How to Survive as the Second Son of a Mage Family - Chapter 384

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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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“What are you doing? Like a little rat, in my room.”

 

“….”

 

Turning a crisis into an opportunity is always a rewarding endeavor.

 

What was the last sound I heard before this? Just the thud of a hand grabbing my shoulder. I slowly turned around and looked at Helga Brandt’s expressionless face, raising the corners of my mouth in satisfaction.

 

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

 

“You’re rifling through the bookshelf in my room. I’ve always been proud of inheriting German blood from my father, but to discover that a German I’m meeting after so long has kleptomania… my disappointment is beyond measure.”

 

“Kleptomania, you say? And disappointment?”

 

I loudly placed the file back on the bookshelf and took a step closer to him. His brown bangs touched my forehead. Even after standing there like a madman for quite a while, he stared straight at me like a beast, never once closing his eyes. I watched his pupils dilate and opened my mouth dryly.

 

“I’m sorry it was your room. Honestly, I didn’t know exactly where this was.”

 

“Then how did you get in?”

 

“How do you think I got in?”

 

When I answered his question with a question, he slowly moved his gaze around my face. Ignoring his observation, I raised my eyebrows and said.

 

“Take a guess.”

 

“You must have moved the candlestick in the room to enter.”

 

Helga Brandt said with a soulless expression.

 

Let me think about this. How did I get from the vigilante headquarters building to this office?

 

This isn’t a room you ‘enter through a door.’ The pitch-black wooden door stuck between the marble like darkness has never been opened. In other words, I wasn’t given time to hide or escape, and since I used the same method the Pleromas had hidden when crossing from the vigilante headquarters building to here, it was quite naturally clear that the other party would also likely enter this way with high probability, and therefore anyone could have predicted in advance that I wouldn’t have time to flee if variables occurred. Even if it had been Mecklenburg instead of me, he would have thought the same.

 

And that means this—my lines are prepared.

 

“Correct. It really worked.”

 

“….”

 

Having found something questionable in my words, Helga Brandt’s reddish-brown eyes flashed as he stared only at my pupils. I need to catch this opponent’s emotions now. I considered lightly stroking the ends of his hair like I did with Ludovica, but realized his hair was too short for that and just meaninglessly fidgeted with my jacket lapel. One might wonder what I was doing to my own clothes, but Helga Brandt’s gaze remained on my eyes, and the muscles around his eyelids gradually tensed. Good. He was focusing more on my earlier words than my actions. With a face that looked ready to deal with me somehow if something went wrong. I whispered, raising my intonation.

 

“I came here wanting to know about you, but for the atmosphere to turn out like this—the situation isn’t very good, is it?”

 

“Explain what you meant by ‘it really worked.'”

 

“Is that the problem? Shall I teach you?”

 

“If you don’t explain the circumstances, you’ll be expelled from this place.”

 

Expelled. I need to handle my gaze according to his wishes. I looked at the shining vigilante badge on his jacket, and seeing my gaze move there, he brought up a different topic.

 

“How novel. I never knew there were people who get drunk from a few glasses of kvass.”

 

No? You knew that.

 

At parties thrown by noble Espers, they don’t serve drinks like kvass that commoners mainly drink. Having kvass at this gathering is no different from serving homemade cider from the Residential Area at a noble banquet. Of course, not all nobles are wealthy, and especially nobles at the level of running vigilante groups wouldn’t have the wealth of great magnates, so it’s too early to conclude.

 

But decisively, there was champagne at this gathering. Not Russian sparkling wine, but champagne. French wine imported from Champagne. Those who brought wine imported from French Champagne had no reason to also serve kvass that might have been made directly in the Residential Area.

 

What does this mean?

 

“Drunk? I’m perfectly fine.”

 

“Seeing that you made it all the way here, you’re not.”

 

“That might be true too… but I was… just trying it out. Of course, I didn’t know you’d be this upset about it, so I’m sorry.”

 

“….”

 

“To explain further, I did it because I wanted to know who you are.”

 

Furthermore, I say again. Helga Brandt wanted me to get drunk, and thereby hoped I would inadvertently reveal what I knew. Whether by looking around suspiciously, secretly disappearing somewhere to rummage through the house, or showing any reaction that could be a clue when he struck up conversations and led discussions.

 

In other words, he had been anticipating this very moment from when he wrote the invitation—the moment I would reveal my true nature, and I noticed Helga Brandt’s intention from when he invited us to the vigilante headquarters, and once again when I confirmed that the bubble-free, clear tea-colored kvass was served in goblets commonly used as water glasses. So Helga Brandt had been watching me from the moment he invited me.

 

Now then.

 

The fact that I know this is connected to what, as I thought earlier?

 

My response doesn’t require improvisation. Everything is flowing according to a pre-planned scheme. Even when he followed and chased me, grabbed my shoulder and asked what I was doing.

 

Helga Brandt stared at me without blinking once even while I blinked. Since the atmosphere had become strange enough to make me want to punch through a wall, instead of punching through a wall, I employed the topic-changing characteristic of drunk people.

 

“And when I asked if it was alcohol, you said it wasn’t.”

 

Common sense dictates that someone who doesn’t drink alcohol can’t walk around holding a glass without knowing what’s in it. Naturally, I asked the waiter whether this was alcohol or not before picking up the glass. Even though I spoke in a way that warranted asking again, Helga Brandt immediately understood what I meant.

 

“People in this region don’t treat such soft drinks as alcohol. They consider it about the same as cold tea for refreshment that even children can drink.”

 

“The children have strong alcohol tolerance. I also drank it thinking it was cold tea for refreshment. There were no water glasses either. Even though you already knew I don’t drink alcohol.”

 

“I’m sorry we didn’t provide water glasses. We Russians drink vodka like water, but we don’t drink water.”

 

“That sounds just like the nonsense that Germans drink beer like water. Oh, wait.”

 

His hand moved toward his holster. He quickly drew my wand, waved it in front of my eyes, then put the wand in his drawer and locked it. From my position where I expected anything from minimal mana restraints to sleeping drugs, I don’t know how to thank him for this treatment. I could only think that the best response was to narrow my eyes and smile while watching. Helga Brandt, who had taken out a cigar case from his desk, leaned against the bookshelf in front of me again.

 

‘I’ve been seeing a lot of guys smoking these lately.’

 

Seeing the cigar reminds me of Mecklenburg. I’m a bit worried about what that guy might be doing.

 

In the brief moment before Helga Brandt closed the lid, I confirmed that the cigar case contained five plump black cigarettes. Three with red bands, two with ordinary gold bands. Although the colors of the bands on the cigars were different, all five had the same shape and body color, appearing to be made by the same company.

 

Helga Brandt cut the end of the cigar with a cigar cutter and lit his torch. While he rolled the cut cigar in front of the flame and took several light puffs to light it, I watched his antics with boredom.

 

“Do you have a lot of time? When we first met you were smoking cigarettes, now you seem leisurely.”

 

“Cigars take some time to light. I don’t smoke them outside.”

 

Unlike before when he was full of laughter, Helga Brandt answered dryly.

 

Yes, it would take a long time. That’s why a certain Crown Prince I know has his Servant do it. I propped my chin, exhaled deeply, and looked around. There’s a priest’s robe hanging on the coat hanger. Surprisingly, it was an Orthodox priest’s robe, not Catholic. There are Catholics in Russia too, but it seems like he’s trying to blend in with the most popular religion in the region.

 

Thud—

 

As I began looking around the room, Helga Brandt loudly closed the silver torch lid. Having apparently finished lighting it, he offered it to me.

 

“And you’re right that I have leisure time now. Would you like some?”

 

Having leisure time. Good words. Everyone desires leisure.

 

And people tend to hide their deficiencies with opposite words and show off that opposite. I looked at Helga Brandt’s facial muscles that had become excessively soft all at once, remained silent for a moment, then shook my head.

 

“I said I don’t smoke.”

 

“Yet you drank kvass.”

 

“Shall I vomit it up?”

 

“No.”

 

He became serious and exhaled.

 

“‘It really worked.’ What does that mean? ‘Just trying it out’? Did someone tell you that moving the candlestick would make a room appear?”

 

Shall I continue the thought from earlier?

 

So I came here according to both his and my intentions, and we’re all acting. However, if there was something he couldn’t have expected, he might have anticipated that I would drunkenly and carelessly look around suspiciously or ask someone questions to gather information, but he never could have dreamed that I would figure out the location of his office in less than 5 minutes.

 

Naturally. This is something I learned from reality.

 

His impatience stems from here. When, where, and how did Emil Abel learn information about his office? Thinking about what must be behind his face, I opened my mouth.

 

“Honestly, I’m bewildered. Wasn’t it you, of all people, who created this situation?”

 

“….”

 

The atmosphere froze uncontrollably. Helga Brandt stared only at my eyes without even exhaling. He slowly tilted his head and exhaled slowly. Smoke entered my lungs. I looked at the cigar in his hand and evaluated.

 

“It’s strong.”

 

He didn’t answer but showed a sly smile, then grabbed my shoulder and stomped his foot.

 

Crash—

 

The room where I had moved the candlestick earlier appeared. We left the room and moved to the center of the 3rd floor staircase overlooking the hall, standing in front of the Railing. A Mage in uniform spotted Helga Brandt and quickly approached.

 

“Captain. Where have you been…?”

 

Helga Brandt firmly held out his hand. The Subordinate looked back and forth between me and Helga Brandt, then retreated with a flustered face. Helga Brandt flicked his hand to pull a glass from the wine tray on the 1st floor. Cigars, wine—he’s really enjoying everything there is to enjoy. I wasn’t unaware that this could be some kind of theatrical device or intentional diversionary behavior to reduce tension. Helga Brandt, unusually for someone raised in Russia, showed the smile he always wore and said to me.

 

“Tell me. Why do you say I created this situation?”

 

“Someone sent me anonymous letters. They were stuck in my window or door crack every day. Since they told me information that only the vigilante group would know, I naturally assumed it was something you ordered. I just learned it wasn’t, but I still find it hard to believe.”

 

Internal discord, and identifying related ability users within the Russian Pleroma Kaluga Center.

 

It’s a method to catch two rabbits.

 

And twenty-six. When we heard his age, which seemed young to be a regional vigilante Captain no matter how much ability takes priority, Mecklenburg and I showed surprised reactions. Since this isn’t a special group like the Catacombs, rather than bringing up Max Lichthofen’s case of being a Catacombs Vigilante Group vice-captain despite being a High School Student—that case had the tremendous credential of being an Imperial 2nd Education Institute student—it’s much more natural to apply the case of other ordinary regional vigilante groups. And the moment he saw our reaction, he showed a bitter expression for an instant. From this, I could tell that this group isn’t completely free from age considerations, or he himself considers his youth a hindrance to his career. Knowing deficiencies was useful when writing response scripts.

 

Helga Brandt shook his head and asked.

 

“Did they say there that moving my candlestick would let you learn about me?”

 

“Yes.”

 

I turned my head and continued.

 

“I was just curious that you smile at me so often, unlike someone who seems to have grown up in Russia.”

 

“….”

 

Whatever I said, his interest remained in the earlier letter story. Only testimony that had no physical evidence, that might be false. However, those who hold much and are always crushed by the weight of their name can never ignore this. Even hypochondriacs. It’s no different from urging someone to cross a pitch-black Swampland right before their eyes.

 

Helga Brandt still laughed heartily, unlike someone raised in Russia, then asked with a voice that retained a faint coolness, creating a gentle and wholesome expression.

 

“Could I see the original letter?”

 

“I was told to burn it immediately after reading, so I burned it.”

 

“….”

 

“But the sender had letterhead used by the vigilante group. It might be a forgery, but the reason I had no choice but to believe it is clear, isn’t it?”

 

After repeatedly rolling smoke in his mouth and exhaling for a while, Helga Brandt looked at me with a fierce smile.

 

“Good.”

 

“That’s good. Wasn’t that information I shouldn’t have been told? I can only apologize for recklessly acting according to what was written in the letter…”

 

“No, it’s not something that shouldn’t be told. Still, perhaps I might be among enemies.”

 

I could see he didn’t believe my words. Yet it was also clear that until ‘evidence that my words couldn’t be trusted’ appeared, he couldn’t be certain of his suspicions. Incompatible things were coexisting within him.

 

Now, there was simple information I could gather from this current verification process. I had wondered if perhaps only the leader Helga Brandt was Pleroma, but that wasn’t the case. At least two or all of the Vigilante Corps subordinates were real Pleroma.

 

From now on, Helga Brandt would strengthen her guard by moving the location of her study and such, and verify whether she could trust her subordinates. At the same time, if she had plans set up secretly from her subordinates or plans that would be difficult to achieve if insubordination occurred, she would try to handle those plans as quickly as possible.

 

‘Now, how will she act.’

 

For me, where time is gold, her decision would be very welcome. I was confident I could calmly accept whatever shocking words she might say.

 

Let me think about the ‘German’ in the letter. Looking at how he had approached me so far, and thinking of the ‘German’ in the letter, he wouldn’t want to separate from me. Yuri Alekseyev is Russian. The German refers to me and Mecklenburg, in other words Emil Abel and Clemens Schmidt. One of us, or both of us, is Declinatio. Even if I don’t yet know what that ‘declension’ is, the plan will flow without completely abandoning me, so I need to either listen to his words or dig into his true intentions.

 

‘I’d prefer if he just told me with words.’

 

I leaned against the railing and looked at his face. Helga Brandt felt my gaze and smiled gently as she spoke.

 

“Actually, I’m thinking of having a successor soon.”

 

“Isn’t that early? You’re only twenty-six.”

 

“I’m an adult.”

 

“Hmm, adult or not, you’d need to be at least in your forties for talk of having a successor to make sense.”

 

She’s an Esper. There’s absolutely no reason to follow the life timeline of Old Humanity, and in reality, having a successor at a hundred years old would be no problem. What Helga Brandt just said would only sound like crazy talk to other Espers.

 

‘Is she thinking of adopting Ishmailov.’

 

Or the other orphans from that file.

 

“There’s a reason I need to start deciding on a successor now.”

 

“The reason?”

 

Helga Brandt didn’t speak for a long time. Only after the bell chimed the hour a few minutes later did she finally open her mouth.

 

“I don’t understand the meaning of life.”

 

“…”

 

How sudden.

 

However, her acting wasn’t bad. I looked at her silently, and she only gazed at the massive clock on the headquarters building.

 

“So if there were someone I wanted to protect, it might be a little different.”

 

“You could just protect me.”

 

“Aren’t you too strong for that? Besides, you’ll return to Germany, won’t you?”

 

That was true, so I had nothing to say. I nodded. Helga Brandt let out a long breath and spoke calmly.

 

“Earlier you asked why I acted so un-Russian-like.”

 

“Yes. But why bring that up suddenly.”

 

Helga Brandt looked quietly into my eyes and spoke seriously.

 

“I want to create a person with half my mana and half your mana.”

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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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