Black Killer Whale Baby - Chapter 18

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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 18
For some reason, dissatisfaction had been piling up inside me, making me want to flip everything over.
The problem was that I couldn’t complain about the lack of visible training progress, so what could I say?
Still, even so. To gather all these clothes just to do laundry once…
Moreover, judging by how they’d been stored, every single black garment was covered in a thick layer of dust.
“Teacher, about these clothes… you received them from the start and never took them out once, did you?”
“That is correct.”
“…”
I rubbed my face.
‘Ah, who was that subordinate who said Pierre liked cleanliness…?’
If I meet them in this lifetime, I’ll kill them. I absolutely will.
We made a promise that we don’t call someone clean just because they keep only their own room tidy, and even then just their own spot. You damned fish bastard.
I sighed deeply to myself.
“Teacher, everything else is fine, but what am I supposed to do about the water?”
“You still haven’t managed to summon water?”
It was as if he were looking at something utterly bizarre—or more precisely, something deficient.
At Father’s expression as he passed by, I too became exasperated.
“Your strength, agility, and stamina should be at a level incomparable to your age.”
“Then shouldn’t I be compared to my own age? Didn’t I tell you? Didn’t I brag? I even defeated an eight-year-old.”
“If you can’t do at least that much, you’re not of direct descent.”
“…This is why I hate talking to geniuses.”
“What?”
I thrust my belly out confidently. Heh heh.
“No, listen. I’m a complete genius in my class too.”
Then Pierre’s expression became peculiar.
“You?”
Wow, look at how his words and expression match perfectly. A true example of consistency.
“It seems the standards of orcas have dropped quite considerably in recent times.”
…Pierre really does seem to be Grandmother’s son.
How could his sarcasm be so identical?
I know that he’s so excessively talented that he fails to understand ordinary people and even ordinary geniuses.
And yet, there were often times when I found it absurd. Like now.
‘Could it be that my older brothers all disliked Father because he acted this way?’
Judging from how my brothers all grumbled about Father or didn’t look particularly pleased when he became the patriarch.
In my previous life, Father died before I returned, so I don’t know for certain,
“Teacher should at least recognize how great I am.”
“Why should I.”
“Then you could feel proud of how well you taught me, right? You could even brag about it.”
“That’s a fair point.”
Right? Orcas basically live off the taste of their own excellence.
Seeing this, I always think that even Pierre, who lives in perpetual lethargy and resignation, is ultimately an orca at heart.
“Anyway, Teacher, laundry is fine and all… but what am I supposed to do about the water?”
At that, Pierre wore a contemplative expression for a moment before moving his hand slowly.
Water flowing from thin air wrapped around the mountain of laundry and lifted it gently into the air.
The window swung wide open.
I stared blankly as the laundry flew away.
‘Wow, using the power of water like that is also a skill. A real skill.’
Though I too was the strongest in my previous cycle, the way Pierre wielded the power of water was remarkably delicate, contrary to his personality.
Sometimes even I from the third cycle wonder if I could pull off control like that.
‘…I covet it.’
Had I been staring too intently?
I didn’t see what happened to the laundry after it went through the window.
“What are you looking at so hard?”
“Huh?”
“Go wash it.”
“But what am I supposed to—aaaah!”
The moment I felt the splash and my feet getting wet, I found myself floating, surrounded by water.
It felt like being a hamster trapped inside a giant hamster ball.
Since we’re aquatic creatures anyway, being wrapped in water won’t suffocate us to death… but.
‘My clothes are getting wet, my clothes!’
My father, whose only refinement lay in his power while his personality lacked any delicacy whatsoever—worse than a lion’s stench—simply hurled me right out the window.
I arrived at the fountain placed in front of Pierre’s building.
The fountain was filled with clear water, and the laundry was piled high, asserting its presence.
Moreover, the water kept bobbing gently, and soap that had been brought from somewhere was tossed in with a plop.
“What are you doing? Without stepping on it.”
When I lifted my head, I saw Pierre leaning loosely against the window frame, resting his chin on his hand.
“Teacher, you don’t happen to think of me as a maid instead of a disciple, do you?”
“Are you curious what actual maids do?”
“….”
I didn’t back down.
“Or perhaps you think of me as a slave?”
“I could let you experience that too, if you wish.”
“So I should step on them, right Teacher?”
In other words, my current treatment was actually the most favorable.
I grumbled and hitched up my skirt, preparing to step in.
‘This is really strange. What kind of training involves dumping housework on me like this.’
It was utterly bizarre.
I half suspected he was waiting for an opening so I’d clean and sweep this entire building with my own hands and make it spotless.
‘No, having a three-year-old remodel(?) an entire building—where’s the conscience in that.’
Of course, based on the results so far, I think it’s unlikely, but lately even that seems increasingly questionable.
What else can I do?
‘It’s not like I can’t train. If I’m told to do it, I have to do it.’
Though I’d never served in the military, I found myself empathizing with a new recruit’s plight, and I began stomping on the laundry with earnest determination.
The problem was….
‘My body is too light!’
To stomp laundry clean, I needed weight, but I fell far short. How much could a three-year-old possibly weigh?
“You won’t get the stains out that way. You’ll need to stomp for three days straight.”
“Ugh…!!”
I’m doing it. I’m doing it, I tell you.
I let my Teacher’s nagging wash over me as I pondered the situation.
If I don’t finish this, I won’t be able to go home.
There was a time before when I failed to complete the assigned cleaning, and after nearly sleeping in that building, I resolved to put my full effort into everything from then on.
“If I don’t have the weight, what should I do, Teacher? Oh, should I use my strength instead?”
“Yes. What else would you use your strength for?”
I put a bit more force into my legs and stomped down hard.
Oh, it’s working, it’s working…!
‘It’s working!!’
I lifted my head up sharply.
“Teacher, it’s working!! Did you see? Did you see! It worked!!”
I broke into the widest smile I could manage.
Water splashed a bit, but I didn’t care. I was delighted.
Ah, the path to becoming stronger truly is joyful!
‘I can apply weight this way too. This means I can overcome my small body in combat later, can’t I?!’
This body, which could only wait for time to pass quickly anyway.
I’d been contemplating how to overcome this weakness!
….
Without opening my mouth, I should focus on training instead.
I thought he might scold me, but when I looked up, Father had turned his head away for some reason.
Huh? Wasn’t he looking at me just a moment ago?
Well, it doesn’t matter.
“You’re right, Teacher. This really is the best!”
There. That’s lip service for you, old man!
I giggled and began stomping earnestly, so I failed to notice the gaze piercing down at the crown of my head once more.
Nor did I notice how Father’s expression had grown dark and sunken.
* * *
Calypso wiped away the beads of sweat forming on her brow.
‘Phew, there’s more than I expected.’
Despite her hard work, there was still a lot left.
This was unavoidable.
She’d overcome the weight through strength, but there was one thing Calypso hadn’t anticipated!
‘What can I do about having small feet!’
Ugh, how frustrating.
Calypso realized that for this, she could only hope that time would help her body grow, and she felt the frustration keenly.
Though she herself hadn’t fully grasped it, she was genuinely committed to growing stronger because of her third life.
Moreover, her spirit was unbreakable.
Even as she muttered to herself “three years old, three years old,” she failed to recall the basic fact that an ordinary three-year-old beast-kin could never endure what she was doing.
The same went for her father Pierre, who was making her do all of this.
Though neither of them realized it, one could say it was a sight of “like father, like daughter.”
Before long, the sun was setting in the distance.
Watching the fading sunset, Calypso fell into contemplation.
‘What do I do about what’s left….’
Should I do it tomorrow?
Or should I do a little more and finish it all?
If it gets late, that rabbit-like child will start whimpering with worry…
No, thinking of the school of herring-like handmaidens who would worry, Calypso fell into deeper contemplation.
And she didn’t notice the shadow approaching her.
‘What exactly is that existence doing.’
Pierre, watching the small back, fell into a kind of worry he had never experienced in his entire life.
Throughout his life, wherever he went, he had never encountered a being or object that sparked his interest.
To be precise, wherever he went, he himself was the being that sparked interest.
He was too busy finding such attention bothersome.
“Shall we make a wager, Orca Duke. I’m certain that someday you’ll be flustered by an existence similar to yourself.”
If there was one exception to mention… it would be his wife who had entered into a strategic marriage with him.
But she had been dead for a long time now.
“Ah… Teacher!”
Though she surely knew he was her father.
That little one was remarkably free of mistakes.
“Teacher, I was frowning because I haven’t finished all of this, right? I was just thinking for a moment.”
“….”
…Wouldn’t it be natural if, by mistake, she called him Father instead of Teacher just once?
Wrinkles etched themselves across Pierre’s languid expression.

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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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