Deadline Is Raining in the Status Window - Chapter 151

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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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Kanna pretended to think for a moment, then burst out laughing. Well, at least you’re smiling now—that’s enough for me. After a hearty breakfast, we said our goodbyes at the gates of Moonlit Nocturne Season Two before heading off to our respective tasks. I pulled Reina and Kanna aside separately and spoke to them in hushed tones.
“When we meet again, let’s have a longer conversation about this, you demon bastards.”
“…!”
“….”
Kanna looked startled, while Reina’s expression suggested she wondered if I was going to keep bringing this up. So you thought you could just pretend not to know forever, you demon gorilla.
“What did you say to them?”
“That Reina is an intelligent gorilla.”
“Wouldn’t a gorilla be smarter than that?”
“Hmm. You have a point.”
Eugene and I calmly assessed Reina as we descended the mountain. By the time we arrived at the Brandenburg Townhouse, course registration for the intersession was already underway.

◇ ◆ ◇

I’d suspected as much when we arrived a day late, but all the desirable courses were already full. What remained after filtering through the options were superstring theory, advanced linguistics, and philosophy discussion—Eugene and I couldn’t help but shed a few tears.
If only we’d arrived a day earlier. We wouldn’t have faced this tragedy. But of course, just as we were coming down the mountain, the Ismail Territory Kebab Festival happened to be in full swing. The traditional spiced kebabs were roasting deliciously on the grills, and we had no choice but to turn back.
So we ate. Eugene and I ate and ate again. When we were full, we’d take a digestive and eat some more. The teenage stomach was a fearsome thing. We ate with the momentum to bankrupt the festival.
“What’s the big deal about some kebab.”
“Don’t call Iskendel Auntie’s kebab just ‘some kebab!'”
“That’s not even the point!”
Now I was fighting with Eugene too. After bickering on the street for a while, we both realized the argument was pointless and trudged onward. A magnificent carriage that had been passing by us suddenly came to a halt.
“Well, well, what a coincidence, you youngsters.”
That voice didn’t sound like a coincidence at all. We turned our heads, thinking we’d heard Duke Zibenstein’s voice, then trudged onward again. It was indeed Duke Zibenstein.
“Aw, if you ignore me, this old man’s heart will break♡”
Because the old man literally shot out something like a heart from his cheek, Eugene and I reflexively bolted.
“Hey! Hey, you brats! Stop right there!”
The carriage door suddenly opened, and my neck grew heavy. Using some kind of magic, the ridiculous duke had appeared behind us and grabbed our collars.
“Gotcha, ugh!”
But he lacked the strength to hold us. The ridiculous duke was fast, but his raw power was pathetic. As we pushed forward, he tumbled ahead of us, landing face-first on the ground and crying out desperately.
“Come back! I’ll help you with course registration!”
Oh, so being the Former Dean means he has connections at the Academy? Even if that weren’t the case, as a duke now, he could probably pressure the Headmaster.
“….”
But my father is a duke too, isn’t he? If it’s something that can be done with ducal authority, couldn’t I just ask Father instead?
“By ‘help,’ do you mean using your ducal position?”
“Nah, the Academy has extraterritorial rights anyway. Of course I’m just leveraging a friend’s connections.”
Hmm, so he’s using Ilyong’s connections. Come to think of it, that man has incredible interpersonal skills for a dragon, so if he asked other department professors to look after our students, it would probably work.
“Should we hear what he has to say?”
“Still, isn’t that guy the pervert who was going on about making you his adopted daughter or something?”
“I’m desperate enough to take anyone at this point. If you don’t want to do a duet, that’s fine too.”
“If Evan is willing….”
“Does this really hurt your feelings, sir?”
Watching the middle-aged man puff out his cheeks and hum indignantly made me want to flee again. But I had no confidence I wouldn’t fall asleep listening to string theory.
“Damn it, if only it wasn’t string theory.”
“Huh? You kids listen to string theory? That’s fun!”
“Tch.”
“Tch.”
When Eugene and I twisted our expressions into grimaces, Duke Neftis whimpered about what he’d said wrong this time. Figuring it would be less troublesome to just comply, I decided to follow the man.
“My, our daughter is rising fast in the world. I hear you’ve already received a baronial title?”
“I’m not your daughter.”
“And they say you’re planning to bring Hasain to Cecilia too. I should have grabbed you then.”
“Do you have some terminal illness that kills you if you don’t narrow your shoulders and giggle like that every time you speak?”
“Oh, my daughter is so sharp!”
“I’m not your daughter.”
Since the man had actually followed me, I grabbed Duke Neftis by the collar and shook him when his nonsense threatened to continue the entire carriage ride. He finally got to the point—he wanted to see Butler Grandfather of Zibenstein.
“You see, you see, I was hoping you’d write me a song.”
That wasn’t a problem. Dr. Bruno’s compositions were good, except for their solemn lyrics. The first full album was already at the factory stage for record pressing, so I couldn’t get involved there, but I could arrange the planning for a mini-album or single through Sunbird.
“If that’s the request, it would be faster to find Sunbird instead of me.”
“I really want our daughter to sing this one.”
“I’m not your daughter.”
I accepted the sheet music and the paper with hastily scrawled lyrics that Duke Neftis handed me. I hummed through the melody first to verify it, then layered the lyrics over it, and a sweet melody flowed from my lips.
“I want to become your ideology♪”
…?
Hmm…?
Let’s build a small community in our future, there are no class distinctions between you and me, our love burns bright, conceptually employing dialectics, grounded in materialism, uh-huh-uh-oh?
“What is this?”
“A love song.”
“This is?”
“Why, Evan, the song sounds pretty good?”
“This is?”
Seeing Eugene being fooled by the melody, I finished reading the lyrics and calmly explained the song’s theme.
“Materialist socialism.”
Eugene snatched the sheet music from my hand without hesitation and tore it to shreds. Dr. Bruno made shooting sounds at Eugene—”bang bang bang”—and acted cute again.
“I have copies♥”
That man is absolutely infuriating. This time he was the one grabbed by the collar in Eugene’s hands, and whether it hurt more than when I’d grabbed him, he quickly cried surrender and promised to change the lyrics.
“Since this is a couple song, I was really hoping you’d perform it with one more member from our group.”
“I’m not your daughter.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m an engaged woman, so I’ll have to decline.”
That made sense. In that case, Sunbird would also decline because of Sera. So by process of elimination, only Seian Crowell was left? Though he probably wouldn’t like it. When I said as much, Eugene and Dr. Bruno widened their eyes and said something I hadn’t expected.
“Evan, realistically speaking, wouldn’t calling it a duet with Reina have broader appeal?”
“I only found out from the setting guide that I’m supposed to be in a rivals-to-lovers dynamic with Count Letem’s daughter?”
The setting guide pushes me and Seian incredibly hard, doesn’t it? How could anyone possibly interpret me and Reina as being in that kind of relationship? I told them Reina would be horrified to hear this, and Duke Neftis tilted his head in confusion. I wanted to punch him.
“Meanwhile, I thought Crowell had become something even bigger while I was locked away.”
A decade is enough time for mountains to change, after all. Regardless, if I have to call it a duet with Reina, I won’t do it. Compromise on Seian instead. When I said this, Dr. Bruno muttered as if he had no choice.
“It’d be better if it sells more copies anyway.”
This man has no intention of changing the lyrics either, does he? He’s completely determined to indoctrinate people through their daily lives?
“Alright then, let’s meet formally at the studio later! Take care, my dear daughters and friends!”
“I am not your daughter.”
The man who kindly drove me all the way to the Brandenburg Townhouse lingered, asking if he couldn’t just have a cup of tea before leaving since he’d come this far, until he was chased away by Eugene’s gardener. The gardener was terrifying, charging after him with shears in hand.
That night, I sent a letter to Seian through Brandenburg’s servants, asking—prepared to be rejected—if he would sing a love song as a duet with me. The servant returned with an immediate reply in what was unmistakably Seian’s handwriting, and it said he would do it.
Seian must be financially strapped this vacation. Eugene and I put our heads together and discussed it, reaching that conclusion.

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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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