Help, I'm in Another World and All the Men Are So Hot! [BL]-Chapter 156: Naming and New Beginnings

Elyon likely noticed but decided to let Damien figure it out as a learning experience—or worse, for some twisted amusement.

Well, this complicated things. Since the "illegitimate son" nodded at his questions, it seemed his hearing was fine.

"Can you write?" Damien asked.

The "illegitimate son" shook his head.

Damien sighed. "Okay... is there any way we can figure out your name?" 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

The "illegitimate son" folded his arms, deep in thought.

"Maybe the name of something nearby?" Damien suggested.

Another shake of the head.

Damien was at a loss. This was going to be tricky.

What to do? Damien hadn’t expected to stumble at the introduction stage.

"How about Master gives him a work name to use?" Lysander suggested.

Damien hesitated, but the "illegitimate son" eagerly nodded with a delighted expression.

"Wait, you’re okay with that?" Damien asked, surprised.

"It’s not uncommon to assign names for work purposes. Some cruel masters even use names like ’Hey’ or ’Dog,’" Lysander added.

"That... sounds awful," Damien muttered.

Still, he couldn’t give a name like that.

"What kind of name should I choose?" Damien wondered aloud.

"Master, please decide for him," Lucian said, and Leonide and the others nodded in agreement.

The "illegitimate son" looked at Damien expectantly, eyes full of hope.

Damien wasn’t confident since his naming skills were really bad, however since Winter is about to come..

"Uh, how about Winter... no, maybe Zima? It’s ’winter’ in another language, I think."

It wasn’t a great name, but it was the best Damien could manage. To his relief, the "illegitimate son"—now Zima—beamed and nodded vigorously.

"Okay, then. Let’s go with Zima for now. If you think of something better later, let me know."

Everyone nodded.

"Alright, back to the questions. How old are you, Zima?"

Zima held up fingers to indicate his age.

Ah, one year older than Damien—just as he had guessed.

"So, I know it’s a bit early to ask, but once the war calms down, I plan to send you home. Do you know where your home is?"

Damien had heard from Sebas that the area where Zima was captured was still a war zone, so it wasn’t safe to return yet. But he wanted to confirm Zima’s home location in advance.

However, Zima immediately shook his head with surprising intensity.

"Does that mean you don’t know where it is?" Damien asked.

Leonide leaned in and whispered, "Perhaps he has no home to return to... or doesn’t want to go back."

Zima, hearing this, nodded vigorously.

"Okay, just to confirm: do you not have a home to return to?"

Zima nodded firmly.

"Do you not want to go back?"

Another emphatic nod.

Damien frowned. He didn’t know the specifics, but clearly, Zima had no home—or didn’t want to return for deeply personal reasons. Something unpleasant must have happened.

"If you stay here, that means becoming a slave. Do you understand that?" Damien asked seriously.

After a moment of thought, Zima nodded with a resolute expression.

"Alright, then. I’ll introduce you to Lord Dalehaven, a distinguished nobleman..."

When Damien mentioned introducing Zima to Lord Dalehaven, Zima suddenly kicked his chair back and stood up with great force.

Leonide and Lucian, seated on either side of Damien, quickly rose, hands reaching for the concealed daggers at their sides.

Seeing this, Zima panicked, hastily sat back down, bowed repeatedly, and then looked up through his lashes, pointing timidly at Damien.

What... was that supposed to mean?

"I believe he means he wants to serve you, Master," Leonide whispered after releasing the hilt of his dagger. He leaned in and placed a light kiss on Damien’s cheek before stepping back.

Why the kiss? Zima’s face was now bright red.

"Well... I suppose that’s what he’s saying," Damien muttered.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking honestly. "Just so you know, my family is small—we don’t even have a proper estate yet."

Zima’s expression turned desperate, nodding fervently with an unwavering determination.

"Honestly, Theo’s household would probably be a better option," Damien added.

But Zima shook his head even harder, eyes full of resolve.

"In that case, I’ll take responsibility for Zima," Damien decided.

Zima’s face lit up with pure joy.

"Well, if that’s settled, let’s discuss what you’re capable of," Damien said, feeling like he was conducting a formal job interview.

...

After discussion, it turned out Zima was highly skilled. He had previous experience working in a household, was trained in etiquette, and could handle cleaning, laundry, and cooking. He even had basic proficiency in swordsmanship. While he couldn’t speak or read and write, meaning he wasn’t suited for negotiations, his other skills matched those of Leonide and the others.

If Zima’s abilities were as good as he claimed, Damien figured he could take over some of the personal tasks Leonide and the others handled, especially since they were often busy helping Theo.

When Damien shared this thought, Leonide and the others nodded in agreement.

It seemed like meeting Zima had been a stroke of good luck.

After finalizing the terms of their agreement, the meeting ended. Zima would work under the same conditions Leonide and the others had when they first joined.

Though Zima seemed reluctant, Damien insisted—it was his household, so he had the final say. He’d already checked with Sebas, who assured him there was no issue with treating a slave like a servant. The cost difference was purely internal and inconsequential.

Leonide and the others, for their part, seemed to approve, wearing expressions that said, "This is how it should be."

So, Zima was assigned to learn the job under Leonide that afternoon. Leonide would also assess Zima’s actual skills during this time.

Damien trusted Leonide completely; after all, Sebas had vouched for him. Of course, all of Damien’s retainers came with Sebas’s seal of approval, which made things much easier for a master who felt perpetually out of his depth.

With Zima settled, Damien turned his attention to the Lizardmen, who had apparently woken up. It was time for their interviews next.