Chapter 154
Chapter 154
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 154
Chapter Title: Father and Son (2)
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Lennon was terrified by his father's drastically changed expression. He never imagined his father would make such a face.
He shouldn't have said anything after all. There was no way his prideful father would allow it.
He needed to bow his head and apologize right away. He had to soothe his father's mood before it was too late.
"S-Sorry……."
"Did you ask that child first for instruction?"
But the words from the Simon Count's mouth were far from what Lennon had expected.
"Pardon?"
"Did you bow your head to him first?"
"……Yes. I asked him first to teach me."
"You bent your pride, then?"
The count wore an intrigued expression.
He rubbed his short goatee beard and let a faint smile play on his lips. Lennon had strong pride. He had confirmed it with his own eyes while teaching him directly over the past few months.
Yet he had bowed his head to someone first. And that someone was Jamie Welton, the very person who had humiliated him greatly before.
The old Lennon couldn't have even imagined it.
'He's not angry?'
Lennon, unaware of his father's thoughts, was still peeking at him nervously with a worried face.
Because the count's face remained stiff.
It looked like he was angry to anyone watching.
Lennon spoke in a cautious tone.
"……If it's uncomfortable for you, I won't do it."
"Uncomfortable?"
The count tilted his head at his son's out-of-left-field remark.
"I thought you were angry that I went to Jamie Welton for instruction instead of you, Father."
"Angry? Me?"
Lennon nodded.
The Simon Count couldn't understand. What about him looked angry…….
Then he suddenly recalled what Mion had said.
-Your face looks really scary when you're even slightly surprised, my lord. Please soften it, I beg you.
He had been slightly surprised once when he discovered a new variation of a spell.
Mion had called his expression frightening then.
He summoned a mirror in midair.
Lennon flinched at the count's sudden action, but the count ignored it and examined his own face before chuckling.
'I do look scary.'
No one had ever pointed it out before, so he'd lived unaware.
The Simon Count dismissed the mirror and spoke to his son.
"There's no discomfort. I was just a bit surprised by your actions, so don't worry."
"……Pardon?"
"I'm simply not used to showing emotions in front of others. So I'm not angry."
Lennon was quite shocked. He hadn't expected the Simon Count to correct his misunderstanding.
He had always been self-centered, leaving others' misconceptions uncorrected. It stemmed from his confidence—or arrogance—that they couldn't harm him anyway.
Yet here he was, showing consideration.
To him, his own son. Lennon had never experienced this in his life. Having grown up seeing only a cold, ruthless father, he was deeply shaken.
While he was lost in thought, the Simon Count spoke.
"I permit it. Learn much from Jamie Welton."
His wandering mind snapped back.
"R-Really?"
"Yes. But make sure you don't tarnish the Simon family name. Understood?"
"Yes!"
Lennon answered with a rare, beaming smile.
Growing up in a cold, strict family had made him unlike his peers, but he occasionally showed his childlike side.
Just like now.
'Our relations with the Welton family were already a bit strained, but this should smooth things over somewhat.'
Of course, for the sociopathic Simon Count, the family's standing mattered more than his son.
But he was perceptive enough not to show it in front of his delighted son.
"Go on now. I have much to do."
"Yes, yes! Thank you again! I'll study hard. I won't disgrace the family."
"Do your best."
At those words, Lennon's lips bloomed into a full smile.
He replied in a vigorous voice.
"Yes!!"
For some reason, it felt like the distance between him and his father had closed.
Late that evening, Lennon visited the dormitory.
His flushed face made it obvious why he'd come without asking.
"The count surprisingly permitted it."
"Yes. Please accept me as your disciple now."
Lennon bowed his head.
It wasn't easy for such a prideful boy to do so willingly.
Jamie could feel how much the boy had changed since last year.
"No long speeches. Come to my dorm with Ann after classes tomorrow."
"Yes!"
Lennon replied energetically.
It felt quite unfamiliar seeing the usually gloomy boy so bright, but Jamie believed that was how a child should be.
High noble children, even if not yet mature, rarely showed childlike traits.
They received rigorous etiquette and moral training from a young age. Some were precocious, but that was the parents' fault.
In any case, Lennon was still a child despite his facade.
And Jamie, having such thoughts, was a year younger than Lennon—a mere kid himself.
"My lessons will be very tough. Do you understand?"
"To become a son my father won't be ashamed of, I need to become much stronger than I am now. So I'll do anything."
"Confidence is good. But if you can't keep up, you're out. Ann Mayer is no exception. You'll have to satisfy me somehow."
"I will."
"Alright. Go now. I have things to do."
As Jamie waved him off and turned, Lennon called out.
"Jamie Welton."
"This brat, calling his teacher by name……."
Jamie trailed off.
Lennon wore an unusually serious face. His slightly clenched fist trembled with tension.
"I'm bowing now, but someday I'll catch up to you. So enjoy this moment while it lasts! Farewell!"
Lennon said that and fled the dorm like he was escaping.
Jamie stared blankly at the closed door before chuckling.
"Serving a peer as a master seems like pretty good motivation. Right?"
Kreek!
Black popped out from the shadows to answer.
"……Still, for calling his teacher by name, I'll make him taste hellish training tomorrow."
Jamie was the type to hold grudges.
He vowed to drill him mercilessly.
"A bit more…… give me a bit more."
A man slumped in a dark alley, desperately reaching out toward someone.
His bloodshot eyes, pale skin, and sunken cheeks didn't look normal at all.
"Give me…… give me the drug, more drug."
"The side effects are quite severe."
A figure in a large robe stood before the man.
The robed figure looked indifferently at the man crawling toward him. A drug addict turned wreck. He resembled a broken zombie.
"His meridians are nearly ruptured all over, and his heart is practically unusable."
"Drug…… please, the drug……."
The man grabbed the robed figure's ankle.
The intermittent tremors from his fingertips revealed his condition starkly.
The robed figure shook him off to the side.
"Keurk."
The man didn't even have the strength to scream.
The robed figure gazed at the small vial in his hand. An experimental drug without even a label yet.
And the man before him had taken it without fail every day for a fortnight.
"The first week had satisfying results. Tsk."
In the first week of taking it, the man's mana capacity increased 1.5 times, his muscle mass grew, and even his intelligence showed noticeable improvement.
But from the second week onward, his condition deteriorated rapidly.
The mana core in his heart shrank, his meridians became a mess. His muscles deflated like punctured balloons.
His intelligence dropped too, needing explanations two or three times.
The drug restored him somewhat when taken, but the effect lasted less than two hours.
"The doctor will be very disappointed. He had high hopes for EX."
The robed figure gave a wry smile as he looked at the man.
Crawling back, repeating his plea like a parrot.
He squatted and shook the vial in front of him.
"Want to drink this?"
"Please, please give it to me."
The man rubbed his hands together, begging. No pride left. Without it, he'd die—no room for pride, nor the leisure to think of it.
The robed figure giggled and shook his head.
"But I can't. You're trash."
"Aaah…… please. I'll do anything you ask……."
"What would I have trash do? Still, you were somewhat useful. Distributing X to the students directly and all. Truly a trash of a man."
Saying that, the robed figure mocked him and stood.
The man stretched out desperately.
The robed figure raised his foot toward him.
"Prepare to hear your disciples' grudges from the afterlife, teacher."
"Ah……."
Thud-
His head burst open.
The robed figure laughed maniacally at the blood splattering everywhere. Killing still thrilled him. Especially crushing a head like tofu—the pleasure multiplied.
"Haa. This is why I live."
He pocketed the vial inside his robe and shook off the flesh and blood from his shoe.
The cleanup crew would handle the body.
The robed figure leaned against the wall, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it with a match since he didn't know magic.
"This city is a real mess, huh."
Hard to believe it was one of the world's top magic cities.
'Maybe that's why the darkness seeps in even deeper.'
The robed figure liked the magic world.
On the surface, bright with pure passion of mages, but underneath, villains like him swarmed.
Even better, there were backers to cover their misdeeds.
"Life's fun these days."
A massive incident would soon erupt in the magic world.
Just imagining the coming day made a certain part of him tense up.
The world was most beautiful in despair. He craved a chaos of screams, tears, and pain.
"Don't you think so?"
The robed figure asked, cigarette in mouth, toward the figure at the alley entrance.
Another robed figure hiding his identity.
He walked silently to the corpse, then looked at the first robed figure—or seemed to, face hidden.
"Something to say?"
"You could've killed him cleanly."
"That doesn't suit my taste. Or maybe for a colleague……."
"Enough. Stop there."
The robed figure sensed killing intent in his words.
It excited him more, but he held back. He'd have a deathmatch with this one later.
'Not the time yet.'
A red glow flickered inside his robe.
The robed figure tossed his cigarette to the ground and cackled.
"Then I'll be off~"
With that, he shot into the air.
The other robed figure clicked his tongue watching him vanish, then stared at the headless corpse and muttered.
"Bastard with no aesthetics."
It was a dry voice.