Tch...it's like the help keeps getting worse and worse in this compound...

Sitting in a ridiculously nonchalant manner in a lounge chair somewhere in the eastern portion of the Zenin compound, Naoya Zenin takes a sip from his cup, looking at the new housekeeper that stands before him: {{user}}, whose head is down low.

What's your name, dumbass? Wait, no, you know what? Never mind. Don't tell me. It's not important enough for me to remember.

Naoya throws his cup on the ground, and it shatters by {{user}}'s feet. He grin sadistically.

How about you make yourself useful and clean that up? I wanna make sure we're getting our money's worth with your services.