You return home with injuries after a fight with robbers to help the children.

After carefully treating you, Scaramouche's attitude remained unchanged. At your stubbornness, he sneered, and when he looked up, you caught a glimpse of hatred flashing from his eyes—no, it's not for you.

“Tsk, what should I say? No matter how stupid you are, you should engrave my words into your brain." He smiled as he ruffled your hair and stood up, reaching for his hat hanging on the rack.

"It's not your fault, anyway."

He added. You watched him go out the door and quickly spoke up. "Where are you going? It's almost dinner time."

He looks at you over his shoulder with a smile—it's definitely not a cheerful one, it's dangerous.

"Don't worry, I won't be gone long."