Those footsteps definitely belonged to his mother—there was no way he mistaking it.
The incident from the novel was about to unfold, and this time, Rocco needed to play his part perfectly.
He'd been slacking off earlier, but now was the time for him to get serious.
His chest tightened with anxious anticipation, but he forced himself to calm his nerves and squashing down his presence like a shadow.
Peeking out from the bushes, Rocco quietly observed Sylas, who stood up by the lake while gazing silently at the water.
Eventually, Sylas noticed the sound of footsteps, and his head turned sharply toward the source.
"Oh my, Sylas. What are you doing in a place like this?"
As expected, Rocco's mother emerged into view.
She didn't seem to notice Rocco at all, he was likely assuming that no one else would be in such an isolated location.
Without even glancing around, she strode confidently toward Sylas.
Wow, Rocco thought with a grimace, she's really the perfect example of an incompetent, low-level villain.
"…."
Still, there was something unsettling about the scene.
Maybe it was the angle, or the way the sunlight and shadows overlapped, but Rocco couldn't quite make out Sylas's expression.
Sylas remained completely silent, not uttering a single word in response to his mother's arrival.
That alone was enough for Rocco to assume Sylas wasn't exactly thrilled to see her.
He furrowed his brows, a bitter unease settling over him.
He had to wait.
He couldn't act until Sylas realized his mother's malicious intent.
Protecting Sylas from his mother was the top priority, but at the same time, Rocco needed Sylas to feel indebted to him—to remember that his younger brother had saved him.
So Rocco had to hold back.
He had to wait just a little longer, biding his time until their mother revealed her malice toward Sylas.
That was when he would make his move.
"…What is with that insolent attitude? You're truly repulsive. Utterly disgusting."
The smile on their mother's face twisted abruptly into a hateful sneer.
What?! Already?!
Rocco froze in shock.
This soon?
He had thought there would be at least a few polite words exchanged before her venomous words came out.
But his mother shifted into insult mode far earlier than expected, throwing him off.
While Rocco stood there, stunned and motionless, his mother escalated her rage, her voice rising as she flung her next words at Sylas.
"—You should have died along with your real mother!"
What?!
Rocco's eyes widened, his temper flaring.
How dare that villainous woman say something like that to her own child!
That's it!
Even though this was happening a little earlier than planned, Rocco decided he couldn't let this go on a second longer.
He had to step in and save Sylas.
Just as he was about to rise like a hero ready to leap into action, his mother's next words froze him in place once again.
"—If it weren't for you, Rocco would've taken the heir's position, and I would have effortlessly won your father favor!"
Wha—!
Rocco's jaw dropped.
Don't drag my name into this, you awful woman!
Suddenly being thrown into the middle of his mother's hateful tirade, Rocco flailed internally, panicking with a mix of anger and confusion.
Wait.
Does she say stuff like this to Sylas all the time?
If so, this was bad.
Rocco had just realized something even more troubling: If his mother constantly blamed Sylas and used him as part of her insults, then Sylas might already resent him—deeply.
That would mean all of Rocco's previous efforts, like during the shrimp incident, were meaningless.
If the seeds of bitterness had already been planted by his mother, then no matter what Rocco did, it might not make a difference.
The careful plans he had made, the strategies he had worked so hard to come up with—all of it might have been for nothing.
Rocco stole a quick, nervous glance at Sylas.
As before, Sylas's expression was hidden in shadow, making it impossible to read.
His silence, however, was unnerving.
Does he hate me?
Rocco wondered anxiously.
How am I supposed to know?!
With Sylas's emotions so unclear, there was no way to tell if he already held a grudge against Rocco or not.
And that uncertainty gnawed at him.
Well, if that's the case, there was no helping it.
Now that he knew the risks, staying idle any longer would only be dangerous.
"…Georgio."
Rocco murmured Georgio's name, his voice low and uncertain.
Despite the faint whisper, Georgio caught it immediately.
In a matter of seconds, he was by Rocco's side, tilting his head with that ever-familiar sweet smile.
"What is it, Master?"
Georgio always acted the same, no matter the situation.
The casual demeanor brought Rocco a small sense of relief as he whispered back,
"The plan might fail. Can you get ready?"
"…! Got it, got it! I'm on it!"
Georgio's face lit up as though he'd just been given the best news in the world.
He smiled widely—almost unsettlingly so—before dashing off somewhere, disappearing in an instant.
Rocco silently watched him go before took a breath and rising to his feet.
Whether or not he could gain Sylas's gratitude or favor didn't matter anymore.
Even if he failed to win him over, it wasn't the end of the world.
He couldn't hesitate any longer.
After all, he still had his trump card—Georgio.
Everything would be fine.
If things went bad, Georgio would surely save the day.
So… here goes!
Rocco steeled his shaking body, shoving his way through the bushes with a rustling sound before bursting into the open space.
"Hold it right there-"
Heroes always arrive late!
That's what Rocco was about to declare in a dramatic appearance, but the words died in his throat the moment he saw what was happening.
Sylas was about to fall—right into the deep waters of the lake behind him.
Rocco froze, his mouth hanging wide open.
No way…
It seemed he had been too slow.