I Became a Mesugaki (3)
The moment I knocked on the door, a dignified voice drifted out from within.
"Enter."
I had to shove my way through a door that stood twice my height, and by the time it swung open, I was gasping for breath.
Pathetic mesugaki body. Just how little exercise had this thing gotten in the past, for it to be in this state?
After a few deep breaths to steady myself, I stepped inside, and Benedict Allen—Lucy's father, buried in paperwork at his desk—lifted his head.
A slightly raised eyebrow and unreadable eyes. A magnificent beard covering his mouth and a chiseled jawline. Beneath it all, a mass of muscle so enormous I couldn't tell where his neck ended and his shoulders began.
Overall, Benedict gave the impression of something closer to an orc or a troll than a man. He met my gaze, and then his face split into a smile so soft it clashed completely with everything else about him.
"Lucy. What brings you here?"
To everyone else, Benedict was the Iron-Blooded Count, an object of sheer terror. But before Lucy, he was nothing more than a fool of a father.
It was no wonder Lucy had grown into the tyrant of the estate. When a man this frightening doted on her hand and foot, who in the world could ever scold her?
'I just came because I wanted to see you.'
"Stupid Father. Why would I need a reason to come see you?"
"Now that you mention it, you're absolutely right! My Lucy doesn't need a reason to come see her father!"
There it is. Look at him, over the moon just from being called an idiot by his own daughter.
This man would probably beam with pride even if Lucy called him pathetic and useless.
Benedict, still wearing that melting grin, set down his quill and spread both arms wide.
When I'd first possessed Lucy's body, I hadn't understood what that gesture meant. Now I did.
After three days of suffering at the hands of this daughter-fool of a troll, I knew exactly what he wanted.
I didn't want to do it. Honestly, biting off my own tongue sounded preferable. But right now, I was the one asking Benedict for something.
The better I kept that troll's mood, the higher the odds he'd grant my request later.
Right. This can't be helped. For the sake of my survival, it must be done.
Having recited that to myself, I squeezed my eyes shut and leaped into the troll's arms.
I wasn't worried about anything going wrong.
Even if I put my full weight into a body slam, I couldn't leave so much as a scratch on him.
Benedict caught me easily and let out a hearty laugh.
"Lucy, jumping in with your eyes closed like that is dangerous, you know."
'I trusted you.'
"Stupid Father. What kind of weakling can't even catch his own daughter?"
"Perish the thought. Who do you take me for?"
Benedict's eyes crinkled with a smile, and with a hand larger than Lucy's own face, he swept the hair back from my head.
He looked like a man with no trace of delicacy in him, yet his touch was impossibly gentle.
So gentle that even I—nothing more than a stranger in this girl's skin—could tell just how dearly Benedict cherished Lucy.
'Um.'
"Stupid Father."
"Yes? What is it, Lucy?"
'A favor...'
"There's something I want to ask you."
"Ask away, my dear."
'In a few months...'
"The Academy entrance exams are coming up soon, aren't they?"
I am a cute daughter.
I am this troll's cute daughter.
...Wait, can a troll even produce a cute daughter?
Whatever. Don't think about it. Right now, the only thing that matters is winning Benedict over.
'Well...'
"I've been worrying about it..."
Lucy is pretty. So pretty that even the most cloying, shriveling gestures come across as adorable.
For instance, if she perched herself on Benedict's knee and kicked both legs like she was splashing in a bath, she'd look exactly like a little girl weighed down by grave worries!
"Is that so? Then tell me, what can your father do for you? Whatever it is, if it's within my power, I'll move heaven and earth!"
The daughter-fool Benedict folded instantly.
Convinced his daughter had a serious problem on her mind, he stroked his chin and spoke with the gravity of a royal decree.
It's not my place to say, but are you sure about this?
"I'll do anything" is not the kind of promise a man should toss around so carelessly!
Not that I have any intention of stopping him.
'Really?'
"Really?"
"Of course! When has your father ever lied to you?"
Well, then. Can't be helped.
It's not like I can refuse something he's offering.
The man wants to play the dashing father, so the least I can do is let him have his moment.
'Then...'
"Then can I take what I need from the storehouse?"
"Is there something in there you want?"
'Yes!'
"Mm-hm!"
"Then take whatever you like."
Benedict declared it with a beaming smile, so I smiled right along with him.
You did say whatever I like, didn't you?
Which means whatever I take, and however much of it, is hardly my fault now, is it? You gave permission. Your fault entirely.
The moment I escaped the study—having spent the last several minutes pandering to Benedict with every aegyo trick in my repertoire to keep his mood aloft—I nearly retched.
The psychological damage was catastrophic.
To think the day would come when I'd have to butter up a man. I'd resolved long ago that if survival demanded it, I'd throw dignity to the winds—but this one still stung deep.
Just this once, I was grateful for the Mesugaki skill.
If the skill hadn't forced my behavior at least partway, I would have collapsed on the spot.
Still, the gains were substantial.
I now had permission to take whatever I wanted from the Arln family storehouse.
The time had come to show off the farming prowess of a Soul Academy veteran.
O wretched god who shoved me into this mesugaki's body—just for today, grant me the right to farm in righteousness.
That said, I had no intention of stripping the place bare.
Even a father as hopelessly soft on Lucy as Benedict had his limits.
I'd take only the handful of items I truly needed. Granted, those items would be worth a small fortune—but Benedict was a man of boundless generosity. He'd be fine with it.
Probably.
Permission secured, I still couldn't head straight for the storehouse.
The keys didn't rest with Benedict but with the estate's head butler, so I had to find him first.
As I walked the corridor in search of him, I spotted a maid polishing the windows and decided to ask her instead.
'Excuse me.'
"Hey, you."
The maid froze solid the instant she heard my voice, then rotated her neck toward me with the grinding stiffness of a rusted robot.
What was with that expression? Like she'd just seen a monster.
Do you hate Lucy that much?
Granted. If I were in her shoes, I'd probably hate her too, an insufferable little brat.
Still, you're not supposed to show it on your face. The old Lucy would have seized on that slip in a heartbeat and bled her dry.
'The head butler...'
"Do you know where the head butler is?"
"Yes, my lady! He is supervising the cleaning of the first-floor lobby!"
'Got it. Thank you.'
"Hmph. Fine, then."
I still have no idea how this mesugaki translation works.
Where did the "thank you" go? It just flew right out the window.
Is expressing gratitude to a maid somehow forbidden by mesugaki law?
Lamenting inwardly, I made my way down to the first floor, where I found the head butler directing the cleaning crews in the lobby.
Unlike the maid, he showed me nothing but perfect courtesy, even laying eyes on me directly.
"What may I do for you, my lady?"
'The storehouse...'
"I want into the storehouse."
"My deepest apologies, my lady. That requires the Count's express permission."
'I got it.'
"Pathetic butler. Did you think I'd come throwing my weight around without permission?"
"My apologies. If the Count has granted it, then I was simply unaware."
Even with a girl who barely reached his waist picking a fight with him, the head butler's expression didn't waver by a single hair.
So this is... the dignity of an elder?
The head butler rattled off some instructions to a nearby maid, then led me toward the storehouse.
The Arln family storehouse was, as I'd predicted, impressively vast.
I knew it would be. Even in the game, looting a count-tier family's vault had always paid out handsomely.
Most of it seemed to be valuables with straightforward worth—gold, jewels, that sort of thing.
Expensive, no doubt. And utterly meaningless to me right now.
What good was a pile of money with no way to spend it?
Besides, I could have as much of that stuff as I wanted later.
What I needed now were things that could deliver immediate, practical results.
I spent a long while looking around, but picking out what I wanted from the endless rows of goods was no easy task.
In the game, a single glance told you exactly what an item was. With my own naked eyes, I couldn't identify anything at all.
This is why, ugh. I'll need to get some kind of appraisal skill down the line.
For now, I'll just ask the butler to find it for me.
'Head butler...'
"Pathetic butler. Where do you keep the elixirs?"
Elixirs.
The items that Soul Academy veterans hunted with fire in their eyes.
Their effect was simple.
Consume one—no prerequisites, no conditions—and a specific stat rose. Permanently.
To rapidly drag this pathetic mesugaki's physical stats out of the gutter, elixirs were an absolute necessity.
I'd run a rough experiment yesterday: in Lucy's current body, forget swinging a weapon—I couldn't even manage a jog outside.
What was the point of training with a body that was wheezing and ready to burst a lung after twenty seconds of sprinting? You need a body that can at least move like a normal human being before training means anything!
So hand over the elixirs. The elixirs. A count family's storehouse would have at least two or three tucked away.
"Why do you seek elixirs, my lady?"
Instead of answering, the head butler returned my demand with a question of his own. Why, you ask?
'For me...'
"I'm going to drink them. Why?"
"...My lady. An elixir would indeed make you stronger—but it exacts a price. The moment you drink one, your body will be wracked with the agony of being torn apart and remade. Do you understand what you're asking for?"
The agony of your body twisting apart? There was no such description in the game?
Ah, I see. Head butler, elixirs are precious beyond measure, so you're trying to scare me off, aren't you? Clever little gambit.
Sneaky. But did you really think that would work on me?
I'm a Soul Academy veteran! You think there's anything about this game I don't know?
'It's fine.'
"Pathetic butler. Just hand them over quietly."
"If that is your wish... then so be it."
The head butler hesitated a moment, then gave a slight nod and brought the elixirs to me.
"This one raises Strength. This one here raises Stamina."
Two elixirs of Stamina—the stat I needed most desperately. And on top of that, one elixir of Strength.
The moment I laid eyes on them, a sound dangerously close to a scream of joy escaped my lips.
I'd have counted myself lucky to find a single Stamina elixir—and here were two!
And the Strength elixir was exactly what I needed as well!
If you asked me to name the happiest moment of the three days since I'd become Lucy, I would answer, loud and proud: right now.
"Which of these will you be taking?"
'All of them.'
"All of them."
"I beg your pardon?"
'I'm taking all three.'
"Pathetic butler. Are your ears going deaf from old age? I said I'm taking all of them."
And the number is perfect, too!
In Soul Academy, you can only consume three elixirs per year.
And here was the head butler, presenting exactly three.
This is destiny handed down from the heavens themselves. Which means all three belong to me.
I felt no guilt whatsoever.
These are the very things keeping me alive—what guilt could I possibly feel?
Besides, as every possessor before me always said: you take everything you can get your hands on!