Chapter 15: The Servants' Association
After finishing a portion of grilled bacon, two fried eggs, and a piece of buttered toast, Rolls finally felt his stomach settle. For Rolls, the most uncomfortable part of his transmigration was the food—especially breakfast.
In the Kingdom of Loen, breakfast was perpetually the same few items: toast, bread, bacon, fried eggs, and butter. It was monotonous and repetitive, and after just one month, Rolls was already growing tired of it.
He picked up a white porcelain coffee cup and took a sip. The drowsiness brought on by a full stomach dissipated instantly. He was drinking Filmer coffee from the Paz Valley—extremely bitter, but incredibly refreshing. It had been his predecessor's best companion while staying up late to review case files.
Walking out of the restaurant, Rolls saw the carriage he had just hired parked across the street. Seeing Rolls emerge, the coachman immediately urged the brown horse forward.
The coachman expertly brought the horse to a halt, hopped down, and inquired:
"Where to, sir?"
"To Cherwood Borough, Kanarowill Street first."
"Understood, sir."
Once Rolls boarded the carriage, Fitch—the coachman dressed in a three-piece suit—expertly snapped his whip, driving the carriage eastward.
Inside the carriage, Rolls removed his soft felt hat and placed it on his knees. His first destination today was No. 9 Kanarowill Street in Cherwood Borough: the "Metropolitan Domestic Servants' Assistance Association." He intended to hire a new butler to help manage his garden villa.
The previous night, after tossing and turning in bed for a long while due to hunger, Rolls had finally decided to hire a butler and a corresponding staff of servants. His predecessor had been a workaholic who often treated the law firm as his home. While not hiring servants might seem suspicious, it was barely justifiable given that lifestyle.
When Rolls first transmigrated, he prioritized caution and avoiding mistakes, so he had been happy to keep things simple and forgo hiring staff. Later, he worried that the Law of Beyonder Characteristic Convergence would turn his home into a gathering spot for "traitors" and trouble—much like Klein's experience—so he followed his predecessor's lead by living at the firm and eating all his meals there.
However, Rolls's current choice was the result of careful deliberation:
First, he couldn't keep living like his predecessor, handling cases daily and living at the office. For the sake of his own life, he certainly couldn't continue his work as a lawyer for the foreseeable future.
Since he had decided to drop a portion of his legal work, he could no longer use "being busy" as an excuse to avoid hiring servants. Since he would have to take this step sooner or later, it was better to settle it early so he could live more comfortably. He didn't want to go to sleep on an empty stomach ever again.
Secondly, he had to consider his future path. Whether he eventually chose the "Arbiter" or "Black Emperor" pathway, both were inherently linked to the establishment of rules. High-sequence powerhouses of these pathways were either emperors or high-ranking figures of great authority; only such status could provide the necessary feedback for "acting."
To interact with the great aristocrats, various banquets, balls, and salons were the best venues. Hosting such events at his own home would involve wine, food, and service—making a qualified butler and staff an absolute necessity.
Particularly the butler; the position itself had evolved from the role of a cupbearer. The wine cellars of nobles and the wealthy were generally under the direct supervision of the butler or a senior assistant.
...
Inside the hall of No. 9 Kanarowill Street, the Metropolitan Domestic Servants' Assistance Association.
Delia, wearing a ruffled long dress with her blonde hair pinned up, was talking in low tones to Belin, a newcomer who had just started working at the association.
Just then, she saw Rolls walk in. She quickly ended the conversation, stood up, and asked with a smile:
"How should I address you, sir? Is there anything I can help you with?"
Beside her, Belin—also in a ruffled dress but with her hair pulled back neatly—stood up immediately, keeping her head lowered as she listened to the exchange.
"Rolls. Rolls Adrian," Rolls said to the two ladies in a gentle tone. "No need to be nervous. I simply wish to hire a butler. I'm sure you can help me with that, right?"
"We will certainly find the most suitable butler for you, Mr. Adrian. Please wait a moment in the reception area."
Delia didn't overpromise or claim she would recommend the "best" butler; she knew that for someone like Rolls, "suitable" was the highest priority. She gave Belin a light nudge, signaling her to lead Rolls to the seating area.
As if snapping out of a daze, Belin said hurriedly:
"Mr. Adrian, please follow me."
Belin led Rolls to the reception area and gestured toward a fabric sofa.
Rolls maintained a faint smile on his face, one that felt approachable without being overly familiar. This was the result of a month of practice; a lawyer's ability to appear likable required constant refinement.
Once Rolls was seated, Belin asked with a smile:
"Mr. Adrian, would you like a cup of coffee or black tea?"
Having just consumed a cup of incredibly bitter Filmer coffee, Rolls said without hesitation:
"A cup of Queen's black tea, with a few slices of lemon."
Hearing this, Belin felt a bit helpless. The coffee and tea provided for guests at the association were of average quality—lower-middle tier, really. Adding lemon slices was doable, but they certainly didn't have Queen's black tea.
Rolls realized his mistake immediately after speaking. He wasn't at a high-end restaurant or his law firm. He said apologetically:
"A regular black tea will be fine. I just had a cup of Filmer."
What a considerate gentleman, Belin thought admiringly. She asked with a smile:
"Mr. Adrian, how about a cup of Marquis black tea?"
This was from Belin's private stash that she brought from home. Her family was well-off, and she only worked here to pass the time.
Rolls understood this was likely the lady's personal collection and thanked her:
"I cannot refuse such an offer."
"Please wait a moment."
She walked briskly back to the reception desk, picked up her silver-inlaid tin canister, and expertly began brewing the tea.
"Mr. Adrian, I'm sorry to keep you waiting. I hope Belin didn't offend you?"
Delia walked over gracefully. She had overheard bits of the conversation and was worried the newcomer might have slighted the guest.
Rolls noticed Belin biting her lip nervously at the reception desk and replied:
"Not at all. I am very satisfied with Miss Belin's service."
Hearing this, the smile returned to Belin's face.
"Then, Mr. Adrian, what kind of butler are you looking for?"