A Father’s Belt and a Son’s Experint
The tip of Gary D’Aurelius’s cigarette darkened as it pressed into the dish. Smoke curled upward before fading between his fingers.
A wisp of smoke curled slowly skyward before fading into the golden glow inside the study. Into the air crept the quiet sll of aged tobacco mixed with waxed timber, an odor known well within these walls across many seasons.
A single tap of his fingers against the ashtray broke the silence.
Twice.
His eyes lifted next.
A slow grin ford across his face - yet stayed far from his gaze.
"Can’t you see for yourself if I made any money?"
Funny how he phrased it - just a throwaway line - but Julian felt the shift right away.
That mont landed like a spark on sothing fragile inside Gary D’Aurelius.
The stock market.
More specifically -
Gary’s losing streak in the stock market.
A shiver ran through the air, as if winter had slipped inside without knocking.
Out ca a soft creak as Gary eased the chair away from the table. The wood floor took his weight without protest.
He moved ahead, slow and steady, making his way to the entrance. Step by step, quiet but sure, he closed the distance. Not rushing, just proceeding, feet touching down one after another. The path led forward, so he followed without pause.
Julian blinked.
Wait.
Sothing about this situation felt... familiar.
Then -
"Click."
A key turned, sharp in the quiet room. tal clicked shut, cold against the wood. Stillness followed, broken only by that single snap. The lock held fast, sealing everything inside.
Julian swallowed.
Gary turned around slowly.
His tall figure cast a long shadow across the carpet as he approached the coat rack near the wall.
Then -
From his waist ca the leather strap, slow at first, then quick.
Out ca the leather strap, slipping loose through air like a warning sound. A slow hiss followed, sharp and cold.
Gary wrapped the belt around his hand once.
Then twice.
Then he started walking toward Julian.
A father’s belt.
A son’s back.
A legendary combination passed down through generations.
But this ti—
Sothing was different.
Julian’s eyes sparkled.
His expression wasn’t fearful.
It was... excited.
His face was practically glowing with anticipation.
Gary paused mid-step.
Why does this kid look happy?
But before he could analyze the situation further—
WHACK.
The belt ca down across Julian’s back.
A sharp sound echoed through the room.
Gary waited.
Normally, Julian would already be jumping around the room screaming.
But today—
Nothing.
Julian stood there calmly.
Not only that—
He was smiling.
A peaceful, satisfied smile.
Gary stared at him.
Then looked down at his belt.
Then back at his son.
Is there sothing wrong with my belt?
Gary raised his hand again.
WHACK.
Another strike.
Still nothing.
Julian remained perfectly calm.
His posture relaxed.
His expression serene.
It looked like he was enjoying a light massage rather than a beating.
Gary frowned deeply.
He raised the belt again and delivered a few more hits.
WHACK.
WHACK.
WHACK.
Still no reaction.
Julian simply stood there, smiling faintly.
Gary’s brow slowly furrowed.
A terrifying possibility appeared in his mind.
Or have I really gotten too old to discipline this kid?
At that mont, Julian spoke with genuine concern in his voice.
"Dad, have you had lunch?"
Gary froze.
Julian tilted his head slightly.
This Undestroyable Barrier Skill is damn effective.
Inside his mind, Julian was practically cheering.
With this skill active, the strikes from his father’s belt barely registered as pressure.
With this, Dad can’t hit anymore!
Facing Julian’s calm attitude—
Gary suddenly felt sothing was deeply wrong with his son.
Very wrong.
He slowly lowered the belt.
Then reattached it to his waist.
His eyes narrowed suspiciously.
Julian blinked.
Why did Dad suddenly look so worried?
Gary pulled out his phone.
Then dialed a number.
Julian suddenly felt a sense of danger.
"Dear," Gary said into the phone with a serious expression.
"Go find a psychiatrist."
Julian froze.
Gary continued calmly.
"I think our son has a ntal problem..."
Julian’s eyes widened.
What?!
He jumped up instantly.
"Dad!"
But Gary had already started walking toward the window, still speaking into the phone.
"Yes, yes... he’s smiling while being beaten. Completely calm. No reaction at all..."
Julian panicked.
He rushed toward the door.
"I’m not sick, Dad! I was just joking!"
He flung the door open and sprinted out of the study.
The sound of his footsteps echoed through the hallway as he fled.
Behind him, Gary slowly lowered his phone.
He stared toward the open doorway with a complicated expression.
"...This kid is getting stranger every year."
anwhile—
Julian had already escaped downstairs.
He slowed to a walk once he reached the main hall.
Then he stretched his arms and whistled casually.
Being able to take a hit from his father’s belt without feeling pain was quite impressive.
It seems the Tyrant System really ca through this ti.
With this—
His survival ability had increased dramatically.
From now on—
He wasn’t afraid of poison.
And he wasn’t afraid of beatings.
Julian humd happily as he walked through the large hall of the D’Aurelius residence.
The servants who saw him froze.
They watched as the young master skipped down the hallway.
One servant whispered nervously.
"Did... Young Master Julian take the wrong dicine today?"
Another servant whispered back.
"He looks too happy..."
A third servant looked horrified.
"Did the patriarch beat him too hard?"
No one dared ask directly.
Julian was still smiling to himself as he headed toward his room, planning to spend the rest of the evening relaxing like the lazy heir he proudly was.
But just as he approached the hallway near his bedroom—
He stopped.
Standing near the doorway was a beautiful girl wearing a maid uniform.
She wore thin-frad glasses, which added a faint air of aloof intelligence to her delicate and elegant face.
Her long green hair was tied neatly behind her head.
Her purple eyes shimred faintly beneath the soft lighting.
The maid uniform hugged her figure perfectly.
Her F-cup breasts pressed firmly against the fabric, creating a dangerously alluring silhouette.
Her waist was slender and elegant.
Below it, her hips curved outward gracefully.
Her long legs were wrapped in dark stockings that emphasized the shape of her thick thighs, while the maid skirt stopped just high enough to make those legs look even longer.
Her figure was extrely striking.
Even Julian had to admit—
She was only slightly inferior to Amara Ravenswood.
Julian blinked.
His eyes lingered for half a second.
Then another.
Then—
The girl gave a small, graceful bow.
"Hello, Young Master Julian."
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