How to Survive as the Second Son of a Mage Family - Chapter 367

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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“….”

 

Ishmailov showed even less reaction than Haike. He didn’t look shocked by my words or give me a look asking who I thought I was. With his mouth firmly shut and his eyebrows gently tilted forward, he simply looked at me.

 

“Did I guess wrong?”

 

I asked with a smile, and only then did Ishmailov lower his eyes. I looked at the red light pulsing beneath his gloves.

 

“The warning sound is quite loud. Your heart rate keeps exceeding the baseline causing this to happen continuously—doesn’t that make you think anything?”

 

“….”

 

“Well, like feeling flustered, or thinking it’s unreasonable that you have to use such artifacts in the first place, or wanting to avoid the situation, or feeling burdened by my seniors constantly visiting… Honestly speaking, isn’t it somewhat annoying from your perspective that I’m talking to you like this?”

 

Is that all? Let’s go back to something more fundamental and reconsider what being an Envoy of the Covenant means. It means this person holds a position equivalent to the leader of a cult. In such a position, one should be able to live luxuriously for life, and at least as long as he’s treated as a ‘prophet’ as they say, he should normally be able to live honorably. Yet he was handed over alone to the Empire by Pleroma’s leadership, had his magic restricted, was forced to transmit all his real-time status to the Imperial Government, and became unable to leave this room alone. How is this treatment befitting someone of cult leader status? Even if the Imperial Government has no choice but to be wary of him, shouldn’t Pleroma at least ensure that the person they call their ‘Envoy of the Covenant’ doesn’t receive such treatment?

 

Every clue indicated that only Pleroma leadership’s will, not his own, was reflected in the entire process of handling Ishmailov. All of this is unreasonable. And this itself becomes additional information for us.

 

I smiled and raised my eyebrows for Ishmailov, who still wouldn’t meet my eyes.

 

“Honestly, I’m not sure what you were expecting to make your heart rate spike so wildly. The only hypothesis I can think of is that you’re experiencing this kind of situation for the first time. For example, making friends your age for the first time, or rather, forget making friends—even having a simple conversation for the first time, or leaving the adults who monitor you to have a meal on the surface for the first time, or getting a book you chose yourself for the first time…”

 

I trailed off and closed my mouth. Now Ishmailov was looking at me again, but I couldn’t do the same. I cast a meaningless gaze at the intricate weave of the carpet.

 

“Actually, even if that’s true, I still have no idea why you reacted that way the first time when I approached you… Obviously you were flustered because you didn’t expect me to come so close to your face, but exactly why? Is that really so surprising?”

 

“….”

 

“I happened to recall hearing about you dealing with a rampage, so I put the thoughts together. Do you have a history where anything dies when you reach out your hand? Or were you simply flustered because it was your first time seeing a peer up close?”

 

Either way, it’s insane. Even as I spoke these words, they felt completely unreal, so I had to suppress the urge to laugh off the awkwardness. Right now, I needed to be more truthful than ever. Even if the other person was an enemy, this was the choice that avoided committing unnecessary sins.

 

Naturally, he answered with his eyes rather than words. He just stared at me intently. Since I had no way to interpret that meaning, I accepted his gaze and returned to the main topic.

 

“What did you want me to do for you?”

 

“….”

 

The first alarm aside, after experiencing the second and third, I understand well.

 

Expectation. About what? This too is an expectation that would seem trivial by most people’s standards. He was happy that a peer who was supposed to play with him—monitor him—had come to visit, and he expected to spend time together again somehow. I hope my guess is wrong. If this is true, it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, regardless of my personal feelings about the person.

 

“I had no choice but to conclude that you might want to become friends with me. I don’t know why you took a liking to me specifically. I have hypotheses, but they’re still just guesses and nothing is certain. However, since that one thing you said about liking me is clear, I dare to assert that you would want to become friends with me.”

 

Now I understand how much courage it took to say what he said in the interrogation room yesterday. And why he showed a hesitant reaction to my words for the first time before saying those words. Having never had the opportunity to express his thoughts, he probably couldn’t properly judge when to speak up or whether those words were appropriate to share with an enemy. I clasped my hands together and spoke.

 

“Even so, as I said before, I cannot be friends with Pleroma.”

 

The truth of my statement doesn’t matter. I said nothing more, and dozens of seconds passed in that state. Ishmailov’s eyes were calm. The signal from the heart rate monitoring artifact began to speed up. I now looked at the artifact glowing at his neck as well. I had to see firsthand how many magic control techniques were applied to his body at the hospital, but I wondered if his magic might explode at this rate. I smiled upon hearing an answer clearer than any other response.

 

“But if it’s not Pleroma, that would be different.”

 

CRASH— CLANG—!

 

I deflected the fragments of the sound-blocking magic and moved my body to the side. Leo, who had broken through the sound-blocking magic, looked at Ishmailov with a rigidly hardened face.

 

“What kind of conversation were you having to make his heart rate like this?”

 

The rapidly accelerating signal must have been caught. Mecklenburg was crossing his arms, simply watching how we were conducting ourselves, and Albertina Hohenzollern was also waiting calmly. Narke, already knowing that Ishmailov wanted to become friends with me, was just waiting with a cold expression. Elias and Leo’s expressions were the most confused here. Leo approached me, pressing his temple as if he had a headache.

 

“My thinking was short-sighted. Let’s go back. If I had known it would be like this…”

 

“It’s fine. This is just the beginning.”

 

I said, looking straight at him. Leo frowned as if to say something, then closed his mouth and looked down at me. I reassured him with a glance and cast the sound-blocking magic again.

 

“You are one who prepares Pleroma’s salvation. Your very existence inspires Pleroma and prophesies their victory. For now.”

 

“….”

 

“We cannot trust you. Pleroma is wrong, and we cannot support you who gives strength to such an organization. It’s from these concerns that I decided I cannot be friends with you. So.”

 

I continued, looking into Ishmailov’s artificially blue eyes.

 

“If you still want to become friends with me even after hearing that you must cease to be Pleroma, please answer. What is Pleroma to you?”

 

“….”

 

Ishmailov’s pale lips showed no intention of moving and remained closed. It was the same even after a long while. Only the wind blowing from the balcony facing the lake garden made the muslin curtains flutter. Only such quietness could be heard.

 

Indeed, it was difficult to get him to open his mouth on such a topic. Or perhaps he couldn’t accept the idea of ceasing to be Pleroma, or he had no answer because he hadn’t made any judgment about Pleroma, or even if he had one, he wouldn’t say it for fear of earning my disapproval…

 

“Home.”

 

“….”

 

I slowly raised my gaze to look into Ishmailov’s eyes. There wasn’t the slightest waver in those eyes. I opened my mouth and looked at him, then smiled. It would be quite troublesome if others heard this answer.

 

“Good.”

 

The important thing isn’t that it’s home. What truly mattered was that he hinted it would be okay for Pleroma to cease being Pleroma. Either way, he doesn’t think he must pledge loyalty to Pleroma. Whether this scene was staged or occurred naturally remains to be seen.

 

“I like that you answered honestly. If you had given an answer tailored to our tastes here, I would have been disappointed. Though you don’t seem like the type to do that anyway.”

 

I finished speaking while looking down at the bundle of materials Leo had investigated.

 

From now on, there’s something I need to be careful about in conversations with him. If I express myself wrongly, my words could easily be misunderstood as a paternalistic proposal: ‘If you answer my questions, I’ll be your friend.’

 

I must be clear. I’m not playing with him because he answered. I’m not magnanimously deciding to be his friend once because he answered. I didn’t want to sell my emotions for information, nor did I want to make light of the weight hanging on one person’s heartbeat. Emotions are not tradeable. He too must know and feel this. If we continue fastening buttons after fastening the first button wrong, he too will inevitably feel that it’s a relationship built fundamentally wrong somewhere. Who could predict what results would follow from that? Immediate easy sweet talk is precisely a short-sighted choice. It becomes the fastest decision to collapse infinite possibilities with my own hands. Now that it’s come to this, melting everything into a truthful relationship is the best course.

 

“Can you give me certainty?”

 

“….”

 

“I don’t think you can break away from Pleroma in one stroke. After all, I know your fate is currently tightly bound to them and can’t be easily dismantled by anyone’s power. Whether you became Pleroma by your own will or others’ will. So now I want to go back to something more fundamental and gain certainty.”

 

Ishmailov blinked. Looking into those eyes, I chose my words once more. Can I trust you? This question is meaningless. This person doesn’t even have the luxury of trusting himself. There’s a high probability he doesn’t even know what trust means. Whatever answer he gives, since the judgment of truth and verification depends on me, no matter what question I ask, my effort will be required equally. At this moment, I must use the most basic and direct way of speaking that he too can understand. Even if it’s a question he could easily fabricate an answer to.

 

“Do you have any intention of harming us?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Even though I asked a question that would naturally only get a ‘no’ from anyone, to hear such an answer—I can picture the reason. I shook my head and asked once more.

 

“I want an answer from your heart right now, not unpredictable possibilities that might occur due to the leadership or other adults’ will. Don’t you even know which way your true feelings lean? I’ll ask again. If you truly don’t know this time either, say you don’t know. Do you want to deal with me and those people according to Pleroma’s will?”

 

Ishmailov slowly closed and opened his eyes as if weighing the meaning of the words. He looked around at the mages standing at the far end of the room, starting with me. The end of that gaze was me again. After staring at my face for a long while and blinking, he answered calmly.

 

“No.”

 

“….”

 

Good. Whether this too is a staged scene or sincere is something I must now discover, but he now has a will he shares with me. I suspect he’s not really the type for strategic thinking, but whether he has dark intentions or not, his current resolve becomes the source that will drive him while I’m in charge of him. To summarize in one word: since goals and the future have taken on a clearer shape, he now has incentive to converse with me more sincerely.

 

Now, for safety, let me check one last thing. Since I didn’t want to confirm a person’s heart with numbers—that is, I didn’t open it earlier for fear it might interfere with having a sincere conversation—but given who the other party is, there’s a need to check. I took a deep breath and opened his affection window.

 

“….”

 

The moment I faced the number written there, I was at a loss for words. What I should do was momentarily pushed out of my mind. I don’t know how many minutes passed. Having stared blankly only at the glowing number, I slowly shifted focus to the eyes behind it.

 

“…Alright. Shall we go for a walk?”

 

* * *

 

“You’re out of your mind.”

 

“You say this to me a lot.”

 

I turned away from Leo, who approached as if to grab my collar, and let out a hollow laugh. Then I felt a chill on my back. I glanced at the balcony railing against my back and the lawn below, confirming I was in a desperate situation. Meanwhile, Leo didn’t yield at all and tilted his head with a sneer.

 

“A walk? With a Pleroma who shows abnormal reactions to you?”

 

Hmm. I have no particular intention of defending Ishmailov. I don’t know him well yet anyway, and I’m in a situation where I need to get to know him, so I have neither material nor motivation to defend him. But before I could open my mouth to say anything, Leo pressed me once more.

 

“That person might not simply want to be friends with you. It’s obviously strange.”

 

“Well, isn’t he also from Haike’s department? Why go that far again…”

 

When Elias behind us threw in a comment, Leo whipped his head around.

 

“Are you going to take Pleroma’s side?”

 

“No, I don’t like that guy either, but we haven’t even had a proper conversation yet and don’t know how he was raised, so I don’t want to speak carelessly. But… ah, no, the alarm sound was pretty intense~”

 

Elias grinned and waved his hand dismissively, meaning go ahead and do what you were doing. He pushed Leo’s back, even providing the last lifeline. I quickly signaled Elias for help with my eyes, but he just kept drinking from the beer glass he’d brought without putting it down. Seeing Leo’s cold face returning to me, I honestly admitted.

 

“That’s your judgment. Actually, I somewhat agree too.”

 

At that answer, Leo began grabbing his neck and looking at the sky. The one to collapse first might not be me, who put all my weight on the railing, but Leo with his rising blood pressure. I immediately added an explanation.

 

“Even so, it’s not in the direction you’re all worried about. No matter how I look at it, I’m right about this.”

 

“Are you kidding? How can you be certain?”

 

How can I be certain, you ask me—someone who’s been filming nothing but romance until coming here? I would be the first to identify such signals, having had to implement phantom emotions realistically without any sense of incongruity. Moreover, even setting work aside, I’d have more experience than you in any area. I think we had a similar conversation last year too…

 

“….”

 

I caught a glimpse of Leo’s characteristic expression—the one he makes when looking at someone talking nonsense—and sighed.

 

Whatever the case, my thinking changed somewhat after checking the affection level. Though Ishmailov was bound to show reactions similar to Haike’s, there’s a clear difference. The affection level I had read and stored in memory when I first met him yesterday and the affection level I read during today’s conversation showed a difference of heaven and earth proportions.

 

To simply say it’s because he ‘wants to be friends’ would be too extreme a change, even more pronounced than what I saw with Haike. And we hadn’t even entered into full conversation yet. Seeing how this system showed me the affection popup sparingly, I think it held back out of concern I might be shocked. A correct judgment. I was more shocked than when seeing any other affection level.

 

‘I know I shouldn’t rely too much on Haike’s case.’

 

Though it’s a similar vein, he’s a different person, so his reactions are bound to be different too. It’s just that Ishmailov might have been seriously isolated, so even a brief conversation to confirm sincerity could have made a deep impression. However, no matter how I think about it, it wasn’t a normal rate of increase, so it’s safer to establish hypotheses. And my hypothesis doesn’t include any of the possibilities that Leo and Elias worry about, or that Mecklenburg brought up teasingly.

 

What made his affection level rise so rapidly? I must accurately find this out from now on, preparing for any future.

 

“If you’re that worried… even if that were the case, would that be something to worry about? If it really comes to that, let’s ask Narke what Ishmailov thinks of me. She might be able to answer at least that much.”

 

Leo didn’t answer and maintained his sullen expression. This won’t do. I gave a more realistic reason. Actually, this occupied half the share of reasons driving me to action.

 

“I can’t leave Ishmailov with the mages who stood guard earlier all day. They’ll eventually be called by the government to report on today’s events too. And you need to ask about what you investigated, don’t you?”

 

If Ascanien locks Ishmailov in a room and only meets him briefly before disappearing… this becomes sufficient grounds for censure. Therefore, whether I have tea time with him, play around, read books, or whatever we do—even if we practice silent meditation—I need to keep him with me for a long time.

 

Leo maintained a sullen expression before asking in a resigned voice.

 

“Why did you make that expression at the end?”

 

“At the end?”

 

“You were frozen for quite a while.”

 

He seems to mean when I checked the affection level. I shook my head.

 

“Just. It was actually included in what I was going to tell you guys anyway, but now it’s fine… Well then, since we need to confirm what you mentioned, let’s go call Narke.”

 

“Fine. You must have your reasons for thinking that way.”

 

Hm? What’s gotten into this guy? Just as I was about to pat his shoulder saying he thought well, Leo snorted with an expression that said to drop it.

 

“Honestly, I can’t trust you this time.”

 

“….”

 

* * *

 

This bastard is the only one who talks to me like that.

 

Is it okay for an Esper royal high school student to say such things to a Human in his twenties? I think it’s ridiculous.

 

‘…I’m enduring it because I’m in an Esper high school student’s body.’

 

“Going on a picnic with Pleroma at dawn sounds fun.”

 

Elias started picking on Ishmailov from behind. Me, Elias, Leo, Narke, plus Mecklenburg and Ishmailov—we were strolling through Nymphenburg Palace. I didn’t want to call Senior to this gathering, but I had no choice but to bring someone easy to deal with in case we needed to prepare for another situation where reports would be filed due to heart attacks. Perhaps because he was half-forcibly dragged along, Mecklenburg didn’t look too pleased either.

 

Anyway, we would find a suitable spot by the lake to spread out and sit. Narke smiled at Elias’s words. I turned my head toward Elias and said.

 

“I told you there was no need to come, yet you followed. Senior Mecklenburg and Narke are enough.”

 

“That’s exactly why I had to come. People naturally want to do the opposite of what they’re told.”

 

Elias laughed as he slung his bag over his shoulder. For some reason, there was a sound of glass clinking together. When Leo and I simultaneously frowned, Elias waved his hand dismissively, telling us to watch where we were going.

 

After walking in silence for a while, we reached the lake. Now even coming out to the lake at night, the air was somewhat warm. Looking at the dark ripples, I casually struck up conversation with Ishmailov to lighten the mood.

 

“Have you ever been fishing?”

 

“No.”

 

Everyone exchanged glances. This guy could actually answer such trivial questions? I spoke without showing my surprise.

 

“I see. That’s a shame since it’s fun. Try it sometime if you get a chance to go to a river.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Ishmailov began answering diligently. Elias widened his eyes and gave me a meaningful look. I found it curious too.

 

We sat down in a suitable spot, though the atmosphere wasn’t quite right. Mecklenburg, despite having rolled around in dirt countless times as a Royal Mage, now seemed reluctant to sit on the lawn, wearing a displeased expression.

 

‘I can never figure this guy out either.’

 

Ignoring him asking if there was nothing to sit on, I chatted with Ishmailov about trivial matters for a while before gradually bringing up important questions.

 

“I have something I’m curious about.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You called Pleroma your hometown.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Though he only repeated “yes” and “no” like an answering machine, even this was tremendous progress. Anyway, let me think again. This guy is older than Pleroma, which has existed for 13 years. At first, I wondered if Pleroma had combined magic to create a new human, but… the age doesn’t match, and manufacturing humans is only possible through the Imperial Government. This technology is as thoroughly managed in this country as the Emperor’s safety, and if Pleroma had stolen this technology, they wouldn’t have bothered kidnapping Empire children but would have made their own people to use as blood material.

 

Just looking at Ishmailov’s age and Pleroma’s duration of existence, it’s clear that Pleroma picked up someone else’s child who already existed in the world and made him like this. To interpret his claim of being brothers with Gabrielle as a blood relationship is questionable since the two are visibly from different ethnicities. Moreover, if Pleroma gave him the name Mikhail, wouldn’t that mean their common ground was established later?

 

But this guy seems to have spent quite a long time in Pleroma. His reactions, as if experiencing everything for the first time, are evidence of this. Did Pleroma tamper with his mind? How? From what I can see, even Narke wouldn’t easily do such a thing.

 

“How did you live before entering Pleroma?”

 

“….”

 

As expected, there’s no answer when I ask heavy questions. I might need to ask several more times. As the silence continued, Elias suddenly spoke up.

 

“He’s around our age too, right.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Since when has he been watching to already call him “he”… I glanced at Ishmailov and was relieved to see him showing no reaction, just staring at ants on the lawn. However, my relief didn’t last long. There was a sound of glass being taken out, then Elias pulled out a beer mug and slammed it down on the ground. Leo and Mecklenburg’s jaws dropped.

 

“Hey, you…?!”

 

Elias gulped down the beer and then pulled out other glasses from his bag in succession. I could see Narke wearing a soulless smile.

 

“It’s just that he’s not talking because we’re not close yet. Right? This is perfect for getting close to kids.”

 

“What are you talking about?! Your purpose isn’t to get close… Never mind. Don’t you know that even though he’s from Pleroma, since he came through negotiation, we must ensure minimum safety?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Elias halfheartedly appeased Leo. Mecklenburg looked back and forth between us in shock as if looking at madmen, then fell into deep thought alone before nodding with a face of realization. I firmly grabbed his shoulder and cast a sound-blocking spell.

 

“What exactly are you understanding, Senior?”

 

“Lord Mecklenburg seems to know something.”

 

Though he didn’t break the sound-blocking spell, he seemed to have guessed my actions from my behavior. Elias grinned and offered a glass to Ishmailov. Ishmailov just silently looked back and forth between it and Elias.

 

“Let’s see how well Pleroma Jesus can drink.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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