Claude lived in the attic. His parents, sister and brother lived on the third floor, while his elder brother, Arbeit Ferd, lived on the second floor. There was also a guest room and a study on the second floor, but the study was shared by his father and brother. Usually, he had to ask for permission to enter the study to read a few books.
There were washrooms and toilets on the second and third floors. Claude mostly went to the second floor since there were more people there.
When he reached the second floor, he saw Arbeit coming out of the washroom while stroking his chin in satisfaction. It was obvious that he had just shaved and was quite satisfied with his handiwork.
"Good morning, Arbeit," Claude greeted.
Abigail glared at Claude and humphed before heading downstairs.
Claude didn't mind and went to the washroom to brush his teeth and wash his face.
Arbeit didn't have a good relationship with Claude. Firstly, he looked down on his younger brother. In terms of academics, Arbeit was his father's pride and joy. He graduated first in the liberal arts from the national high school in Whitestag and was recommended to be the personal secretary of the only national councilor in Whitestag, Sir Ariesra Fux.
(Note: Knighthood isn't an official title. It's just an honorary title given to citizens who have contributed to the kingdom but haven't been granted a title. For example, all national councilors are granted the title of knighthood.
Of course, knights and knights are also known as nobles in waiting. Most of the nobles who were granted titles in the kingdom came from them.)
Secondly, Arbeit had always considered himself to be the heir of House Ferd and wasn't close to his siblings.
Perhaps in the eyes of the future head of the house, his siblings would be rivals for the family fortune in the future and a burden to the family now.
In a way, Arbeit perfectly inherited his father's selfishness and pettiness. It was just that he was still young and didn't know how to hide it.
He wasn't like his father, who was able to disguise his selfishness and pettiness with a keen eye and meticulous judgment. He didn't learn his father's investment prowess and the principle that good bait was necessary to fish.
Perhaps the previous owner of this body was still a little afraid of his big brother. That was because a slacker student looked up to a genius student.
Claude, on the other hand, didn't feel anything towards his elder brother in name at all. Instead, he was secretly glad that the two of them were distant from each other. It just so happened that he avoided the incident that he feared the most as a transmigrator.
The head of the family, Mr. Morssen, was so busy with official business that he never paid attention to his second son, even when he was seriously ill. In fact, he even flew into a rage because of the cause of his illness and scolded his second son.
The mother doted on her son. No matter what abnormal behavior her son had, she automatically attributed it to his recovery from a serious illness. Usually, she paid the most attention to her youngest daughter and son, neglecting the abnormality of her second son after his illness.
As for his younger siblings, they were still young and immature, so in this aspect, the transmigrator's performance was considered perfect.
The first floor was the dining room and kitchen. When Claude went downstairs, he saw his father and brother sitting at the dining table. His 12-year-old sister, Angelina, brought out the breakfast their mother had prepared for them. Arbeit even urged his sister to bring him the salt shaker and butter plate.
"Good morning, Father," said Claude.
Morssen put down the Whitestag Morning Post and looked at Claude with a furrowed brow. He nodded slightly and took the plate with the fried egg in front of him, sprinkled some salt on it, and began to enjoy it.
Abigail hurriedly picked up the Whitestag Morning Post that his father had placed on the table and placed it in front of him. He ate his bread and butter as he read the newspaper.
Whitestag Morning Post was the only newspaper jointly established by the few magnates of Whitestag. They hoped that it would be just like the other three newspapers in the prefectural capital and bring them a boost in prestige and wealth.
Unfortunately, even though the registered population of Whitestag exceeded sixty thousand, there were only a thousand or so subscribers, which was just enough to meet the minimum requirements of the newspaper.
The newspaper that had been running for three years didn't survive that way. In order to cut costs, the company fired most of the reporters and editors. Their main source of news came from the newspapers in the prefectural capital, so most of the content in the newspaper was old news from the prefectural capital. There was only one page for local news in Whitestag.
There were rumors that the magnates were looking for a buyer and would rather sell their shares at a loss.
It was said that they had asked Morssen for his opinion on the matter, but he was still considering it.
Claude entered the kitchen and saw his sister, Angelina, using a copper spoon to scoop milk from a copper pot on the stove into a glass jug.
"Let me, Anna," he said as he poured the milk into the jug and asked, "Where's Mother?"
"Bloweyk isn't happy when he wakes up in the morning. Mother is coaxing him," said Angelina.
Bloweyk was the youngest child in the family and was only six years old. Morssen was nearing fifty, which meant that Mrs. Ferd had given birth to Bloweyk at the ripe old age of forty.
In an age where giving birth was a matter of life and death, it was a rare and fortunate occurrence.
That was why the couple doted on their youngest son the most. He was practically the little tyrant of the family and got whatever he wanted.
"Alright, Anna, go eat. You have to go to school after you're done," said Claude as he brought the jug of milk to the dining table.
Thanks to Stellin IX's educational reforms, girls could attend primary and secondary schools as well as commoners' children as long as they could afford the fees.
Morssen was quite open-minded in that regard. He placed great importance on his children's education and even allowed his youngest daughter to attend school.
"Fill it up for me." Arbeit pointed at the glass in front of him.
"It's not like you don't have hands."
Claude ignored him and stopped the little loli who wanted to go over. He pulled a chair over for his sister to sit down. "Ignore him. He really thinks he's a young master. You're his sister, not his servant. He doesn't have the right to make you his servant."
"What did you say?" Arbeit put down the bread and newspaper in his hands angrily.
"Didn't you hear what I said?
It's a pity that you're already so deaf at such a young age. I'm really worried about how you're doing your job as Sir Fux's secretary. Perhaps you should go to the moon shrine and get a priest to test your hearing. "
Claude met his gaze fearlessly as he unhurriedly buttered his bread.
Arbeit was seething with anger. He stood up abruptly. "You, you …"
"You what?
Oh, are you standing up to have a spar with me?
I really admire your courage, "Claude mocked mercilessly.
Ever since the transmigrator became Claude, he had carefully maintained the image of an obedient child, much to his parents' surprise. They believed that their child had finally become obedient after his illness. Even his siblings had grown closer to him.
Only his eldest brother, Arbeit, always mocked and ridiculed Claude. His eyes were full of nitpicking, and he didn't like Claude at all.
One time, when his parents weren't home, Claude wanted to go into the study to read a few books, but Arbeit refused to let him.
So, when his sister Angelina said something fair, Abigail flew into a rage out of humiliation and slapped her sister without saying a word.
The slap enraged Claude. He ignored the fact that he was still recuperating and charged at Arbeit to fight him.
The two were four years apart. Arbeit was half a head taller than Claude, but Claude seemed to be a little more buff.
He thought he would get a good beating, but he didn't expect Arbeit to be all bark and no bite. He didn't know what to do in close combat. After a few heavy blows, he fell to the sofa and cried for help. He covered his head and allowed Claude to beat him up as he pleased.
It seemed that the previous owner of this body had a talent for fighting. There were many scenes of him fighting with other children.
The more the transmigrator fought, the more skillful he became. In the end, he could not help but beat his big brother into a pig's head.
Even though he was scolded harshly by his parents, he no longer feared his elder brother. Instead, he felt a sense of superiority.
In the future, whenever the two brothers quarreled, they would unconsciously reveal their fists. They had the intention to see who was stronger with their fists if they couldn't win in words.
Every time this happened, Arbeit would always retreat. To be honest, he was already scared of his younger brother's beatings, and asking his parents to intervene would only make him more embarrassed.
Just like now, Arbeit sat down resentfully. "I won't lower myself to the level of a barbarian like you …"
"Ahem, ahem …" Mr. Morssen could no longer pretend to ignore the conflict between his two sons. After all, the eldest son looked down on the second son, while the second son refused to obey the eldest son.
He had taught his two sons a lesson, but the effect was the same. No matter when, as long as the two brothers were together, they would immediately start a verbal conflict in less than ten minutes.
"Your mother's fried eggs are a little overcooked today."
Mr. Morssen said as if he didn't see the conflict between the two brothers, "Pour me a glass of milk, Claude."
Claude obediently filled his father's glass with milk and asked politely, "Do you want honey, Father?"
"No need.
Fresh milk is better when it's freshly boiled. Honey is too sweet and bad for your teeth, "said Morssen.
"I want honey," said the little girl, who didn't seem to mind the harm honey would do to her teeth.
"Remember to rinse your mouth after breakfast. Father is right. Sweet things aren't good for your teeth," said Claude as he poured two spoonfuls of honey into the little girl's milk.
Mr. Morssen shook his head. Ever since his illness, his second son had been like a different man. Not only had his grades improved, but he also liked to stay at home and read. He no longer liked to go out and play with his roguish friends, and he doted on his younger siblings.
The only bad thing was that his relationship with his eldest brother soured. He would often try to teach his brother a lesson.
"Arbelle, your brother is right. You have hands and feet. Do what you can. Don't wait for others to serve you."
It was rare for Morssen to lecture his eldest son, "Your brother's grades aren't as good as yours, but at least he's like a brother. He takes care of his sister and doesn't treat her like a servant."
Morssen had always been proud of his eldest son. He had perfectly inherited his father's intellect, which was why he was able to do so well.
After becoming Sir Fux's personal secretary, Arbelle's performance was outstanding as well. He was trusted by Sir Fux and even boasted about his son's talents to him.
However, Morssen soon realized that his eldest son was a little narrow-minded and valued money more than anything else. He didn't have a good relationship with his three younger siblings.
Even though Morssen reminded him a few times, Arbelle didn't take his advice to heart. His relationship with Claude had worsened recently.