Satoru throwing a tantrum|Sukuna: "This yo wife, bro?"

The bathroom door creaked open, and Satoru stepped out, yawning as he scratched his butt. His damp white hair clung to his forehead, and steam drifted out behind him.

"Ahhh, much better," he muttered, feeling refreshed after relieving his upset stomach and taking a long, free shower. He stretched lazily, still scratching his butt, completely unaware of the chaos unfolding beyond the room.

He stepped into the bedroom, still lazily scratching his butt, only to pause when he noticed something off—you weren't there. His brows furrowed slightly.

"Huh?" he mumbled, raising an eyebrow.

Glancing around, he saw no sign of you. With a shrug, he turned back and headed out of the room, making his way downstairs. Maybe you were in the kitchen. But when he peeked inside, there was no trace of you there either.

Scratching his head in confusion, he sighed. "Where the hell is she?"

With no other leads, he strolled toward the maids' quarters. The moment he arrived, the maids tensed, their expressions shifting to worry. They knew. They knew he'd hear everything soon. They feared he'd throw one of his infamous tantrums.

But instead of asking any questions, Satoru simply raised a finger and pointed—disrespectfully, like a spoiled little brat.

"You," he said lazily.

One of the maids stiffened, her heart pounding as she looked up, fully focused.

"Get me a cup of water."

The maid felt relieved, nodding quickly before heading to the kitchen. As she walked away, she shot a glare behind her, whispering to herself, "Wasn't he in the kitchen just a second ago before he went to the living room?"

Shaking off her confusion, she grabbed a glass cup and filled it with cool water.

Meanwhile, Satoru plopped onto the couch, kicking his legs up onto the table in front of him. He leaned back, waiting for the large TV on the wall to be turned on by the maids.

The maids glanced at him, noticing the cold, expectant look in his eyes—his silent signal for them to hurry up.

Exchanging nervous glances, two of them rushed forward at the same time, both reaching for the remote on the table. In their haste, they bumped into each other—one stumbling forward and crashing onto his legs, the other falling flat on the floor.

Pain shot through Satoru's shins as the weight of the maid crushed his toes. A sharp, unrestrained scream tore from his throat. The young maid on his legs winced, feeling the force of his toes stabbing into her stomach.

The maid in the kitchen jolted at Satoru's sudden scream, her body instinctively flinching. The small jump caused the glass of water to slip from her hands, crashing onto the floor with a loud, shattering sound. Her eyes widened in fear—she had just broken one of his expensive glasses, nearly worth $750 for no literal reason, except for the popular brand itself.

Satoru, still wincing from the pain in his shins, immediately perked up at the sound. His frustration boiled over as he shouted,

"Not only did you women shatter my glass, but also my shin!"

The young maid who had fallen onto Satoru's legs was still sprawled over him, while the other maid on the floor quickly scrambled to her feet. Without hesitation, she grabbed her colleague and yanked her off his legs, forcing both of them into a deep bow.

"We are so sorry, young master! Please do forgive us!" they pleaded in unison, their backs bending low in apology.

Just then, the maid from the kitchen rushed into the living room, eyes wide with confusion as she tried to grasp the situation. But before she could even bow to apologize on their behalf, Satoru's irritated voice cut through the room.

"Now where the hell is my glass of water, huh!?"

Panic shot through her as she froze for a second, then quickly turned on her heel and rushed back into the kitchen to retrieve his drink.

Watching her scurry away, Satoru scoffed loudly, letting out a sharp "Hah!" of impatience. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, he muttered loud enough for every maid nearby to hear,

"Women are indeed dramatic."

The two maids remained kneeling as they were, their heads lowered in submission. Meanwhile, the third maid returned with the glass of water, hesitantly extending it to Satoru.

He took the glass, then shot a sharp glare at the two bowing maids.

"Kneel."

Without hesitation, they quickly shifted from bowing to kneeling, not daring to question him.

The maid who had just handed him the water hesitated, unsure if his command applied to her as well. She kept her gaze down, hands clasped together, silently waiting for him to finish drinking.

Satoru took a sip—then immediately spat the water out with a loud spluttering sound, the cold liquid spraying onto the maid's chest.

She gasped in shock, eyes squeezing shut as the sudden wetness soaked through her uniform. Some of the water even splashed into her widely open mouth, making her stomach churn with disgust. But she swallowed her reaction, forcing herself to stay silent.

Without warning, Satoru flung the glass behind her, the sharp crack of shattering crystal echoing through the room.

"Are you trying to numb my tongue!? That shit was too cold!" he shouted, his irritation flaring.

The maid quickly snapped out of her shock and bowed deeply. "My apologies, sir! I'll bring you another glass of room-temperature water immediately!" She hurriedly turned and rushed back to the kitchen.

Satoru let out another sharp "Hah!" before scoffing, his voice dripping with annoyance.

"You women are a total mess of maids!"

Then, as if the thought had just occurred to him, he added with a mocking smirk,

"This is why I think my wife could make a better maid out of herself."

His smirk vanishes as he leans on his knuckles, elbow resting on the couch armrest. His fingers rub together as a cold realization settles in.

"Speaking of my wife... where is she?" His voice is sharp, his gaze shifting to the bowing maids.

They glance at each other, trembling.

"Speak," he orders, his tone colder, voice slightly raised.

A chill creeps into the air, making them shudder. One maid swallows hard, struggling to respond. "She—her mother..."

Before she can finish, his phone buzzes. His icy blue eyes flicker with irritation as he pulls it out, unlocking the screen to check the message.

His expression shifts, eyebrows furrowing as he reads. The room falls silent, the tension thick. The maids remain frozen in place, unsure whether to continue or wait for his reaction.

The third maid returned carefully with the glass of room-temperature water, standing beside him as he focused on his phone. She hesitated, noticing his eyes widen, his expression darkening. A chill ran down her spine.

On the screen was a photo—you on the balcony, wrapped in Suguru's embrace. The lighting obscured Suguru's face, but you were unmistakable in that dress. The message from Sukuna read: "This yo wife, bro?"

Satoru's grip on the phone tightened before he abruptly stood, letting out a furious roar. The maid flinched but held the tray steady, determined not to drop the glass this time.

Without warning, he hurled his phone past her, the device smashing against the wall with a sharp crack. She swallowed hard with fear.

Then, with another rage-filled shout, he seized the glass from the tray and flung it behind her. The sound of shattering glass rang through the room.

She trembled, her hands shaking. In her mind was: "He must be possessed by a demon at this point."

The guards at the main entrance, hearing all the dramatic chaos, screams, and scattering from inside the house, glanced at each other, holding in their laughter.

One muttered to the other, "Satoru -9999 aura."

The other struggled to hold back his laughter, "stawp bruh."

But their amusement quickly faded when Satoru's furious voice suddenly roared from inside, shouting at them to get the car ready.

Startled, one guard quickly swung open the main entrance while the other sprinted to the car, rushing to get it ready.

💌 Are you in big trouble❓

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