Chapter 492: Pseudonyms
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 492: Pseudonyms
Muen opened his eyes.
His mental energy, which had gone without rest for several days, was fully replenished after a solid bout of sleep. He felt light, his body refreshed.
He glanced at the wall clock. Exactly twenty-four hours—not a minute off from his scheduled wake-up time.
Though he had fallen asleep a bit later than expected, his control over his body was now so formidable that he could wake up whenever he desired. He was no longer that playboy young master who needed a maid to wake him every morning.
"But perhaps it's better to pick up some of those things I threw away before?"
Muen rose and donned his black formal suit.
This custom-made suit was not only incredibly durable but also featured an auto-cleaning function. Even after the previous great battle, it remained spotless.
Standing before the mirror, Muen fastened each button of the suit with precision.
Then came the human skin mask.
Watching the handsome, dashing blond youth in the mirror transform into a gloomy middle-aged man with deep facial contours, Muen couldn't help but sigh.
This was one of his regrets.
But there was no helping it. "Muen Campbell" was currently in the Sidel Territory of the North, meeting with the Governor and the local lords. He was supposed to be "shining bright" in the upcoming disaster relief efforts, spreading the Campbell name to the very borders of the Empire.
Therefore, the one going to the appointment now could only be Mr. Bruce.
Muen didn't even use his usual cologne. After a simple grooming, he stepped out of the room.
"Hello, checking out."
"Good evening, sir."
The young girl at the front desk brightened visibly when she saw Muen.
"You seem to be in high spirits. Are you going on a date?"
"A date?"
Muen flicked his wrist, making his hat spin gracefully in the air a few times before it landed perfectly on his head.
"Something like that."
"You're so handsome, I'm sure the lady will love it," the girl complimented with a smile, clapping her hands.
"I certainly hope she does."
Muen sighed.
"I just hope I don't get stepped on too many times. Though, honestly, being stepped on once in a while isn't actually..."
"???"
*
"This should be the place."
Muen looked up at the street sign for Favran Street, confirming it was the agreed-upon location, and walked deeper into the district.
Night was falling.
In the Lower District, while the days were a whirlwind of activity, the streets were mostly deserted at night. Aside from the homeless and the drunks and gamblers haunting the taverns, ordinary people rarely wandered about.
Consequently, the street was devoid of bystanders. Only the occasional flicker of lamplight escaping from the windows of nearby residents hinted that this was still a bustling part of the city.
"Number thirteen... thirteen... here it is. Huh?"
Muen paused as he found the doorplate marked "13."
Beneath the doorplate stood a long bench.
In a corner where the lamplight couldn't reach, someone was already sitting there.
Their face was obscured by a black lace parasol that hid most of their figure. Muen’s gaze traveled downward, catching sight of a pair of long legs clad in black stockings, pressed neatly together as they extended from beneath a slim-fitting dress.
"Hmm? Celicia?"
Muen tilted his head and slowly crouched down, peering under the parasol.
Ink-black hair was swept back and tied into a cute bun. Her exquisite face looked as if it had been carved by a master artist, devoid of any flaw. Her features seemed ordinary at first glance, yet when combined, they possessed an indescribable harmony.
Following the line of her swan-like neck downward, one could see the perfectly shaped lethal assets hidden beneath her well-fitted dress.
Unsurprisingly, she was a very lovely young girl.
However, based on her appearance, she wasn't Celicia.
Did I get the wrong person?
The thought flashed through Muen's mind for a split second.
But he didn't rush to apologize for his rudeness. Driven by a certain intuition, his gaze drifted upward again, landing on that face which still held a hint of baby fat.
The face and features were entirely unfamiliar, but beneath those willow-leaf brows and thick, long lashes, Muen saw a pair of eyes as cold as the first snow of winter.
Those eyes were also staring back at him.
"So cute."
Muen let out a sigh of admiration. Before his brain could even process a full train of thought, he had already reached out and gently pinched the girl's cheek.
As if to confirm the texture, he gave it a few experimental tugs.
Immediately, the cold gaze shifted into a dangerous expression, as if she were looking at a piece of human trash.
"Ha, it really is you, Celicia... Wait, don't get mad! I just wanted to check if this face was real. I definitely wasn't trying to harass you!"
"Choose. Front or back?"
"Eh? What front, what back? I—Oof!"
Muen slowly sank to his knees. Like a boiled shrimp, he clutched his stomach and curled up.
Yet, he still managed to give a strained thumbs-up, wheezing out a compliment:
"A... perfect knee strike. Celicia, your moves have gotten even sharper."
Celicia, who had already stood up, tucked a few stray hairs behind her ear and said coldly:
"Judging by how your body instinctively tried to defend but was then forcibly suppressed by your own will, and your state after being hit... you're not bad yourself. At least in terms of taking a beating."
"Th-thank you for the compliment."
"I wasn't complimenting you."
"I'll take it as one anyway."
"..."
Celicia let out an exasperated sigh.
"You're late."
"Late? No way, I'm thirty minutes early. You just got here too—"
Muen, about to protest, met Celicia's increasingly icy gaze.
"My apologies. I am late."
Muen lowered his head instantly.
Celicia gave a slight nod and sat back down.
Muen, whose stomach didn't actually hurt that much, rubbed his belly and sat down beside her.
There was only about a fist's width of space between their shoulders. Celicia glanced at the gap but said nothing.
"How long have you been here?"
"Just arrived."
"Oh... 'just arrived,' I see."
Muen nodded, drawing out the words with a playful lilt. He asked again, "And this face?"
"Can't you tell? It's a mask, just like yours."
"As I thought. Mm-hmm, a mask. I get it. But it really is cute."
Muen marveled.
"The style is completely different from your usual self, but..."
"Do you prefer this face?" Celicia asked, raising an eyebrow.
"...No, how could that be? How could there be a face in this world more beautiful than your true self?"
Muen immediately straightened his expression.
"Believe me, Your Highness, you are the most beautiful woman in the world."
"Liar."
"If I'm lying, may my most respected teacher never be able to eat a strawberry-flavored lollipop again."
Muen thumped his chest, swearing a solemn oath.
Celicia glanced at him, her expression unreadable as to whether she was satisfied with the answer.
Muen wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, relieved, and quickly changed the subject.
"Speaking of which, I didn't expect you to know how to use disguises as well."
"If even the son of a Duke, who is supposed to be serving at his post, has to hide his identity, how could I, a Princess under house arrest, wander the streets openly?"
"True. So, have you thought of a name for yourself?"
Muen asked.
"This is important. Otherwise, it's easy to slip up."
"A pseudonym? I do need one. Let me think..."
Celicia rested her chin on her hand, pondering for a moment.
"Lisa? Mary? Martha? Hmm... how about Martha, Mr. Bruce?"
"Please, spare me." Muen's cheek twitched.
"Hmm?"
Celicia looked at him in confusion.
"Is there something wrong with that name?"
Her gaze sharpened.
"Is it another woman you used to mess around with?"
"No, wait, why would you even think that? Did I really mess around with that many women?"
"..."
"Fine, I was a piece of work in the past, but I've turned over a new leaf. Now, I'm a devoted, one-woman man."
"Devoted?"
"Sin... sincere. Sincere."
Muen coughed a few times. To steer the conversation away, he quickly adapted a story template from this world to explain the unfortunate connection between those two names.
"I see. Mother and son... that would be quite disgusting."
Celicia thought for a moment. "Then just call me Thea."
"Thea?"
Muen's eyes lit up, and he leaned in with interest.
"Good name. Is that your childhood name or a nickname or something?"
The two were suddenly very close.
Close enough to feel each other's breath.
The moon had risen at some point, playfully casting its light upon their shoulders.
Though the faces reflected in each other's eyes were strangers, the faint emotions flickering deep within their gazes were intimately familiar.
Perhaps the sudden proximity had worked; Muen saw something warm flowing beneath that icy exterior.
"Is it, or isn't it? Ah, so Celicia has such a cute little nick—"
Whatever was flowing instantly froze over.
"Sorry."
Muen immediately lowered his head in submission.
"I got too cocky."
"...For now," Celicia said suddenly.
"Wh-what?"
Celicia turned her head away.
"I said, you can call me that for now."
"Oh."
Muen blinked and adjusted his hat, trying to catch Celicia's expression.
Was she being tsundere? Was this a tsundere moment?
Tsunderes are the best.
Unfortunately, Celicia didn't give him a chance to confirm. She stood up from the bench.
"Let's go."
The black parasol spun gently as the girl walked gracefully toward the end of the street.
Muen caught up, walking side-by-side with her.
"Where to? A restaurant?"
"You didn't actually think I risked Wei'er getting her head chopped off just to accompany you on a stroll, did you?"
"I suppose that's unlikely... Wait, Wei'er? Did I just hear a tragic tale of a black-hearted boss exploiting a helpless little secretary?"
"Do you think I'm being too harsh? Do you pity her?"
"...No, I think you should double down. Honestly, I've been annoyed with Wei'er for a long time. That damn BL-lover has ruined so many of my good opportunities."
"Heh."
"..."
They chatted as they walked, gradually passing through the deserted streets, moving past the shop signs and the wind chimes swaying gently in the breeze.