Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent-Chapter 43: Ch : Why should I care about a Rumor? - Part 1

The leader of the ragtag group felt his eye twitch at Kyle’s careless words. His chair scraped against the floor as he stood up abruptly, his massive frame looming over the smaller noble.

"Do you even know who you’re messing with, kid?"

His deep voice rumbled through the room like a brewing storm.

Kyle, completely unbothered, tilted his head slightly and replied.

"Do you?"

Silence.

For a brief second, nobody spoke. Then—

Laughter erupted.

The men howled as if Kyle had just told the funniest joke in existence.

"This brat is delusional!"

One of them wiped tears from his eyes.

"Look at those thin arms! Can he even lift a sword?"

Another cackled.

The leader smirked, feeling as if the whole thing was a joke. With dramatic flair, he unsheathed his sword and spun it in the air.

The move was flashy, all style and no substance, meant to impress rather than intimidate.

"You sure you still wanna act tough, brat?"

The leader roared, his over-the-top performance meant to send a chill down Kyle’s spine.

Kyle?

Didn’t even blink.

The atmosphere shifted.

A sudden flutter of wings echoed in the tense room as Queen swooped down and landed gracefully on Kyle’s shoulder.

The leader barely had time to react when someone from the crowd gasped.

"T-That’s—!"

Suddenly, every single one of them turned toward Queen with wide eyes.

"Our lost treasure!"

The rowdy room turned eerily serious.

The gang members exchanged glances, nodding to one another as if coming to a silent agreement.

"We need to retrieve it at all costs."

The leader’s expression darkened. He clenched his sword tighter, his ego bruised by the way Kyle was ignoring him.

"Enough talk. I’ll just take it by force!"

He growled, eyes locked onto Queen.

Kyle, finally giving the leader a sliver of attention, reached up and gently stroked Queen’s feathers.

"Seems like it’s time to bury your past once and for all."

He murmured.

Queen let out a thrilled cry, its golden eyes burning with determination.

Then, with a powerful flap, Queen flipped backward, soaring into the air.

The leader charged.

His men followed.

A dozen bodies lunged toward Kyle, their weapons glinting in the dim light.

They never reached him.

A sudden explosion of mana erupted from Kyle, its invisible force crashing into them like a tidal wave.

The men were flung backward, their bodies slamming into the walls and tables like ragdolls. The air shook, the very foundation of the bar groaning under the sheer pressure of his aura.

The leader barely had time to register what had happened before his legs buckled beneath him.

"W-What…?"

That was the last thing he saw before—

CRACK.

The building collapsed.

The wooden beams snapped like twigs, and the ceiling caved in, sending dust and debris flooding the air.

For a moment, nothing but silence.

Then—

The dust cleared.

Only one figure remained standing.

Kyle.

He extended his hand.

A shadow moved through the settling dust, cutting through the destruction with effortless grace.

Queen swooped down, landing elegantly on Kyle’s outstretched arm.

The noble smirked.

"Good work."

The crowd that had gathered to watch the fight felt their jaws drop as the dust settled. They had just witnessed one of the most dangerous organizations in the region get completely obliterated in mere seconds.

It didn’t make sense.

These men had terrorized the town for years. Even the guards refused to touch them. And yet…

A fragile-looking noble had just walked in, crushed them, and walked out without a single scratch.

The onlookers tried to process what had just happened, but their brains short-circuited from sheer disbelief.

"Who… Who the hell is he?"

Someone whispered.

"He must be some kind of high-ranking knight in disguise!"

Another guessed.

Before anyone could throw out another wild theory, a loud voice cut through the silence—

"Young Master Kyle!"

Heads turned.

Kyle, who had been calmly brushing dust off his sleeves, sighed in irritation.

Bruce had finally caught up.

Bruce skidded to a stop, panting.

He had spent the past few minutes trying to chase after Kyle while Melissa held him back.

But now that the fight was over, he was finally able to catch up and scold his reckless master properly.

However—

The moment Kyle’s name left Bruce’s mouth, a few merchants in the crowd stiffened.

"Wait… Young master Kyle?"

One of them muttered.

"As in Kyle Armstrong?"

Another merchant asked, eyes widening in realization.

The name spread like wildfire.

Kyle felt his temples throb as he immediately knew what was about to happen.

"You mean the youngest son of Duke Armstrong?"

"The useless one?"

Murmurs turned into shocked gasps.

"H-How can that be possible?! The Duke’s youngest son is supposed to be a sickly weakling!"

"Maybe it’s a different Kyle Armstrong…?"

sSmeone offered weakly.

But the truth was right in front of them.

And it was horrifying.

The news spread like a plague.

By the end of the day, the entire town was buzzing with wild rumors about how the ’useless bastard of Armstrong’ had single handedly defeated an entire mafia.

But the rumors didn’t stop there.

Some versions of the story painted Kyle as a noble hero—a compassionate warrior who had risked his life to rid the town of evil.

Others, however, were… less flattering.

"I heard he ripped their spines out with his bare hands."

"No, no, I heard he set the whole building on fire while laughing."

"Apparently, he’s a sadist who enjoys torturing criminals."

"I heard he didn’t just kill them—he made them beg for death."

Bruce, who had the misfortune of overhearing these rumors the next day, felt his head throb violently.

"This is ridiculous!"

he muttered under his breath as he stomped toward Kyle’s room.

He had been hearing everything from town gossip to crazy conspiracy theories all morning, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

Without bothering to knock, Bruce slammed the door open.

Kyle, who had been peacefully reading a book, barely glanced up.

"…What?"

Kyle asked, flipping a page.

Bruce marched up to him, fuming.

"Young Master, do you even know what people are saying about you?!"

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Kyle slowly turned a page.

"I don’t really care."

"Well, YOU SHOULD!" Bruce exploded.

He threw his hands up in frustration.

"Half the town thinks you’re some saintly hero, while the other half thinks you’re a complete psychopath!"

Kyle finally looked up, his expression bored.

"And?"

Bruce’s eye twitched.

"AND?! YOU DON’T SEE A PROBLEM WITH THAT?!"

Kyle leaned back in his chair and rested his chin on his hand, looking mildly amused.

"Rumors will be rumors. Why should I care?"

Bruce gaped at him.

"Because—!"

Before Bruce could continue his rant, Queen, who had been peacefully preening its feathers, flapped its wings aggressively, sending Bruce stumbling backward.

Kyle snickered.

"See? Even Queen thinks you’re overreacting."

Bruce glared at the hawk.

"That damn bird—!"

Kyle closed his book with a satisfied sigh.

"Well, since the town is already full of rum

ors, I suppose we should just leave them be. Wouldn’t want to ruin their fun, right?"

Bruce looked like he was about to pass out.