Chapter 43
Chapter 43
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: How to Survive as the Second Son of a Magical Noble House
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“Hmm, yeah~ It says here too that he's estimated to be in his late twenties to early thirties. Now I get why you're taking this so calmly, Lucas.”
Narke smiled softly as he flipped through another booklet. Leo, who had been rubbing his forehead with dead eyes, lifted only his eyelids to look at me and asked quietly.
“I know you told me before that there's no need to block the yellow press... but after seeing today's article myself, you're not still thinking of letting them use you, are you?”
“Correct.”
“Haa...”
Leo pressed his palms hard against his eyes.
It was astonishing how someone who acted like he'd die if he didn't follow every procedure to the letter could be such close friends with Elias.
Well, in the end, he did share some similarities with Elias.
Otherwise, he couldn't have stuffed the Wittelsbach with bribes to secure fake identity citizenship papers.
At that moment, Narke, who had been staring at me intently, spoke up.
“Lucas.”
“Hm?”
“You must be tired... but I have a feeling you'll pull through. Hang in there.”
He must have used his precognition ability.
It meant the overall flow wasn't looking too bad.
“Thanks.”
“Hey, you said this guy has anthropophobia and doesn't meet anyone. Can't you guys at least get your stories straight if you're reporting on the same person?”
Elias cackled again.
I smiled back at him.
“This works out perfectly for me.”
“Pretty laid-back, aren't you? Enjoying the feeling that everyone in the country is an idiot except us?”
“Well, I wouldn't say that's not part of it. In terms of grasping the truth or the trust the public feels, it's a total disaster.”
No matter how much they try to piece it together, it has to make sense for them to be convinced.
This was a fight they were doomed to lose from the start, since Nikolaus wasn't a real person who existed until the second half of this year.
“Trust~ I like that. It's over already.”
“Yeah. The people who get hooked will dig up more gossip articles mentioning me.”
“If it were me, I'd scrape the bottom of the newsstand racks. Honestly, after dealing with the barrier aptitude issue, I was planning to track down where this Nikolaus guy even came from.”
“......”
A sudden chill crept over my skin.
I nodded as casually as possible.
“...Yeah. I see. But what if every article you open contradicts the others?”
“Annoying as hell. So which one's real? Fine, my fault for trying to find out here... right?”
Elias shrugged.
Exactly.
Even without that 'I must uncover the truth' attitude, it was the same.
When every article said something different, it gave them a chance to realize that what they were reading wasn't reliable information—it was just sensational gossip for clicks.
Of course, consistency would still benefit them.
With all this false info floating around, what damage could a few matching stories do?
Either way, it was just amusing and convenient for me.
Just then, Leo frowned at the mounting pile of false information.
“Wait. Come to think of it... how did the anthropophobia thing even come up?”
“They interviewed someone who claimed to be Nikolaus's friend from childhood. You read it, right, Luca?”
“Yeah.”
It was an interview with someone from the Papal States.
He claimed to have had a friend named Nikolaus as a kid.
That 'Nikolaus' had pulled off all sorts of implausible magic-like feats since childhood, then vanished one day and hadn't been seen since.
Magic wasn't always inherited genetically—sometimes a full non-mage family produced a sudden mage.
He probably pegged that Nikolaus as one of those cases.
Of course, it wasn't me, but it was an impressively detailed and useful scenario.
Leo pulled down the corner of his mouth in disbelief and asked.
“What, a friend of Nikolaus's?”
“Yeah.”
“...There aren't just one or two Nikolauses in the world or something...”
Leo muttered skeptically.
I agreed.
But from the yellow press's perspective, fact-checking like that didn't matter.
As long as it had enough specifics and a compelling hook, they'd run with it. The public didn't scrutinize every article's veracity either.
'Time to check again.'
First, the proposal.
[Chapter 4. Constant Droplets Pierce the Stone (2)]
Proposal 3: [Impression] Score 5 Defense (?/N) (152 hours 17 minutes 53 seconds)
* Route 1 — [Chapter 5. Good Things Take Time (1)]
* Route 2 — [Chapter 5. Don't Praise the Day Before Evening Falls]
A 5-point defense.
Keep it from dropping to the 4s.
It was a razor-thin margin, in a way.
Rounded to three decimal places, it was exactly 5.
Even rounding at four decimals gave 5.002.
Still, there was hope.
What it meant by scores getting harder to raise was something like this:
Going from stage 1 to 2 took 10 million, but 2 to 3 took 100 million. Even if values dropped, stages didn't fall easily.
Lucas René Ascanien
Impression: -9.9 (+0.1) [+5.0015129]
'It dropped from 15131 to 15129 in the meantime.'
Still, at this rate, it was just hovering in place.
With a nationwide outlet like Dasrote attacking me, it could plummet in 1-point increments like the 3-point surge from the live broadcast.
Their coverage benefited me, sure, but I wasn't letting my guard down—time to recalculate thoroughly.
“What time did today's Dasrote come out?”
“Six AM.”
Leo answered softly.
Newspapers printed at 6 AM and 6 PM, with sales peaking around those times.
Now past 11:50 PM, today's impression changes were already in the books.
It must have zigzagged up and down...
But the live broadcast and Bavaria press conference kept it trending upward so far.
'The real test starts tomorrow.'
Dasrote was a daily.
Once they started seriously reporting the seven-legged spider nonsense, my impression score would dip bit by bit.
Too many people took the tabloids seriously to dismiss it as pure fantasy.
That's what could drive someone to ruin.
Depending on credibility, it might plunge sharply, not just a little.
“Leo, when are you doing the intimidation?”
“Planning a meeting tomorrow evening.”
Rubbing his temples with eyes closed, looking distraught from all the headaches, Leo replied.
“Good. Thanks in advance.”
“I'd do it sooner if I could... If you can't stand it, just say so. I'll head back to Bavaria in the morning and tell Mother.”
“Oho, so you can skip school like this~”
Elias chuckled from the side.
“...! You think I'm skipping to goof off like you?!”
“Yeah...? I was just jealous this time?! What kind of track record do I have that you assume the worst~?”
Well... it was hard not to assume.
I thought the same as Leo.
“And I wasn't slacking! I was out on surveys.”
“Surveys for three straight months?!”
I shook my head, cutting off their bickering.
“It's fine. That much time is plenty.”
By tomorrow evening... the seven-legged insanity would still be running.
Whether it dragged into a long war was the key anyway.
Coverage after the day after would drop my story. Not completely, but the over-the-top sensationalism would fade.
That's when I'd need to pick apart their decisions one by one.
Wasn't the timing of dropping my story a bit off?
Why air it right at the start when support was rising?
'Idiots.'
To maximize damage, they'd need a solid scandal when I was seen as an untouchable saint.
What made them skip waiting for the peak?
I leaned back in my chair, tapping the pen tip on the paper.
Watching the ink seep in cleared my thoughts.
Obvious.
They wanted quick sales from juicy headlines and photos.
If burying Nikolaus socially was the goal, they wouldn't run clickbait like '37 Reasons He Wears a Mask.'
With interest exploding from the live feed, now was prime time for profits.
'Scrape some moderate heat for a dopamine hit now, and if support climbs again later... drop a real bombshell then for double the sales.'
Sorry, but as a student then, they'd never get another shot.
Anyway, motives sorted.
No lobby pushing them to the brink, so this fight was winnable.
I just had to enjoy the truth muddied like dirty water and keep impression from hitting the 4s.
* * *
“Lucas, whatcha reading?!”
At 3 PM, Pie climbed onto my shoulder and peered at the booklet I held.
“Trash.”
“How do you read trash? Isn't it a magazine?”
“Nope. It is now.”
I tossed the booklet into the incinerator behind the school and headed straight for the dorm.
'[Status Window.]'
Lucas René Ascanien
Impression: -9.9 [+5.0008931]
Down from 15129 to 8931.
The 10,000s had crumbled.
Reason was obvious.
People actually buying into Dasrote's absurd, impossible claims.
Did they think I had time to juggle seven lovers?
Or just believed it because it was entertaining.
'Still, only 6,000 down? Not bad.'
The coverage was craftier than I'd expected.
Yesterday's Dasrote cover was typical tabloid schlock, but today's featured my photo.
A close-up from the charity event window, cropped so my eyes showed clearly.
The editing, angle, and mask curves made me look like a total villain. Uncanny how they picked that exact shot for the cover.
It included three or four fake interviews.
Standard tactic across controversy beats.
And the most shocking: fabricated photos.
Someone my build, dressed as Nikolaus, scenes staged plausibly.
'They put real effort in.'
But the score shift showed poor ROI.
If it landed as intended, it'd be in the 3s by now, not scraping 5.
Not ignorable, though. Left unchecked, it'd hit 4s before midnight.
Still...
'About 3 hours left.'
Decline ends in 3 hours.
See how low it goes before then.
I changed clothes, warped to the Bavaria border, got clearance, and headed to Investigation HQ.
I'd met the chamberlain today for meds, so skipping school was justified.
Time was around 3:30 now.
Entering the assigned room, a detective recognized and greeted me.
“You're here.”
“Yes. Any update on progress?”
“We just wrapped everything up.”
He pulled the paper from the typewriter and bundled it.
“No Bavarians among them. All Prussians, commoners in rough financial straits. None of the four had much outside contact. No mages, naturally.”
“I see.”
“Here, take a look. Flag anything needing more digging.”
“Yes.”
I took the file he handed over.
[Dasrote Issues 11-14 Analysis]
Contacted Bavaria yesterday to investigate today's dawn edition.
To devote a full page to the seven-legged claim, they needed compelling evidence to hook readers.
But obviously none existed, so they'd fabricate it themselves.
And sure enough, fake interviews and photos ran.
Turning the page revealed the photo from Dasrote.
'Greta Welter.'
The one claiming a lover's relationship with me.
Strictly speaking, she didn't claim it.
Dasrote wrote the interview; she just provided the photo.
Next to it: residence, job, workplace, family—full profile.
In the novel's era, this probe would've taken ages... but magic worlds advanced half a century ahead here.
'Fast and convenient. In real history, they might not have found her.'
I closed the file and slipped it into the envelope he offered.
“This is sufficient. Thank you.”
“No trouble. Where to next?”
I recalled the first page's residence and answered.
“Schlau first.”
“Then we'll inform His Highness the Crown Prince that Excellency departed for the Schlau region at 3:50.”
“Yes.”
I nodded briefly and left, heading back to school.
Time to fetch Narke.
* * *
“Is Greta Welter in?”
Narke and I had come to find the woman I'd supposedly been secretly dating for years.
Narke, in a suspicious white mask, seemed to be enjoying this, grinning nonstop.
Couldn't see his face, but the breathy chuckles gave it away.
'Watching him... he's not exactly normal either.'
All high schoolers before exams were like that, though.
Based on my own second-year days, anyway.
I'd brought Narke because I needed his insight ability today.
From here, I'd get the photo subject to confess the truth herself, then testify at the bureau.
Needed someone for fact-checking.
A bit exploitative, but... he'd wanted to sneak into restricted areas incognito last time too, so no guilt.
With Leo skipping for Bavaria today, looping in Narke—who hadn't picked a purification contract yet—was easy cover.
Officially, at least. He was actually here.
Then, the wooden door rattled.
Creeeak—
“Who is it...”
Someone opened it, eyes widening at us.
The woman from Dasrote's photo raised her voice, stunned yet thrilled.
“Ah, Lord Nikolaus? It is you, isn't it?!”