Woof Woof Story ~I Said I Wanted To Be A Rich Person’s Dog, Not A Fenrir!~

We have Miraka and another, a new servant hired.

Miraka, unlike you, is an experienced old butler.

I guess the name was Richmond for sure.

I'll do anything without doing it, so I'd like to congratulate your dad on remembering.

Well, I've never been very involved with me.

Miraka-chan and I aren't getting any closer.

I wonder if I'm scared after all.

Everything is because of this giant and his face.

Goddess Yurufuwa.

As I walked down the hall angrily, etc., I heard a colloquial voice from my dad's study.

"Uhm, delicious. Do you use the same tea leaves, but the taste changes so much?"

"You can see the difference just by the scent. Can you tell me some tips on how to fry it later?

"What, it's called a pestle patch I used to take. If you don't mind if I do."

Paperwork bursts, Dad. And I'll help you with that, Mr. Miranda.

Richmond, the old butler, is behaving in tea to two tired people at long hours of work.

A pot of pottery sitting in a good position with one hand feels like a butler and looks good.

My dads are right, it does give me a good aroma of tea.

I was wondering if you could share it with me.

Is tea in tomato juice too much moisture?

I feel like I'm about to get a tummy pound, but if you share some tea treats, you can offset it!

"Wafufufufu. I'll mix it up with tea time, too.)"

Open the door with your forelegs and break into the study.

"Oh, Louta. You feel like tea, too."

Jesus.

Tea treats, too, please.

"Mr. Richmond. I'm sorry, but I was wondering if you could prepare some tea for Louta. I'd like a cup of tea too, Mr. Richmond?

No response, so everyone's gaze concentrates on Mr. Richmond.

"Wahun? (What's up, Mr. Richmond?

As you look at me dressed, Mr. Richmond is hardened like a stone.

As I approached him wondering, he began to rattle and tremble this time.

"What's wrong? Richmond, you're so sweaty."

"Yes, good. No. Yeah, whatever, let it not be. That's your replacement, isn't it? You can count on me."

It doesn't look like anything.

I mean, too shaky to spill tea out of the pot? That.

As I worried, the pour slipped away from Mr. Dad's cup and hot tea poured down his paperwork.

"No, wow!? Paperwork!?

"Mr. Richmond! What!?

Your dad screams and Miranda rushes to wipe his desk.

"Sorry! Sorry!

A mild tea time is catastrophic.

"Wow, wow... (wow, is this my fault?

Does this look scary when you look at me like this?

Miraka was something like that.

The people at the mansion are totally used to it, but maybe it still shows as something horrible for the two newcomers.

This polishes an additional one-of-a-kind look.

† † †

I didn't have the guts to sit in the study like that, so I ran back to the garden.

"Wafufufufu (I can't help it, so I guess I'll take a nap too)"

Wander around looking for a good nap point.

Summer's over, but I don't know because it's not enough to say it's still cool.

Is the shade of the garden best after all?

If I put it under the bush or something, it looks cool, but this giant doesn't seem to be able to do that either.

It's still smaller than its original size with the art of change, but if it gets smaller than this on the boulder, I'll be suspicious.

And someone is talking in the garden.

"Something wrong with the incinerator?

"Yes, it is."

It's James's old man and his gardener grandfather.

"Do you hope it burns badly? The fire doesn't seem to be turning well. Maybe the rest of the burn is jammed. You can't see it in my bad eyes."

"If that's the case, I'll take a look."

Excuse me.

Are you burning rubbish from your mansion in an incinerator before discarding it?

Sometimes there was smoke up there. I've never cared before.

"Wahoo."

Reschedule your nap and rendezvous with your old man.

"Oh, what, Louta? Are you gonna help me?

"Wahoo (no, just watching)"

"Right or right. That's great."

The old man let me go. I'm coming. It's the usual thing that doesn't make sense.

The old man examines the incinerator placed in the corner of the garden.

Open the thick doors with both openings by looking at the exterior and making sure there is nothing particularly broken.

"Uh, sure, Grandpa's right, sounds like something's stuck in the back. I need to find a longer fire stick."

With that said, the old man goes back the way he came.

"Wahoo (Hmm, what's stuck)"

You wouldn't know if I looked, but I was curious, so I peeked inside.

"Wahoo (um, you're dark and you don't look so good... more dusty here...)"

My nose mumbles about whether fine ashes are dancing.

Oh, I'm gonna sneeze out of this.

I can't stop you.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

I get a good momentum and sneeze.

And the place where the sneeze came out was in a sealed incinerator.

My sneezing momentum seemed considerable, burning but all popping up.

"Wow!? (Buh, I did it!

I coughed hard in the dust.

"Wahu...? (... that? What is this?

There was a white, shining mass in the black burning cushion.

Fluffy and twinkly.

And I looked familiar.

"Wahoo!? (My hair!?

Apparently, all the hair that had fallen out of brushing was burned here.

But the high heat in the incinerator didn't seem to burn my hair either.

It doesn't even have burn marks.

"Wow, wow! (No shit, if they find something like this, they'll suspect who I am!

"Hey, is this short? Well, no, let's just do it."

Wow, and the old man's about to come back.

I don't even have time to hide it.

I pushed into the garden bush to hide my white hair anyway.

Grrr. That's already Grrr.

"Oh? What are you doing, Louta?"

"Wow, wow (nah, nothing! I didn't do anything!

I sit further in front of the bush and appeal to you to say nothing.

No, my hair!

And don't come out with this!

"That's a weird one. Well, I don't know about the clog,"

Seems to have been a good deception.

The old man sticks a burning stick inside the incinerator and looks surprised that he doesn't feel anything.

"... oh hey?

Looks like I peeked inside and noticed the clogging was gone.

And look back.

Me pointing that way. Scattered burning people around.

…………

I'm afraid of the old man's gaze I'm going to stare at.

Then the old man broke his face.

"Don't do it, Louta!

"Wow, wow? (Oh, that?

"You scratched me out, didn't you? You could really help me! Look forward to dinner tonight!

I thought I'd be pissed off, but on the contrary, I was praised.

I haven't found out about the hair, and I think I can expect dinner.

We did it, Ugh.

And then in the middle of the night, when no one's seen it, if you sneak up and bury your hair far away, it's perfect.

I woke up and decided to take a nap in the shade.

† † †

Scattered burning is also done sweeping, a corner of the garden where no one is anymore.

There came a woman who lowered her sword.

She is Zenobia Leonhart.

He is a Falks family keeper and a former SS class adventurer.

Near this incinerator was where she encouraged her daily workouts.

In the right position, start with a slow bare gesture so as to confirm the movement, which becomes faster and quicker, an act that assumes the opponent.

The movement, as if fresh current and torrent collide, is exactly the master of swords.

The workout lasted an hour and a long time wielding a heavy sword, his strength undisturbed by breath was not ashamed of the name of the highest adventurer.

Finish defeating all imagined enemies, remorse, and put your sword in the sheath.

Zenobia tried to pick up the towel she had brought to wipe the sweat floating on her forehead.

A stuffed animal was placed there with a towel.

Much like the big dog that lives in this mansion.

It was like watching Zenobia workout, sitting tight.

"Phew."

Xenovia loosens her mouth to look adorable.

But there was a little cotton in the contents, and I fell down without strength.

"... um, wasn't it a good idea to wash it? But if you don't let go of your skin, it will get dirty. Will it be back to normal if I repack the cotton..."

I was a little plumper when I bought it.

I want to put it back on if I can.

Zenobia, looking for a way to fix it, noticed something white growing in the bush.

"What, this?

Pinch it and pull it and you'll see that it's white hair.

"Is this his hair? Why are you here..."

As Zenobia stuck her hand in the bush, more massive amounts of white hair emerged.

"Is it all his hair loss? Hide it here, it's the weird one. Shall I keep it in the incinerator?"

Lifting her hair loss, Xenovia came up with a fuss.

"Yes, if this soft hair..."

Xenovia looks back with her hair in her arms.

There was a stuffed animal there that had lost a little weight.

"Hehe, be prepared. I'm gonna make you fat as tight as that guy!

The training was interrupted and Zenobia headed to borrow the sewing tools from the maids.