Help, I'm in Another World and All the Men Are Are So Dangerous! [BL]-Chapter 205: Loyalty and Escape

But deep down, he was nothing more than a cowardly, timid man.

It made Rocco wonder—had he and his brother ever gotten along?

Maybe not.

Just because they were family didn’t mean their relationship was simple.

Even Rocco and Sylas’s bond hadn’t been easy.

Their journey to this point had been complicated, full of struggles and tangled emotions.

And for royalty, it must have been even worse.

"...You as well."

The quiet words pulled Rocco from his thoughts.

The fox beastman, who had been silently observing, finally spoke.

His voice was calm, unreadable.

Georgio turned to face him, curious.

Looking Georgio directly in the eye, the fox beastman spoke again—this time, with certainty.

"If you put it that way, why do you follow that ignorant, foolish child as your master?"

"...What?"

"He is neither wise nor physically capable. In fact, he is nothing but a fool with no strength to speak of. So why? You could serve anyone you wanted."

Ouch.

Rocco felt like crying.

Those words cut deep because they were true.

Georgio had no reason to serve someone like him.

If anything, Georgio was the kind of person who should have been a master himself.

And yet, for some reason, he had chosen to stay by Rocco’s side.

Now that Rocco thought about it, he had never really questioned why.

"...What are you even talking about?" Georgio scoffed, tilting his head. "Sure, from an outsider’s perspective, my master is a complete idiot. But to me, he’s the only one who matters. So don’t be rude, okay?"

Tears welled up in Rocco’s eyes as he looked at Georgio with stars practically sparkling around him.

Georgio!

That "complete idiot" part was unnecessary, but the rest—oh, the rest made Rocco so, so happy.

Georgio truly cared about him.

"I am the same as you."

The fox beastman’s quiet words broke through the moment.

As Rocco was still reeling from emotion, the fox beastman’s voice suddenly broke the silence.

Snapping his gaze toward him, Rocco’s breath caught in his throat.

The fox beastman stood there, carrying an unconscious Ares over his shoulder.

His usual unreadable expression softened just slightly, revealing the faintest trace of a pained smile.

"Even if he is a foolish coward destined for ruin, to me, he is my one and only master."

With those final words, he pulled something from his inner pocket and dropped it at his feet.

Rocco’s eyes caught a glimpse of the markings on the paper.

Wait—was that... a magic circle?

Before he could even process it, Sylas and Mahmoud’s eyes went wide in realization.

Georgio, still facing the fox beastman, also stiffened.

"That bastard... he’s a magician?!"

Mahmoud quickly summoned flames into his palm and hurled them forward.

At the same time, Georgio flung a razor-sharp knife at their opponent.

But both attacks were blocked by some sort of invisible shield.

The magic circle activated, and a blinding light erupted, engulfing the fox beastman and Ares.

The brilliance was so overwhelming that Rocco had to shut his eyes.

"I’m returning ’this’ to you. If a defective product missing an arm can still be of use, then by all means, do as you wish."

That last, infuriating remark rang out.

Rocco’s eyes snapped open.

Hey, what the hell does that mean—?!

But when he looked...

They were gone.

That magic circle must have been for teleportation.

Apparently, Mahmoud wasn’t the only magician here.

Magic users were said to make up less than ten percent of the population.

Yet lately, Rocco seemed to be running into them left and right.

It was a strange feeling.

But what puzzled him even more was the fox beastman himself.

Why, when he had access to magic, was he so fixated on using a bow and arrow?

Not a gun, not knives—a bow.

There had to be a deeper reason behind it.

"Shit! Hey, young master sylas, are you really okay with letting them escape?!"

Mahmoud spat the words out while punching the wall in frustration.

Sylas with unreadable expression simply replied, "...I’m not."

...If he wasn’t, then shouldn’t they go after them right away?

Rocco fidgeted anxiously, but Sylas didn’t seem inclined to pursue them.

"That being said, our mission was only to retrieve the beastman. And we did. Not only that, but we also uncovered both the enemy’s identity and their objective. No one can fault us for this outcome."

That was true.

Their goal in coming to this mansion had been to rescue Ragar.

Rocco had half-expected a confrontation with Ragar’s former master, the slave trader.

Instead, they had run into the mastermind behind it all.

In the end, they had gathered far more information than expected. novelbuddy.cσ๓

No one would be scolding them for letting the enemy slip away—not with results like this.

But now that he thought about it...

Who exactly were they supposed to report this to?

His father, of course.

But should they also inform the king?

The shocking truth had been revealed—the mastermind was none other than a pair of brothers, and those brothers were plotting a rebellion.

Could that seemingly timid king even handle such a revelation?

As that thought filled Rocco with unease, Sylas silently picked him up and began walking.

It seemed they were finally heading home.

"Hey, hey, sorry to ruin the whole ’case closed’ vibe, but... what about Ragar? I don’t think he’s going to come back to his senses anytime soon, you know?"

The relaxed sway of Rocco’s body suddenly froze.

Right.

They had rescued Ragar, but that didn’t mean their problems were over.

There were still so many unresolved issues.

First, what to do about Ragar’s severed right arm.

And second, how to break him out of his brainwashed state.

Slipping out of Sylas’s arms, Rocco hurried over to where Ragar lay on the floor.

He crouched down and gently poked the sleeping beastman’s cheek.

No response.

Worried, Rocco looked up at Georgio, who merely flashed him a smile.

"Ah, I made sure he was out cold. He probably won’t wake up until tomorrow. But, well... you should be prepared before that happens."

"Prepared...?"

Hearing that Ragar wouldn’t wake up for at least a day, Rocco felt a small sense of relief

He wasn’t sure he could handle seeing those lifeless, empty eyes again.

But even as he exhaled in relief, Georgio’s words about needing to be "prepared" lingered in his mind.

Something about the way he said it felt ominous.

What exactly did he mean?

Georgio gave a thin smile as he crouched across from Rocco and lightly touched Ragar’s body.

He ran his fingers over the space where Ragar’s right arm had once been and quietly explained,

"Master, you never put a collar or a brand on Ragar, right? You might want to reconsider that."

"...What? What are you talking about?"

Frustrated by Georgio’s roundabout way of speaking, Rocco furrowed his brows.

Georgio let out a small, troubled laugh before tapping Ragar’s neck and shoulder.

"This brainwashing is caused by the slave contract etched into his brand. The collar is already gone, so it’s not as bad as it could be, but... the contract with his former owner is still in place."

Rocco’s heart pounded with an unpleasant thud.

The contract with Ragar’s previous master was still in effect?

Did that mean Ragar was still bound to obey his former owner rather than Rocco?

If the brainwashing was tied to the brand... then would erasing it break the spell?

But completely removing a brand—was something like that even possible?

Georgio must have sensed Rocco’s growing confusion because, after a brief hesitation, he continued in a softer voice,

"Ah... in other words, if you really want to sever his contract with his former master, you need to claim Ragar as your own. You need to overwrite it."

"Overwrite...?"

"That’s right. You need to put a proper collar on Ragar—one that marks him as ’yours.’ And you’ll have to brand him, too. Of course, it has to be done with your own hands."

Rocco stiffened.

The words were so shocking that his mind struggled to process them.

He had to put a collar on Ragar, like some kind of pet?

He had to press burning metal to his skin, branding him like a slave?

Just like those cruel masters who enslaved beastmen—

"No! I—I could never do something like that!"

Rocco shot to his feet and stumbled backward, retreating from Ragar as if the mere thought was unbearable.

Ragar was family.

Someone precious to him.

There was no way he could force a collar onto Ragar’s neck.

No way he could bring himself to sear a brand into his body.

He couldn’t even imagine it—he didn’t want to imagine it.

His trembling legs nearly gave out, but Sylas caught him from behind, holding him steady.

A gentle hand rubbed his back in a soothing motion, and little by little, his breathing evened out.

But Georgio’s next words shattered that fragile calm.

"But if you don’t... Ragar will stay like this forever. He might even attack you. And if that happens..."

Georgio’s tone darkened, losing its usual playfulness.

"...then, whether you want it or not, I’ll have to kill him."

"—!"

"Master. If you truly care about Ragar, then no matter how painful it is... you have to make a choice."

There was no teasing in Georgio’s voice now.

Only quiet, undeniable seriousness.

And with words like that, how could Rocco possibly argue?

....