Black-Haired Dad Isn’t Something You Reap - Chapter 219

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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 219. To Protect the Narrator, This Chapter Proceeds in Third Person (6)
The next day.
Croa hummed cheerfully while conducting business with the deputy ministers of Media stationed in Kisomalos. The Media flag fluttered at one corner of the Outer Palace, with a sign marking it as Media territory—which was somewhat amusing. But the matter of non-Media citizens being arrested as illegal entrants if they crossed the line was decidedly not amusing.
“Your Majesty, you seem to be in excellent spirits today.”
“Oh, was it that obvious?”
Croa Gede Media, the young King of Media, chuckled and spoke words that dripped with menace.
“I think I might actually be able to kill the Narak Cult Leader.”
“….”
“….”
“….”
The deputy ministers silently agreed to offer no response. It seemed that from spending so many years with the Kisomalos Princess, Croa’s nature had grown increasingly cruel with each passing year. In truth, it was merely the descendant following in the ancestor’s footsteps.
“I hear the Compulsory Education Ordinance has been brought before the Nobility Council. Should we begin preparations as well?”
Most laws proposed by Princess Vishnabel had been coordinated with the King of Media beforehand, so they often proceeded simultaneously. Particularly with this matter—it seemed unlikely to originate from the Princess’s mind, which viewed citizens as mere production units—so they probed whether this might actually be Croa’s initiative.
Upon hearing of the compulsory education ordinance, Croa’s expression darkened considerably.
“The Compulsory Education Ordinance will not pass the council, so you need not concern yourselves with it.”
“But if the Kisomalos Princess pushes for it, it would typically pass, would it not?”
“I’ll lie down in front of Pisha’s door and throw a tantrum until it doesn’t pass.”
Could such words truly come from the mouth of a nation’s king? The deputy ministers sighed, but Croa had no leisure to concern himself with such matters.
“Where are you going again?”
When Croa rose from his seat during the meeting—and for the third time in thirty minutes—the deputy minister of national defense, unable to bear it any longer, asked the reason. Croa explained his departure with utmost seriousness.
“I’m going to call the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to ask when the Narak Cult Leader is arriving.”
“…But you’ve already gone twice since we started.”
“His schedule might have changed in the meantime.”
How unseemly obsession looks on the young. The deputy ministers clicked their tongues, but none dared stop Croa. After all, the King of Media’s degradation due to the Kisomalos Princess was hardly a recent development.
“Your Highness, Your Highness! The Cult Leader has landed at the Airship Landing Pad!”
“Is that true!”
How long had he been king, and people still called him “Your Highness”? The Media people all frowned, but none could protest to Choco. Everyone valued their own necks too much.
“Then I’ll go take a look!”
“Wait just a moment, Your Majesty! There’s still work remaining.”
“You all handle it fine without me anyway!”
If only he’d actually let them handle it without losing his head! The deputy ministers watched their king dash away on inline skates, decided to end the meeting here, and headed off to enjoy the Imperial Palace’s famous golden fleece honey taffy. They were all middle-aged, after all, and at an age when sweets called to them.
“The electric chair! Definitely the electric chair!”
Croa chanted “electric chair” like an incantation as he cut across the great road leading to the Main Palace. Though Choco could have overtaken him on her inline skates, she ran at a leisurely pace out of consideration for the prince.
“You seem quite delighted, if I may say so?”
“Of course I am!”
Pisha would return to normal, and he’d finally have the chance to take care of the Narak Cult Leader—how could he not be overjoyed?
Croa had despised the Narak Cult Leader for the past ten years. He despised him with absolute, unwavering perfection. He hated how their musical tastes differed, how every little preference was incompatible. He hated how the Cult Leader presumed to marry Pisha. He hated how the man garnered sympathy from Pisha with his tragic past. He hated how, as Hisperon’s brother—the one Pisha loved most—he gained additional points just by existing. He hated how his personality was entertaining enough that even the Emperor found him agreeable.
And he hated his appearance for being so irritating. He hated the mole beneath his eye for being so infuriatingly charming. He hated how the Cult Leader and Pisha seemed to click so naturally when discussing business matters. He hated how, though the man had been shorter than Croa in childhood, he’d grown to surpass him by roughly two centimeters as they aged.
He simply hated everything about him. He’d wished the man dead long ago. Die, Narak!
But now, whether due to Pisha’s brainwashing or not, an opportunity had finally presented itself to kill him officially. Croa had no intention of letting this chance slip away. If not now, such an opportunity might never come again. The man was slipperier than an eel—he’d wriggle free from everything.
I coldly criticized the situation and passionately urged Father to eliminate her this time. Croa repeated to himself to find his composure as he arrived at the Main Palace.
At the same time, several armored vehicles from Aelset pulled in, and Nanakda stepped out of the car with a brazen expression. Croa’s eyes went wild in an instant, and he lunged at Nanakda.
“Whoa, you can’t do this!”
“King of Media! Please calm down!”
Croa broke through the security personnel with a body check, grabbed Nanakda by the collar, and unleashed a flurry of punches. A sickening crack echoed from Nanakda’s neck.
“Aaaah!”
“Because of you! Because of you, Pisha!”
“What did I do?!”
“Because of you, Pisha approved thirty-six national welfare policies with her stamp!”
“Isn’t that good?!”
Nanakda screamed in protest, and his five subordinates, arriving belatedly and half-heartedly, separated him from Croa.
“Your Majesty, I understand your feelings, but let’s call it even after that one punch.”
“Honestly, the Cult Leader did overstep this time.”
“Yeah.”
“At first I agreed to the brainwashing too, but watching the Princess do her thing… it just didn’t feel right.”
“I screamed when she kept saying ‘sawa yo, hawa wa yo’ at the end of every sentence.”
Listening to Nanakda’s five subordinates, the first emotion Croa felt was relief. From the way things were going, it seemed Nanakda had no intention of prolonging the brainwashing either.
But this way, I couldn’t execute Nanakda. After a brief moment of thought, Croa released his grip on the man’s collar and spoke calmly.
“Why don’t you try insisting that you won’t undo the brainwashing first?”
“Are you trying to get me killed with your prayers?”
Since fighting back would be futile, Nanakda abandoned any counterattack, brushed off his clothes, and headed toward the Emperor’s Office. After announcing his arrival and entering, he saw Princess Vishnabel laughing in an exuberant, carefree manner, and the Emperor disassembling and cleaning a Walter revolver.
“You’re not planning to shoot me with that, are you?”
“It depends on what nonsense comes out of your mouth.”
“Yikes, how ominous.”
Nanakda first unwrapped a gift to present to Princess Vishnabel. He had deliberated extensively over which jewels would suit the ceremonial staff for the coronation, and since this was a nation of golden sheep, Imperial topaz seemed like the only fitting choice.
“Review this and use it for coronation decorations.”
“Oh my! You even thought of something like this—thank you so much.”
Watching Vishnabel speak in her saccharine manner, Nanakda frowned with an “ugh.” Though he was the one who had created her this way, he couldn’t help but feel repulsed. After all, no matter how much of a mess she was, Pisha in her natural state was best.
Besides, the plan to create Vishnabel was a long-term project, so this was merely a process.
“It can be reversed to the original state, right?”
“Of course. I just need to withdraw Grant’s divine power and list the keywords to undo the brainwashing.”
If it were that simple, wouldn’t re-applying the brainwashing also be convenient? Chiron and Croa harbored doubts, but before they could voice them, Nanakda spoke up.
“Before that, first! I have something I want to tell Princess Vishnabel!”
Nanakda cleared his throat and broached the first of two primary objectives behind this brainwashing incident.
“I! Can marry even the current Princess Vishnabel!”
“…?”
“It’s completely possible! I will accept any version of Princess Vishnabel! No matter what state you’re in, I love you simply because you’re you!”
“No, if you say things like that, it puts me in a difficult position!”
Croa too wanted to say he would love any version of Pisha, but given that it contradicted everything he had done so far, he could only keep his mouth shut. Hadn’t he thought countless times that he couldn’t accept the current Pisha? And hadn’t he even postponed the wedding because of it?
Then did that mean he loved Pisha less than that fool Nanakda? Croa was confused.

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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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