Chapter 263: Double-edged Sword(2)
Chapter 263: Double-edged Sword(2)
Chon-cheol-sal-in.
A pithy remark that strikes home. It literally means "killing with a tiny piece of metal," a metaphor for piercing an opponent's vitals with sharp words. It serves as a reminder that human speech can always be a weapon.
Often referred to as a "stinging rebuke" or a "fact bomb," this idiom emphasizes the immense power inherent in words. When taken to the extreme, they can utterly destroy a person's life.
Indeed, human speech possesses terrifying potential. The one who can coax a man with the strength of a hundred into becoming their subordinate is the one with a silver tongue.
This applies to everyday life as well. Being too well-spoken often gets one labeled as "insolent," but it all depends on how those words are used.
And the words I just handed to Count Letiz could certainly be described as a chon-cheol-sal-in. If the Count had claimed it was suicide, I would have had to launch into a long, logical tirade; since he answered "murder," things couldn't be easier.
In my previous life, parents like Count Letiz were everywhere. They were a common breed in places with abnormally high educational fervor, like Korea, India, or China.
Every person has a set limit for what they can endure. If they cannot withstand the pressure, they break—physically and mentally. And the end of that road is stepping through the exit called death.
When faced with such children, people tend to blame the parents rather than the child. They point fingers and condemn them, saying, "You're the one who drove your child to this."
Under such criticism, most parents offer the same excuses.
I didn't know the child was struggling that much. I only did it because I wanted them to succeed.
Of course, if you look closely at their words, they aren't entirely wrong. Parents have, at the very least, experienced more life and more accidents than their children, and they've gained no small amount of realization from them.
But that’s a joke. A parent is meant to be a guide who keeps a child on the straight and narrow, not a puppeteer who controls them at will.
One must clearly understand the difference between the two, which illustrates just how difficult the role of a parent is.
You must guide them toward a righteous path while ensuring they don't stray, yet you must not resort to total control and suppression. I can confidently say that no parent can do all of this perfectly at once.
Especially in Cherry's case—if a child is emotionally crushed before they can even experience puberty, their future is nothing but bleak.
Even if it seems effective in the short term, most of these children live with depression and self-loathing, and that doesn't change even after they become adults.
In that sense, Count Letiz is severely lacking in his qualifications as a parent. He adopted a twisted philosophy to govern his child's education according to his own tastes, and further, he manipulated her like a doll.
It is no exaggeration to call him an attempted murderer for nearly driving a child with a bright future to suicide.
"..."
When I told him he had nearly become an attempted murderer while wearing a bright smile, Count Letiz looked utterly dumbfounded.
His face was a kaleidoscope of complex emotions, as if he couldn't comprehend what he had just heard.
I maintained my smile while watching his face. Even if he had misinterpreted philosophy, Count Letiz was an intelligent man.
He surely understood the weight of my words. And sure enough...
Count Letiz’s eyes filled with shock before he slowly turned his head. Sitting beside him, naturally, was his dearly beloved daughter, Cherry.
"...Cherry?"
"..."
"Did you really..."
He seemed so deeply shaken that his voice trembled. Throughout this, Cherry didn't even turn her head.
Instead, she merely scooted her hips away, expressing that she didn't even want to be near him. It was an indirect gesture, but for Cherry, it was an extreme reaction.
A child raised normally doesn't openly despise their parents. Furthermore, those who grow up without properly forming a personality, like Cherry, often become literal dolls.
However, after meeting me and publishing her own book, she was slowly forming her own identity. Before, she would have just sat there motionless.
'Though being stared at like this is a bit burdensome.'
Even as she moved away from her father, she was staring intently at me. In her dark eyes, a light flickered on and off like a dying battery.
I looked back and forth between Count Letiz, who seemed even more shocked than before, and Cherry, who was rejecting him, and felt a sense of bitterness.
It was unfortunate, but the bridge between them had long since been burned. It would take a very long time for the father-daughter relationship to recover.
Perhaps they would become worse than strangers. As seen with Adelia, blood ties don't automatically make a family.
This wasn't a problem I could solve, so I couldn't offer any specific advice. However, I was confident I could make Count Letiz realize his mistakes.
In the suddenly heavy atmosphere, I spoke up.
"You said it earlier, Count. You said that while there is no set path in philosophy, there is an established one. But for a child, even that established path is not permitted. You think of the parent as the stem and philosophy as the root."
"..."
"But that's not it. A parent must faithfully play the role of the root, not the stem. The child, who grows by receiving nutrients from the root, is the stem, the branches, the leaves, the flowers, and the fruit. That fruit eventually falls back to the earth to create another plant. There is nothing 'established' about a person's growth. If there were, humanity would never have progressed this far."
Hearing my words, Count Letiz tore his gaze away from Cherry and looked at me. Perhaps because the shock was so great, he remained dazed, unable to say a word.
This situation actually worked in my favor. If he had started screaming like some typical old fogey, it would have been incredibly exhausting.
Still, his love for Cherry was genuine; if he had truly viewed her as a tool, he wouldn't have reacted this way.
As the saying goes, too much is as bad as too little. His excessive love, combined with a flawed philosophy, had birthed this tragedy.
"The act of repeatedly trampling a sprout before it can even bloom because it doesn't suit your taste... Count, you mercilessly crushed Cherry until she could sprout the stem of philosophy. All while unaware that the stem would eventually rot before it could even grow."
"...What do you know?"
"Pardon?"
Had he recovered from the shock to some extent? Count Letiz asked me in a deeply lowered voice.
He then pursed his lips and rebuked me, his tone suggesting he refused to lose any more, clinging to his meager pride.
"What do you know about Cherry that gives you the right to say such things?"
Was it his pride, or was it the desperation of a miserable father?
Perhaps it was both. As I said before, Count Letiz’s love for Cherry was real.
He probably wanted to deny it. The idea that his beloved daughter almost committed suicide because of his own warped beliefs.
Naturally, when people are hit with a fact bomb, they tend to get defensive out of pride. It was lucky Count Letiz was a nobleman; otherwise, we would have been trading curses by now.
Even this could be considered quite refined. Despite his flawed methods, he possessed the basic temperament of a philosopher.
And I had the logic to dismantle his argument head-on. I remembered it clearly, as it was a very famous saying in my previous life.
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"Yes. I am merely Cherry's senior; I am not family like you, Count. I know what kind of dreams she has, but I don't know what food she likes, what clothes she prefers, or what her favorite color is. I know nothing."
"Then why..."
Before Count Letiz could finish, I cut him off and spoke firmly.
"That is exactly why I can accept her."
"..."
"Because I am curious about who Cherry is, I dig deeper, and eventually, I learn what she truly wants. I don't arrogantly assume I know her and force what I think is right onto her. Instead, I view her traits as her own individuality and can support her dreams."
I know that I know nothing. This was one of the greatest realizations of the philosopher Socrates.
People tend to become conceited about what they know. But just as a deep well becomes immeasurably dark, knowledge is no different.
Even I, with my extensive knowledge of history, am a mere novice compared to Elena and Cindy. Even Elena burns with academic passion, claiming there is still a vast amount of history she doesn't know.
People are the same. Because I know nothing about who a person is or what they like, I can accept them for their own unique individuality.
"Count. Earlier, you asked me what philosophy is. I believe there is no clear answer even to that question. Because even the question you asked is philosophy."
"..."
"The root of philosophy begins with 'Why?' Therefore..."
The merciless carpet-bombing of facts was over. Now was the time to make a polite 'request.'
Before making the request, I glanced at Cherry to check her condition. The light had completely returned to her eyes, and they even seemed vibrant.
She was clutching her hands tightly, looking as if she were anticipating something. I didn't know what she was expecting, but I had to say what needed to be said.
I looked Count Letiz, who was still confused, straight in the eye and made a polite request.
"Please support Cherry's dream, Count."
"..."
"Just once. Even just once is fine. Please wait until the child named Cherry sprouts and, eventually, blooms."
I bowed my head deeply as I made the polite request. I didn't know what expression Count Letiz was making, but I intended to wait until he spoke.
From Count Letiz’s perspective, this situation was likely incomprehensible. No matter how we met by chance, I was nothing more than a third party.
I was taking a significant risk by arguing with a Count, and the potential return for taking that risk was unclear.
"...Why?"
"..."
"You are merely her senior at the Academy... why go this far?"
The situation unfolded as expected. However, unlike before, his tone had changed.
It was a sign of his shifting psychological state and a newfound respect for me. It seemed he had already made up his mind.
I slowly raised my head. His blue eyes were filled with confusion and questions.
I wanted to reveal that I was Xenon, but it wasn't time yet. He would realize it naturally once he found out Cherry had published a book.
More importantly, I already had a suitable answer prepared for a moment like this.
I looked away from the confused Count and toward Cherry. She was clutching her hands tight, her face full of anticipation.
I smiled at her and answered with all my heart.
"Because Cherry's writing is so much fun. To let it rot like this..."
To be honest.
"I thought it would be such a waste."
More than a waste, it would be a cultural tragedy.
*
After that, the situation was settled somewhat vaguely. Count Letiz said he had much to think about and left the table, saying he needed a moment.
Well, he certainly had plenty to think about. I suspected he might head straight back to his estate without looking back.
From his perspective, his firm philosophy had just come crashing down around him. There is nothing more painful than having one's convictions shattered.
Still, I was a bit worried that he might lodge a formal protest, claiming I had insulted his honor. I just had to pray he wasn't a petty man who held grudges.
Anyway, after Count Letiz left, it was just Cherry and me. A cup of coffee the Count hadn't finished sat lonely on the table.
"...Thank you."
As I stared silently at the coffee, Cherry's fragile voice reached my ears. I immediately shifted my gaze.
Cherry was staring at me, her hands clasped tightly. Her eyes were still as vacant as ever.
Still, it was a much better look than the previous gloom.
"Don't mention it. It was a problem that had to be solved eventually."
I replied, taking a sip of my Americano, the ice now completely melted. It wasn't just empty talk; this was a situation that had to be faced sooner or later.
Now, I just had to wait and see if Cherry would gain wings or face even greater hardships depending on the Count's choice. I sincerely hoped for the former.
'I'm not exactly thrilled about my identity being revealed, though.'
Count Letiz would probably be in a dilemma, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. He had been carpet-bombed with facts, only to find out the culprit was Xenon.
Perhaps he would let it go, thinking, Well, it's because it's Xenon. I just hoped no strange situations would arise.
I slowly set down my cup and looked at Cherry. A cup of black tea sat before her, but she hadn't taken a single sip.
Just as I was about to tell her to drink up and relax...
"Senior."
"You should drink your tea—hm?"
"Is there anything you want from me, Senior?"
A rather out-of-the-blue question came from Cherry's lips. My initial confusion was quickly replaced by shock at what happened next.
Cherry's eyes were getting... brighter and brighter. Along with this, the disguise magic Cecile had cast began to unravel, and her brown hair slowly returned to its original pink.
Returning to her natural colors wasn't a big deal. Since her identity had already been exposed to Count Letiz, there was nothing left to hide.
However, the return of life to her previously dark eyes was unusual. It clearly meant a significant psychological shift had occurred.
I stared into her pink eyes, which were brightening like a lightbulb with fresh batteries, and spoke in a hesitant voice.
"Uh... not really? I just hope you keep writing books."
"Anything else?"
"Besides that..."
"If you wish, I can give you my everything."
"What?"
What kind of bizarre nonsense was this? Startled, I looked at Cherry and realized something was off.
She wasn't just brightening; she was shining with an almost radiant glow. Life was sprouting in eyes that had been depressed only moments ago.
No. It was contradictory, but they were 'shining darkly.' There was no other way to describe her eyes.
"What do you need? My body? Or my heart? Just say the word. I don't care if you tell me to walk the streets naked right now, and if you command me to die, I will gladly do so. And..."
"Wait, wait. Just hold on a second."
I hurried to stop Cherry as she became increasingly overheated. It was as if a switch had been flipped, and she was suddenly slamming on the accelerator.
I had a rough idea of why she was acting like this, but this was far too much. I knew her thought process was centered entirely on 'me,' but it felt like that had intensified.
Let's stop here for now. When I held up a hand to intervene, Cherry shut her mouth like an obedient puppy.
But seeing the corners of her mouth curled up almost to her ears and her eyes filled with ecstasy, she was by no means normal.
"Whew... Cherry."
"Yes, Senior."
"Then, is there anything you want from me?"
Let's change the subject first. I felt like I had just glimpsed a fragment of a never-ending madness.
And as if to prove my prediction, Cherry gave an answer that left me agape.
"Just please don't throw me away."
"..."
At the same time, her darkly shining eyes sank deep like an abyss. Her voice also hit rock bottom, perfectly expressing her psychological state.
I couldn't close my mouth at Cherry's condition, which seemed even more serious than before. I felt like she really would do anything I commanded.
That made it even scarier. This wasn't a relationship between a senior and a junior; it was master and slave.
Even Cecile and Kate weren't this extreme. If Cecile's devotion and Kate's fanaticism were mixed to create a terrible hybrid, it would look exactly like this.
"I'll do anything, so..."
Cherry's late-onset puberty...
"Please don't abandon me."
...was severely twisted.
"Understand?"
Karma had come back all at once.