Chapter 112
For a moment, I held the will and thought. Should I show this to him? But the kid was already excited, as if this whole situation were some kind of “treasure hunt.”
—
[Children are simple by nature.]
[Because they’re simple, they recover quickly… and because they’re simple, they also break down easily.]
—
The kid bounced up and down below me as he spoke.
“Oh, oh! Next–next, uh… the study! If we go to the study, there’s a place where Father often works!”
Leaving the excited kid behind, I looked over at Lee Hoin, who was rummaging through the room.
“Hey, should we count stuff like this as items too?”
He was staring seriously at something like a candlestick, as if genuinely contemplating it.
‘If this were an armory or a vault, that’d be one thing…’
But since this was a living space, the problem was that even ordinary furniture couldn’t be ruled out as items.
“Focus on things we can actually carry. Pendants or stuff like that. Where’s the study? Is it far?”
I answered both of them evenly.
The big one nodded and quietly turned to rummage through a drawer, while the small one kept bouncing and said:
“Uh, it’s near Gallery No. 25!”
Where the hell is Gallery 25?
The most annoying thing about this massive mansion was that there were dozens of rooms with identical functions. I let out a short breath.
“Right. So how long does it take to get to Gallery 25 from here?”
The kid looked up at me with bright eyes, clearly saying, ‘How would I know that?’
Well… fair enough. At least he knows the way. That’s all that matters. In the end, we started moving.
***
While walking, the kid suddenly asked:
“Do adults cry too?”
That was a hard question to answer. I blinked quietly for a moment. Instead of me, Lee Hoin spoke calmly.
“They do.”
“Why? Why do adults cry?”
“Because even after you grow up, sad things still happen.”
That was a more mature answer than I expected.
“Then do you cry too, mister?”
At the word ‘mister’, Lee Hoin froze for a moment. I had already been called an adult, so being called “mister” was inevitable for me… but for a twenty-year-old, it was a bit much. Maybe it’s because he’s tall.
“……Mi–”
Startled, he looked at the kid, then nodded.
“…Yeah.”
“Why do you cry, mister?”
The kid pulled the cloth over himself a bit more and said:
“Ernst is weird. At the end, he was definitely smiling and saying everything was okay, but now he just goes around crying. It’s weird.”
It seems the last image this kid has of “Ernst” is a smiling face. And now that he’s suddenly wandering around crying, it’s confusing to him.
At least, it seems like Ernst’s last moments were with the kid. But I don’t know why he’s still wandering around here.
‘And this kid too.’
I don’t know whether to consider him an agent or something else. He probably is an agent, but… there’s something slightly different about him.
“At first, I thought it was because of the bandits. They were tearing through our house trying to take things. Ernst beat them up and everything. So I thought that was why. But it’s not.”
My eyebrow twitched slightly.
“He cries even when there are no bandits. Even when they’re not in front of him, he keeps sobbing. I don’t know why. And…”
The kid, who was about to say more, suddenly shut his mouth. It wasn’t the right moment to press him, so we kept walking.
“Have you seen Ernst?”
“Not properly.”
“Ernst isn’t originally like that.”
The kid defended him quietly.
“He’s cool, and he’s a good person. He’s really big, really strong, and really, really a good person.”
He pulled the cloth over his head and mumbled:
“So if Ernst hates you guys, then it means there’s something wrong with you guys…”
An absolute hero. To this child, Ernst clearly seemed to be that kind of person.
Whether it’s a reputation or reality, in that small head of his, Ernst is absolute good… justice itself.
So if someone like that is hostile, then of course he’d think we’re the bad ones.
“…Are you really here to steal from this place, mister?”
At that, I hesitated for a moment. What’s the right answer?
“…It’s not that we came to steal… we were invited.”
“Invited…?”
“Yeah. Someone outside invited us.”
The face hidden under the cloth slowly lifted.
“Then why did you come in…? This is someone else’s house.”
Like I’ve said multiple times, this kid has a knack for making very reasonable points.
—
[Except for the fact that he can’t point out his own behavior.]
[But that’s just how children are, isn’t it?]
[They make surprisingly sharp observations, yet don’t understand what’s wrong with their own actions. That’s why adults and systems are necessary.]
[An immature being…. that’s what they are!]
—
After thinking for a moment, I said:
“Because this mansion is threatening our world.”
Lee Hoin was scanning the surroundings, listening carefully, while I simply gave that answer. The kid didn’t seem to understand and kept asking again and again, but there wasn’t much more I could say.
Eventually, his curiosity shifted elsewhere.
“What’s the place where you live like?”
“It’s just… a place where people live. All the same.”
“What’s it like? I’m asking what it’s like!”
“I told you not to shout. Where did you learn manners like that?”
At my words, the kid hid again. Watching him, I let out a breath.
“Hiding won’t solve anything. You just say ‘I’m sorry.’ Now look at the path. Is it that way?”
The kid peeked out again from the cloth and nodded.
‘Do we just need to take him to Ernst?’
That part was strange. It’s not like he doesn’t know the layout of this mansion, and it doesn’t seem impossible for him to find Ernst himself… so why does he want us to take him? I don’t understand the intention.
—
[Everyone has secrets they can’t tell!]
[Even immature beings have secrets!]
—
A secret, huh. Going by what the kid said and the will, this kid is likely the one Ernst was trying to protect… and Bernhardt’s “child.”
He said he couldn’t walk for long, but he didn’t look sickly. And he seemed to have a rough idea of where Ernst was.
I glanced down at the child.
—
[What could he be plotting?]
[Or rather, does he even have a “plot”?]
—
That’s not the problem. ‘Ernst’ himself is the problem. Can Ernst distinguish friend from foe? I don’t even know if he can.
‘We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t just classify us as enemies.’
If he recognizes this kid, then to anyone watching, we’d look like kidnappers.
To begin with, Ernst doesn’t seem to be in a state where conversation is possible. If he were, that person back then wouldn’t have died so helplessly.
While I was lost in those thoughts, the child who had been quiet shifted in my arms and spoke:
“Do you have a family, mister?”
Without waiting for Lee Hoin, I answered first.
“No.”
There was no need for him to answer.
For a moment, something flickered in the child’s eyes.
“Really? Why not? Why don’t you have a family? Why?”
Why does he sound excited?
—
[Well, who knows. Children’s worlds are often incomprehensible.]
[What could be going on in that tiny head?]
—
I had never once felt ashamed of being an orphan. I never tried to find or long for the parents who abandoned me as an infant.
If you think of it as something you never had to begin with, it becomes easy to give up. I never even had it in the first place, so there was nothing to hope for.
“I just don’t. I’m an orphan.”
“Orphan? That means no family, right? Right?”
His eyes were so bright they almost seemed devoid of light. With those eyes, he clutched me tightly and asked.
Is it really that exciting that I don’t have a family?
“…Yeah.”
Even though it felt unpleasant, I nodded. It was true.
“Then is there anyone waiting for you?”
At that, my steps stopped for a moment. Lee Hoin also looked at the kid with a displeased expression, and I stared down at him silently.
What’s the point of this line of questioning?
—
[Maybe the goal is simply to dig into you!]
—
The kid grabbed my arm and shook it. At some point, he had completely come out from under the cloth and was staring straight at me.
“Hmm? Mister. I’m asking if someone is waiting for you.”
“Why does that matter?”
“Why wouldn’t it matter?”
He said it with an almost innocent gaze.
“This is really important.”
With serious eyes.
With eyes that, for an instant, seemed to turn pitch black, he said:
“This place is really quiet and really loud. The statues don’t talk anymore. The butler doesn’t talk to me anymore. Ernst just cries. The sound of the statues moving is too loud, the butler is too quiet, and the sound of Ernst dragging his hammer is too loud.”
So, the end of this insane line of thought…
“If someone is waiting for you, that means you have a family.”
But if there isn’t?
The kid gripped my arm tightly.
“That means you don’t have a family.”
Then…
“That means you can stay here.”
Right?
He grinned and laughed.
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