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Chapter 22
“I knew it!”
Of course they were even worse than me. This side was no pushover either.
“Everyone goes through a stormy, tumultuous phase at least once, right?”
“Well…”
He seemed to agree with the statement. Grandfather groaned and made a low sound.
Seizing the moment, I smoothed down my messy hair with a careless hand and tried to convince him.
“And thanks to the help we got, you didn’t get hurt. You even gave me cake.”
I left out the fact that he’d been glaring a lot, and just gave an awkward chuckle.
Then Grandfather suddenly grew very serious and muttered to himself.
“My grandson also… hm, no. He’s hopeless.”
“Grandson?”
Grandfather let out a deep sigh.
“There is one. One pathetic kid.”
“Oh.”
Looks like he’s hit puberty a little, too. Seeing that sour expression, it’s obvious he must have some trouble.
“Everyone has at least one secret they can’t tell,” I thought.
I decided not to pry; if he didn’t want to talk, fine.
After a while of being unusually reserved, Grandfather unexpectedly began.
“My grandson’s personality is terrible, but his looks are not so bad.”
“…?”
I cocked my head, listening.
It felt like giving up one thing and gaining another.
“He’s smart, and he’s good at cleaning up the betrayers—no, I meant exterminating cockroaches. A little crazy, but considerate, in his own way.”
Excuse me. Something terrifying just passed by in the middle there!
“You just said ‘cleaning up betrayers’—”
“Hm? No, I said cockroach extermination.”
I have no idea how betrayers turned into cockroaches, but Grandfather brazenly insisted.
‘Could it be…’ I thought.
Maybe Grandfather used to be someone important in the underworld? It wouldn’t surprise me.
‘It seems possible.’
With that strength, he’d fit right into Proud.
“Grandfather.”
“Yes?”
“I’m not asking with any ulterior motive or anything.” I cleared my throat carefully and asked, “Where do you live?”
“…Me?”
Grandfather sounded a bit flustered.
I nodded.
“I was wondering if you lived nearby.”
For an ordinary person, getting into Proud isn’t easy. Our household is part of Proud’s inner depths — Angelo. It must have been a long way to come here. So he either lived nearby or lived inside Proud. Either one.
Grandfather hesitated for a long time, then mumbled reluctantly, “I live near here.”
“Hmm.”
“Why do you have that face?”
Because you’re too bad at lying, I thought. But I’m a child advanced in mental acuity. I can let an adult white lie slide.
For now, since he promised not to harm me, I decided to trust him until the contract fell through.
“No, never mind. By the way, are you doing okay living here?”
It had already been almost a week since he moved in. I was finally starting to feel like a person, but the one actually looking after the house’s cleanliness was Grandfather… so if anything was inconvenient, I was more than willing to help.
“It’s fine. I’ve lived in much worse while camping.”
“Ah.”
The word “camping” slipped out, and I picked up on it little by little.
‘Camping — mercenary? Or a guild member?’
While I mulled over the possibilities, Grandfather rose from the couch opposite.
“All right, then, let’s eat quickly. You’ve been out and about lately; you should fill your stomach!”
“Yes!”
Grandfather thought I had some small odd job — sewing or crafting, something like that. There are lots of people doing that kind of work in Proud, easy lies to tell.
I smoothed my skirt and followed him into the kitchen.
After dinner.
“Phew.”
Wistenz finished the last of the dishes neatly and left the kitchen quietly.
He hung a cute pink apron on the chair, then headed to the room Amelia had assigned him.
‘She should be sleeping by now.’
Lately he’d been out and about a lot. The boy who used to beg for bedtime stories now fell asleep quickly once the moon rose.
It was good that he slept soundly, but… I felt a little lonely. Wistenz closed the door and let out a hollow laugh.
‘When did I start feeling like this?’
He’d begun to enjoy human conversation. It made him feel, absurdly, like a real person.
He laughed self-deprecatingly as he sat down on the bed.
‘This is funny no matter how you look at it.’
He’d rarely felt life so interesting. With his grandson being so pleasant to talk to and behaving like an ordinary person, the illusion that everything traumatic had been erased crept over him. The sensation wasn’t bad, so even after making that ridiculous contract, Wistenz stayed here.
He could have wiped out those mixed-breeds in a single day if he wanted, but he couldn’t bring himself to.
‘Good thing he ate well earlier.’
It was hard to get meat here in Angelo. When a cart with meat came in, bandits would steal the lot. The reason he’d managed to get enough meat was…
‘I should hunt it myself next time.’
A lion had passed by the nearby hill, and he’d taken it down — so they had plenty for days.
‘It’s small enough as it is.’
He didn’t want it to shrink any further. A child should grow up warm and full. He felt proud seeing the boy eat so well.
But the thing bothering him now wasn’t Amelia.
“….”
At that moment, Wistenz pulled out the kitchen knife he’d brought earlier.
Thwack!
The knife flew and stuck squarely into the corner of the window frame.
“Eek!”
A figure who had been hiding jumped back in fright; leaves still clung to his hair. The middle-aged man, Dion, panted and wiped tears from his eyes.
“It’s me, it’s me! Dion! Your loyal aide and lifelong friend!”
Light brown hair, greenish eyes.
Dion, out of breath, bowed his head.
Wistenz raised an eyebrow and, glancing toward the upstairs room where Amelia was, said flatly, “Quiet.”
The knife that had been lodged in the wall was suddenly in front of Dion’s face.
“If you wake the child, you’re dead.”
