The car assigned by Lucius pulled up in front of Wayne Manor. Gravel crunched under the wheels as the driveway lights bathed the steps in a warm glow.
Sebastian got out first, striding confidently around the vehicle. He opened the rear door with the elegance befitting his role.
Dick got out of the car, leaning slightly towards him as he murmured with a mischievous smile,
"Good luck, Sebastian."
And without waiting for an answer, he straightened up and walked up the steps to the entrance.
Up above, Alfred waited, as upright and unfazed as ever.
"Young Master Richard, dinner is set on the table. Please don't let it get cold. I'll be with you in a moment."
Richard nodded and slipped inside.
Alfred then turned his gaze to Sebastian... and his eyes rolled, almost immediately, to the parked car. There were no dents or dings, but it wasn't the BMW that had left the mansion that morning. A sober executive sedan, too different.
He said nothing, although the silence spoke for itself.
Finally, he turned to Sebastian and gestured slightly inside.
"There's food prepared for you in the kitchen, too."
Sebastian sighed quietly and walked toward the door. As he passed Alfred, he heard a whisper so low he thought he imagined it:
"I'm glad you're okay."
Sebastian stopped, confused. He turned his head slightly, but all he saw was Alfred's straight, imperturbable back, still standing on the stairs, looking down the long path leading to the exit from Wayne Compound.
Did I imagine it? Sebastian thought, gently shaking his head. It must be fatigue.
He entered the mansion, and as he turned down a hallway, he couldn't help but notice something that made him smile. The toe of a shoe was sticking awkwardly out from behind a corner.
Curious, he thought. Young Master Richard can't handle the intrigue.
He decided to ignore him and continued on his way to the kitchen.
The kitchen was spotless, as always. A steaming plate awaited him on the table, freshly served with the precision of someone who had calculated the exact time of its arrival. It was obvious: Alfred had already received the information from Lucius when they left the company and had synchronized everything to the minute.
Sebastian sat silently, the only sound being the faint creaking of the wooden chair. The dish in front of him was nothing extraordinary: a beef stew with vegetables, accompanied by toast and a glass of cold water. Ordinary, no-nonsense food.
He had eaten dishes like this countless times during his military service. Hot rations in collective mess halls, improvised stews at remote bases. Nothing new.
And yet, this one tasted different. Each spoonful warmed his body as if he were in the middle of winter and had just entered a shelter. The flavor, though simple, made him feel uncomfortably… at home.
He frowned and shook his head, as if trying to banish those thoughts. Nonsense. It's just tiredness.
He finished eating with military efficiency, lined up his cutlery, and stood up. He washed the dishes, wiped the table, and set about his pending tasks. The trip with Richard had taken longer than expected, and the day wasn't over yet.
He took out his mental checklist and walked through the halls, ready to take care of the daily routine. But as he checked every room, every corner of the mansion… everything was already done. The dusting had been swept. The plants had been watered. The clothes had been put in their proper place.
Sebastian pressed his lips together and sighed.
"…Shit. Alfred stole my points."
The system, as if to confirm it, popped up a cold notification at the edge of his vision:
[Daily tasks completed by another protocol member. Points not credited.]
Sebastian closed his eyes, holding back his frustration, and slumped against the wall.
That old man… seems to be doing it on purpose.
When Sebastian approached the dining room, he found the table almost empty. Richard had finished dinner and disappeared without a trace. Only Alfred remained there, upright, clearing away the last of the dishes with the same precision as always.
Sebastian saw his opportunity and, without saying anything, leaned over to grab a couple of plates from the table. At least I'll be able to scratch off a couple of points, he thought.
Alfred's gaze immediately lifted, his brow barely furrowed.
"Sebastian, I thought I told you to go to the kitchen."
"That's right," Sebastian replied, without pausing, carefully stacking the cutlery on the trolley. "The food wasn't bad, by the way."
Alfred simply responded flatly:
"Nothing special. Just a quick thing."
"I know." Sebastian raised his eyebrows almost defiantly.
"So why haven't you retired yet?"*"
"After lunch," Sebastian explained calmly, "I headed off to do my homework. But they were already booked up."
Alfred showed no reaction. Not a blink, not a sigh.
"Then…" Sebastian continued, this time with a slight smile. "Since you helped me with my homework, allow me to do the same."
The clinking of china filled the dining room as Sebastian stacked the plates quickly and easily. Alfred watched him with that impassive gaze of his until, finally, he spoke in a low but firm tone:
"You know, I was doing those activities long before you came. They're not your tasks as such. I spent many years doing them… effortlessly."
Sebastian didn't stop, continuing to balance the glasses perfectly on the tray. His calm voice broke the silence:
"Oh, I know. More than twenty-four years, right?"
Alfred fell silent immediately. There was no reproach in Sebastian's tone, but the words were sharp. The veteran butler watched him as he pushed the trolley toward the kitchen, his back straight and his stride confident.
For the first time in a long time, Alfred didn't respond.
Without waiting for a reply, Sebastian pushed the cart and left the dining room for the kitchen. The china clinked softly with each step, while Alfred watched him, silent, his back straight as always but slightly shorter than usual.
The kitchen was lit by a warm light, and the dish trolley sat next to the sink. Sebastian began to wash them silently, with meticulous, firm movements. It wasn't long before he felt Alfred's presence at his side: he had taken a cloth and, without saying anything, began drying each each dish Sebastian had left behind.
There was no conversation. Just the sound of running water, the scraping of porcelain, and the soft clinking of cutlery as it gently touched each other. Everyone worked in perfect coordination, as if they had shared this routine for years and it wasn't just the first time.
The plates were stacked neatly, aligned precisely. The cutlery was dry and tidy, shining in the light. The silence wasn't awkward… but it wasn't peaceful either. It was dense, filled with what neither of them allowed themselves to say.
When they were finished, Alfred folded the cloth and placed it on the counter. He broke the silence in a low, firm voice:
"I won't be doing your work anymore. From now on... they'll be yours."
Sebastian held his gaze for a few seconds before responding, dry and direct:
"Thank you."
He turned around and walked through the kitchen, disappearing down the hall toward his room, leaving the echo of his footsteps behind him.
When Sebastian reached his room, he sank down onto the bed for a moment, exhaling the day's weariness. The silence in the room was broken when a translucent screen appeared before his eyes:
[Steward Protocol – Activity Log]
Driving a Wayne Family Member → +2 pts
Correctly presented coffee service → +1 pt
Support and advice to a member of the Wayne Family → +3 pts
Intervention in attempted kidnapping of a member of the Wayne Family → +15 pts
Compliance with the Head of Household rule (Avoid lethality) → +5 pts
Impress a member of the Wayne Family and gain recognition → +30 pts
Support for family breakfast → +1 pt
Shared cleaning with Alfred → +2 pts
Total obtained in the day: +59 pts
A second notification flashed in the center of the screen:
[Due to outstanding demonstration of skill in high-risk situations, one of your skills has automatically increased without the need for point investment.]
Sebastian raised an eyebrow and smiled wryly.
"Well… at least someone acknowledges today's work."
He stood up, stripped off his suit, and headed to the shower. The hot water brought some life back into his tense muscles, washing away the dirt and fatigue of the day.
Later, now clean and lightly dressed, he returned to his bed. He took a book from the nightstand and opened it, ready to read for a while before sleeping. The system screen was still floating in the air, waiting for him to check its updated stats.
[Main Skills]
Close Combat → Officer (32/250) [+]
Melee Weapons → Officer (20/250) [+]
Firearms → Expert (55/500) [+]
Tactical Driving → Officer (112/250) [+]
Survival and Logistics → Officer (40/250) [+]
Field Medicine → Apprentice (80/100) [+]
[Secondary Skills]
Cooking → Apprentice (60/100) [+]
Etiquette and Manners → Officer (4/250) [+]
Basic Mechanics → Apprentice (25/100) [+]
Interior Maintenance and Cleaning → Apprentice (25/100) [+]
[Latent Abilities]
Dance and Coordination → Apprentice (5/100) [+]
Stage Magic → Apprentice (0/100) [+]
Languages → Apprentice (10/100) [+]
Available Points: 76
Sebastian closed the screen and slumped back against the bed, holding the open book. A residual notification appeared at the edge of his vision:
[Passive Perk: Sleep Resistance. The user can reduce their need for rest by half without suffering any negative effects.]
Sebastian gave a dry laugh.
"Fantastic… the perfect slave. They don't even let me sleep like a normal human being."
He turned a page in the book roughly, muttering under his breath,
"I don't know whether to call it luck or a curse… probably the latter."
He sighed deeply, resigned. The clock ticked slowly, and the mansion was plunged into a deathly silence. While Bruce was still out on his nightly rounds, he remained faithful to protocol, reading by the dim lamplight, with the bitter certainty that the system had already anticipated every aspect of his life.
The next two days passed without any major incidents. Gotham was still Gotham, but at Wayne Manor, routine was slowly taking hold.
Sebastian devoted his time to the basic tasks assigned to him: cleaning the hallways, keeping some rooms tidy, and tending to the garden as little as necessary. These were simple duties compared to what he had faced in his past life, but they were part of the training he had to undergo.
From that night in the kitchen on, Alfred never performed those tasks for him again. The message had been clear: they were his responsibility, and he had to fulfill them.
At breakfast, lunch, and dinner, Sebastian became Alfred's assistant. He wasn't the one in charge or organizing anything, as the veteran butler still controlled every detail with his usual perfection. However, he did allow him to assist with the service: setting the table, serving dishes, and clearing trays.
To Sebastian, it might have seemed like a trivial task after having faced weapons and battlefields, but with every gesture he learned the meticulous discipline Alfred demanded. A simple mistake in the placement of a fork was enough to earn him a stern look.
Bruce, true to form, didn't comment. He just watched from his seat, silently assessing the situation and occasionally smiling when no one else was paying attention. Richard, for his part, seemed amused by the seriousness of the matter, though he didn't say anything so as not to earn Alfred's reprimand.
At the same time, Sebastian also assisted Richard, accompanying him on his daily commute and acting as a driver when necessary. He was present on every scheduled outing, ensuring the journeys ran smoothly and always remaining available to attend to any needs during the day.