Transmigrated into Eroge as the Simp, but I Refuse This Fate - Chapter 293: I drive (2)

Chapter 293: I drive (2)

“However, Master Dominic has contacted you.”

Damien’s gaze sharpened, flicking quickly to Elysia’s calm expression.

“Father?” he echoed, voice tightening slightly. “When?”

“Twenty minutes ago. He expects a return call tonight.”

Damien nodded slightly, a small flicker of satisfaction crossing his expression. It was subtle, but meaningful—Dominic waiting patiently rather than demanding immediate attention marked a change. If it had been before, his father would have forced the call, regardless of Damien’s schedule or company. The simple act of waiting showed something had shifted.

Respect.

Or at least acknowledgment.

Damien’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, and without glancing away from the road, he spoke calmly to the car’s built-in AI.

“Connect me to Dominic Elford.”

“Calling Dominic Elford,” the AI’s crisp voice responded immediately, filling the cabin with a gentle hum as the call established.

It connected swiftly.

“Damien,” Dominic’s deep voice filled the car, composed but formal as always. “Good evening.”

“Evening, Father,” Damien responded casually, tone level yet relaxed.

A brief pause. Damien heard the subtle shift, the slight tightening in Dominic’s voice when he spoke again.

“You are… in a car?” Dominic asked, his voice measured but edged with faint disapproval. “And you’re driving?”

Damien’s lips curled slightly, feeling rather than seeing his father’s narrowed eyes.

“Father,” he said smoothly, voice carefully respectful yet faintly teasing, “didn’t Mother tell you?”

Dominic went silent for a heartbeat, then sharply exhaled. His voice came clipped with realization. “Mother? Don’t tell me—”

“Yes,” Damien said, cutting in calmly, enjoying the moment. “Mother taught me how to drive yesterday.”

Dominic’s sigh of understanding carried clearly over the connection. “So that’s where you two were yesterday evening.”

Damien allowed a faint grin to tug at his mouth. “Exactly.”

Dominic was silent again, clearly weighing the implications. Damien imagined the slight crease in his father’s brow, the controlled irritation blending with reluctant acceptance.

Finally, Dominic exhaled slowly. “We’ll discuss this further when you return.”

Damien’s smirk faltered slightly, replaced by a subtle sharpening of his gaze. His voice dipped lower, suddenly more cautious. “When I return?”

“Yes,” Dominic confirmed evenly, no hesitation in his tone. “You will come directly to Elford Mansion now.”

“Why?” Damien asked, voice steady but questioning, the playful edge fading into seriousness. He kept his eyes on the road, but his grip on the wheel tightened imperceptibly.

“Your reservation for the Cradle and everything surrounding it is nearly ready,” Dominic explained, voice firm yet calm. “It’s time for you to get thoroughly prepared for that.”

Damien’s brow furrowed faintly, parsing his father’s careful phrasing. He hesitated, just long enough for Dominic’s voice to cut in again, this time softer but no less commanding.

“Thoroughly prepared, you mean…?” Damien prompted, already knowing what was coming.

Dominic’s voice held a rare, unmistakable authority—a tone reserved for moments when the stakes weren’t just personal but critical to their family legacy.

“Yes,” Dominic stated flatly, voice dropping slightly as though wary of listeners. “I will personally be teaching you everything you need to know. I will ensure you’re completely ready. Normally, I would have informed Father, but currently, he is still in seclusion.”

Damien exhaled softly, mind racing.

Seclusion.

His grandfather—a looming presence who rarely emerged from isolation except for moments that demanded intervention—being unreachable meant Dominic had absolute authority now. And Dominic’s training would be comprehensive, demanding, relentless.

Necessary.

Damien knew it was inevitable. A rite of passage, preparation for something far bigger than he’d faced yet.

“Understood, Father,” Damien replied, voice steady but tempered with genuine respect. This was no longer a game or playful exchange; it was family legacy. “I’ll head directly there.”

“Good,” Dominic responded simply, satisfaction evident in his clipped response. “I’ll await your arrival.”

Damien allowed a smirk to slip through, the edge of playful defiance returning to his voice as he answered Dominic.

“You won’t be waiting long, Father.”

Dominic paused, clearly caught off guard. “What do you mean—”

But Damien had already cut the connection, his finger tapping lightly against the wheel as silence reclaimed the cabin. His eyes shifted slightly, landing squarely on Elysia.

She met his gaze immediately. Even in her typically composed and unreadable expression, Damien could detect a faint shadow of concern—almost imperceptible, but undeniably there. It was a subtle shift in her eyes, a quiet acknowledgment of what was ahead.

After all, the Cradle of Primordials was not something to be taken lightly. Ever.

Elysia’s lips parted slightly, voice steady but softer than usual. “Master…”

Damien’s smirk lingered, though tempered by the gravity of the moment. “Are you going to ask me if I’m sure as well?”

Her gaze remained fixed, unwavering. “No,” she said quietly. “I just wish you the best of luck.”

Damien chuckled softly, feeling a genuine warmth behind his smirk. “Heh…”

Then, without further hesitation, he pressed his foot sharply into the throttle. The vehicle roared, the electric motors humming aggressively as the chassis tensed beneath them. It wasn’t a sports car—just a refined, everyday driver—but the acceleration was still fierce enough to pin them slightly against the plush seats.

The city blurred past in streaks of neon and steel, the sound of the engine’s protest echoing Damien’s unspoken resolve.

He was ready.

Or he would be, soon enough.

******

The Elford Mansion rose before Damien like a fortress carved into elegance—cold, stately, and grand in the way only old power could be. As the car approached, its sleek hum gave way to a sharper growl, the engine resonating through the vast front courtyard with enough force to rattle the gates—not from volume, but from intent.

The system recognized the plates immediately.

With a smooth click, the wrought-iron gates parted, allowing the vehicle to coast forward.

Lights guided the path toward the inner estate, each one flaring briefly as Damien passed, illuminating the carefully trimmed hedges and statues that lined the drive. The mansion loomed ahead, framed by dark marble columns and a wall of glass that reflected the dim evening sky.

He didn’t hesitate.

The tires kissed the pavement as he slowed to a halt in the central courtyard, just outside the east wing. The moment the car settled into park, the garage bay nearest him opened in sync—silent, precise. Damien slid the vehicle inside and stepped out without a glance back.

Boots on stone, coat swinging faintly behind him, he moved toward the main entrance.

The front doors opened just as he reached them.

“Welcome back, Master Damien,” came the voice of the butler—an older man, dressed in deep charcoal livery, standing tall with a faint bow.

Damien returned the gesture with a nod, brushing past without slowing.

“Is he in his office?”

“Yes, sir. He’s been waiting for you.”

Damien didn’t respond. He already knew.

The halls of Elford Mansion absorbed his steps without echo. Ornate but not excessive, every corner of the estate was polished down to its bones—clean lines, tempered steel in its veins.

As he turned the final corner, he slowed—not from nerves, but anticipation.

The office door stood open.

Dominic sat behind a broad desk of blackwood and alloy, angled slightly toward the evening light slanting in through the high window. He wasn’t reading, nor typing.

He was watching.

Dominic’s gaze locked onto Damien, hard and unwavering, his eyes narrowing sharply as the younger Elford stepped through the office doorway.

“You’ve got guts, Damien,” he said, voice coldly amused, “pulling something like that right in front of my face.”

Damien paused, lips twitching slightly. His tone remained light, almost playful, even under his father’s intense scrutiny. “I thought Mother talked to you about this.”

Dominic’s expression remained firm, but his jaw tightened subtly. “Your mother did indeed inform me,” he confirmed crisply, voice tight with restrained irritation. “However, she specifically mentioned you wouldn’t be driving in traffic. Certainly not at such speed.”

Damien’s smile spread just a bit wider—an easy expression tinged with the faintest edge of defiance. “Well, Father… I’m just like that.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by novlove.com