SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant Chapter 539: An Awkward Clarification

Trafalgar remained rooted in his spot without budging.

"Could you perhaps cease aiming that bow at me? It's not an enjoyable experience for me, unlike it seems to be for you."

Cynthia inhaled sharply, held her breath for a moment, then exhaled through her nose. The mana surrounding her hand diminished. Shortly after, the bow dissolved into shimmering light particles and vanished.

Trafalgar relaxed his shoulders slightly.

"Thank you. So, I was under the impression this was Bartholomew's room. At least, that's the information I received."

Cynthia kept a hand firmly on her towel, as if she couldn't trust her surroundings even for another second. "It is. This is my brother's room."

Trafalgar briefly surveyed the area, partly to emphasize his point, and partly because he’d rather look anywhere else than directly at the chaotic scene that had unfolded in the last minute. "Good. That confirms I haven't completely lost my ability to follow numbers."

Cynthia narrowed her eyes, a flush still visible on her face. "Would you care to elucidate why you are present inside my brother's chamber?"

"I could counter by asking what you are doing in your brother's room first."

This remark elicited a more intense glare from her.

"What is it you desire from Bartholomew?"

"I have a question for him." Trafalgar gestured with his head towards the door. "So, I intended to wait here." His gaze drifted to the entrance, which remained slightly ajar. "Although, you ought to be more vigilant. The room was left unlocked."

Cynthia retorted instantly. "Bartholomew left it open, not I. I forgot my attire in my own quarters, so he went to retrieve it. The shower in my room is currently non-functional. I surmise he departed in haste and overlooked securing the door."

This explanation sounded regrettably credible.

The image of Bartholomew forgetting to close the door while attempting to avoid keeping his sister waiting aligned so perfectly with his character that Trafalgar felt a fleeting pang of guilt for suspecting the room had simply been abandoned to chance.

Almost.

Before he could utter another word, the main door creaked open once more.

"Sis-sister, I have returned with your garments—"

Bartholomew stepped inside, two sets of folded clothes held in his hands.

His voice abruptly ceased.

He had not anticipated finding Trafalgar standing to one side, nor Cynthia before him wrapped solely in a towel, her cheeks crimson and her damp hair cascading over her shoulders post-bath. His entire body froze with such suddenness it appeared as though his skeleton had been replaced with rigid wood.

"Fo-forgive my intrusion," he stammered.

Trafalgar immediately raised a hand.

"Hold it right there, Barth. Give her the clothes. This is a complete misunderstanding, so do not let your imagination run wild. I came specifically to see you. I have something I wish to demonstrate."

This statement offered both too much and too little information, yet it was preferable to allowing Bartholomew to concoct his own narrative, which would undoubtedly be far worse.

Cynthia moved swiftly across the space, took the clothes from her brother's grasp, and retreated into the bathroom without another word, although the look she shot Trafalgar on her way suggested she harbored no forgiveness for his continued existence.

The door clicked shut.

Bartholomew remained stationary, gazing at Trafalgar with the vacant shock of someone who returned home to find their living space undergoing unexpected renovations.

Trafalgar spared him the effort of asking.

"You left the door unlocked when you went to fetch your sister's attire. I entered assuming you were absent and decided it would be prudent to teach you a lesson regarding carelessness. Nothing that transpired afterward was premeditated." He met Bartholomew's eyes with a dispassionate expression. "I require your assistance with a matter."

At least the final sentence managed to penetrate Bartholomew's stunned state.

He swallowed and blinked twice. "W-what is it you need, Trafalgar?"

Trafalgar efficiently opened the case, extracted a single page, and presented it to Bartholomew.

"Do these characters seem familiar to you?"

Bartholomew leaned closer.

The transformation in him was instantaneous.

The embarrassment, the hesitant awkwardness, the residual panic from the scene he had just stumbled upon—all of it vanished, replaced by a more potent instinct. His eyes sharpened. His entire demeanor animated in a manner Trafalgar had witnessed before, typically when archaic texts, obscure records, or partially decayed historical documents were involved.

Trafalgar almost allowed himself a smile.

"You recall the two notebooks I previously entrusted to you," he stated. "This is quite similar. I require your expertise in deciphering it."

Bartholomew took the sheet with utmost care, treating it as if it were a fragile, sacred artifact. "Y-yes," he affirmed immediately. "Yes, I remember. This bears a striking resemblance to that material." His voice gained confidence without conscious effort. "The structural arrangement, the script, the manner in which the lines are segmented... yes, definitely, I can assist with this."

"Handle with extreme care," Trafalgar cautioned. "I cannot afford for it to be damaged."

Bartholomew nodded so vigorously it seemed almost perilous. "I pledge not to damage it, I assure you."

Observing the growing excitement consume him, Trafalgar finally permitted a faint smile to grace his lips. "So? What do you say?"

Bartholomew raised his head, his expression akin to someone presented with riches or a divine revelation.

"Yes. Of course. Let’s go to your room and start right away."

Such eagerness was nearly unbelievable.

Yet, it simplified matters.

"Good," Trafalgar stated. "We can head out now."

The bathroom door swung open once more.

Cynthia emerged, now clad in casual attire, her hair still damp from her bath. The white cloth was gone, the color had largely returned to her face, and the room immediately felt more bearable.

She cast a glance between the two men. "What were you two discussing?"

Trafalgar responded before Bartholomew could.

"Men's talk. Isn't that right, Barth?"

Though Bartholomew understood far less than Trafalgar gave him credit for, his fear and instincts guided him. He nodded swiftly. "R-right."

Cynthia appeared unconvinced. She also seemed too weary to engage in a second confrontation.

"Well, I'm heading out," she announced. "I accomplished what I came for." She turned her attention to Bartholomew first. "See you later, Barth." Her gaze then fixed on Trafalgar, narrowing slightly. "And you. Forget what you witnessed."

Trafalgar gave a single, agreeable nod.

Unfortunately, Bartholomew chose that precise moment to inquire.

"Wh-what did you see?"

Cynthia's face flushed crimson once again.

"N-nothing," she retorted sharply.

This time, it was she who stammered.

Trafalgar observed her for a fleeting moment, a hint of amusement dangerously close to the surface.

'She appears entirely different like this.'

Normally, Cynthia carried herself like a drawn sword, all directness and sharp edges, possessing a confidence that compelled people to yield without realizing they were doing so. Witnessing the same young woman struggle with her own embarrassment was unexpectedly disorienting.

He opted, for the sake of mercy and self-preservation, not to voice these thoughts aloud.

Instead, he turned back to Bartholomew.

"Well, shall we go?"

Bartholomew immediately nodded in assent.

Trafalgar retrieved the case and stepped into the corridor, leaving Bartholomew to linger for a moment longer to bid farewell to his sister. By the time Bartholomew stepped outside, Trafalgar was already positioned by the wall, awaiting him.

He cast a long look at Bartholomew.

"Close the door."

Bartholomew blinked, turned, and noted the entrance was still ajar.

"T-true," he mumbled. "I got too worked up and forgot."

"Yeah, I can see that."

Bartholomew shut the door properly this time, touching it again as if attempting to salvage a sliver of dignity, and finally turned back.

Together, they proceeded towards Trafalgar's chamber.