"He's alive! He's fuc***g alive! Move away! Give him some space!" A low baritone voice shouted.
Instantly 4 figures moved away from the rousing body. Slowly, his eyelids trembled, and gradually opened, revealing two crystal blue eyes that stared blankly at the ceiling. As his eyes started to focus, Noah found himself staring at a towering figure that stood before him.
The man was huge. His stature easily reached 3 meters in height, looming over Noah. His hair was blonde, tied into a rough bun, with streaks of white interlaced, belying the man's advanced age. His features were of European descent, with ice blue eyes and a hook-like nose. A large scar ran across his aged visage, Starting from the left side of his temple and culminating at the right of his jaw. However it was partially covered by his large and thick beard, that was braided at the end with a simple knot. This countenance gave the man a wild look, savage almost. Juxtaposed with his clean white silk buttoned shirt that was two sizes too small and his elaborate cufflinks made for a rather odd sight.
Despite his obvious distress, he spoke calmly and softly to Noah, "How are you feeling Noah? Any discomfort?" Staring back at the man, Noah was confused. Who the hell was this guy? Wasn't he showering a moment ago? What the hell was he doing in bed?
Looking around, Noah took in the sights of the room he was in. It was not a large room, about 10 meters in diameter, but it was filled with all manner of things. In the far corner sat a vanity table, bereft of most things except a few combs placed in a short vase. The walls designed in a typical Victorian styled ornamentation, complete with wainscoting and cornices, and punctuated with wall sconces complete with lit candle lamps. Tapestries depicting large animals such as bears and other mythical creatures accompanied the walls, breaking up the monotonous Victorian design. The floor made of wood, with the occasional animal pelt placed on the floor like a rug.
Looking up, the white curtains on the canopy of his bed gave way to a fantastic mural on the ceiling. Creatures of all kinds surrounded a large man in the centre, who had a piece of black cloth covering his eyes. However where one of his arms should have been was a wing-like appendage, it's white feathers flaring outwards. The mural was beautiful, if not slightly disturbing.
As Noah stared more intently at the mural, The man spoke once again, more forcefully and firm this time.
"Noah? Can you understand what I am saying? Can. You. Hear. Me."
"Uhh... Are you talking.. to, uh, me?"
"Of course I am talking to you! Who else would I be talking to except my damn son if it's not you! Or have you forgotten that you are Noah Bevier?!"
It was at this moment that Noah realized that he had probably taken over the body of a poor chap that had the same name as him. Thinking back, he did remember that he had indeed slipped on a bar of soap and fell, likely to his death, before transmigrating here.
Noah smiled. Due to the boring nature of the job as a Convenience store employee, he often read novels from Webnovel to while his time away. In particular, he read many novels where the MC would transmigrate to another dimension of and become the hero of the world, Obtaining cheat-like abilities and triumphing over evil. Along the way, he would pick up a crew of beautiful girls that would cheer him one and maybe, even...
As Noah smiled stupidly and even started giggling to himself, Lord Garoth's anger reached boiling point.
"NOAH ELLIOT BEVIER! WHAT IN TOR'S NAME ARE YOU LAUGHING ABOUT!?! YOU THINK ITS FUC***G FUNNY TO SCARE YOU OLD MAN LIKE THAT? YOU ALMOST FUC***G DIED, YOU WORTHLESS SON OF MINE!"
"Erm actually, he did die, your lordship. He was-"
"SHUT THE FUC* UP, I WASN'T TALKING TO YOU. AND HOW DARE YOU CURSE MY SON! HE'S FUC***G FINE AND DANDY! YOU WANT ME TO BEAT YOU UP?!?"
He roared at the physician, causing him to shy away. Lord Garoth turned back to his son, seething with rage, "NOAH, you stupid son of mine... Can you bloody STOP THINKING ABOUT FUC***G HARLOTS FOR ONE GODDAMN FUC***G MINUTE AND THINK ABOUT YOUR LIFE?!?"
Moving closer, Lord Garoth pinched one of Noah's spindly arms with 2 fingers and chided:"Look at how skinny and pathetic these arms are! They probably can't even lift a dainty sow! At your age I was wrestling full grown bears the size of carriages! And what have you done? Waste our dwindling wealth on, on fuc***g HARLOTS! You can't even hold a conversation without thinking about them! That's it. I'm done with your shit. I'm taking away your allowance, effective IMMEDIATELY. If you want to fuc***g eat, you come back here and Muriel will serve you some gruel to eat. From now on, you don't get any fuc***g money until I see some improvement." Instructed Lord Garoth.
"Son, don't look at me and complain that it's not fair. Let me be frank with you: You don't have any good points. Yes, I know it is due to a congenital disease. But you must understand that others will not be so... understanding, of your condition. Life is cruel and unforgiving. Outside the walls of the city of Lond is a vicious and untamed world, where the strong eat the weak. I am not asking for much; I just want you to be responsible enough to take care of yourself. I want to have some level of assurance that when I die, my son will be able to live a comfortable life with whatever money I leave with you." With that, Lord Garoth turned to leave the room.
Noah stared at the large back of his 'father', whose figure was deflating slightly. His straight back started to hunch over, as if signaling to the world that he was no longer the man he was, he was getting older, weaker.
Noah was genuinely upset. What kind of person did he transmigrate to? How pathetic must he be for a strong father like HIM to be so beaten down? Damn! Did he steal the body of a foppish dandy? What about my dreams of becoming a hero and my harem of girls? Noah despaired, looking down at his bloodied chest.
Just as he heard the door click shut, One of the individuals still left in Noah's chambers sat up and shouted "Lord Garoth! Lord Garoth! Your son is a medical miracle! He clearly died from stabbing but came back from the dead! Oh and my fee, my medical fee!!" Chasing after Lord Garoth, the physician ran out of the room and slammed the door shut.
Noah looked at the 2 remaining individuals within the room, which upon closer inspection were 2 old ladies in their silver years, dressed in a typical maids garb, complete with a headdress. Both approached Noah, one speaking, "Young master Noah, now that you are better, would you like to take a bath? You have not taken one since you have arrived."
Noah flinched visibly when he heard the word 'bath'. As the leading cause of his death, he was disinclined to take another one so quickly. However glancing down to reveal his blood-soaked clothes and touching his sweaty forehead, it would seem insane to not take a bath. "Err.. Umm, will you two ladies be helping me... uh.. take a bath?" Noah asked.
Noah reasoned that if someone else was with him while he took a bath, they would be able to pull him out of danger if another bathroom mishap were to occur.
"Why of course we will! Edna and I were assigned as your personal maids, and as such we need to fulfill our duties and that includes bathing the young master. Oh you must be talking about Edna right? While she might be new, she will still be able to perform her services perfectly. Unfortunately after you... assaulted, Bailey, she was unwilling to continue as your personal maid, young master." One of the maids said, looking contemptuously at Noah.
'Wow' Noah thought, 'The previous owner must have been a piece of work... Even assaulting his- oh wait, my personal maid....' So with some slight reluctance, Noah limped towards the bathroom, supported by his two maids....