Deadline Is Raining in the Status Window - Chapter 42

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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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“What do you mean by that?”
“No, Father. Please don’t listen to that bastard’s nonsense.”
“Your Majesty, Serpent King. Calm yourself and recall what you saw then. If Evan Laef hadn’t made excuses, it would have been nothing.”
“Hmm….”
Lakne’s words made sense. Evan Laef didn’t seem particularly flustered, and upon reflection, there was nothing suggestive between her and the long-haired woman.
“It was strange…, she was wearing an extra layer of clothing that covered her entire body. That’s why she seemed damp with sweat.”
“Exactly. There’s little reason to get wet indoors.”
“The woman with the prominent throat was closing her eyes and getting angry.”
“A male friend! A male friend for certain, Father!”
“That’s an impossible reaction if there were romantic feelings involved! Please calm your anger, Your Majesty!”
“…Is that so?”
One misstep here and they were all dead. Lakne and Hubert exchanged glances and decided to coordinate their story, with Hubert taking the lead in appeasing his father.
“When Evan Laef was undressed, a suggestive atmosphere was created. What would you have done, Father?”
“I would have made a respectful mating proposal.”
It was a hundred percent wrong answer, but both nodded along out of fear for their lives.
“Yes, that’s what Your Majesty would have done. How did the woman with the prominent throat react?”
“She went into her room and locked the door.”
“Exactly! That’s it! Evan Laef couldn’t stand the sight of his bare skin!”
“That’s a typical reaction from a male friend!”
What had started as a distraction to calm the Serpent King’s anger seemed to reveal that he had merely misunderstood. This was a genuine friend’s reaction. He had apparently considered what Evan Laef was wearing underneath as nothing more than an eyesore.
“…A male friend?”
“Yes! Friends can exist even between the opposite sex!”
“When Serpent Folk and humans call each other friends, why couldn’t members of the same species be friends?”
“Father, you visit the Machine King frequently!”
“Do you have romantic feelings for the Machine King, Your Majesty?”
“The Machine King may have a female form, but that’s not the case.”
“See! Father was jumping to conclusions!”
Having succeeded in steering the conversation, Hubert lightened the mood with easy banter. As Lakne and Hubert ganged up to suggest the Serpent King had simply misunderstood something trivial, he finally cooled down and withdrew the terrifying magical energy that had filled the room.
‘We’re alive…!’
The two Serpent Folk, relieved in their hearts, could even crack jokes now that the Serpent King’s demeanor had become considerably gentler.
“To get so angry over such a minor misunderstanding, it seems Your Majesty is quite fond of Evan Laef.”
“That’s what I said. It’s better to bring her here before anything bad happens.”
“That’s not it. Evan Laef probably has things she wants to learn at the Academy too. …I suppose I got too worked up.”
Right, you got terribly upset over something so trivial. The two swallowed words they couldn’t dare speak aloud and continued with brighter topics—that Evan Laef seemed to be doing well, and that they looked forward to seeing her during the break—but they were momentarily taken aback by the Serpent King’s characteristically blunt words.
“I should send Evan Laef some undergarments.”
“…Pardon?”
“Underwear, Your Majesty?”
“Hmm.”
The Serpent King nodded gravely and continued.
“She must lack the funds for proper cloth—the garment she wore was far too small in area.”
“….”
“….”
That was probably not the reason at all. As evidenced by his archaic choice of terminology, the Serpent King’s knowledge of women’s fashion had frozen five centuries in the past, creating a vast chasm between his understanding and modern reality.
He likely envisioned undergarments that covered the entire upper body. By such antiquated standards, Evan Laef’s palm-sized black undergarment seemed pitifully inadequate and heartbreakingly meager.
The small area was already distressing enough, but the black color only deepened his concern. Surely she had chosen dark hues to minimize discoloration from prolonged wear.
“Lakne.”
“Y-yes?”
“Prepare a gift of undergarments for Evan Laef. Make them very voluminous and white in color.”
“O-oh… um… yes.”
Whatever this was, it beat nearly dying moments ago. Lakne scurried down the floor on all eight legs, desperate to escape the situation.
“Father.”
“Speak.”
“We haven’t even made progress yet—wouldn’t it be rather embarrassing to give undergarments as a gift?”
“I gave her fabric as a gift before. She must have made clothes from it and worn them. What difference is there?”
“Well… yes.”
There’s no point—I know I can’t stop him anyway. I’ll just have to manage this myself.
Hubert suppressed an involuntary sigh and pondered how to explain this to Evan Laef. His father’s decision to send undergarments to his potential mother was already set in stone, and if Hubert didn’t package this tastefully, the entire relationship would be ruined. He was certain of it.
“At the very least, let me handle the design….”
“Approved.”
At least he had prevented his father from imposing fashion trends from five centuries past upon Evan Laef. Satisfied with this small victory, Hubert decided to head to Harbor Town in Ilam. He had no talent for undergarment design, but at the very least, he could purchase magazines and attempt to copy the latest fashions.
“Ah, and Father.”
“What is it?”
“Could I not be the one to deliver this gift?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“You are too young.”
“I’m one hundred and twenty years old.”
“Too young.”
“But Evan’s younger sibling, whom you sent on an errand, was only ninety?”
“That one was born in Serpent Village. You were raised only in the Tower.”
Hubert’s cheeks puffed out indignantly as he thought about escaping this household, while Gerth narrowed his brows, wondering if adolescence had finally arrived for the boy.
In any case, children do grow up remarkably fast.

◇ ◆ ◇

The assignment is me, and I am the assignment. Suddenly seized by a sense of unity between self and task, I moved my pencil with the mechanical motions of a soulless hand. Why was I, at this age, copying an etiquette manual for adults that circulated through society? The reason was simple—Professor Ha had assigned it to me.
I’d had too much fun yesterday, and now I was cramming all my assignments into today. The rest I could manage by copying Reina Letem’s work with slight variations, but transcription was pure drudgery that demanded time.
Reina Letem, who studied well despite her appearance and was genuinely diligent, had mocked me mercilessly before leaving, saying it would be easy if I just did five pages a day instead of trying to finish everything at once.
Ugh, that girl—with a face like a street urchin, why was she so serious about studying? Was it because the quality of education differed from childhood? Because she came from a Noble House? But I used to be from a prestigious noble family too, didn’t I? Though my common nickname was “mad dog.” Didn’t I receive some level of refined education?
“….”
I rummaged through my memories from the Mitchell era, but all I could recall were beating my siblings, beating servants, picking fights with strangers on the street, assaulting civil officials during my visits to the Imperial Palace, and wrestling a wild boar after entering an Uninhabited Island. I gave up reminiscing.
What kind of proper childhood memories did I even have? A plane I was riding crashed, I couldn’t sell a house with utility bills of two million won, and I had to work part-time jobs.
Ugh, this filthy life. Maybe I should just abandon the assignment altogether. This time there wasn’t even a time-limited condition hanging over my grades, and I could graduate from the Academy as long as I didn’t fail my classes and attended reasonably.
Thinking I’d take a walk with White One, I tapped the house, and White One blinked at me before slowly closing his nictitating membrane and swishing his tail down sharply.
We couldn’t communicate in words, but I understood perfectly that he was pressuring me to do my assignment.
“Forget it, I’ll just go grab late-night food with Kanna.”
I believed Kanna, at least, wasn’t a model student like Reina. She was probably tired from staying up all night working on her own backlog of assignments. I’d coax her into eating, and once she was full, we’d sleep together before both of us inevitably fall apart.
Humming cheerfully at the thought, I draped a thin cloak over myself when a familiar countdown appeared before my eyes. I wasn’t particularly pleased to see it.

The deadline has been updated. Upon Sera Crowell’s death, death. D-1.

What does that even mean? “Upon death, death”—what kind of nonsense is that? I could roughly understand it, but Sera Crowell was the protagonist of the original work. The protagonist doesn’t die. That’s because it’s a novel.
Given that author’s personality, I’d thought they’d kill off both Sera and Sunbird by the end, but at least Sera wasn’t supposed to die now. Come to think of it, something did happen around this time.
“Let me see, the calendar….”
The third weekend of May… Ah, that’s it? That was the Night Market arc I’d padded out nine, no, 9.5 out of ten times in the old serialization.
You know, the one where the Third Princess, raised only in the Imperial Palace, wanted to see what a Night Market looked like where commoners gathered, so she insisted on going out, and ended up buying skewered meat from a food stall—the kind where they don’t even tell you if it’s pork, beef, or lamb, just sizzling grilled skewers from a street vendor.
Then the protagonist would thoughtlessly hand over gold coins, and the vendor would say “Oh my, young lady, we don’t use such large denominations in a market like this,” leading to awkward banter, and then some passing thieves would notice and attack!
Story-wise, this is where the male lead would appear with a flourish to defeat the attackers, or alternatively, the female lead herself would be incredibly strong and swiftly dispatch the thugs, demonstrating just how cool and amazing this older sister is.
The Third Princess fell into the latter category. She understood currency values properly, so the attackers weren’t random thugs but had legitimate reasons, but regardless, the Third Princess defeated them using techniques covered by that copyright and protected Sunbird.
So what I’m trying to say is, the Third Princess won’t die even if I don’t do anything. I really should just go get that late-night food.

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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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