Beast Gacha System: All Mine-Chapter 271: Auspicious Opportunity

"Cecilia Araceli is my son’s fiancée." August said sharply. "Why can’t you see how scandalous it will be if you decide to let your son get entangled with her?"

He was seething. His hands, pressed flat against the arm of the sofa, trembled with the effort of maintaining composure.

Eliam chuckled.

It was light, almost amused, and somehow infinitely more infuriating than any argument could have been.

"Apparently your skin is rather thin, huh, August." The golden patriarch leaned back, stretching his arms along the back of the sofa. "So what? We can take as many women as we want, just because we’re lords, because we’re men, but we can’t let our daughter-in-law have the same privilege?" He tilted his head, golden eyes gleaming. "When she’s that valuable?"

Baswara said gravelly, low and cutting. "Rather than asking that, in here, you’re the one who has no leverage, boy."

He didn’t even need to raise his voice.

"You’re the one who made her your daughter-in-law because you had something to hide."

These shits.

August’s face went through several shades of red. His jaw worked. His hands clenched and unclenched.

They just couldn’t stop becoming more and more bizarre, more and more infuriating.

"I just can’t understand you tw—"

"AH TELL US! WHY ARE YOU GATEKEEPING IT?!"

A voice exploded from somewhere below, cutting through August’s words like a thunderclap.

"BWHAHAHWAHAHHAH— "

"JUST ASK CECILIA WHEN SHE RETURNS, SHE ALSO DIDN’T TELL ME EVERYT— "

The three men in the office froze.

Those voices, they knew them. Even blindfolded, even deaf in one ear, they would have known.

Their sons.

They moved as one, two patriarchs, one retired battle mage, three powerful men, scrambling to the window. August got there first, pressing his face against the glass. Eliam shoved in beside him, shoulder to shoulder. Baswara wedged himself between them, his old bones creaking with the effort.

Two middle-aged men and a grandpa, fighting for a view.

Down in the courtyard, the three younger men stood in a loose triangle, their voices carrying clearly through the winter air.

"She didn’t tell you?" Eastiel was the one who had shouted first, his golden hair wild. "She really didn’t?"

Arkai stood with his arms crossed, his expression caught somewhere between defensive and guilty. "I don’t know who she visited in that graveyard, alright? And I didn’t ask, it’s rude." He shifted his weight. "And telling you two where it is might be bad too. You know her. She respects boundaries."

"Alright, let’s ask her when she returns." Oathran said calmly. "Although you should have told us she might be going to a graveyard. It gives us clues."

"Well." Arkai’s jaw tightened. "Because it gives us clues, I didn’t want us to assume..." He looked at Oathran. "Elder Brother, sometimes your morals are questionable."

"Of course they are questionable." Oathran’s hands shot out, gripping Arkai’s shoulders, his mock glare fierce. "Am I not a four-hundred-year-old man marrying a twenty-five-year-old? And because I want to know where our wife goes? Alone?" He shook Arkai slightly. "Arkai, I thought you’d agree with me."

"It’s her right to keep things to herself..." Arkai grumbled, looking away. "I feel bad after what she did for us..."

"She should have told us still!" Eastiel’s voice cracked. "Why is she making us worry? She can find out about us but we can’t find out about her?"

"Calm down..."

The three men upstairs had their heads smushed against one another, pressed so close to the glass that their breath fogged it. August’s face was pinched. Eliam’s smile had frozen into something almost unreadable. Baswara’s bushy brows had climbed so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline.

They were listening. Very hard.

"Come on, let’s go in and fight." Arkai’s voice carried that particular edge, the one that came out when his tail was twitching and his ears were flat and his pride was on the line. "I’m kind of curious about how strong we are compared to each other without our beast bloodline."

Eastiel’s grin spread slow and dangerous, his golden eyes fixed on Oathran. "Elder Brother, this might be the only world where I can defeat you."

"Ha!" Oathran scoffed sharply. "You can dream on, Brother." His grey eyes narrowed. "You think I’m the strongest among the three of us because I’m a dragon? You are very wrong."

"I don’t agree, Elder Brother." Arkai’s voice was flat, but the corner of his mouth twitched. "I think you’re strong just because you’re a dragon."

"Riiiiiight~?!" Eastiel mocked.

"Brat!"

Initially, they had wanted to fight it out at school. The training grounds were right there, empty and available.

But after arm wrestling had caused such a commotion, students had climbed on desks and professors had pretended not to notice, they had agreed that an actual fight would cause much more gossip. Much more misunderstanding.

So they went to the closest alternative.

The Dawnoro House’s training ground.

But on their way there, they saw three men standing casually in the corridor.

Eastiel recognized one of them immediately. His feet carried him forward before his brain caught up.

"Father!"

He ran. In his high school boy body, in the uniform that still felt too new, he ran and threw his arms around Eliam Edengold like he was ten years old again.

"Oh—" Eliam chuckled, surprised yet warm and fatherly. He had rushed downstairs with the other two, wanting to meet these boys ’casually’ on their way inside. He hadn’t expected this.

His son. In his arms. Hugging him in public, in front of another patriarch and a clearly older man who was watching with poorly disguised amusement.

Eliam’s eyes warmed.

"Why are you here?" Eastiel’s voice was muffled against his father’s shoulder. "Why didn’t you tell me you had an official trip? I could have done it for you!" He pulled back slightly, his expression earnest. "You should have rested with Mother."

Eliam cleared his throat.

He truly couldn’t complain. After Eastiel met Cecilia Araceli and everything that had happened, his son had been different. Not just more aggressive with their military. But... affectionate. He couldn’t understand why, couldn’t trace the cause or find the thread that connected the change to any single event.

But he would accept it. Enjoy it. Treasure it.

"Even though you can do everything, there are still things Father needs to do himself." Eliam’s hand came up, rubbing his son’s back as they loosened the hug. "Why are you here, then? Playing with your friends?" His voice was gentle, but firm. "This is only the first day of school. Don’t get carried away, alright?"

"Father." Eastiel straightened, and something in his expression shifted. Became proud. "I want you to meet my brothers."

He turned. Gestured. Presented the other two like the most natural thing in the world.

"Guys, this is my father, Eliam Edengold, the Golden Lion King."

First, he introduced his father. Not with this world’s title they had. But with the real world’s title.

"And Father, this is Brother Arkai, my second brother." His hand moved. "And this is Elder Brother Oathran, my first brother." His voice then stumbled on the next words. "They’re Cecilia’s husbb-b-boyfriends. Just like me."

"..."

"..."

"..."

Three older men stood frozen. Speechless. Processing.

Oathran stepped forward first, ignoring the silence. He was respectful as he bowed a formal greeting, the kind that acknowledged station and age and seniority, although in the real world, he’d still be much older.

"Nice to meet you, Father-in-laws, Lord Eliam, Lord Dawnoro." He said sincerely. "What an auspicious opportunity to meet you."

Arkai and Eastiel’s faces twisted into something subtle and complicated.

And sad.

Right.

Eliam and August were gone in the real world. Long before they became brothers.

"East, Ark, this is my Elder, Baswara, the Sea Dragon, Conquer of the Deep," Oathran said, honoring Eastiel’s way of introducing his father with his real world title by introducing his elder the same way.

"And Professor Baswara." Oathran turned, his voice warming. "Let me introduce you to my younger brothers." He gestured again, and Baswara, who had been watching with a surprised and incredulous expression, regained his composure quickly, his smile now warm and genuine.

"This is my reliable brother, Arkai." Oathran’s hand rested on Arkai’s shoulder. "And this is my... reliable brother too, Eastiel."

"AH WHY THE PAUSE?!" Eastiel snapped`.

Arkai stepped forward, his own posture shifting into something more formal. His eyes met August’s, his father’s, and held.

"Father." He said calmly. "I don’t care if you’d like to meet them or not. These are my brothers. Eastiel and Elder Brother Oathran." No words he said wavered. "Don’t say anything if you have nothing good to say."

This brat!

His other ’brothers’ had introduced their elders so respectfully. So properly. Why was he the one getting this treatment?!

"Anyway, Father." Eastiel’s voice was brighter now, almost too bright, trying to bury the lingering grief. "Do you want to watch us fight? We’re about to see who’s stronger."

"Yes, Professor." Oathran’s gaze slid over the other two. "Please watch us. I need to prove why I’m the chosen one here."

"Heh." Arkai’s lips curled. "This is still my residence, brothers. I won’t let you win in my own house."

Oh.

Oho.

So.

As expected, they were highly competitive.

The three older men felt their blood boil along with them.