Chapter 179. Not Bad, Is It?
After shifting responsibility onto Senior Mycelln, I spent a leisurely afternoon.
“That’s how the world is.”
There’s nothing complicated about it.
Demian wants adventure? Then give him what he wants.
At first glance, agreeing to Demian’s demand might look like a highly risky choice.
If Brando realized Demian was missing, the family would respond on the family level, and once that response began, things would never end simply.
But what if we didn’t comply with Demian’s demand?
“That would be annoying in its own way, too.”
Still, there was one thing we had to consider here.
In the former case—meaning if Demian joined—the risk was significant, but the probability of it actually happening wasn’t one hundred percent.
To put it bluntly, if we slipped out late at night and came back early, how would they even know?
And the latter?
“In that case, the risk would trigger with a one hundred percent probability.”
An uncertain spearhead that may or may not pierce you, versus a dagger that will pierce you no matter what. There was a clear answer as to which one to choose.
Of course… normally you’d choose the safer option of being stabbed by the dagger rather than being skewered by the spear, but that was only in normal times.
Besides, if someone else is the one who’ll be skewered by the spear, why hesitate?
“Mm. No reason. None at all.”
Don’t call me cold.
That’s how the world works.
Strictly speaking, this is Senior Mycelln’s matter, so isn’t it only right that he bears responsibility?
Anyway, after passing that leisurely afternoon, around the time I was waiting for dinner, Senior Mycelln came to see me.
“I’ll come in.”
From Senior Mycelln’s resolute expression, I could tell he’d finished making his decision.
But that decision… wasn’t without something strange about it.
“Brando’s Young Lord.”
“Yes.”
“I will gladly kidnap him.”
“…?”
What is he talking about?
I went blank for a moment and tried to sort out my thoughts.
“Kidnap Demian?”
“…Why?”
“Wasn’t that what you meant?”
“…”
“…”
An awkward silence flowed between us.
I was the one to break it first.
“Should we sit and talk first? Sit over there…”
“Understood.”
I waited until Senior Mycelln settled in, then recalled what he’d said and asked again.
“Why are you kidnapping Demian?”
“Wasn’t that what you meant? It sounded like you wanted me to quietly kidnap him and keep him locked up until the matter is finished.”
“…”
I felt like I’d been struck in the back of the head by Senior Mycelln’s answer.
“That kind of method… exists?”
“…Wasn’t that what you meant?”
“Not bad, is it?”
It was an extremely tempting method.
No—was it only tempting?
Senior Mycelln’s viewpoint gave me a sort of inspiration. Is this why people say experience matters?
“Right. Why didn’t I think of that?”
If I analyzed the cause, it was because I’d carelessly been thinking of Demian within the frame of “friend.”
Yes. Putting him to sleep until it’s over, or locking him up somewhere, could have been one way.
And was that all?
We could simply go and come back quietly, without Demian noticing anything. Of course, that would hurt Demian’s feelings quite a bit, but isn’t there a saying like this?
“Forgiveness is easier than permission.”
Meaning, if you’re going to do something, rather than asking for permission, you just do it first and get forgiven afterward.
Around then, I heard Senior Mycelln’s voice.
“Then what was your original idea…?”
“I was thinking of taking Demian along.”
“The Young Lord…?”
“Yes. He said he wants adventure, didn’t he? Then we should let him.”
At my answer, Senior Mycelln knit his brow.
“Wouldn’t that be dangerous?”
“It’s his choice, though.”
“The Young Lord is still young. No matter how much it’s his choice, he’s far too young to take somewhere when we don’t even know what dangers might be there.”
“…”
“…What is it?”
Was my stare too blatant?
Senior Mycelln asked, looking puzzled.
“You’re asking why?”
It’s an obvious thing to say, but it sounded not obvious, so.
By that logic, I’m young, too.
Even though I’m a vagrant from the Black and White Zone and don’t know my exact age, the age on the papers I submitted when I entered the academy was fourteen.
To Shine, was it twenty-three? Anyway, I raised it and told him I was three years older than him. And to Fixer, the chief at Hamelin Great Forest Base Camp No. 1, I bluffed that I was two years older.
But even so, it’s an undeniable fact that I’m young.
“Then why… me?”
Faces of everyone I’d met so far swept past like a panorama.
Henji, whom I entrusted with a thesis… well, set that aside. Even if things had become dangerously tangled with Kalahen and the Infinite Chain, Henji wouldn’t have known that.
And in a way, my young age would have been a plus to Henji.
“If anything happens, it’s easy to quietly take care of me.”
Then what about the Headmaster who sent me to the Hamelin Great Forest?
At the time, I thought this.
Right, he’s from the era of the old war, so maybe age doesn’t matter that much.
Back then, as long as you could grip a spear or sword, you went to the battlefield, and if you could use magic, they drafted you whether you were a child or an adult.
An era where ability mattered more than age.
But.
Hearing Senior Mycelln now, it didn’t seem that way. Clearly, he too should be from the era of the old war…
“Demian is young?”
“Senior, how old do you think I am?”
“Now then, how old were you? Twenty? Twenty-one?”
“…?”
“Ah, older than that? I’m sorry. For people like you, looking young isn’t exactly something you’d want to hear.”
“…?”
“Haha. To be honest, at first I thought you were about the same age as the Young Lord. But after speaking with you, I quickly noticed that wasn’t the case.”
What did that mean?
I stared at him with questions for a long moment, and Senior Mycelln tilted his head.
“Weren’t you a reagent user?”
“…A reagent?”
“You know… the various doping agents mages like to use. I heard one of the side effects is that it suppresses physical growth.”
“What?”
“Is that not it? Hm. Well, the world has changed, so maybe there’s no need for that anymore. I’m sorry. In the old days, that kind of thing happened often. It was an era when people weren’t people, but numbers. A regular soldier was 1, a mage was 10, a spiritist was 15, a knight was 8. It was a time when people would do anything to raise their numbers.”
A story from the era of the old war.
Ah. Hearing it, something came to mind.
“He said doping agents.”
To boost momentary cognitive ability, develop one’s core, or increase explosive power of mana, all sorts of drugs were used.
Of course, the side effects were severe, but back then it wasn’t a situation where you could afford to weigh this and that.
If you might die tomorrow, why would the side effects a week later, ten days later, or even one or two years later matter?
“But how old are you, then?”
“Fourteen.”
“That… can’t be…”
His eyes wavered as if deeply shocked.
It’s almost hurtful.
Of course, I didn’t act like a fourteen-year-old.
But still… no matter what…
Senior Mycelln opened his mouth not long after.
“If you can take care of yourself, you’re an adult. In that sense, you are already a fine adult.”
“…”
Sure. Fine. Let’s say that.
Anyway, enough of that.
I turned the topic back to the main point.
“Why do you think it has to be dangerous?”
“Wouldn’t it be dangerous…? Ancient ruins contain all manner of strange phenomena that can’t be explained by modern magic. The most representative example would start with Destrow…”
Ah. You know Destrow, too.
Me? Yeah? I even brawled with him, yeah? I did it all.
Have you heard of it? The Spicy Fist of the Hamelin Great Forest.
Anyway, according to Senior Mycelln, in ancient ruins you can meet all sorts of existences—starting with doppelgangers, monsters shaped like humans that you can’t even find in the Demon Realm, all the way to beings passed down only in myths and legends.
“But isn’t a doppelganger just a legend?”
As I felt puzzled—
Senior Mycelln trailed off as if realizing, ah, he’d slipped.
“I misspoke. Forget what I just said. Of course, it’s not something you’d go around telling people anyway, but it’s the kind of thing people keep quiet about…”
“Yes, well.”
I answered as such, since it wasn’t a particular interest of mine.
Anyway, no matter what danger ancient ruins might hold, I didn’t feel much about it.
To obtain high-quality slaves… no, good friends, you need to pay that kind of price.
There was no way back now.
But in Demian’s case, it was a bit different.
“Then how about this?”
“How?”
“Let’s ask him directly.”
“As I said, the Young Lord is…”
“He’s not young.”
“…?”
Maybe because I cut in so bluntly, Senior Mycelln tilted his head, puzzled.
At that look, I shrugged and added,
“Let’s just ask him once. What we do after that is something we can decide then, isn’t it?”
“That’s true, but…”
Looking at Senior Mycelln trailing off, I could be sure that in the end he would follow my suggestion.
Good. Then we’ll do that.
“First, shall we go eat?”
“Mm. Let’s.”
“Even a ghost that dies after eating has better color, so eat a lot. If you’re going to be chased by Brando, you’ll need to keep yourself well-fed.”
“….”
Is it not funny?
It’s fine.
Words like that are meaningful simply in being said. Whether the listener laughs or not is only secondary.
Because I was a man who valued the process over the result.
In the end, Demian agreed instantly.
“Every adventure comes with danger!”
“Ah. Is that so.”
“Ancient ruins. My blood is boiling. This must be the call of fate, right? A hero can never remain quiet.”
Demian suddenly recited his lines in a theatrical tone.
He wasn’t faking—he genuinely looked excited, yet Senior Mycelln still didn’t seem reassured and his complexion darkened.
“Young Lord, this is not such a simple matter. You may not understand because you’re still young…”
“Teacher, I’m not young.”
“At twelve, you’re still…”
“A person’s age is nothing but a number, and an ‘adult’ means one who takes responsibility for themselves. And I am at an age where I can take responsibility for the choice I make.”
What was this? His eyes suddenly sharpened, and his pronunciation became clear.
Was the new prototype Demian truly real?
But Senior Mycelln still couldn’t put his mind at ease, and continued with a stiff face.
“Young Lord, this could put your life in danger. You may not understand, but…”
Senior Mycelln launched into a long speech about the dangers of this matter.
It seemed he intended to persuade Demian somehow and leave him behind, and I listened silently to it all.
Because, to be fair, he wasn’t wrong.
Honestly, it would be easier for me if Demian didn’t join.
So, in my heart I found myself cheering for Senior Mycelln—
“Hm.”
A low hum.
“…?”
At the strange vibe, I turned my gaze to Demian.
Demian had leaned back against the chair, resting his chin on his hand. But why? His eyes looked distinctly irritated.
“…And so, in ancient ruins…”
“Teacher.”
Demian’s voice sounded sharp… no, it wasn’t sharp.
It was utterly flat. It was just so dry that it only sounded sharp at first glance.
At that odd feeling, Senior Mycelln stopped speaking, and even I looked at Demian with unfamiliar eyes.
“I clearly said I understand everything… so why do you keep repeating what you already said? Are you afraid of the responsibility you’ll have to take on because of me?”
That look in his eyes wasn’t the Demian I’d known until now.
“…Dark Demian?”
Demian… got pissed off?
