Help, I'm in Another World and All the Men Are Are So Dangerous! [BL]-Chapter 176: The Custody Battle Begins

It didn’t take long to spot him.

Laxus’s dark abyss hair and striking red eyes made him easy to pick out in the crowd.

He was smiling brightly, waving at Rocco.

Unable to help himself, Rocco’s tense expression softened just a little. freeweɓnøvel.com

Standing beside Laxus was the Head of Del Fiore family, whose gentle smile carried a quiet strength.

Just seeing them there eased Rocco’s nerves.

No matter what happened, with those two people on their side, things didn’t seem entirely hopeless.

"A proposal to amend the law regarding guardianship. Duke Wimburg’s claim to Rocco Di Malvento’s custody. To attempt to resolve such weighty matters in a single meeting... how reckless."

"Even if he is the heir to a violent mafia family, he is still just a child. His father is on the verge of execution—of course, he’s desperate."

The sound of stifled laughter echoed from somewhere in the room, making Rocco stiffen.

The whispers were laced with malice, their words dripping with mockery.

Most of them were directed at Sylas, belittling him as young and foolish.

Rocco instinctively puffed out his cheeks in silent fury, but before he could let his anger boil over, Sylas placed a steady hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to his senses.

"Calm yourself, Rocco. There is no problem. This meeting—our victory is already assured."

His tone carried a faint trace of amusement, sending a shiver of curiosity down Rocco’s spine.

Slowly, Rocco tilted his head up to glance at him.

Sylas’s face was unreadable, but there was the faintest trace of a smirk on his lips.

Following his gaze, Rocco’s eyes landed on the man clad in the most extravagant garments in the chamber—the one seated above all others.

A man adorned with a crown.

Wait.

A crown?

Rocco blinked his eyes in astonishment, realization dawning.

Before he could even voice his thoughts, Sylas pulled him close and murmured quietly.

"A puppet he may be, but he is still the highest authority in the land. And I happen to have the perfect leverage against him. It doesn’t matter how we get there—if we can coerce the king into granting his approval, we win."

Something about that statement felt... incredibly ominous.

Rocco shifted uncomfortably.

Is this really okay...?

But Sylas was utterly composed, radiating nothing but confidence.

If he was this sure of himself, then it had to mean he had an ace up his sleeve.

Maybe Rocco didn’t need to be so anxious after all.

"Now then, let us begin with the proposed amendment to the guardianship law—ah, but before that, Duke Wimburg has requested a reordering of the discussion topics—"

Rocco flinched.

Had their opponent, Duke Germano, already begun to make his move?

He turned to Sylas in alarm, only to find him perfectly unfazed.

Without so much as a flicker of hesitation, he responded, "I have no objections."

His reaction was so composed, so effortless, it was as if he had anticipated this exact development from the start.

Rocco couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was playing out within the palm of Sylas’s hand.

"Duke Germano, step forward."

At those words, Rocco tensed.

Duke Germano.

His own flesh and blood.

His grandfather.

A relative he had never met, never even seen, now stood in the same room as him.

A strange, indescribable feeling stirred in his chest.

Slowly, he lifted his gaze.

The moment his eyes met those of the man standing across the chamber, Sylas’s grip on his shoulder tightened ever so slightly.

"Oh... Rocco, my beloved grandson..."

The man standing before him bore no resemblance to him whatsoever.

If no one had told Rocco they were related by blood, he never would have suspected it.

And yet, this man—his supposed grandfather—spoke in a voice thick with sorrow, a single tear tracing down his cheek.

"Your mother was murdered by that monstrous father of yours. You must have lived in constant fear all these years... I can only imagine the terror you’ve endured. I am so sorry... for doing nothing to save you until now."

Tears streamed freely down the man’s face.

Yet, strangely, Rocco felt nothing from him.

No love.

No guilt.

It was all too empty.

Rocco knew better—he felt it.

Maybe it was because he had spent his life surrounded by Sylas and his father, who had always spoken to him with genuine warmth and affection.

Compared to them, this man’s words were hollow.

And beneath the surface...

Rocco could almost sense the sneer hiding behind his grief-stricken mask.

"I pleaded with that wretched Di Malvento patriarch, again and again, to relinquish his custody over you. But that monster refused every single time. Cruel, isn’t it? He was nothing short of a devil...!"

Again and again...?

Rocco’s eyes widened.

This wasn’t the first time his father had fought to keep custody over him?

His grandfather had been trying to take him away for years...

And his father had never allowed it.

"...!"

Tears threatened to spill before Rocco could stop them.

All this time—without him even knowing—his father had been protecting him.

Fighting for him.

Loving him.

The only reason this guardianship dispute had become public in the first place was because his father had been temporarily handed over to the city guards, leaving his custody rights uncertain.

And that was when the duke had struck—using the opportunity to make his move.

The more Rocco thought about it, the more bitter the realization became.

This country...

It was designed to serve the nobility.

The adults.

This entire battle over "custodial rights" was absurd.

The child’s will was utterly ignored.

The decision was left entirely in the hands of adults who talked over his head, treating him like a prize to be won.

How could no one see how twisted this was?

Then, it clicked.

They did see it.

They simply pretended not to.

As long as no one spoke up, they could continue ignoring the problem.

But then Sylas—just a child in their eyes—had dared to challenge their system.