Chapter 527
Chapter 527
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 527
Chapter Title: From Slave to Jester
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Excluding the five on duty, the twenty crew members, one slave, and one queen gathered for a celebratory party after successfully completing the mock training.
After Rurue's speech that dragged on for nearly twenty minutes, it was time to enjoy the feasts laid out on each table.
As Rurue had boldly proclaimed, today's menu was no ordinary affair.
Suckling pig roasted whole, basted repeatedly with boiling butter until crispy.
Beef stroganoff made by stir-frying thinly sliced beef with vegetables and simmering it in soup, served alongside mashed potatoes.
Black bread baked from a mix of rye and wheat.
Pirogi stuffed with ground meat and fruit puree.
And a bundle of fresh tropical fruits to top it off.
This mouthwatering spread was something rarely seen on the Akula.
And for good reason—all the ingredients could only be sourced from the surface.
Having stayed at the Jemernai estate, Siwoo's palate had naturally become more refined, and he quickly noticed that today's ingredients weren't frozen.
But with Rurue still mingling among the crew, he hadn't touched a single spoonful and was left waiting.
Watching Rurue laugh merrily from across the room stirred up all sorts of thoughts.
After his duel with the Witch of Cowardice, he'd read an introductory text on familiar management penned by Professor Sophia.
It stated that the higher the intelligence of a familiar, the more its cognitive and emotional processing abilities diminished.
Humans, in particular, had far more complex and varied parasympathetic synapse patterns than other creatures.
Thus, except for witches with special autonomic magic, their emotional recognition was essentially lost.
In other words, all of Rurue's interactions with the crew were mere doll play.
They couldn't harbor any true loyalty or respect toward her anyway.
The faint pity he'd felt for her stemmed from the fact that she was all alone in this vast submarine.
But lately, he'd started wondering if that hypothesis was really accurate.
To Siwoo, the crew acted like machines, but around Rurue, their vibe somehow shifted.
Of course, that was absurd.
It was no different from saying Siri developed emotions because he spoke kindly to it often.
More likely, newly learned patterns had been added to their existing algorithms, allowing for more convincing interactions.
After over ten years together, it was probably a well-tuned algorithm by now.
As his mind wandered, Rurue finished praising every crew member's contributions and plopped down at the head table, picking up her utensils.
"Still waiting, are you?"
"How could I possibly eat before Your Majesty?"
"Hmph! No need for that! On a joyous day like today, eat your fill without holding back."
"Your benevolence humbles me."
The land food after so long tasted incredible, each bite clinging perfectly to his tongue.
The pork, in particular, melted silkily in his mouth—a delicacy among delicacies.
As if waiting for him to try everything, Rurue flashed a confident smile just as he bit into the last pirogi.
"How is it? Anastasia the cook's skills. Impressive, no?"
For reference, all the crew had female names, which Rurue had assigned herself because their real ones were too drab.
"I've thought so for a while now—truly excellent."
"She could only open cans at first. I personally bestowed a cookbook and ordered her to master it."
She gazed fondly at the crew across the way, chatting idly as they ate.
Her eyes held the tender warmth of a mother watching her children.
"Not just Anastasia. They were all like marionettes who couldn't do a thing on their own at first. But captivated by my majesty and charisma, they now serve with true devotion."
"I see."
"Frustrating lot who can barely speak properly, but they're members of the Nukelavi Kingdom."
Pride and self-assurance emanated from Rurue as she puffed out her chest.
Whatever it looked like from the outside, if she was happy, wasn't that enough?
The thought flickered through his mind.
2.
A week had passed before he knew it.
The chaotic warehouse, which had left him clueless where to start, now showed decent progress after ten hours of sorting each day.
"Already finished sorting the warehouse? Such a diligent and hardworking slave."
Rurue entered the neatly organized treasure trove, hands on her hips, praising his efforts.
For the record, that pose—hands on hips, chest thrust out, chin raised—was Rurue's signature stance.
"I've compiled the inventory list here."
"Hmm..."
Rurue swept her hair behind her ear, donned her monocle with a snap, and scanned the list.
He found himself holding his breath unnecessarily, as if under performance review.
"Oh?"
Her gaze turned to Siwoo, brimming with surprise.
"Very well organized. I hadn't realized I had so many jewels."
But the praise fell short of expectations.
Compared to the childlike scribbles of prior records, this was meticulously detailed—worthy of astonishment.
Yet Rurue merely glanced at the neatly displayed gems without much reaction.
"Was there anything lacking on my part?"
"No. You poured your all into the task assigned."
Given Rurue's inability to lie, it was easy to spot the empty flattery.
She pondered briefly.
"...Gold and jewels just sparkle and that's it—no fun."
"Ah."
With five years of reading the room under his belt, he quickly grasped the source of her lukewarm response.
A simple sorting job could've been done by a mermaid.
But she'd brought a modern human slave specifically for the warehouse.
The reason: she wanted interpretations and explanations of modern artifacts.
Yet Siwoo had gotten distracted by the glittering gold bars right in front of him, prioritizing their sorting, while barely paying mind to the modern trash-like items.
She hadn't shown it outright, but her disappointment was inevitable.
"I'll need to consider your next assignment. Good work so far. Rest early today."
"I am honored."
He returned to his quarters.
Lying on the bed, he rolled around leisurely for the first time in ages.
Not just lounging—he was synthesizing the intel he'd gathered to plot an escape plan.
First, building some rapport with Rurue: success.
But he hadn't broached external contact or requests to leave.
Not out of fear of her, but recalling Takasho's offhand advice.
'If you want to persuade someone, go for the kill in one shot. People's hearts build up discomfort and pressure even from the refusals. Keep making futile requests, and eventually, negativity transfers to the persuasion itself.'
'So, time it perfectly and make your one and only request count—that's best.'
It had slipped out while drunk during his Rose Glass shifts, but it rang true, so he was taking it to heart.
Thus, rather than rushing escape, he focused on grasping the sub's situation and Rurue's tendencies.
The previous Nukelavi might've been a fearsome ancient witch, but she was cautious and cherished her apprentice.
She'd banned all external activity until Rurue overcame her 'trial,' even sealing the deep-sea kingdom with its legacies.
To honor that will, Rurue conducted magic research in this workshop, cut off from the outside world.
She showed curiosity but extreme wariness toward the exterior.
Her voice would stiffen instantly if he casually mentioned other witches or the outside.
So, no matter what, her learned caution wouldn't ease without sufficient intimacy.
In that context, Siwoo's surface task was earning her trust and affection.
"Hmm..."
Followed by analysis and countermeasures.
Rurue had voracious curiosity and plenty of idle time.
Per the worldview, she frequently chatted idly with slave Siwoo or held lengthy conversations, clearly bored.
So, entertain her, build trust, then plot escape.
Wasn't that optimal?
And he had relevant experience.
He'd dragged around zero-motivation Diana, playing playmate teacher.
"Is this why they prefer career folks?"
Reflecting anew on how tied to Gehenna he'd ended up doing all sorts of jobs, he went to find Rurue.
3.
Rurue sat atop a stack of magic books piled to her waist height in the magic library, engrossed in study.
As the place she spent most of her day, it wasn't hard to locate her.
"You mean... you'll become my court jester?"
"Is that how it comes across...?"
"Providing amusement to alleviate my boredom. What else is a jester's role?"
He'd made the tactful proposal upon finding her, and this was her response.
Rurue crossed her arms, tapping her bicep with a finger as she mulled it over.
The silence stretched long, but he could already guess her answer.
Her eyes had sparkled like a shower of stars the moment he suggested it.
"Hm. I am a busy ruler handling kingdom affairs and magic research. I have no time to spare for jests by appointing a slave as jester."
Running it through the translator, Rurue-speak boiled down to: 'Nodding outright would bruise my pride, so give me a plausible excuse to push for it.'
"A wise point. However, proper rest boosts work efficiency. Amusement is a form of rest and will aid Your Majesty's reign."
"Hmm..."
Rurue nodded as if that sufficed.
Had she a tail, it'd be wagging furiously—she sprang up abruptly.
"A wise monarch heeds even the lowest voices. Though you're merely a slave, I've noted your loyal counsel."
"I am honored."
"Commence your duties at once!"
And so, a week later, he was promoted from slave to jester.
Whether it truly counted as a promotion, he wasn't sure.