NTR: Minor Villain Wants to Be the Main Villain - Chapter 83

Chapter 83: New Servants?!

“Oh, seems brother-in-laws think alike.”

Jin said with an exaggerated clap of his hands, turning to look at Chen with a grin that screamed mischief.

Artis raised an eyebrow.

‘What the fuck is he on about? Does he want to hit the booze too? At this hour?’

It wouldn’t be surprising coming from Chen. But one glance at the man told Artis that this wasn’t about some casual drinking.

Chen looked like he’d just gone twelve rounds with life and lost every single one.

The man had bags under his eyes big enough to pack for a vacation, his back was hunched like he’d aged a decade overnight, and his whole vibe screamed, “I need a goddamn break.” Honestly, if booze wasn’t his last resort, Artis wasn’t sure what was.

Jin, of course, was oblivious.

“Chen just told me we should visit the tavern. Apparently, he’s got some new… servants lined up for us.”

Artis froze, his eyebrow shooting higher than ever.

‘New servants? From the tavern? Oh, hell no. This smells like trouble marinated in stupidity.’

“Whores, brother-in-law?”

Artis deadpanned, cutting straight to the point because, honestly, he didn’t have the patience to beat around the bush.

Chen, to his credit, shook his head slowly, looking as though the very suggestion had physically drained him further.

“Not whores, brother-in-law.”

Chen said, with the straightest face a man who hadn’t slept in two weeks could muster.

“More like… skilled workers I met last night at the tavern. They had this radiance about them. And trust me, they’ve got skills. I’ve seen it myself. They’re from some faraway kingdom, looking for work here.”

Artis stared at him, his eyebrow twitching in disbelief.

‘Faraway kingdom? Radiance? Skills? At this hour? Chen, you gullible bastard, what fairy tale did you fall into last night?’

There was no way Artis was buying this nonsense.

Not from Chen, who looked like he’d been surviving on anxiety and cold leftovers for the past fortnight.

Sleep-deprived men weren’t exactly known for their razor-sharp judgment. And Artis had enough shit on his plate with the whole ginseng mission.

He wasn’t about to add “tavern rescue mission for radiant skilled workers” to the mix.

“Well,” Artis said, the corners of his mouth curling into a mischievous grin, “I suppose we should test these ‘skilled workers,’ right, young master?”

The devious suggestion hung in the air for a moment before Jin erupted in laughter, slapping his thigh so hard it echoed through the room.

The poor maids massaging his legs flinched, their hands trembling for a second before resuming their work.

Jin leaned back, his smirk matching Artis’s.

“Test them, huh? Now that’s the spirit! Let’s see if these radiant workers can live up to their reputation—or if Chen here just got swindled by a pair of tits and a sob story.”

Chen opened his mouth to protest, but Artis clapped him on the back.

“Don’t worry, brother-in-law. If they’re as good as you say, they’ll shine. And if they’re not… well, we’ll still get a show out of it.”

Jin slapped his hand on the armrest of his chair, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

“I was about to summon you for this, brother. No one knows how to test better than you. What do you say, Chen? Can your so-called ‘skilled worker’ buddies survive our tests, or are they all tits and no talent?”

Chen chuckled softly, shaking his head like a sage who had seen too much of the world—or at least too much of his wife’s cold shoulder.

“Whether they withstand it or not… that’s their problem.”

He said, his tone unnervingly calm, like a monk blessing the sacrificial lamb.

“Our first priority is to test them thoroughly. Who knows? They might be spies from some other kingdom. Especially now, during such a critical time. So, I say… test them thoroughly, young master. Test them thoroughly.”

The room went silent for a moment as Artis stared at Chen, trying to reconcile this serene, almost philosophical tone with the once-bold and slightly unhinged bastard he remembered.

‘What the fuck happened to him? Did his wife beat the boldness out of him, or has the couch life turned him into some weird, resigned sage of suffering?’

Jin, oblivious to the existential crisis brewing in Artis’s head, burst out laughing.

“Spies? From a faraway kingdom? Ha! Chen, you really have been sleeping on the couch for too long. But fine, we’ll test them. Thoroughly.”

His grin widened.

“And by ‘test,’ I mean we’re going to make them earn their spot. No half-assing it. We’ll see if they’re worth a damn—or if they’re just good for bouncing on laps.”

Artis rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smirking.

“Well, if they’re spies, they’re either really stupid or really bold to come here. But I’ll bite. Let’s ‘test’ them, young master. Thoroughly, of course.”

Chen nodded, his face the picture of calm resignation.

“Good. Just remember—no matter how radiant or skilled they seem, always look beyond the surface.”

Artis suppressed a laugh.

“Look beyond the surface? With all due respect, Chen, the only thing Jin’s looking at is the surface. And maybe the bounce factor.”

Jin grinned like a kid caught sneaking cookies.

“Guilty as charged! But hey, thorough testing means we leave no stone unturned. Or… unbounced.”

Artis sighed, already regretting the inevitable chaos this ‘testing’ was about to unleash.

‘So, Chen has no idea who these people were, huh?’

Artis mused, scratching his chin. He was still skeptical but curious enough to play along.

‘Let’s see who these so-called “skilled workers” are. Maybe this’ll be less of a shitshow than I expect—or maybe it’ll be worse. Knowing Jin, it’ll probably be worse.’

“Come on, brothers, let us conquer the tavern!”

Jin declared, leaping out of his seat with all the grace of a drunk monkey.

In his exuberance, the poor maids who’d been massaging his legs were sent sprawling to the floor with a thud. They scrambled to their knees, heads bowed like they’d offended the heavens.

Artis sighed, rubbing his temples.

‘Man, this guy’s just a walking caricature. A spoiled brat with a mom hot enough to turn saints into sinners and a sister who’s probably got a queue of drooling idiots outside her door. This family’s a goddamn drama factory.’

…

A short, bumpy ride later, the trio arrived at the tavern, flanked by an excessive number of guards. It looked less like a casual outing and more like a parade of overcompensation.

The tavern itself was no stranger to such chaos. The regulars barely batted an eye at the entourage.

They simply shifted in their seats, muttering about the latest display of privilege while sneaking glances at the spectacle, of course, all of it, only after a deep bow.

The owner, however, practically threw himself to the floor in his eagerness to greet them.

His back was bent so low it was a miracle his spine didn’t snap, and his grin stretched wide enough to make a snake blush.

“Young master Jin! Esteemed guests! Welcome, welcome! Your presence graces this humble establishment!”

Artis looked at the man’s groveling figure and fought the urge to roll his eyes.

‘Yeah, nothing screams “humble” like kissing Jin’s ass so hard your lips are permanently puckered.’

“Right this way, young master, right this way!”

The tavern owner crooned, stumbling over himself like a drunkard at his own wedding.

“Oii! You mangy shits, get out of the seat! That’s the young master’s usual! Move your asses! Can’t believe these fucking outsiders don’t know their place. Disgraceful.”

Artis followed behind, trying not to laugh at the man’s overeager bootlicking.

‘Goddamn, this guy’s got his tongue so far up Jin’s ass he’s practically tasting breakfast.’

Artis thought, smirking.

The tavern owner waved them toward a prime spot like he was offering a throne.

“Right here, sir. The finest seat for the finest patron! Apologies for the rabble; you know how it is with all these newcomers cluttering the place up.”

Artis tuned out the guy’s yammering. After all, it was obvious why the owner loved Jin so much.

The young master was a one-man economic stimulus package. Every time he swaggered in, business boomed.

He’d toss out coins and booze like confetti when he was in the mood, turning the place into a mini-festival.

The regulars? They ate it up. Free drinks, wild antics, and a chance to bask in the glow of Jin’s ridiculous generosity.

They kept coming back, hoping to ride the wave of his next drunken splurge. It was a self-sustaining cycle of chaos and profit—a win-win for everyone, except maybe the furniture.

Artis glanced at the battered tables and the suspiciously mismatched chairs.

‘Yeah, that’s definitely the aftermath of Jin’s last visit. Probably had a “Who can smash the table fastest” contest again.’

Still, the owner didn’t seem to mind. Broken glass, shattered furniture, and occasional drunken brawls were just part of the package.

As long as Jin kept the coin flowing, the man would probably let them set the place on fire and call it “renovation.”