Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble!

Cassius then sighed and let the bloody rock and mangled corpse fall to the side, his hand releasing it with a dull thud.

His face was splattered with blood, streaks of crimson dripping down his cheek and jaw. His expression remained eerily calm, his breathing steady as he gazed down at the mangled remains.

The room was silent save for the ragged breathing of the servants, their faces pale and drawn. Some clung to each other for support, their knees threatening to give out beneath them.

And then it happened—what they feared, yet somehow expected. Cassius turned to face the trembling crowd, his crimson eyes sweeping over them like a predator sizing up his prey.

To the servants, he no longer looked human.

Blood dripped from his hair, painting his pale skin with streaks of crimson. His sharp features, once elegant and refined, now appeared otherworldly, monstrous. The flicker of light in his eyes only deepened their terror, reminding them of the stories whispered about him behind closed doors.

He was the devil his father had once referred to—the unholy offspring that had killed his own mother.

The room was utterly still, the oppressive silence broken only by the occasional drop of blood falling from his hands.

And then he smiled.

It was a harmless smile, soft and pleasant, like one offered in a moment of shared camaraderie. But here, with the mutilated corpse lying at his feet, it was horrifying.

"Let's see...Now that you've seen what happens to the rats who refuse to leave my house." Cassius said lightly, as he saw everyone who met his gaze look away in terror. "Tell me...How many of you are ready to accept your sins and leave on your own?"

His smile widened ever so slightly, his crimson eyes shining as he added, "...And how many of you are brave enough to let me find out your hidden sins by myself just like Mr Rat here?"

The moment those words were uttered, the room erupted into chaos as the crowd reacted with sheer survival instinct. Servants began shouting over each other, their voices desperate as they blurted out confessions of their misdeeds.

"I-I gave information about your whereabouts to a noble!"

"I've been selling treasures from the library to the market!"

"I gave information about your daily life to someone—just once, I swear!"

Cassius tilted his head, his smile deepening as he chuckled softly. The sound was low and rich, almost amused, but it carried an eeriness that made the shout out their sins even louder.

"Now, now." He said, raising a hand to quiet the cacophony. "You guys don't have to shout your sins to the heavens."

The room fell into an uneasy silence, the servants ragged breathing the only sound as they stared at him in terror.

Cassius then gestured toward the stack of papers on the table. "Write it down." He said simply. "One by one. No need to fight over who goes first since you'll all have your chance."

The moment he finished speaking, the crowd scrambled toward the table, their earlier terror replaced by a frantic need to escape the fate they had just witnessed.

Servants shoved and jostled each other, desperate to grab a sheet of paper and confess their sins.

Cassius himself stepped back slightly, his arms folding across his chest as he watched the chaos unfold. His eyes glinted with satisfaction, his bloodied smile still in place.

The sound of pens scratching against paper filled the room, the frantic motions of trembling hands betraying the fear gripping each servant as they poured their secrets onto the pages. Beads of sweat rolled down foreheads, and the air grew thick with the stench of nervous bodies packed together, the tension nearly suffocating.

Satisfied with the atmosphere he had created, Cassius turned on his heel, his coat swaying lightly behind him as he strode toward the door. Each step echoed in the tense silence, the servants freezing momentarily at the sound, their pens halting mid-scratch as their gazes darted toward him.

Cassius reached the doors and placed a hand on the handle, while the servants dared not move, their breaths held as they watched him.

"Oh." He said suddenly, his tone light, almost as if he'd remembered something trivial. He turned his head slightly, his gaze filled with amusement as he glanced over his shoulder. "I can't believe I almost forgot."

The servants stiffened, their earlier relief shattering in an instant.

"I never mentioned your punishments, did I?" Cassius said, turning back to face the room fully. His lips curved into a faint smile, and the blood splattered across his face only made it more unsettling.

He then tilted his head, tapping a finger thoughtfully against his chin. "At first, I considered something simple." He mused, his tone light. "I thought about making you all crouch down and kiss my feet as a show of submission, you know, just like something those egotistical and pompous nobles would've enjoyed making people do."

The servants exchanged uneasy glances, but there was a faint flicker of relief on some faces. It was humiliating, yes, but far better than the grisly fate Harland had met.

Cassius continued, his expression calm. "But then I thought about it for a moment." He said, a glint of mockery in his eyes as he wondered if he really wanted to act like those vile pigs. "And I decided against it. After all, I don't particularly enjoy the idea of men kissing me in any form, even if it was on my feet."

The servants gulped even though they had dry throats, confusion flickering across their faces as they waited for him to elaborate.

"So that's why, instead, I've come up with a much better idea." He said, gesturing lazily toward Harland's mutilated corpse. "Since Harland was essentially the sacrificial rat who saved you all, it's only fitting that you thank him properly in a sincere manner."

The room went utterly still, the servants frozen in place as they processed his words.

"And that's why you'll each crouch down..." Cassius said, his tone light and conversational. "...and give Harland a kiss on the face, right where it truly matters to show your sincerity and repentance over your mistakes."

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, disbelief etched onto every face.

Even Lucious, who rarely showed emotion, blinked in surprise and glanced at the mangled corpse before turning back to his master.

"Y-Young Master..." He said hesitantly, pointing toward the remains. "How can they enact such a punishment when there's no face left to kiss?"

Cassius didn't even glance back. He turned around as he began to walk toward the exit. "True." He said over his shoulder, his voice calm and unbothered. "But there's still the flesh and bones of his face left, isn't there? Let them kiss that."

The matter-of-factness of his statement made the crowd recoil, and one man, overcome by the imagery, stumbled to the side and vomited noisily onto the floor.

Cassius didn't stop walking, his voice carrying effortlessly through the room as he gave his final order. "Lucious." He called out. "Make sure every single one of them completes their punishment. And don't forget to collect all their confessions before you join me."

With that, he disappeared through the doors, leaving the hall behind.

The moment the doors closed behind him, the servants collectively let out a breath they hadn't realised they were holding. Whispers of relief and dread filled the air as they exchanged wide-eyed glances.

"The devil's gone." Someone muttered shakily, their voice barely above a whisper.

"But he'll come back." Another replied, their face pale. "He's not the master we once knew. He's...something else now...Something evil."

Lucious's sharp voice cut through the murmurs, commanding their attention. "You heard the Young Maaster." He said firmly, though even he couldn't hide the faint unease in his tone. "Line up and complete your punishment...Now."

The servants exchanged horrified looks, but none dared defy the order. Slowly, reluctantly, they shuffled toward Harland's corpse, their steps heavy with dread.

One man broke down before he could even approach, collapsing to his knees and sobbing. Another retched violently, clutching their stomach as they moved closer to the mutilated remains.

Meanwhile, those still writing their confessions scribbled furiously, their desperation to finish evident as they tried to avoid being last in line, while Lucious managed it all and couldn't wait to see his master and ask the questions he had on his mind.