Deadline Is Raining in the Status Window - Chapter 230

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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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An A+ grade is non-negotiable. I’d already decided to abandon my principles and pride for the sake of my GPA. Besides, he was offering a free A+, wasn’t he?
“That madman’s exploits are countless. I wish you’d narrow the scope of your research.”
“That’s fair. So then….”
The Professor handed me a file of newspaper clippings and showed me an article with a black-and-white photograph. In the image, Bruno Kenin was young, the Department Head Professor was young, and together they were performing music.
“Let’s make it about the relationship between civic movements and folk songs, and their significance.”
In that instant, the “March for Him” echoed through my mind.

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I received a Quest to write a report on Bruno Kenin. The reward was an A+. But I didn’t head straight to the Zibenstein Townhouse. I wasn’t mentally prepared yet.
Given the circumstances, I should visit Cecilia’s Palace, mooch some coffee, gossip about the Bachelor and Duke Zibenstein, grab White One, and head home. With that thought, I vaulted over the Imperial Palace wall. If I’d come as the Eldest Daughter of Neftis, I’d need to verify my identity at the main gate, but now I was here as the Lord of Territory of Ilam, Cecilia’s confidant, and her friend—so none of that was necessary. I’d just decided it.
But something was off about the Crown Princess Palace. It should have been gloomy with no sign of life, yet it buzzed with subtle activity, carts moving back and forth. Beings of light and beings of darkness mingled together. My vision was starting to blur.
“Young Mark Three!”
“Oh, Evan Mitchell!”
Looking around for someone I knew, Mark Three caught my eye. I called the child over and asked about the situation, and the Starving Child kindly explained.
“Cecilia is no longer the Emperor, is she? She must move her residence to the Main Palace accordingly.”
“Who are those glittering ones?”
“They are Sera’s attendants. Now Sera has become both Crown Prince and Crown Princess.”
So that’s how it happened. It must have been moving day. The beings of light mingled among the darkness were Sera’s retinue.
“So to meet Cecilia, I just go to the Main Palace?”
“Oh! Evan Mitchell is banned from entering the Main Palace!”
What was that supposed to mean? I demanded to know why I couldn’t visit where Cecilia lived, and Mark Three gave me a strange look. I knew that expression—it was the same one our Information Chief made when she blamed me for everything.
“You didn’t attend the coronation.”
“What?”
“His Majesty waited so long for you.”
“Um…what?”
Why was the coronation held in secret without my knowledge? When I asked incredulously, they said the coronation date had been announced a week prior, but when they went to the Academy to fetch me, they were told I was absent for dungeon training.
“You held the coronation while I was running dungeons?”
“A coronation only happens once in a lifetime. You could have postponed the dungeon training.”
“No one told me when it was happening!”
“We sent all the details by letter according to protocol. Did you check your mailbox?”
Who checks the Academy dormitory mailbox, for heaven’s sake! Why didn’t you send it to the Neftis Townhouse instead? Then Rael would have seen it and told me!
“I need to see Cecilia. I’ll apologize in person.”
“But you’re banned from the Main Palace.”
She was clearly upset. But there was a loophole. White One was with Cecilia now, so I asked for permission to visit just to bring White One back. The Starving Child blocked me as if reading my strategy.
It seemed Cecilia had put him up to this.
“Given your irresponsibility, Evan Mitchell, His Majesty has decided to raise White One himself. Please return home.”
Damn it, my schemes are completely transparent to her, aren’t they?
I say one thing, she blocks it. I try another approach, she shuts it down decisively. As if Cecilia had written her a manual on how to counter my every move, the Starving Child kept refuting me, and I couldn’t help but lose my temper.
“Does this woman really not want to see me at all?!”
“Then you should have come to the coronation!”
“Cecilia didn’t come to my wedding either!”
“That’s completely different! The weight they carry in life is different!”
That’s… Fine! I admit it! But shouldn’t I at least get a chance to explain myself?!
“Ugh.”
Cecilia is the worst. I don’t understand people like you either, you abyss scum. I cursed out the Starving Child, calling her the abyss scum just like her master, then conjured ice wings and flew off in a huff. I changed my schedule—instead of going to curse out Bruno, I decided to go curse out Cecilia to the Duke instead.

“Evan Mitchell, ma’am. My master is currently afflicted with a fit, so I would advise against provoking him.”
As I stepped into the Zibenstein Townhouse, Butler Grandfather greeted me. But why is he afflicted here too? When I asked the reason, Grandfather sighed deeply and explained his master’s affliction in detail.
“He’s having a fashion show, choosing what to wear for a date.”
“Good grief.”
Everyone everywhere is afflicted with something. But unlike Cecilia’s Palace, I can enter this place freely. Fashion show or not, I’ll ruin it all.
I marched confidently into the Living Room with Butler Grandfather in tow. There stood a row of mannequins like something from a horror film, piles of clothes everywhere, and I could spot exhausted servants and the Department Head Professor reacting to it all.
“Evan. Have they conscripted you too?”
“No. I came of my own accord.”
“You should escape while you still can.”
You look very tired, Professor. What exactly does a friend mean to Ilyong?
“Ta-da! How is it! This time I went for something more open! Warm tones really suit me, don’t they?!”
This truly can only be described as an affliction. Bruno appeared wearing a gaudy Hawaiian shirt, and had even replaced his monocle lens with black glass. What’s the point of that? If you’re wearing glasses because the light is blinding, wouldn’t it be better to cover both eyes anyway?
“Legendary Frozen Blades.”
“Kyaaaaaaaa!”
I pulled out my ice mixer and shredded the mannequins and clothes to bits. Bruno screamed, while the servants and Common Professor cheered. When Bruno protested about what I was doing, I gave him some common sense.
“If you’re going on a date with Mother, dress neatly. You’re not a thug—what is this?”
“Oh, Eleanor likes neat clothes?”
“I’m speaking from a basic common sense perspective. Who goes on a first date wearing some ridiculous, flashy Hawaiian shirt? You’re insane.”
The servants and Professor even started whistling. They must have suffered quite a bit.
“If it’s neat, then… a tailcoat? Would a tailcoat work?”
“Grandfather, does he have a collection of books he’s written somewhere?”
“This way, if you please.”
“My dear daughter! Answer me! Would a tailcoat work for the date?!”
“I’m not your daughter. And if you go on a date in a tailcoat, the moment Mother sees you, she’ll be so embarrassed she’ll run home.”
“Aww♥ Why is this so complicated!”
I was reluctant about having to ask that idiot for anything, but this worked out perfectly. I could coach him on what to wear in exchange for him telling me old stories.
I selected a few books from the study that the Professor of Social Movement would likely enjoy, then returned to where the fashion show was happening and arrogantly lifted my chin.
“My A+ grade depends on this. If you want advice, you’d better come clean about your past.”
“Aw! My dear daughter! Is Dad the one you’re curious about?!”
“If you’re going to talk nonsense, I’m going home.”
I had obtained the books I needed, so I could always hear the details from the Department Head Professor later. As I tried to stride out of the house, Bruno clung to my leg and whined. He insisted I have a cup of tea before leaving, but looking at your face would ruin the taste, so I politely declined.
“Grandfather Butler! Grandfather Butler, tell him to stop! He keeps trying to leave!”
“Well… isn’t this simply reaping what one has sown…?”
“Common Professor! Ilyong, Common Professor! You’re my friend—do something!”
“Bring peach juice instead of tea.”
Hmph. I suppose I can drink some juice before I go.
“Why is he falling for peach juice? Does he have some kind of character concept obsessed with peaches too?”
In truth, I needed to stay and hear the discussion anyway—I simply required an excuse. It was a realm of sophisticated rhetoric that someone like Bruno had no need to understand.
Following Grandfather Butler’s guidance, I moved to the reception room and sipped the peach juice through a straw. Once the madness of the fashion show had subsided and Bruno had regained his composure, I relayed the Professor of Social Movement’s requirements to him. The man let out an awkward laugh.
“So there are still people interested in this sort of thing these days?”
“You sowed all those seeds yourself.”
“Alas! This is why one must live earnestly in their youth!”
His manner of speech displeased me, but the man had a point. Because he had strutted about so boldly in his younger days, groups studying his work had emerged, and even a lecture on social movements had been created.
“In any case, to explain the relationship between folk songs and social movements, it might be better to show them once rather than write it all out.”
“Exactly! Teenagers and people in their twenties are at just the right age for their blood to boil at such songs!”
Judging by the newspaper clippings he had collected, even the professor in his forties would have his blood stirred, but the Department Head Professor’s opinion held merit. No matter how much one explained the relationship, nothing would resonate more than hearing and experiencing it firsthand.
“Wait, wait, wait! I have a song I composed back in the day—if we rearrange it in a modern style, it should work perfectly!”
After planning a performance for the lecture hall, Bruno departed excitedly to search for the sheet music. Once the man disappeared from view, the Common Professor relaxed his shoulders as if somewhat weary and took a sip of tea.
“Are you alright, Professor?”
“Hmm? What do you mean?”
“All of it—the way he carries on about meeting women, how he drags you around here and there, all his actions.”
The professor had been enlisted in the flower-scattering operation and dragged to the fashion show as well. No matter how close friends they are, being manipulated so carelessly would wear anyone’s patience thin.

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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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