter-in-law and lord, had heard from him during his last visit that he had become a wise man.

With that information, I can get to that answer only by predicting it later.

We haven't been able to operate a whole thrown territory for 12 years without any major problems.

Because he is the fastest of the dairy brothers to admit otherwise.

Alfredo, who answers weakly, is so unlikely as usual.

As he can see, Ernest returns a question that can also be called a hint.

"... to rebirth, it was conditional on Kamisama liking it, was it?

The face that was leaning to the point where you could see the swirling hair (tweezers) rose in momentum.

At the same time, Alfredo let his lips go to war.

"No way...... God deliberately gave his husband another soul......!?"

"Eighty-nine, you bet.

You're too weak to live as a sage. "

I can't tell you how wrong the answer is.

"Oh, can that happen?"

"There's no reason why it should be.

But in other words, the other person is also a victim of God's favorite presence, finally involved in words. "

The small, shoulder-trembling butler was making his expression stronger due to his guilt and anger.

Ernest, on the other hand, says the word again as his fist squeezes so tightly here too.

"Aren't you much more confused than we are? What do you call foreign bodies?"

Alfredo knew his sins and felt great regret several times in his life.

...... In fact, neither Augusto nor Proton, the soul thrown into its flesh, was chosen by God.

But they don't know that. They don't know that.

Therefore, they will not notice it in the future.

Because there is no reason for God to bother explaining it, or for Protons to be cordial and polite in explaining it.

I did it.

My facial expressions rarely reacted to my emotions when I was sorting out my memories while the butler was gone.

I turned my attractive, fearful face to the butler who, more importantly, should have to be trusted the most.

Mr. Augusto's memory was too clear and it plays in his head as if he were recording, so I noticed Mr. Augusto's face reflected in the butler's eyes, even though it was showing.

It's like, even if it's haunting, it's a terrible look, Mr. Augusto's face.

No, I think it's a lot too bad to look like that, but if you're scratching, I won't care about that anymore.

I want to blame myself for the immaturity of the act, but more than that, it's a matter of what I've done.

It may have caused him to have mistrust about me.

I may not know on the outside, but I was in a hurry.

Well, that was already, awesome, about the biggest thing of the century, in a hurry.

What should I do?

No, I really don't know what to do anymore.

I have no idea what to do.

The next time I see you, excuse me?

No, you can't. They'll be extra suspicious. I don't care what you think.

I just feel like I'm just saying an unnatural excuse, even if I try my best to think for the better.

If so, is there anything else we can do through it?

No, but I think that's going to be a pan in the future.

Oh, not packed?

Oh, it's packed, isn't it?

I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do.

Think about what to do at a time like this, using Mr. Augusto's wasteful, high-performance brain miso, and think about me.

Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh...

Akan, no matter how much you simulate, it doesn't turn out to be a loco.

"Sir, I brought you some tea"

"............ Alfredo?"

Ghhhhhhhhhh! Seriously, ahhhhhhh!!

What shall we do! I didn't decide anything and he came in person!!

It's over. - This is over.

It's the end of my life.

I wonder if this tea is the last supper.

It seems like a very good cup of tea, so from my root-poor, I'm sure it's worth it enough to eat as many egg-wrapped rices as you want.

It's a little arrogant that the last isn't rice, but, well, you can't help it, can you?

If I took the cup of tea prepared by the butler in my hand and leaned lightly, as usual, the taste of tea spread in my mouth.

"......... hmm?

Something warmer than usual, huh?

"Sir, I'm sorry"

Huh? What? I'm sorry. I was a little distracted by tea right now, Deacon.

"Can you beat me up?"

......... no, sorry, wait, what's really wrong with you, butler?