Black-Haired Dad Isn’t Something You Reap - Chapter 144

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 144. Girl Scouts and Boy Scouts Are the Royalty Hell Inflicted Upon Non-Outdoor Children (4)
“My daughter is occasionally brilliant, but most of the time she’s an absolute mess—and she lives like one too.”
“Why am I a mess?!”
“You cause this level of chaos every single day?”
“Hey! Not every day!”
“That’s right. More like once every two days.”
“Not even that often! You’re the mess!”
You’re a mess! Father’s a mess! I shouted this while kicking his shin with all my might. Father seemed to enjoy the blows, laughing heartily as he placed the firewood on the waterproof cloth. Who enjoys getting hit? My father must be a pervert.
“Still, meeting people really does frighten me….”
“Until you’re mentally prepared, I’ll handle the Duke’s affairs myself. Until then, it’s only the Fiefdom administrator who’ll be worked to death.”
“I’m the one getting lectured!”
“And one more thing.”
With a grunt, Father hoisted Croa up and, rattling off Little One’s abilities, threatened Looping.
“The Prince of Media can cast curses. If I negotiate with the Media deity to bear the backlash myself, I can even place a curse that will make your entire body burst if you try to escape without inheriting the title.”
“Kyaaaaaaah!”
“Haha. If it’s Father’s request, I’ll gladly bear half the burden myself.”
“I’m not your father yet.”
Father set Croa down and stretched the boy’s cheeks. Croa whimpered “Ow, ow,” but somehow looked pleased about it. Is he a pervert too?
“The sun will set at this rate. I’ll prepare dinner, so you all set up the tents.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Let’s build all our tents! Father and Choco will sleep with us too!”
“We got close to success last time despite the struggle, so I think we can assemble them properly this time.”
With Looping’s help, we managed to set up one tent, and once the first was done, the second and third came together easily. We even added some modifications to the last tent—rigging up an awning and making the floor more cushioned.
“Pisha can sleep here.”
“It’s totally a princess-exclusive setup!”
“So then, the Prince of Media and I will share a tent?”
“Father probably doesn’t want to share with Choco, so he’ll probably sleep with me.”
“That makes sense.”
Two grown men wouldn’t want to share anyway. So that means Shirley and I, Croa and Father, Choco and Looping will share tents?
“Little ones! The meat’s all cooked!”
“Wow! Do you have the roasted sweet potatoes we failed on earlier?!”
“I roasted corn too.”
“This is exciting!”
Wow! It’s a barbecue party!
The meat sizzled over the charcoal grill, and a slightly spicy vegetable soup bubbled on the gas burner. I’d tasted it earlier, and the vegetable broth had created such a deep, complex flavor. How is Father so skilled at cooking?
“Ahhh!”
Oh, how I envy him! He’s pulling bottled beer from Father’s cooler!
As Father grilled the meat and ate while taking refreshing gulps of cold beer, he made that automatic sound that comes with drinking beer, and I found myself swallowing hard in envy.
“Cola! Let’s drink cola! There’s no Chief Chamberlain here—it’s a rebellion!”
“Yay! Cola!”
“What is cola?”
“It’s an extremely sweet beverage that hurts your throat.”
What? Croa doesn’t like cola? This guy only eats health food, so just how long is he planning to live?
“Ahhh! So refreshing!”
We each held a bottle of cola and toasted as we enjoyed the barbecue. It tasted even better after such grueling labor.
“Spare ribs! The spare ribs are so delicious, Pisha!”
“No, it’s even tastier than Chef Bap’s cooking! It’s moist all the way through! What sorcery did you use!”
“Heh, the secret is basting it with apple brandy while it cooks.”
Wow! Father is absolutely amazing, seriously! While I was gasping in admiration, I noticed Croa was diligently writing down Father’s recipe. Is that kid planning to become a chef?
“Are you interested in cooking? Should I hire you a teacher?”
“No, I think learning from you would be best.”
“Huh, really?”
“Yes. Grilling barbecue is Father’s duty!”
I see. Indeed, there’s a universal understanding that grilling meat outdoors is always the father’s job. Croa is already brimming with enthusiasm to dedicate himself to his household. How admirable.
After eating our fill, we washed up at the Princess Palace, gathered sleeping bags for camping, and headed to the tent. We planned to linger by the campfire a bit longer before sleeping, but Father gave us a lamp containing a light spirit stone and a small device.
“What’s this?”
“A radio prototype.”
“Wow!”
So once the broadcasting business starts, we’ll be able to listen to radio broadcasts with this? As I excitedly lifted the radio, my friends and Looping gathered around to admire it together.
“It’s smaller than I imagined.”
“There aren’t actually many components inside. The biggest parts are probably the crystal and the speaker.”
“What is a radio?”
Well, you see, it’s an outbound signal receiver I came up with on the spot when I was in danger of having a location tracker implanted in my body. When I explained that it captures radio waves floating in the air and converts them into sound, Looping nodded in understanding with an impressed expression.
Damn, there’s no real excitement in their reactions. They’re like geniuses or something.
Crackle.
“Huh?”
Since we’re not broadcasting now, there shouldn’t be any signal to pick up, right? I was a bit startled wondering if some ghost story was about to unfold, but before long, a familiar voice came through.
―Microphone test. Can you hear me? Ah, this system doesn’t allow for responses, does it.
“It’s the Head Attendant Grandmother!”
“No wonder she disappeared earlier!”
The static was heavy, so I extended the antenna and adjusted the direction, and soon a clear sound flowed from the speaker.
―So then, Tania Listo’s Starlit Night…. This title was given by the Emperor himself, so I had no naming authority. Ahem, well then, let’s begin the broadcast. For our first song request, let’s hear the story from Emily, who has been at the Princess Palace for five years.
“Me too! I want to submit a song request!”
“Military songs at night are too loud.”
“Ah, I’ll pick something quiet then!”
I gathered with my friends, each wrote down a song request, and sent a letter via Imperial Guard to the Ministry of Culture and Arts where the broadcast was happening.
One side room of the Princess Palace was brightly lit even though we weren’t there, and seeing people gathered together suggested they had also sent a radio prototype there. The Imperial Guards and the Emilys must be listening to the same broadcast.
―Next story, this one came from an anonymous Jailer at the Political Detention Center. Anonymous Grandmother, didn’t you already have dinner earlier?
“Hahaha, ahahaha.”
“Isn’t that about Lorowi?”
“Pfft, as if that’s possible.”
Besides, the Chamberlain isn’t old enough to be senile yet. I figured some Jailer who’d been thoroughly tormented by Lorowi must have borrowed the power of anonymity to send in a complaint cursing her out.
We were so fascinated by the radio that we lost track of time listening to the broadcast. We were so absorbed that we didn’t even notice the firewood had run out, and we had to dash around midway to rekindle the flames.
And the Head Attendant Grandmother’s broadcast, which had been flooded with song requests, finally ended just before midnight.
It didn’t end because the requests dried up—Grandmother simply couldn’t continue anymore, saying she was exhausted, so she shut down the broadcast with a click of the switch.
We found even that mishap amusing and laughed for a while before heading into the tent to sleep.

✦ ✦ ✦
“Ugh! I feel so stiff and sluggish!”
“That’s what sleeping outdoors does to you.”
Perhaps because the sleeping arrangements were uncomfortable, we all woke up early in the morning and greeted each other with tired faces. I’d have to squeeze in a nap after lunch later.
“Everyone gather around.”
Father must have prepared something for the morning broadcast as well, because he switched on the radio with everyone gathered. After waiting a moment, music flowed out, and we began moving our bodies one by one to the familiar morning exercise tune we usually heard.
“Certainly, the sound quality isn’t as good as records.”
“Hmm, improvements will be necessary.”
Since this was still just a prototype, there was much to refine. And later, a premium model would probably be released separately, wouldn’t it? I’d only heard it in passing, but apparently in the Western Continent, which isn’t part of the Central Continental Alliance, they have acoustic devices using vacuum tubes.
Those Western Nations where Edison stole the heat engine blueprints from. Really, it would be nice if we could exchange technology and live in peace, but the problem is that the Western Nations keep their doors closed and refuse diplomacy. I’m half-tempted to just drag the Air Force over there and force them to open up.
“Your Majesty! Your Majesty, urgent news!”
Just as we were finishing the morning exercises, a bureaucrat I frequently saw at Father’s office came running toward the Princess Palace Camping Site. He seemed to be from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The man kept glancing nervously at me before leaning in to whisper something in Father’s ear.
“What is it? Is there something I’m not supposed to hear?”
I’m the Princess, aren’t I? If it’s information the Princess can’t hear, how classified could it possibly be? When I chimed in, saying I wanted to know the news too, Father’s expression grew serious as he opened his mouth.
“Nanark Astiages. You remember the Fifth Prince of Astiages, don’t you?”
“Huh? Of course I do. Why Nanark?”
“He was executed yesterday, apparently.”
“…What?”
I was left utterly dumbfounded.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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