Black-Haired Dad Isn’t Something You Reap - Chapter 78

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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 78. People don’t change until they die. If they change, it means their time has come. (2)
“Why would I entrust her to people who aren’t even blood relatives?”
“I’m practically her grandmother, I’m telling you.”
“Maternal grandmothers have always been the ones who raise children best.”
“You’ve already ruined two daughters’ lives, and here you are speaking so confidently.”
“Fine then, I’ll kill her.”
Oh no, this time Head Attendant Grandmother has gone too far! My Maternal Grandmother is the type who actually follows through on her threats, so I threw myself forward with all my might and planted myself directly in front of her.
“Just this once, please! Grandmother, just this once!”
“Why should I?”
I didn’t want to deploy this weapon, but I had no choice. I approached Uprina Lorowi and tugged at her pant leg. She crouched down on her knees like before and leaned in to listen to me.
“Yupi, just this once, please?”
“….”
Grandmother took a deep breath, then patted my head reassuringly. After that, she walked over to Butler Grandfather and gave him a sharp flick on the forehead.
“When did you start bringing up old stories?”
“Haha.”
So he’s “grandfather” to me but “mister” to her. How interesting. Well, if Choco and I lived another fifty years, we’d probably be called grandmother and grandfather by the children too.
“The tour guide has been assigned, hasn’t it? I sent word this morning.”
“Yes! Right here, sir!”
Grandmother is still active duty, I see. She’s still being called “sir.” This is a bit strange. The current Marquess is my Aunt, so shouldn’t my Aunt be “sir” and Grandmother be the elder?
Seeing commanding officers gathered around Grandmother calling her “sir” and “Commander” felt oddly out of place, so I naturally glanced toward my Aunt. When our eyes met, she smiled awkwardly and took my hand.
“Pisha, let’s go ride the tank. I’ll drive it for you too.”
“Okay!”
Well, the Lorowi family affairs are theirs to handle. With my Aunt as our guide, I got to see all sorts of things alongside the tour group ladies. I even climbed inside the latest tank used in actual combat, fired a machine gun inside the vehicle with Shirley, and watched soldiers launch mortars. They only let us watch the mortars since it’s genuinely dangerous without proper training.
After that, we ran around having a blast, and we lined up to get military rations. They didn’t taste particularly good, but eating from metal trays was fun.
Just before we left, Shirley was so reluctant that she threw a fit insisting she absolutely had to grease the caterpillar treads, so Grandmother had no choice but to bring lubricant. We took turns pouring it, and ended up covered in oil.
“How filthy. I was thinking of having you wash anyway because of the dust.”
“The Estate has a large bathhouse. I’ll have it prepared.”
The grandmothers really work well together when it comes to things like this. We got rolled up in blankets like packages and carried off. After arriving at Lorowi Mansion, Shirley and I were whisked away by my Aunt to the bathhouse, while Croa was left in the hands of the servants. Since he was a boy, he couldn’t bathe in the same bathhouse as us.
“Poor Croa, he’s missing out on all the fun gossip in the bathhouse.”
“He should have been born a girl then.”
“He’s actually going to feel really sad about this, so can you please stop?”
Right, okay. I’ll stop teasing him. When you get him upset, there’s no fixing it.
Shirley and I quickly washed up and came out to rejoin Croa. With our hair still damp, we each cracked open a square carton of apple milk.
Ah, now that’s the taste. Ten percent apple concentrate and milk flavor approximated with skim milk powder—the taste of mass-produced goods. This is Kisomalos’s bathhouse culture.
“Pisha, look at the sky! There are so many stars!”
“Oh, I guess it’s easier to see them out in the countryside.”
The Capital is a city that never sleeps, and Shirley’s family runs mines and gemstone processing factories, so we rarely get to see a sky like this. Even though I was dragged here half-against my will, this must be what makes visiting the Maternal Grandmother’s Estate so worthwhile.
“Tonight, let’s all three sleep together.”
“Well, my feet get cold, you know?”
“Well, whether your feet get cold doesn’t matter, does it?”
Hmm, those two are at it again. I was thinking of leaving the children to their quarrel and going to get my hair done, but surprisingly, my Maternal Grandmother stepped in to mediate.
“I shall offer you Lutia’s room. The bed there is spacious enough for you both to share.”
“Lutia?”
“Who is Lutia?”
Who indeed is Lutia? The moment that thought crossed my mind, I remembered that my mother’s name was Lutia, and milk shot out of my nose.
“Cough! Hack! Sputter!”
“Pisha!”
“Pisha, are you alright?”
Was my maternal family cursed to have absurdly named members across generations? Yupi, then Lutia, then Pisha—what kind of ridiculous family was this?
“Lutia’s room is in the Villa. I shall show you the way.”
The Villa—that’s where the Guest Room building is, isn’t it? I wouldn’t need to move my luggage then. But if that room had been Mother’s, wouldn’t it have been empty for ages? I’d worried it might not be clean, but the reality that awaited me was far different from what I’d anticipated.
“Wow….”
“Oh. Um, well….”
The room, decorated in nothing but white and black, was completely wallpapered with photographs of Helbatro—large and small—arranged in chronological order of his growth.
“Though no one uses this room, I have instructed the staff to clean it daily. It is spotless, so feel free to use it from today onward.”
Having finished her business, Grandmother returned to the main Estate building. I was utterly exhausted. It was difficult enough having to explain who Lutia was, and even more difficult having to explain why the room looked like this.
“Please… hang in there, Pisha.”
“You resemble your father in appearance, so you should be fine. At least for now, you’re perfectly intact.”
But the children were perceptive enough to sense something was amiss, and they comforted me without pressing further.
I let out a long sigh and told them a bit about Mother. When I recounted the history of how Mother had chased after Father, Shirley and Croa embraced me and patted my back in silent sympathy.

✦ ✦ ✦
The next day had no particular schedule, so I decided to draft a legislative proposal. Croa, Shirley, and I put our heads together to figure out how to get the law passed, when my Maternal Grandmother sent word through the Estate’s internal communication system that she would be visiting our room.
As my friends and I hurriedly organized the legal codes and documents, the elderly butler from yesterday appeared alongside Grandmother, his arms full of what looked like toys.
“What are all these papers?”
“Oh, well, we were discussing something that could make money. Grandmother shouldn’t see this.”
“Do you need money?”
“Quite a bit, actually….”
Right now, between operating the Princess Palace and various other expenses, I owed the Chiron Duke’s House tens of billions in personal debt. When I mentioned this, Grandmother snorted and brought up the proposal she’d made before.
“If you succeed Lorowi, I shall pay off such debts for you.”
“We’ve been over this.”
What I urgently needed to settle wasn’t the debt to Emperor—it was reducing the debt that Kisomalos had incurred from foreign powers. The idea of whether transferring my name to Lorowi would mean I wouldn’t have to repay Kisomalos’s debt was somewhat tempting, so I’d ask about it once he regained his senses.
“What do you have in your hand? A toy?”
“Something similar. A model.”
Surely we were past the age of playing with toy models. Looking at what Grandmother had laid out on the floor, it wasn’t even an impressive automobile model—it was a shabby-looking toy airplane.
Why was she bringing outdated toys? A few years ago, after some brothers succeeded in their first flight, airplanes came into military use and became wildly popular among the people, though the craze didn’t last long.
Because these things could only stay airborne for a very brief time, their practicality was limited. The airships already in commercial use could carry far more cargo, had greater flight range, and reached maximum speeds of 200 kilometers per hour. They were mass-produced and cheap, so there was no reason for anyone to invest in airplanes. Nowadays, only nobles used them occasionally as a hobby.
“I thought you’d understand what I mean, so I brought this. I’m not simply asking the Air Force to let me have a say in things.”
Oh, what do you mean by that?
I plopped down on the floor beside Grandmother, and Shirley and Croa settled quietly beside me. My Maternal Grandmother picked up the model and began her explanation.
“As you know, aircraft have limited flight range. At most, they can fly two kilometers, which makes them useless even as reconnaissance craft.”
“True. That’s why the Army Strategic Command didn’t bother mentioning them either, I heard.”
“But what if we mounted aircraft on the supply airship you proposed? Equip them with machine guns and bomb-dropping mechanisms.”
“Gasp!”
Then we’d have an actual flying combat unit! The short flight range becomes irrelevant when the aircraft are carried aboard the mothership airship. We could strike strategic positions at various points and return to the mothership—even aircraft with limited range could manage that. Since the Air Force airships will be painted with ground transparent spirit stones, we’d essentially have flying assassination squads in the sky!

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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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