Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: The Man Walking on the Moon
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"You whistle whee~"
I strolled down the street, humming a tune and whistling away.
This robust, powerful energy filling every inch of my body—youth really is the best.
Ras Etgard, a fine young man of twenty-three in the flower of his youth.
The affluent and promising son of a fairly large merchant house.
And a regressor.
For some reason, I'd returned to that day when I'd faced my first massive betrayal on the brink of death.
So in this second life, there'd be no more naive, milk-scented rookie.
Just a man who'd rolled through all sorts of hellish pits and survived until the world itself ended.
What was I like back then, ten years ago, when that betrayal crushed me?
As I walked these familiar spring streets after so long, I slipped into a brief reminiscence.
A fresh-faced young man was dashing breathlessly through the spring streets.
His clothes were dressed to perfection, almost excessively so, his hair slicked back neatly with pomade.
The soft, boyish face paired with a beaming smile made for a pretty sight.
Girls strolling the city streets near Leone Academy during the height of the flower festival glanced at his outfit and face, their hearts fluttering.
Was he out enjoying the festival alone, by any chance?
The ones wandering solo blushed faintly at the sight of him, striking shy or playfully coy poses.
They swayed gently, not too obviously, or tucked their hair behind their ears for no reason.
If you're single, come talk to me. Let's go see the flowers together.
They were dancing a silent dance conveying that exact message.
But the young man's steps, still shedding the last traces of boyhood, were resolute, his eyes not wandering even slightly.
His gaze, darting around as if searching for someone, burned with fervor.
Like a man on a date, clearly broadcasting, I've got someone!
The girls sighed and shook their heads, passing him by.
"Rizli...!"
Spotting his target at last, the young man bounded forward like a black dog greeting its master.
Rizli, the woman whose name he'd called, tucked the small book she'd been reading into her handbag and turned to him.
Her golden hair shone brighter than the sun, her skin milky white, her eyes a deep sea blue, her lips rose-red, her features delicately perfect.
Her long, graceful limbs and slender figure were flawless from head to toe.
Dressed lightly for an outing, she was dazzlingly beautiful.
No one among the girls filling these streets could rival her beauty.
"Ras. You're a bit late."
Ras, the fresh-faced youth, grinned sheepishly and scratched the back of his head.
"Well, it's been ages since I last went flower-viewing. I got carried away dressing up and lost track of time... Sorry!"
Ras naturally took Rizli's bag and escorted her.
His eyes on the beautiful girl brimmed with admiration, joy, and affection.
Seeing him beam like a child, Rizli smiled lightly and started walking.
"You're showing off your effort a tad too much, but the sincerity's nice. You look good, Ras."
Onlookers watched the handsome couple enviously as they walked.
Rizli strode elegantly like a rose, poised and graceful, while Ras trailed after her, beside himself with delight.
As they walked, Ras suddenly went, Oh right! and fumbled in his pocket, stopping Rizli.
"What's this?"
Opening the small box revealed a gold bracelet elegantly studded with emeralds and rubies.
Green, red, and gold blended beautifully—subtle, not gaudy.
This pricey piece, crafted by a promising capital artisan, was all the rage among noble ladies of count families and above.
For Rizli, daughter of the Gracia Count Family—which bore a noble title but lacked funds—it was utterly unattainable.
Ras carefully clasped the bracelet on her wrist, worried it might hurt her pride, and spoke gently.
"You mentioned the bracelet the Valencia duke's daughter was wearing last time, right? I asked my father and got one."
"...Thank you so much... But I didn't exactly ask for a gift..."
She caressed the exquisite piece tenderly, her voice tinged with wistfulness as she expressed her gratitude.
"But I wanted to give it to you. The green, red, and gold... they go so well together, like a rose. Just like you, Rizli..."
His rehearsed line was clumsy but brimming with sincerity.
Rizli smiled faintly and planted a feather-light kiss on his cheek.
With a soft smack, Ras's face turned beet red.
"I'll wear it everywhere. Thank you, Ras. But next time, don't go to such lengths. Regardless of price, it must've been hard to get..."
"Heh heh! Not hard at all. Really! Shall we grab lunch first? I reserved a nice restaurant..."
Ras's innocent smile made him look truly happy.
The hardships of acquiring the bracelet had already vanished from his memory.
Tucked in my pocket was the box containing that bracelet, carefully buried in the recesses of my memory.
I'd gone through hell to get it.
Price aside, that artisan wouldn't even take commissions from non-nobles.
The Etgard Merchant Group was promising and reputable, but no nobles, so it took multiples of the money and time to commission and receive it.
I visited the capital in person multiple times to plead my case, paid extra...
Truth be told, just handing Rizli the money to buy it herself would've been easy, but that defeats the purpose of a gift.
It might've wounded the pride of a count's daughter with empty coffers, and more importantly, no surprise factor.
Half from love for my half-mad fiancée, half from placating her cold rages when I didn't anticipate her desires perfectly.
Rizli always hinted at what she wanted indirectly, and even oblivious me back then caught on.
At first, I was clueless about her personality—pure A for A, B for B—and upset her several times.
After bumping into her cold walls repeatedly, consulting friends on love advice endlessly, I finally got why she was mad.
Looking back, I was a total idiot.
Couldn't I have just played it smooth?
No.
The real idiocy was going so crazy over a pretty-faced girl whose insides were rotten to the core.
Rizli cheating on me, dragging my life to ruin?
I'm no prophet; no way to foresee it. That's not the issue.
I just should've been wiser, put myself first in thoughts and actions.
People who can't be honest about their desires and hint darkly are the scariest. Cut them off quick if one's around.
Words from my former master, the great archmage who owned my body and soul until recently.
Spot on, without a doubt.
Those who hint slyly at wants and lash out if unmet—scariest, hardest to deal with, regardless of gender.
Deep down, even the biggest fool victim senses it's wrong.
Yet clings due to attachment and fear of loss, failing sound judgment.
When Rizli showed her nasty aftermath subtly, I should've ended it.
Or at least not groveled pathetically to appease her.
Every little word and deed made me a fool in her eyes.
Fool, sucker, trembling at her every word, watching her mood pathetically.
How much did she mock me behind that elegant beauty?
Our engagement was Gracia Counts needing cash allying with Etgards craving nobility. And I was thrilled.
Forcing love into a creditor-debtor deal dirties the game.
"Why give the bracelet to you? Even if I were boiling stew, you wouldn't get a taste."
Chuckling, I sauntered even more leisurely.
Give the bracelet to someone else? Or sell to eager noble ladies?
Actually, since it has Rizli's initials engraved, best to melt it down.
Not important anyway.
Money overflowed for me back then.
Savoring my youthful body and matching casual attire, I gleefully self-assessed.
Ten years ago, I slathered on pomade and such like heading to a noble gala, dressed ridiculously sharp.
Innocent kid clueless to the world, thinking effort impresses girls. Amateur.
Ugh, so tacky.
Even dancing goofily to a beat draws flirty glances from fresh girls now.
With this handsome face and wealth, why act the fool?
I stepped lively, feeling like I walked on the moon.
"Ha-!"
"Oh my, look at him. So cute."
See? Freakish moves and sounds on the street? Handsome folks get a pass.
Do as you please. No second-guessing, like a wild wolf. That's your charm, Ras.
My old master, bad-boy coach extraordinaire, came to mind again.
Under her aggressive coaching, I went beyond bad boy to dog.
Of course, only I knew she was theory-only, died a virgin—but irrelevant.
This life, being consistently mildly bad boy seems good.
Last life, I swung wildly between sucker and dog...
"Ras...? What are you doing? And what's with the outfit..."
At the end of my dance was Rizli, just like ten years ago in my previous life.
But this life's her wasn't the haughty type flipping unreadable book pages.
She looked utterly baffled at her eccentric fiancé. Quite the sight.
And topping it off, my outfit?
Academy uniform, dug out from yesterday.
Nothing fresher for a student vibe than the uniform.
On April 7th, with cherry blossoms scattering, I greeted my past fiancée like this.
"Hey, Rizli?"
The spring breeze felt utterly refreshing.