How to Survive as the Second Son of a Mage Family - Chapter 534

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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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How to Survive as the Second Son of a Magic Noble Family (534)

My heart was beating rapidly. With my neck bent, even swallowing saliva wasn’t easy. Ah, even though I had prepared myself, I couldn’t help but curse. If I had been free to move, I would have reflexively blown away their jaws, but no matter how much I tried to move my limbs, they wouldn’t budge against my will. The only part I could move was from above my knees to just below my hip joint—which was practically nothing. I don’t know anymore. There was some room above the belt around my solar plexus, so at least I could move my upper chest. But what good would moving do when my arms were twisted, especially when they were gripping my shoulders? They didn’t seem to care at all whether my shoulder blades broke or not. Just when all my senses seemed to fade away from the sound of my pulse.

“…!”

I felt a salty and fishy taste on my tongue. Cold blood flowed. My throat stung, perhaps from the strong mage’s magic power they had infused. They gripped my neck and prevented my head from going down. Their effort to prevent me from spitting it out was admirable. When I tried to close my mouth, the rod pressing down on my tongue applied more force. I reflexively jerked my head, but they gripped the sides of my ears and pressed down firmly. I felt like I was going to die soon. There was no particular reason, and maybe no reason was right, but swallowing liquid with a bent neck put too much strain on my lower facial muscles. In my desperate attempt to survive by forcing open my barely closed esophagus, the back of my head connected to my neck ached.

“Cough…!”

Ha, there was no exhaled breath, only endless inhalation. Both breath and air. When I twisted my shoulders as my lungs felt like they would burst, a brief respite came. The dripping blood decreased. My esophagus moved on its own. Unless I wanted to experience dying from my airway being blocked by vomit, I needed to think of something else to overcome this situation where my stomach was already churning. Other thoughts, well. I was curious about what state I’d be in if all my teeth turned red. I thought I’d look like a goblin. This attempt to redirect my thoughts was thus abandoned. The only thoughts that came were about how many people had participated in this interrogation, how many were surrounding the interrogation room I was in, and how the current situation was progressing—curiosity about the human dignity that would follow this rather unpleasant interrogation method, though I had already conceded one move since being mistaken for Pleroma, but separately, strategic patience that the lies I would prove through today’s process were a kind of honor recovery that would reap the bad reputation that follows truth, and again thoughts like how I had turned my tongue blue with blue candy a childhood friend gave me but had never turned my teeth blue—thoughts that didn’t deviate from the essence at all and were trivial, making me even more irritated. As my exhaled breath settled, they applied force to the hand gripping my jaw again. The unkind rod that wasn’t as skilled as a doctor and stabbed the uvula mucosa seemed to be blocking my airway instead. Or maybe it was just that blood was coming in too endlessly. Somehow knowing that my back was arched and strength was going into my legs, someone began stepping on and pressing down my thigh. The pain was dispersed. If I hadn’t had to constantly move my esophagus, I probably would have laughed at their behavior. It seemed like they were being too wary of me in this situation. Even so, if they had common sense, no one would harm interrogators during questioning, and yet after blocking it in every way possible themselves…

I don’t know how much time passed while my insides churned and twisted with chest pain. The 1cm wound was throbbing hotly. Even though I had hastily sealed it with healing magic, that was only on the surface—inside, it still hadn’t fully healed and caused discomfort whenever I twisted my body too much. I hadn’t intended to resist from the beginning, but now I was completely drained and could no longer attempt useless escapes to freedom while sitting. I mean I could no longer push my Adam’s apple forward to open my esophagus. Whether they knew my condition or had finished giving me everything, right around then the blood dripping onto my tongue decreased. The interrogator who had been prepared to break my jawbone all along slowly pressed down on my mandible with his gloved hand, pulled out the metal rod, and closed my mouth. Thankfully, he was kind, albeit belatedly. Helping me so I wouldn’t break my front teeth by closing my mouth too hastily…

“Ugh…”

Immediately I bent my body down as much as possible and left everything to my esophagus’s will. I felt like I knew where my stomach was. I kept retching until nothing more came out, and even when nothing came out, I just dry heaved. I pushed the blood remaining on my tongue with my palate and front teeth to let it drip, and irritably spat out saliva. Then I leaned back against the backrest and exhaled a long breath. I had been worried, but fortunately. I didn’t even need to act—it was so disgusting that any human would have reacted like me. I quietly celebrated inwardly and closed my eyes. I had opened and closed my eyes so much while resisting that my pressed eyelashes were crumpled and uncomfortable, but now such complaints were fine… I couldn’t see their faces, which was regrettable, but that only gave me strength to wait. The fact that I hadn’t gone berserk or shown abnormal reactions—this fact was enough to confuse them. Even though I had returned what I drank to the ground and had the leisure to cough for a while, they didn’t stop me. As if they hadn’t expected ‘my core’ to react this normally, or as if they intended to write an observation report, they were observing the entire scene without interference. I felt the dried blood around my mouth contracting my skin, and likewise felt the blood-stained glove touch my jaw again. Someone grabbed my cheek. Round two. What are they going to do with my open mouth—now it’s time to speak. My first attempt to put strength into my vocal cords only produced the sound of wind. I stopped breathing from below my belly and moved my breathing position to my chest area while moving my body away from their hands.

“Stop…”

It sounded like I had barely squeezed out hesitant words, but I wasn’t hesitating at all. Even though I heard with my ears a tone that I might or might not say, there was less disillusionment than expected. Putting on a poker face is my job after all. I wasn’t particularly surprised that the intended voice came out and breathed in and out through my mouth. The hands fell away. Instead of hearing voices, only the sound of fabric touching was heard. They were probably exchanging hand signals now. They would have asked those watching from outside about the plan…

What’s important to me is what comes next. How will they react now?

Having made their decision, I heard the sound of glass clinking from behind. They decided to make me drink blood once more. The same thing happened again. This time the taste of blood touching my tongue was different. It was definitely infused with someone else’s magic power. This time I resisted a bit more, and even before their hands fell away, I twisted my body and immediately vomited. Things other than blood came out of my mouth too.

“Stop, stop…”

This time there was some sincerity mixed in. Whether from stomach acid, my voice sounded different from what I knew. I dropped my head to the left and just opened and closed my mouth.

“Shouldn’t you understand by now?”

Someone placed their hand on my core and checked my magic power. When the warmth of a human hand touched me, my stomach churned once more.

“Ugh.”

Even though he was on the verge of being vomited on his own arm, this interrogation expert’s hand didn’t fall away. Rather, the hand gripping my jaw flinched. The interrogator reading my core was focused on detecting the core’s magic power. However, my magic power was circulating throughout my body just as it would in a typical shock situation. That was all. They wouldn’t find any problems beyond that. I dry heaved once more and spoke.

“What exactly is the problem… Is this how you look for evidence of collusion with Pleroma?”

Even though they were listening, no one answered. From a few to over ten people would be standing by in case of a rampage, yet none of them responded as if they hadn’t heard my voice. My throat was sore. My stomach no longer contained blood, but the instinctive displeasure of consuming something that wasn’t food continued to make me retch. Occasionally only stomach acid came up to my tongue. I hoped someone would wipe the blood that had flowed down my jaw. There was no such kindness, and I felt someone grab my twisted arm and give me an injection.

Not much time seemed to have passed. When I came to again, I was both more comfortable and more uncomfortable, because I was in water. It probably wasn’t water. I realized that a slightly smaller amount of diluted blood than what would be used for a half-bath was covering my entire legs. Seeing their determination not to move on without being thorough, this wasn’t the Prussia I knew. The tendency to become more thorough than usual when cornered was befitting of the foremost nation that achieved the great undertaking of German unification. I suppose I’m being sarcastic… They were anxious and regarded this moment as their last chance. Whether they would catch evidence that I wasn’t Pleroma or evidence that I was Pleroma, they had to be thorough in verification either way. Even so, did they have to conduct such unconventional interrogation that if some crazy person who bathed in others’ blood to stay young saw today’s scene, they would feel wronged about why they were criticized, did they believe they had to do this…

I checked if there was anything around my mouth. There wasn’t. Their goal would be to stop feeding me and now keep me in an environment made of blood. Even so, what would come of it? There is something. Normally, my magic power would have reacted greatly to this blood. I wonder if I should praise them for using their heads a bit.

If that’s their plan, then by the time I leave here, I’ll be able to see how they realized what Leonard and I had prepared in advance, and I’ll be able to meet Julia and Ulrike too. Elias too, and Narke. I won’t bother thinking about what kind of faces they’ll make to me. I want to do that. Right now. Even if I received their comfort, I was a bit tired thinking about burdening them with worries. You can be confident and tired at the same time. Smelling the fishy odor continuously made my stomach queasy. Every time someone else’s magic power brushed against my body on the water’s surface, my skin stung. Being trapped in a bathtub reeking of blood was difficult. Why not just get up and leave—I don’t know who might be pointing a gun at me, and above all, I’m truly trapped again this time.

“How long do I have to stay here?”

I asked while gripping the thin glass bathtub frame. When I moved my body, the blood that had been hardening before fell away from the surface unpleasantly.

“I am enduring this interrogation to reassure you all as much as possible. Even if I am innocent, if I said I didn’t want to receive such interrogation, you clearly wouldn’t believe my innocence.”

[…]

“And now I seem to have endured enough to be satisfied.”

I heard the sound of a door opening. Someone who had received instructions came in, pulled back my shoulders, and checked my core. The reason their touch felt creepy wasn’t because I found them creepy. They were truly hesitating to touch me. The scene they were seeing with their eyes didn’t look very safe. They believed I could tear off my restraints at any time and get up to kill them. Setting aside that I had no such intention whatsoever, the image of taking a half-bath in blood was that terrible. It was obvious that humans throughout the Empire would perceive me in a similar state. My stomach wasn’t bitter. Someone sent magic power into my core to test it, then hesitantly removed their hand. The reason for their difficulty was naturally because my core showed no abnormalities whatsoever. This confirmed it. They had determined there must be something wrong with me before calling me here. One of the many possibilities and countermeasures we had conveyed to Bavaria in advance accurately predicted their behavior. Nothing surprising. Their thinking was in the palm of our hands.

[Count Ascanien.]

Seeing the courtesy of still calling me ‘Count’ in this situation, they have no intention of irritating me. They would naturally be focused solely on whether they could guarantee Prussia’s future and whether Prussia was innocent. However, being addressed with honorifics in this situation made me uncomfortable instead. Even in this situation, they still judged me as the Prince of Anhalt who deserved full courtesy. Yet they couldn’t escape from 19th-century mentality. However, historically speaking, humans wouldn’t hesitate to use state power against individuals until the end of the 20th century, or even into the 21st century, and compared to that history, this was sufficiently moderate. Normally I would have lamented this fact, but today not so much… When I first encountered a world where drinking blood could amplify abilities, I actually didn’t know it could lead this far, and even now I was overwhelmed just trying to hold onto my sanity because my stomach was turned. If I had known such a future awaited, I should have chosen books more carefully, considering even the worldview, but it was too late. Even knowing it wasn’t a problem that depended on my choice, my mind became confused and I had pointless thoughts. It was always like this, but today made it certain—no matter how creepy it was, there was no way to avoid it now…

I had no choice but to make the best use of it. Thinking so, I awakened my intoxicated mind.

[We’ll draw some blood. It will be used for interrogation, and any remaining amount will be disposed of within today.]

As the supervisor’s voice ended, the interrogators who had been nearby grabbed my arm.

They drew blood three times, using one of them on the spot. They took the other two and disappeared. I could guess what they’d be used for. Wasn’t that right? It meant the time for my release was near. I felt that no more stomach acid was coming out to dilute the blood I had drunk and spat on the floor. I should get some sleep. Even without thinking so, my mind fell asleep on its own. Since falling asleep would also be part of the remarkable experimental results, they didn’t stop me.

As expected, the interrogators returned. I opened my eyes to the sound while sleeping leaning against my wounded left arm. No, opening my eyes was harder than lifting my head, so I couldn’t do it. The problem, if it was a problem, was that they returned after 30 minutes. I couldn’t see with my eyes, but judging by the air flow, they were standing nearby doing nothing. A voice echoed from outside.

[Has Mikhail Ismailov ever drunk your blood?]

So they’re bringing up the story of Pleroma’s ‘fake’ messiah. Had they found some connection between the two messiahs, or was it flowing as I expected? I remained silent then moved my lips.

“Yes.”

[Why did he drink it?]

“How would I know? My torn neck still tingles.”

[When we rescued Ismailov, we discovered that the hostage’s ear was torn. It was an injury from tearing off an artifact.]

“Is that so? Please tell him I’m sorry.”

No words could be heard. They were suspecting whether I had torn his ear to drink blood, and surprisingly, that was the correct answer. Not only that, but everything they wanted to verify was the correct answer. I could become infinitely strong by drinking blood as they suspected, and was only pretending not to through prior efforts. However, I wouldn’t tell them the correct answer. There was one thing that caught my attention here…

[Did Pleroma call you Christ not because you drink blood, but because Pleroma wants your blood?]

“How would I know? Since it’s true that I don’t drink blood, perhaps that might be the case…”

No answer came. I heard the sound of shoe heels turning. They were exchanging hand signals.

Stab—

There was the sound of flesh being pierced, but my skin was intact. Someone else’s skin, that is. Then wind rushed toward my face. The smell of blood also came closer. Rough fingertips touched my face, but as if they hadn’t intended to touch, they quickly pulled their hand away without saying anything even though I hadn’t said anything. For a moment I wondered if this was someone I knew.

“What are you doing…?”

As soon as I asked, the smell of blood moved further away. The interrogator who had reached out to me moved several steps away and wiped the blood with a towel. That’s what it sounded like. I guessed they had been ordered to see if I preferred drinking from blood vessels rather than contained blood. If they could have seen my eyes, they would have been embarrassed. Would I drink it… If I had been cornered and fighting, I might have truly drunk it, but that was a truth they couldn’t know. Their persistence in trying to find out whether there was a problem until the end was praiseworthy.

And…

[Good.]

Now it was over.

[You don’t react to blood. Primarily, there are no problems with your constitution. We’ll conclude the interrogation before midnight with this.]

I prevented the corners of my mouth from twisting.

Bastards with no substance who were only troublesome. They had tried so hard until the end to find out whether I had the constitution to drink blood or not, but couldn’t get even close to the truth. Whether my simple preparation was the perfect answer, or… What was certain was that even though I had thoroughly prepared, enemies worth facing would devise ways to see through it and confront me, but these ones couldn’t. It was fortunate. Whether it was the inefficiency characteristic of bureaucracy that had become routine or the characteristics of the culprits, their best efforts were extremely ordinary, setting up the stage nicely for me to exploit. I only had to play along like today to make this massive power believe it was doing the right thing.

I felt people leaving the room. However, people might still be watching me from outside the room. Well, if the experiment was over, they should rightfully free me, but instead only they left, so such suspicion was natural, wasn’t it?

Splash…

As the silence prolonged, only the sound of water remained. If this weren’t just other people’s blood, resting in water would have been fine. I raised my head pointlessly while thinking about what else was waiting for me. Then I heard the sound of a door opening followed by slow footsteps. The sound of leather soles touching marble was a sound that couldn’t remain as a good memory, at least in this situation.

“It’s not hard to know what trick you used.”

I heard a whisper. I raised my head toward where the sound came from. It was hard to tell whether the sound came from above or from the side, but I did so anyway. Someone inserted cool fingers starting from my cheek and lifted up the blindfold. My optic nerves, long adapted to darkness, couldn’t accept the intense light that rushed in and inevitably made me squint and close my eyes. Even so, I could tell who he was. His voice, the silhouette that briefly passed by, and the temperature of his skin all pointed to only one person.

Abraham, standing with his back to the light, smiled from within the shadows.

“You get through situations quite well with such a shallow trick. Should I take it to mean you trust me?”

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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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