Chapter 6: The Scent of Coffee and Magic.

Just in time for the coffee to finish brewing, the butler finished ironing and straightened his back.

Ironing newspapers is a task the butler hasn’t handed over to me yet. I’ve been practicing, but for some reason, the newspaper always ends up charred black when I do it.

“The aroma is excellent as always. Is there a secret?”

“You have to let the ground coffee bloom sufficiently at the right temperature. That way, the flavor is extracted more richly.”

“Which means I am telling you, don’t rush.”

“Because that is the secret.”

Still, I took over the coffee brewing duty just a week after I started.

The King’s Brother, who shouted “Hurry, hurry” more often than I, who possesses the memories of a Korean, might complain about the speed of brewing, but he is extremely satisfied with the taste and aroma of the coffee.

He would put a generous amount of dark-roasted coffee grounds into a cup and pour boiling water directly over it to drink.

It is said that letting the coffee grounds settle in the cup before drinking is common here, and it certainly has its own charm.

The problem was that the King’s Brother drank it before the grounds even settled, as if drinking an Iced Americano.

His purpose seemed to be injecting caffeine into his veins rather than tasting the coffee.

Saying that getting addicted to caffeine at a young age would stunt his growth was something I couldn’t say, nor would it have been useful.

In fact, the King’s Brother was tall enough without growing any further.

It was just pity that he was wasting good beans without properly tasting them.

The butler, after tasting the coffee I dripped using a cotton cloth instead of a paper filter, immediately handed over the coffee-making duty to me.

I was originally confident in drip coffee.

It was the only hobby I had to relieve the stress accumulated from suddenly managing a jewelry shop.

It took a week to hand over the duty partly because I had to adjust the concentration to be stronger than what I enjoyed drinking, but a bigger reason was that I had to learn how to use the pot for boiling water.

It was an object that was extremely picky about people. One didn’t need to know magic, but they had to feel what mana was. I also had to obtain permission from the King’s Brother, the owner of the pot. Like registering a fingerprint on a digital door lock.

I really struggled to handle this luxurious pot that used a ruby like a rechargeable battery. Although I didn’t have any tools for precise gem appraisal, I could guarantee it. The same mineral as the rubies I handled on Earth was mounted on the pot.

I had my suspicions when looking at the silver coins, but the ruby gave me certainty.  That this world really has an environment almost identical to Earth’s.

If not, how could gems that are formed only when specific elements are under specific conditions, gems that have value because they are rare and beautiful, appear in the exact same form as on Earth?

The more certain I became of my hypothesis, the stranger the forces of pheromones and magic seemed.

Could I use that power too? Doubt and curiosity grew to equal sizes.

It wasn’t that I developed an ambition to become a mage and wield vast power. I’m not a middle schooler dreaming of world domination.

Gems were mediums for magic. Even for non-mages, if they could feel mana, gems were storage devices that allowed them to handle artifacts producing magical power. Gems had capabilities I didn’t know about.

Naturally, I had to find out.

If I had to boil water simply on a coal fire instead of a mana pot to brew coffee, I wouldn’t have thrown myself into it with such fervor.

I was in the midst of following the butler around to learn tasks by observation, learning the Henian script, and doing exercises for posture correction.

To learn mana breathing techniques on top of that, I had no choice but to reduce my sleep.

I diligently followed the breathing technique the butler taught me, but I couldn’t get a sense of what mana was.

It was on the night of the fifth day since getting my own room that I felt a change. While half-asleep, I opened my eyes wide at the sticky sensation clinging to my skin. I couldn’t see anything, but I definitely felt something existed.

It was the same when breathing. I sensed something heavier than air entering my body. It was a sensation I hadn’t felt before, like breathing underwater.

That night, I couldn’t sleep a wink. Because I was focused on breathing all night long.

To someone who doesn’t know, it might look like foolishness, but looking back, I think I was in a state of ecstasy then.

Every time I inhaled, it felt like recharging exhausted energy.

When I opened my eyes because my body could no longer accept mana, I even felt regret.

When preparing for the morning protocol, the butler looked at me and said, “It seems you slept properly today.”

The elation, like a runner’s high, didn’t seem to be solely due to my feelings.

The King’s Brother also said, “Jay’s eyes aren’t red today. Indeed, one must sleep properly.”

Coming from someone suspected of suffering from chronic insomnia, the reliability of that statement skyrocketed.

And that day, I succeeded in boiling water using the mana pot. It boiled so instantly that I was startled.

Riding the momentum, I challenged ironing as well, but after almost starting a fire, the iron was taken away from me.

In fact, not only the pot and iron, but all amenities in the main building where the King’s Brother resides, such as lighting, hot water, and heating/cooling, were controlled by magic devices.

It was natural that a fireplace couldn’t be found.

The only people who could handle all those magic devices were the King’s Brother and the butler.

Even the head chef needed the butler’s help when using mana cooking tools, which allowed for easy heat control.

I, who was permitted even a part of that, was definitely receiving special treatment.

There were people who picked fights with me out of disapproval, and people who showed favor to look good to me.

I didn’t care much either way.

What was important to me was that my employer possessed excellent financial power to use all those magic items on a daily basis.

For any magic item, the power source was a gem. It was bound to be that expensive.

The King’s Brother was extremely busy. He spent most of his time in the study. All sorts of documents came and went.

There were many letters or invitations from young Omegas of similar age to the King’s Brother, which could be love letters or fan letters, but what he spent time reviewing were mainly real estate-related documents.

The butler was assisting with a considerable amount of work, but the final decisions were still made by the King’s Brother himself.

As I learned about the King’s Brother’s stable economic foundation and diligent work attitude, my loyalty to my new workplace grew.

“You heard the explanation about the Rut from Philip, right?”

The King’s Brother said after drinking the hot coffee I brewed with sincerity proportional to my loyalty in one gulp.

It was a light tone, as if talking about today’s weather.

The one who couldn’t take this topic lightly was the butler, Philip.

Maintaining his usual upright posture, he noticeably flinched.

“Yes, I heard the explanation.”

I answered, pretending not to hear the butler’s heavy breathing.

The Rut, the Alpha’s heat cycle.

When explaining the Rut to me, the butler used a much more serious voice than usual.

He said the Duke becomes extremely sensitive during this period, so I must be even more careful with my behavior.

That was clearly a warning.

“The reason I’m staying home these days is that I don’t know when the Rut will come. It could be today, or it could be a week later.”

“Yes, I heard about that too.”

I heard that since the King’s Brother’s pheromones are powerful but unstable, his Rut is also irregular.

The butler said that Alphas with weaker pheromones spend their Ruts more frequently and shortly.

There are Alphas who spend a day in Rut once a month, but the average is about 2-3 days once every 3 months.

In the King’s Brother’s case, it seems he experiences it about once a year for around ten days.

If it were exactly a one-year cycle, it should have already started a week ago.

“Aren’t you scared?”

The King’s Brother asked with a face now completely devoid of playfulness.

“Should I be scared?”

“Because everyone else is.”

A smile lingered on the King’s Brother’s lips. It wasn’t his usual playful smile, but a twisted one. I couldn’t deny that everyone was scared. It was true that the attitude of the employees had been extremely rigid lately.

There were several fights caused by mutual sensitivity, and the frequency of people picking fights with me for no reason also increased.

“Honestly, I don’t really know. Since it’s something I haven’t experienced personally.”

Still, that was other people’s story, and to my eyes, those acting like prickly hedgehogs seemed strange.

Because it was actually hard to find any changed appearance in the King’s Brother whom I saw every morning.

The King’s Brother’s bitter smile deepened.

Who was he mocking?

The people who were afraid of him?

“If an Omega is nearby, an Alpha in Rut gets swept away by the instinct to impregnate them. Truly a beast. Regardless of what feelings they usually had for the other person, or what feelings the other person has, they are frantic to spread their seed.”

Or perhaps the King’s Brother himself?

The butler had explained to me carefully choosing his words.

Unlike the King’s Brother now speaking explicitly. There was a sense of incongruity in his way of speaking. His own experience was missing from the general discussion about Alphas.

“Even Betas try to spread their legs for me if they get swept away by my pheromones. Without knowing what they are doing at all. When a Beta whom I cannot impregnate asks me to screw them, I want to tear them apart and kill them.”

The story with himself as the subject was not sexual but violent.

I realized.

That the King’s Brother’s bitter smile was based on self-loathing.

“I’m the one who brought you here as I pleased. And I’m the one who said I’d make you my exclusive servant. Telling you the facts belatedly is definitely a cowardly act, but I’ll speak honestly even now. You can say you’re scared. It’s natural to be scared. I’ll make sure you can do other work.”

As if to give me time, the King’s Brother closed his mouth.

A silence continued in which even the ticking of the second hand of the pocket watch in the butler’s inner jacket pocket could be clearly heard.