A/N:
đđŻïž Happy (Belated) Halloween, Everyone! đŻïžđ
Hehe, this one's a bit late, but better late than never, right? đ»
Had a few things to take care of lately, but I didn't forget to drop a treat for you all! đŹâš
đ„ The new fanfic is officially out! đ„
đ "Beyblade Burst: I Just Want a Lazy Harem Life, Not a World-Ending Bey!"
The first chapter is now live â you can go read it right now! đđ„
And for those who can't wait for more...
đ Extra chapters are available exclusively on Patreon!
Thank you all for your patience and support â you make everything possible! đ
Hope you had a fun and spooky Halloween night! đđ«
____X____
By the time I got back from the clinic, the sky had started to clear up â faint sunlight peeking through London's usual gray.
The air was still damp, but the drizzle had finally given up.
Ravel was waiting by the window, cup of tea in hand, wearing that perfectly neutral expression that usually means she's both curious and mildly annoyed.
"You were gone for quite some time, master."
She said, tone calm but with that faint lilt of suspicion only a maid could master.
"Yeah," I said casually, hanging my coat on the rack.
"Just a check-up. Everything's fine. London doctors live up to their reputation."
She blinked once, slow and measured.
"So you are not secretly dying?"
"Not today," I replied with a smirk.
"But I'll let you know if I plan to."
"Please schedule it properly," she said, setting her cup down.
"It would be most inconvenient otherwise."
I rolled my eyes.
"You're a ray of sunshine as always, Ravel."
"What do you expect me to be for the person who literally tortured me and turned me into his slave and maid-in-name to live a long and healthy life?"
She gave me that look â the one that silently translates to 'I tolerate you only because of divine obligation.'
"Anyway," I continued, stretching my shoulders, "since this is our last day here, I was thinking we could do something educational. You know, museums and all that."
She arched a brow.
"You? Voluntarily visiting a museum?"
"I'm full of surprises," I said, smirking.
"And besides, it's part of experiencing London properly."
"Or perhaps you've finally realized you're uncultured."
"That too."
As she turned to get her coat, I let my thoughts drift quietly â not outwardly, but inward, to the being that was always there, waiting beyond sight.
Of course, that's just words that make me sound cooler; In short, I am talking to Giratina.
Giratina, I thought, the connection forming instantly like a whisper across a void.
Since this is our last day here, gather as much information as you can about England's supernatural world â factions, powers, anything active in the shadows.
Don't engage right now, observe.
After all, they are our future subjects whom we will rule over.
A deep, resonant girly hum rippled through my mind.
Understood Master.
And then the connection faded â quiet, efficient, done.
Good.
That part of the day handled itself.
"Master Zevion," Ravel's voice cut through my thoughts, "if you are done staring at the wall dramatically, perhaps we can depart before the day ends?"
I blinked.
"Right, right. Lead the way, O Keeper of My Schedule."
She sighed.
"One of these days, I will charge you overtime."
"No way. You're still my zero-salary maid who works overtime."
...
The British Museum
Our first stop was the British Museum, a massive monument of white columns and judgmental statues that seemed to whisper, 'You don't belong here.'
Inside, the place was vast â marble floors, glass ceilings, and tourists everywhere.
"Would you look at that," I said, staring up at the Rosetta Stone encased in glass.
"A rock that made people smarter."
Ravel folded her arms.
"It allowed the deciphering of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs, Master. It is not 'a rock.'"
"It's a very famous rock," I corrected.
She pinched the bridge of her nose.
"I weep for history."
We wandered past mummies, ancient armor, and enough artifacts to make Indiana Jones jealous.
At one point, I leaned over a Roman statue.
"You think anyone ever realized how weird it is that all these statues are naked?"
"Classical art represents the ideal human form," she replied automatically.
"Sure, but they could've at least given them a towel."
"Master Zevion," she said sharply, "if you get us banned from the museum, I will personally drag you out by your collar."
I grinned.
"So you do care."
"I do care â about my dignity, at least more than you do!"
Her sigh could've powered a small windmill.
...
The Natural History Museum
Next was the Natural History Museum, where Ravel's patience met its natural predator: my curiosity.
"Look!"
I said, pointing at a gigantic dinosaur skeleton in the center hall.
"Now that's a pet worth feeding."
"Master, please refrain from adopting prehistoric creatures."
"Why not? I already have a Giratina."
"That one, at least, does not require meat deliveries the size of a bus."
I leaned closer to the skeleton plaque.
"You think this one was a dragon?"
"No, it's a Diplodocus."
"Same thing."
Ravel's silence was loud. Very loud.
Annoying her was always worth it.
We walked through halls filled with taxidermied animals, crystals, and geological displays.
At one point, I found a meteorite labeled 'origin unknown.'
"Huh. Bet it's just scrap metal," I muttered.
"Please do not attempt to defame museum property, especially in said museum," Ravel said immediately.
"Can't promise that."
She gave me a look that could cut steel.
...
The Science Museum
By the time we reached the Science Museum, Ravel was halfway between serenity and homicide.
"This one," I declared, "is my favorite. It has machines."
"I dread to ask why."
"Because machines don't argue."
I immediately proved myself wrong by setting off an interactive exhibit alarm.
The staff looked mildly alarmed; Ravel looked done with life.
"Master Zevion," she said, voice icy calm, "perhaps we should visit the art gallery next."
"Why? Because art can't explode?"
"Because if we stay here any longer, I might."
Point taken.
...
Afternoon Tea Break
We stopped at a small cafĂ© across the street â warm, quiet, and smelling like fresh pastries.
Ravel ordered proper English tea with a slice of lemon cake.
I got milk coffee with tons of sugar.
Again.
"So," she asked, "did you find London intellectually stimulating?"
"I found dinosaurs, space rocks, and angry British guards," I said. "So yeah, very educational. However, I didn't get which one was British. All I saw were from other countries. It's like we were on a world tour inside one city. Guess finding real British stuff in the British Museum is harder than finding items from other countries."
"You are hopeless."
"Yet strangely charming."
She didn't dignify that with an answer.
For a few quiet minutes, we just sat â she sipping tea elegantly, me watching the London traffic outside the window.
I thought about Giratina, silently combing through the city's shadows, and about how normal this moment felt in contrast.
Peaceful.
Mundane.
The kind of peace that never lasts long in my world.
"Ravel," I said suddenly, "thanks for putting up with me this whole trip."
She blinked, clearly caught off guard.
"You are unusually sentimental today."
"Must be the caffeine."
Her lips quirked â the faintest ghost of a smile.
"...You are welcome, Master."
By late noon, the clouds had shifted again, a soft gold light bathing the city streets.
"Alright," I said, standing up.
"Next stop â the art exhibition. Let's see what passes for beauty around here."
Ravel adjusted her gloves, all professionalism again.
"Let us hope you can behave for at least an hour."
"No promises."
"I mean," I added with a grin, "if I accidentally sneeze on an art piece, we should probably be ready to flee the country."
"Which we are tomorrow anyway," she replied dryly.
Either way, it was going to be a perfect end to our time in England.
Still, I learned one thing:
If you've got money to visit one country but want to see things from many countries, just come to England.
You'll get the most diverse collection of history, jewelry, and art pieces⊠all borrowed permanently.