At that cold, emotionless voice, Karl almost felt his soul jump out of his body. His knees went weak, and he nearly lost his balance.
Good thing, he wasn’t standing. Otherwise, not even the divine intervention could have saved him from the Old Demon.
"Old De —"
He bit his tongue sharply almost imdiately, stopping himself from committing the grave sin. "I an ... B-Big Brother. I just ca to play with Little Eira."
He shifted awkwardly, gesturing towards the little girl — who looked the least interested in playing with him. Still, desperate to save himself, he hurried to explain,
"With you away from ho most of the ti, she gets extrely lonely. So I, being her fourth — and the most favorite Uncle — often co to keep her company. Isn’t that right, angel?"
He turned to her, expectantly, silently begging for support.
But Eira didn’t even glance at him.
Her eyes remained fixed on her father.
She stared quietly ... intently ... searching sothing that she could feel but not see. Her small brows drew together slightly as she tilted her head.
Dylan felt her gaze on him, but he didn’t acknowledge it. He simply avoided her eyes, as though he hadn’t noticed the faint recognition within them.
Karl, on the other hand, felt like crying.
He tried waving subtly to catch her attention —it didn’t work.
He leaned closer — still nothing.
She didn’t move. Didn’t even blink his way. She just kept staring at Dylan as though no one else existed in the world. He knew she was close to her father ... but this close —he had only realized it today.
With no way out, he leaned toward her and whispered —a little too loudly to actually pass as a whisper.
"Eira, baby ... please tell your dad how good Fourth Uncle is at keeping you company. Pleeease."
However, there was still no response.
"Eira—"
"That’s enough," Dylan cut in.
His voice was calm, yet carried the unmistakable authority that kept others perpetually on edge. "Since you don’t have any better things to do, let’s discuss sothing important."
Karl stiffened.
Important.
Of course, his older brother never spoke about unimportant matters. But why did it feel like whatever he was about to say wasn’t just important—it was the sentence to his destruction. A punishnt.
Still, he knew he had no escape. Not when his brother was right there.
"I received the eighth complaint from your dean this month. Is this how you plan to continue the rest of your year?"
Karl swallowed. It was his dean again. Had he not requested him to take his complaints to either of his other two brothers? Why did he still have to report directly to the ultimate God of Death?
"I asked you sothing."
Dylan’s voice remained calm, yet it sent a sharp shiver down Karl’s spine. He shot to his feet imdiately.
"Big Brother, I —"
"Hn," Dylan humd softly, loosening his tie as he walked to the sofa and sat down. His posture remained straight and regal —as though he were seated on a throne rather than an ordinary couch. "Continue, I am all ears."
He then picked up an earphone from the table and gently placed it in Eira’s ears. "Listen to so music first."
Eira didn’t speak, nor did she resist. She simply let him put on the earphones and return to her drawing, cutting herself off from the scene.
When Dylan turned back, Karl swallowed before speaking quickly. "I–I plan to finish my studies diligently."
"How?" Dylan questioned almost imdiately, as though genuinely curious. "By picking fights at so underground shady club?"
Karl’s face paled instantly. The ground beneath his feet seed to tilt, and he nearly staggered.
"Karl Warren, you are the youngest, and that’s why, all this ti, I have allowed you to do as you pleased."
Dylan paused —just long enough to make the air grow heavy.
"But seems like you misunderstood my intentions."
"Your liberty was never a privilege," he continued, "It was ant to be your experience —to discover your ambitions. But since you failed to do so, I will take that responsibility back."
Karl’s heart thumped violently.
"I have already asked soone to make arrangents. You are being exported tomorrow."
"Exported?"
Dylan t his eyes without wavering ... without an ounce of warmth. "Yes. Since the environnt here is making you rebellious. I will send you to the one that will make you disciplined."
Karl shook his head, getting to his knees at once. He didn’t need to ask where he was being sent. The re hint was enough.
"Brother, no ... please don’t send away. I won’t survive without you. Without Jasper and Felix. Without Eira."
Tears brimd in his eyes —if not from emotion, then from dread.
However, Dylan stared at him, unmoved.
"Negotiation is a privilege. And you have done nothing to earn it ... ever."
Karl shook his head helplessly. "Big Brother, I ..."
At that instant, hurried footsteps approached from the corridor.
Karl turned to see Jasper and Felix arriving.
Their eyes t his, and they didn’t need to ask what had happened. The mont they received the ssage of help from Karl, they knew it.
"Why does he have to be so dumb and never learn his lesson?" Jasper murmured to Felix, shaking his head.
"If he learned that easily, he wouldn’t be Karl," Felix replied calmly as though he had long resigned to that fact.
They exchanged a look before turning back to Karl with quiet sympathy.
"Brother is sending away," Karl said desperately. "Quick. Help persuade him."
When neither spoke, Karl felt betrayed.
"I am your younger brother. Big brother is strict —but can’t you two be a little more accommodating?"
He turned to Felix.
"Did you promise to always protect when I was eight?"
Then to Jasper.
"And you ... you also said —"
Before he could say more, Jasper cut him off.
"None of us promised to protect you from Big Brother’s arrangents."
"Karl, if Big Brother is arranging sothing for you, it must be for your good," Felix said, persuading him to understand instead.
"You— I am your brother; how can you bear to see sent away? Am I so unloved by my brothers?"
Karl’s expression twisted into that of a deeply wronged child. He wanted to complain —to cry about being betrayed —but there was no one to complain to.
He had never felt the desperate need for a woman in the house until today. If only there had been a mother figure ... she wouldn’t have been this heartless. She would have protected him.
As if Felix had read his thoughts, he turned to Dylan.
"Brother, Karl is still young," he said softly. "Why not we give him one last chance to improve? Now that he knows what his action will lead to, he won’t repeat."
Hope flickered in Karl’s chest again.
"Yes," he said quickly, raising his three fingers. "I promise, I will be better from now on. Please don’t send away."
Dylan looked at him. Though his expression suggested consideration, his eyes remained indifferent.
"Yes, brother," Jasper also added, slipping his hands into his dress pants’ pocket. "Keeping him here would be safer. Otherwise, we won’t know what trouble he might cause away from us."
Karl wanted to protest that —but when Jasper gave him a aningful look, he held back, hiding a pout.
As long as he could stay ... nothing else mattered.
Dylan stood.
"This would be his last chance, then."
Karl nodded vigorously. "I promise."
Dylan didn’t nod in return. He rely gave him one final glance before turning to leave.
But just as he took a step away, a small hand reached out and tugged his sleeve.
"Dada ...I want to sll like Mama too."
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