From Trash to Lord of Thunder: The Rise of the Cursed Extra-Chapter 66: Cleanup

Charles felt Lira’s words hit him like a sack of bricks dropped from a rooftop.

’Dammit,’ he thought, irritation bubbling up.

Even though his memories of life in the real world were patchy at best, one thing was crystal clear:

Women are trouble.

Sure, Charles liked women, but what he couldn’t stand was the drama they could whip up over nothing.

And Lira, probably in charge of running half the arena’s operations... couldn’t she just let what happened with Rian slide?

Or did she have more free time than she was letting on?

Still, Charles couldn’t afford to let her suspect he wasn’t Rian. That would make escaping this mess ten times harder.

For Charles, a shaky ally was better than an annoying enemy.

So, steeling himself, he prepped to keep up the act.

"It’s me," Charles said, his voice still hoarse from the choking. "Seriously, Lira. It’s me."

Lira narrowed her eyes, leaning in closer.

"Then why’ve you changed so much?" she demanded, her tone brooking no nonsense. "Why’re you suddenly acting like a different person? And those powers? Why’d you hide them all these years?"

Charles swallowed hard, sweat trickling down his neck.

’Great,’ he thought, annoyance flaring. ’I haven’t got a clue why that idiot Rian never used his powers. Come on, brain, give me a useful memory!’

He waited, hoping some fragment of Rian’s memory would surface with a hint, but his mind was a blank.

Nothing.

Not a single clue about why Rian had lived like a servant, never showing his lightning.

’Damn it, thanks for nothing!’ Charles fumed internally. ’Guess I’m winging it...’

He took a deep breath, buying time. Looking Lira in the eyes, he forced a weary expression he hoped looked genuine.

"Lira," he said slowly, "answer me this. Don’t you think I’m tired?"

Lira frowned, clearly thrown off.

"Tired?" she echoed, sounding skeptical. "You just napped for four hours in that chair. What’re you talking about?"

Charles let out a short laugh, shaking his head.

"Not that kind of tired," he said, catching his breath. "I’m tired of everyone treating me like garbage. Tired of being the weakling, the servant everyone steps on. You know what that’s like?"

Lira studied him, a mix of confusion and suspicion in her eyes.

"And?" she said, crossing her arms, still looming over him. "People treated you that way because you were a servant. You never showed any skills, Rian. If you’d done something, anything, before, you wouldn’t be in this mess. Why now? Why not sooner?"

Charles felt his stomach twist.

’You’ve gotta be kidding me,’ he thought. ’This feels like I’m stuck in a visual novel crossed with a fighting game. Quit acting like a cop!’

The original Rian let himself be humiliated his whole life, and Charles couldn’t figure out why, but he couldn’t admit that.

Instead, he decided to make something up that sounded believable.

"I did it because... my powers only woke up now," he said, trying to sound convincing. "I didn’t have them before. Or... I didn’t know I had them. I don’t know how to explain it, but one day, they just... showed up."

Lira blinked, visibly caught off guard.

If that was true, it explained a lot.

"Your powers woke up now?" she repeated, skeptical but curious. "That’s... weird, but not impossible. Some in the clan awaken their abilities late. But..."

She paused, choosing her words carefully.

"Why didn’t you say anything? Why hide it until now?"

’Because of your crappy attitude!’ Charles screamed in his head, but he just shrugged, trying to play it cool.

"What’d you expect? I’m an idiot, right? You said so yourself."

Lira blinked, and for a split second, a flicker of amusement crossed her face.

’This idiot...’ she thought, quickly reverting to her serious expression.

"Idiot or not," she said, "there were better ways to climb the ranks. You didn’t have to cause this whole mess. Seriously, what were you thinking?"

Charles sighed, feeling the tension ease slightly.

’That I didn’t want to die,’ he thought, but he kept that to himself.

Instead, he just shrugged.

"I wanted to prove I’m not useless. That’s all."

Lira stared at him for a few more seconds, then slowly stood, letting him go.

Charles coughed, rubbing his chest as he sat up, relieved to breathe normally again.

’That was too close,’ he thought, eyeing Lira warily. ’Please, no more questions.’

Lira turned, surveying the chaos in the room: rice, chunks of meat, and peppers scattered across the floor, the table flipped, the chair toppled. Her shoulders sagged slightly, and for a moment, she looked more exhausted than angry.

"What a mess..." she muttered, walking to a corner where two brooms leaned against the wall.

She grabbed one but, before starting to sweep, glanced at Charles.

"I’m calling Mira to clean this up."

Charles, still on the floor, shook his head.

If he was going to squash her suspicions, he was going all in.

"No," he said, standing with a pained grunt. He grabbed the other broom. "I’ll help."

Lira raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.

"You?" she said, incredulous. "Why? I can call Mira. It’s her job."

Charles grinned, shrugging.

"Because I’m here, stepsis," he said, deliberately emphasizing the last word, hoping it sounded natural this time. "No need to call anyone."

Lira froze, and for a brief moment, a shadow of sadness crossed her face at his words.

Charles noticed but chose not to comment. Instead, he started sweeping, though his movements were clumsy, like he’d never held a broom before.

Lira watched him sweep, then suddenly let out a short laugh.

"By the ancestors," she said, covering her mouth. "What’s that sweeping technique? Did no one ever teach you how to hold a broom properly?"

Charles frowned, faking indignation.

"What? I’m doing fine!" he said, though a fleeting memory of the original Rian surfaced: an older servant, face wrinkled, teaching Rian how to sweep with smooth, precise motions.

Charles ignored it, shrugging since that same mind hadn’t helped him earlier.

"Nah, no one taught me. I’m a mess, what’d you expect?"

Lira laughed harder, shaking her head.

"Well, good thing I didn’t hire you as my servant," she said playfully. "You’d have been a total disaster."

Charles grinned, then corrected her:

"Hire me? You mean you’d have forced me to be one, right?"

Lira shot him a mischievous smile.

"My servants get paid well," she said, winking. "Better than whatever you were scraping by on, that’s for sure."

The mention of money jogged Charles’s memory.

"Hang on," he said, pausing with the broom in hand. "Didn’t someone send you money for me? Dren owed me a pouch for beating him in that duel. That jerk didn’t forget, did he?"

Lira blinked, confused.

"Money?" she repeated. "No, nobody sent me anything. Dren owed you something? He didn’t mention it."

Charles cursed under his breath, gripping the broom tighter.

"That damn cheat!" he growled. "That guy promised me a pouch of coins if I won, and now he’s playing dumb!"