My Glitched World Throne System Came Ten Years Too Early!

As Roderic sat down in the back of his carriage, a smirk couldn’t help but grow on his face.

’’Let’s see,’’ he muttered, tapping on the wooden armrest. ’’The next main goal I have would obviously have to be kicking Margaret out.’’

It was pretty simple.

The longer a tumor like that remained inside the family, the higher the chance became that she could do something stupid.

’I would prefer just sending her right out the door or even killing her for sending an assassin after me,’ Roderic thought, folding his arms behind his head. ’But that isn’t as straightforward as it might seem.’

Not to mention killing her, even throwing her out could trigger the territorial war ahead of time.

And he wasn’t even close to prepared for that!

’’Before that, I need three things,’’ he muttered, glancing up. ’’Status, money and a small private force.’’

The most important amongst them was getting status.

Without at least a little credibility behind his name, there’d be no chance for people to work for him or to gain access to the family’s money.

’’But what’s the best way for me to gain status?’’ he pondered, frowning slightly.

Several ideas popped up right away.

Roderic could go on a hunt for magical beasts like he’d done in the forest.

He could go around challenging strong people throughout the territory.

Or perhaps he could solve some troublesome people around the barony.

Before long, he let out a deep sigh.

’’I’ll just have to see once I get there,’’ he mumbled, stretching out.

Roderic slowly closed his eyes.

All he could think about was the nice, seasoned food and warm baths he could take once he was back.

Time quietly passed by inside the carriage.

Before long, it began slowing down significantly.

Roderic let out a loud yawn as he opened his eyes.

Looking through the carriage window, the familiar walls of Whitemane Manor gradually came into view.

’’I’m back,’’ he said, smiling widely.

Just then, his carriage came to a complete stop.

Only a few seconds later, several soft knocks echoed from the wooden door on the side.

’’Young Master?’’ a respectful voice sounded from outside.

Roderic slowly pushed the curtains aside.

’’What is it?’’ he asked, tilting his head faintly.

The coachman, a simple man in his forties, awkwardly scratched the back of his head.

”My apologies, Young Master, but a long line has formed in front of the main gate. It looks like several merchant caravans have arrived at the manor.”

Roderic glanced past him.

Sure enough, dozens of wagons lined the road, servants and laborers busily unloading crates one after another.

”Mhm, so what now?”

The coachman smiled apologetically.

”I’m afraid the carriage won’t be getting through anytime soon...” he said, his voice trailing off. ”We can wait here or—”

Roderic raised his hand.

’’It’s fine,’’ he said, completely unbothered. ’’I’ll get off here and walk the remaining distance.’’

The coachman bowed respectfully, then quickly opened the carriage door and stepped aside.

Roderic stood up with a groan, stretching his arms above his head before taking a deep breath.

Jumping out, he landed on the beautifully paved road, lined by countless simple medieval houses and stores.

’’It’s been a while since I last walked through the territory,’’ he said, smiling widely.

If he didn’t count the memories he’d inherited, this would even be his first time.

Without another word, he adjusted the hook blades on his back and began making his way towards the manor.

As he walked along the road, his gaze naturally wandered across the long line of wagons.

Whether it was horseshoes, nails, saddles, reins, tools or other supplies, several crates were slowly being unloaded.

A little farther ahead, blacksmiths and stable hands immediately inspected the products, occasionally nodding in satisfaction.

’’Mhm,’’ he mumbled quietly. ’’I think I’ve seen this merchant group before.’’

His gaze flickered over to their banners, each with a golden lion proudly embroidered on a deep red background.

’’The Gold Lion Merchants, huh,’’ he muttered, tilting his head.

According to his memories, this was one of the largest merchant groups that visited the region. Most importantly, it sold tons of specific items they needed.

’’Still, a golden lion banner?’’ he mused. ’’That certainly brings back some memories from Earth.’’

With one last glance at the merchant caravan, Roderic chuckled lightly as he continued towards the manor.

Civilian workers hurried past him in every direction, each heading straight for the merchants to help with the crates or purchase what they needed.

Even amongst all that, several children ran through the streets happily. Some got scolded by their parents. Others hurried away before that could happen.

’It’s so full of life,’ he thought, smiling. ’A normal town in medieval times... truly amazing to live in.’

Just as he was about to reach the gates of his manor, a familiar laugh echoed loudly ahead.

’’Hahaha! I told you he couldn’t lift it!’’

Roderic began slowing down, his brows furrowing.

’It’s that fucker,’ he thought, glancing at a nearby store.

His eyes locked onto a small crowd of people, all of whom surrounded a familiar lanky, tall man and a fatso with a face only a mother could love.

Both had real swords on their belts and wore knight-like armor... at least the parts that fit, that is.

They were pointing at a scrawny man with sunken eyes and hollowed-out cheeks, laughing as he struggled to lift a small wooden crate filled with metal items.

’’Come on! Come on!’’ the fatso shouted, laughing hysterically. ’’Lift it or you won’t get your money!’’

The lanky man lowered himself and started mimicking the man.

’’Come on, lift it! Do it for your children!’’ he said before bursting into laughter.

And the group of civilians standing around them? They were simply watching.

Some forced a smile. Others didn’t even bother and looked on in horror.

’’Well,’’ Roderic said, narrowing his eyes. ’’If it isn’t Jabba the Hutt and Doofenshmirtz.’’

A grin slowly spread across his face as he picked up a rock from the ground.

’’What a good chance to earn a little reputation...’’ he chuckled. ’’And not to mention, some well-needed revenge!’’