Mystical Fantasy : The Lazy Real Young Master [EN]
Chapter 5 - 1.5 : The Dinner and the Decision

Chapter 5: Chapter 1.5 : The Dinner and the Decision

That night, the Virellano family dining room was filled with the delicious aroma of food from the ever-busy kitchen. The crystal chandelier bathed the room in warm light, reflecting off the long dining table draped in black silk and gold embroidery—trying, perhaps, to mask the tension that had just unfolded.

Al stepped in and instantly felt the cold stares, especially when the servant gestured for him to sit at the far end of the table—still at the same table, yet clearly apart from the rest of the family. Despite other empty seats in better positions, he was deliberately set aside. A clear sign: the battle wasn’t over.

David sat with a faint smile, arms crossed. Sarah twirled her spoon with a satisfied look. Sandra sat near her husband, unsure, her gaze on Al a mixture of maternal concern and quiet guilt. Even if a large part of her hadn’t accepted Al yet, her motherly instincts made her worry for the child she’d finally found.

"I’m sitting here?" Al asked, his tone casually laced with irony. "Isn’t this a bit..."

Edward stared at him—unaccustomed to being questioned, especially by one of his own children. It was as if his authority was being challenged. Still, he held back his irritation out of consideration for the son who had just returned.

"For now, yes. Besides, you’ve brought trouble to this family tonight. Think of it as punishment," Edward replied.

"You should be grateful we’re even letting you sit here. Normally, we wouldn’t share a table with a backwater criminal like you," Sarah sneered.

Al only nodded.

"Really? So this is how the elite speak? And here I thought you cared about public image..." he muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Sarah was furious. She stood abruptly, slamming her hand on the table.

"What did you just say?!"

"Hey now, how can you be the one angry when you’re the one doing the mocking, and I’m the one being mocked?" Al replied, shaking his head.

Sarah’s anger flared even more.

"How dare you—!"

"Sarah. That’s enough." Edward’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

Sarah froze, glaring at him. She knew she couldn’t push it any further. Still, she sat down with visible annoyance, her eyes still locked on Al like daggers.

Al met her gaze.

They stared at each other, one filled with contempt, the other with scorn.

Sparks flew between them.

Al eventually sat down, unbothered. He leaned back in the chair, arms folded, eyes empty as he stared at his plate. Oddly enough, he was satisfied—at least he was still allowed to eat dinner with the family.

Even so, he was isolated at the end of the table. No one directly forced him away, but his plate remained empty longer than anyone else’s. He stared at the fine silverware and porcelain, at the delicious dishes presented—his mouth almost watering.

He let out a small smile. Not of joy, but the kind you give when trying to hide embarrassment over nearly drooling.

A family dinner? Yet... it feels like I’m still outside the gate. Whatever. As long as the food’s good, he thought.

Dinner began.

As they ate, Edward finally spoke in a deep, commanding voice.

"We need to talk about Al’s behavior today. I expect this to be the last time our family faces trouble because of his actions."

Sarah, sensing the cue, jumped in.

"Father, this child has been here for less than a day, and he’s already shown wild behavior. He caused a scene and even harassed a maid. It’s a disgrace."

Aurielle added coldly, "If we don’t act soon, he’ll start exploiting our wealth. He’s a danger to our reputation and business."

All eyes turned to Al—but he remained calm, focused on his food. After a moment, he glanced up and apologized casually.

"Ah... sorry. I’ll work on myself to meet this family’s standards," he said with a smile.

Sarah was stunned by his composure. She looked down at her plate, then sneered, "Who does he think he is? A street rat who suddenly shows up and acts like he owns the place. A criminal. How many times has he been arrested?"

Al’s eyes sharpened. Tired of the label.

"Hold on," he said.

Everyone looked at him.

"I don’t want to drag this out. Since the moment I woke up, you’ve accused me with no proof. I stayed silent. Then I was punished for something I didn’t do—still no evidence. I accepted it. But now, even without proof, I’m still being called a criminal? Isn’t that too much?"

They stared at him. Indeed, there was no real evidence—but for a boy like Al, being a criminal just felt fitting. Especially with the maid’s testimony.

David, the one who orchestrated it all, felt a flicker of nervousness—but reassured himself. The setup was solid. The CCTV blind spot made it foolproof. Still, part of him felt uneasy. He looked at his father, hoping he wouldn’t press for details.

And sure enough...

"That’s enough. Drop it," Edward said sternly, clearly unwilling to continue—either from frustration or exhaustion.

Al frowned.

"Every time there’s a problem, you say ’enough’ like that settles it. Isn’t this the time to actually resolve the issue? Maybe ask for some proof at least?"

"Al! Don’t talk back to Father," Aurielle snapped.

Al fell silent, his gaze dull, not defiant—just tired.

Knew it. Wasting energy on shallow drama like this isn’t worth it, he thought.

Edward stared hard at Al. His anger was rising.

Sandra noticed and gently touched her husband’s arm.

"Husband..." she whispered.

Receiving that kind of response from his wife, Edward’s anger began to subside. He wasn’t an idiot—he understood the urgency of the issue, and it was only fair for Al to demand evidence before accepting the accusations thrown at him.

But tonight, he was exhausted. And for the first time in this house, a child had dared to defy him.

He wasn’t a perfect father, and he wasn’t used to dealing with a child like Al. That’s why, in this moment, he found himself unsure of what to do.

Should he treat this the same way he would when an employee challenged his authority?

Or should he act like a father—despite having no real experience dealing with a child who dared to push back?

He was more familiar with his other seven children, who would fall silent and bow their heads the moment he raised his voice.

Edward sighed deeply and chose not to escalate.

"Enough. I’m tired. We’ll discuss this another time. If you’re truly innocent... fine. For now, there’s something else we need to talk about."

Sandra nodded gently.

"I agree."

Al nodded too—feeling like all his energy had gone to waste. Nothing had changed, except now some of them probably disliked him even more.

And so dinner ended.

Later, some of the family and Edward sat in the larger living room to negotiate Al’s next steps—particularly where he would live in the mansion.

Sarah eagerly offered a suggestion.

"Discipline is necessary—whether or not he harassed the maid. He’s a wild child used to the streets. I say we put him in the storage room as a reminder that he’s not part of this family yet."

Aurielle agreed.

"I suppose the storage room suits him just fine. He needs to learn from the bottom. We didn’t start from the same point. He came into this house carrying the wild influence of the outside world. If he’s treated as equal right away, he might start thinking he can do whatever he wants here."

David, calm as ever, sat upright and glanced at their father.

"I think... for now, that’s wise. Al will need time to adjust. It’ll help everyone stay calm."

There was no sarcasm in his voice. He even looked at Al with what seemed like genuine understanding. A perfect mask. He just didn’t want Al to be treated as his equal. No matter how accepted he was, Al’s bloodline made him a threat. And to him, this had become a battle of who would push the other out first

Al, leaning quietly in the corner, raised an eyebrow.

"Mmm... I don’t mind the storage room," he said casually.

Everyone turned toward him.

"But... if the goal is discipline, isn’t that a bit extreme? That room is cramped and damp—bad for my health. And if I’m supposed to learn to be part of this family, starting off in a moldy dungeon might just make me feel more alienated."

"You’re negotiating?" Aurielle asked.

"Correct," Al replied. "But don’t worry, I’m not asking for anything I don’t deserve. I just want what’s fair. Besides..."

He paused, voice softening.

"...I haven’t received anything from this family in seventeen years."

His voice was quiet, but every family member heard. It struck deep—especially Sandra, whose eyes welled up.

With no one objecting, Al continued.

"If possible, I’d like to stay in that small building near the garden. About two hundred meters from the main house. It’s private, modest, and it’d give me my own space. Compared to my siblings’ rooms, it’s still... humble. So technically, I’m still ’starting from the bottom,’ just... in a more livable way."

Aurielle almost said something about the sibling rooms being mentioned—but she held back.

Al added, "And you won’t have to worry about me. If you all think I’m a pervert or criminal, this helps. I’ll be far from the maids and the rest of the family. You can assign guards if you want—Dedy, maybe?" he smiled.

Edward furrowed his brow, slightly surprised by Al’s lengthy yet logical explanation. For some reason, he found himself a little impressed by his son’s ability to present such strong and persuasive arguments. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, though he couldn’t quite understand why someone as wild as Al would prefer to be under supervision rather than being given a more private room.

Still, just like before, he chose not to press the matter. He was already tired from a long day of work and the exhausting trip to fetch Al. There was no need to drag this on. Besides, Al’s suggestion actually seemed like a good way to address the issue.

"That building hasn’t been used in a while. Are you sure?"

Al nodded. "I think it’ll work fine."

Truthfully, Al had sensed a magical aura from the building earlier that day. That was his real reason.

David noticed—and his eyes flickered. He knew that building. He slowly placed his hand on the table but said nothing.

Sarah narrowed her eyes.

"You mean that old, dirty shack?"

Aurielle added, "That was David’s old cat house. After his cat died, no one touched it."

Al glanced at David.

"Oh... I didn’t know. Just saw it from outside."

David finally spoke.

"It’s dusty. Possibly moldy. But... if you’re comfortable there, that’s your call."

Edward considered briefly, then nodded.

"Harun, clean the place. Install a bed and a fan. Nothing fancy."

"Yes, Sir," Harun replied.

Sarah added, "Honestly, it’s a good idea. A punishment that doesn’t harm the family’s image but still sets boundaries."

"Thanks for the appreciation, Sis Sarah," Al suddenly said.

Sarah stiffened. She’d just complimented Al’s idea—and hated herself for it.

Edward turned to Al seriously.

"Fine. We’ll allow this. But you need to show proper conduct."

Al shrugged. "Got it, Dad. I’ll settle in there tonight."

The tension eased slightly—but still lingered.

Edward glanced at Al again.

"As for allowance, you’ll receive the same amount as the others. Fifty million per month."

Al nodded, indifferent. For now, he just wanted to clean the room and get some sleep as soon as possible.

But before he could reply, Aurielle interrupted—calm, but sharp.

"Sorry, Father, if I may... Al hasn’t been publicly acknowledged as part of the family. Giving him the full allowance might create a... misleading perception. Especially since he hasn’t proven himself in our family system."

Sarah chimed in, "We don’t even know if he can uphold the family’s image. Giving him fifty million like us seems... unwise. He might use it for perverted things."

Edward looked irritated—but their arguments weren’t entirely wrong.

Al, tired of it all, simply muttered,

"I don’t actually need an allowance. The food here is enough. I’m grateful. I can work part-time if I need money."

The room fell silent. Even David looked at him longer than usual.

Edward looked at Sandra, silently urging her to speak.

Sandra, more familiar with the family’s finances, nodded.

"I-I think that’s best for now. I’ll give you... a little pocket money. And anything essential you need. Think of it as a test. If you can integrate well into this family..."

She paused, uncomfortable, but said it anyway.

"...you’ll be treated equally."

Edward stepped in, smoothing over the awkwardness.

"Exactly. We’ll provide what’s needed. But are you sure about this?" he asked—not angry, just cautious.

Al nodded.

Still, behind his calm exterior, a thought echoed:

Fifty million? Isn’t that just a third of what interns get at that company?Hah... money means nothing.

Edward exhaled and nodded.

"Fine. For now, the allowance will be held. Report your needs to Harun."

He turned to Harun.

"Take him to the building. Prepare it. He’ll stay there starting tonight."

"Yes, Sir." Harun bowed, then glanced at Al.

Al slowly stood up. Before leaving with Harun, he glanced around the room—sweeping his gaze over every face.

His deep black eyes reflected the glow of the crystal chandelier above. But he saw more than faces—he saw magical auras.

Edward’s aura was dim gold—dominant, yet disturbed. Sandra’s was warm gold, but shaky.

Aurielle and Sarah gave off dull yellow light. Each family member had red threads connecting them to Al—signs of blood ties—but the threads were weak, as if being drained by something.

Then his eyes fell on David.

David’s face was calm, clean, and charismatic as always. But the aura around him was... different.

Dark. A pulsating blackish-purple mist, like poisonous fog.

It wasn’t just dark—it was feeding off the others, drawing in their light like a slow vortex.

He’s... draining them? Al frowned slightly.

But he said nothing.

Because how could he possibly explain that... to a family who didn’t even understand the supernatural?

He simply sighed and followed Harun out of the room.

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