How to Survive as the Second Son of a Mage Family - Chapter 547

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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 (547)

“I’m honored that you think so.”

I asked while listlessly scanning the surroundings at his retort.

“I’m curious what this is all about.”

“As you can see.”

Abraham moved his horizontally extended hand in a circle to the side and continued speaking.

“I broke some glass.”

“Why?”

“I was curious about something, and I’m grateful.”

He’s just spouting nonsense. I sat back against the backrest and watched him. If he won’t open his mouth, I’ll wait until he does. I began to deduce. Though I’d already done a rough analysis. He hadn’t arranged his hair with oil as if he had no external appointments today, and as I saw earlier, he prioritizes mobility in his clothing – the cuffs and collar aren’t detached either. It’s all one piece. It’s unusual now when most wear assembled shirts. In other words, I can tell he spent the entire day here just smashing glass. I have time left but I don’t know what the hell this is about. I observed the skin on my forearm that hadn’t fully healed yet. The stinging lemon-colored mana that had flowed from torn skin and blood vessels was drawn there.

“Do you think Prussia needs to give permission?”

Abraham, who had been observing my gaze, asked with a smile. Only then did I turn my gaze to look into his bright eyes.

“Your Highness is misunderstanding something – there is no choice. That is, if Your Highness is Prussia’s Crown Prince.”

“Then I do have a choice. By the way, it’s quite regrettable, but you don’t like my surprise right now—”

“So I returned it twofold. What do you think?”

I leaned my body forward and looked up at him from slightly below.

“You’d say it’s good. You like everything I do, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

Abraham said this while raising his eyebrows. Only joy melted across his face. He rested his arm on the sofa backrest while holding his staff under his arm.

“Isn’t this good? It wasn’t just middle-aged people who were greatly shocked and positively accepted your bold performance in front of everyone. Rather, teenage students were more moved than expected. Countless children like my younger brother have increased…”

I closed my mouth and sighed. Just as Adelbert regards Nicolaus Ernst as a hero, among Prussian students, I appeared favorable for not retreating from all kinds of hardships with ‘chivalric spirit.’ To quote the letters I received. It’s not a bad thing. Rather, it’s good, but I still shouldn’t do media play in that direction.

“Thanks to me, you confirmed your explosive popularity among students, and burning with competitive spirit, you even flew to Bavaria and kindly dropped this huge bomb on Prussia. 5,000 tons – truly amazing diplomatic power. I was also truly amazed by the Papal States’ spirit of joining forces to bury Prussia down below. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have urged them to secure that either, so I think you should be grateful to me for providing such incentive.”

“There aren’t many who spout nonsense so boldly. Talking with Your Highness is interesting.”

“Also, I want to ask. Didn’t you call me first? I carved out time from my busy schedule when you called, but you say nothing and instead tell me to say something.”

Abraham muttered listlessly while only sucking on his pipe, as if he hadn’t heard my words. He repeated stroking the platinum staff with one hand, looking like he wanted to break more glass. He tapped the staff slowly with his fingertips, looking bored.

“I mean I want to know the reason for your surprise. I know you originally welcome Prussia scoring own goals…”

“Hmm.”

Only then does Abraham smile. I continued speaking to him as he tilted his head back and looked down at his opponent.

“Don’t we share the same goal of eliminating Pleroma? Killing Prussia is fine, but dragging me down in the process would interfere with your goals too, wouldn’t it?”

“No particular reason. I just reported the facts. You still don’t know how popular you’ve become with teenage girls, do you?”

“You’re still deflecting. Changing the subject away from the essence might work on others, but it won’t work on me.”

“Ah, they were really passionate. ‘I suspected everyone would drink blood, so I felt Your Excellency’s strength of character in the boldness of drinking blood yourself to show them. I truly liked that. For the first time, your eyes felt like cherry blossoms announcing spring rather than a vampire’s mark.’ Since they like it, I should put that tendency in the article.”

I glared at him as he recited the letter’s contents without missing a single syllable. Abraham tilted his head with a gentle smile, looking like he didn’t see what the problem was.

“So I uploaded it with a good photo, isn’t that fine?”

“It’s a shame it should have been taken wearing an Eschete uniform.”

Then Abraham, perhaps acting, showed a stricken face for the first time, squinting his eyes and raising the corners of his mouth.

“Ah, wrong. Give up if you’re thinking of confusing me. I can’t tell if you mean you’re disappointed you couldn’t break me with strategic visual media, or if you’re saying that because you really have no aesthetic sense. If it’s the latter, no need to be disappointed. You happened to wear clothes that photograph well. Did anyone even tell you that photos would be taken today?”

He continued while looking over my clothes.

“And if it’s the former, don’t worry and be happy. As if our brains were connected, you chose to wear exactly what I wanted. Thanks to that, the impression I wanted came out well.”

Every image is strategy. Photogenic clothing, the meaning hidden in his garbled words – he means the image was harmonious and eye-catching, with similar cool-toned colors in the top and complementary red accents. It’s true. This is what it means to be different from past political photos that intended weight with low angles and black colors.

The main reason the front-page photo of the tabloid was praised as well-taken is because the accent coloring and tone-on-tone coloring with brightness differences harmonized well. And for me, these two contrasts within the frame become a problem of bringing out freedom and individuality. That’s necessary for teenagers but not for politicians. If I had worn an Eschete uniform today with similar colors to my eyes but different tones, it would look hot and the image my eyes give would be relatively buried. Instead, that image would give stability rather than freshness or coolness, so when wearing the Eschete uniform, that coloring would match well with the image the association pursues. Today is exactly the opposite. Abraham is saying he’s grateful because it’s the opposite.

It’s nothing special. In industries that use psychology, it’s normal for the intention not to be outwardly apparent, so whatever you wear in photos, you should only intuitively feel the effect while the intention shouldn’t be explicitly felt. I analyze it this way because I was in such an industry and personally sharpened my senses to messages others wanted to convey through my appearance, but most people don’t think it’s important. But Abraham says he was lucky that this trivial intention matched exactly.

Whenever he shows such insight, I conclude that his prospects are dim. Propaganda using image and aesthetics is still a strategy whose time hasn’t fully come. He grasps the future of propaganda he hasn’t even experienced yet too casually. From a casual level, he has the same strategies and mindset as those who try to control psychology unknowingly and trivially. As if he would become a pioneer just like those who opened the history of 20th-century propaganda.

I looked down at the black pants and low-saturation silk-textured burgundy jacket I had changed into, different from the morning, and thought. I had no intention of being drawn into his provocation.

“I didn’t think you’d have aesthetic sense, but you have good taste.”

“Haha. Did I seem aesthetically lacking?”

“I wasn’t interested enough to think about that, so well… But…”

Just looking at the room’s interior gives you an estimate. Those unfamiliar with combinations often match most things including colors to the same family without considering differences in color, contrast, texture, and area to make safe choices, and if they go a bit more boldly, they only use conventionally accepted contrasts. In contrast, this place has bold color choices, but the green outside and the red furniture have similar tones, and the red occupies an appropriate area ratio. The downside is that the only furniture is a glass trolley, glass table, and sofa, so the white area is large and hospital-like, but at least for Abraham’s purposes, that would be appropriate. A hospital for fixing minds, that sort of purpose. I asked while looking around.

“I can roughly tell. So what is this place?”

“As you know.”

Abraham said while gesturing with his hand.

“It’s a room for education.”

“How barbaric.”

“It’s progressive. Now, say hello. He’s the editor-in-chief of the Imperial Newspaper.”

He approached the chair and tilted back the sleeping person’s face. Telling me to greet a sleeping person… I glanced at the glass scattered on the floor and looked at Abraham with distaste. Abraham spoke as if recalling what had just happened.

“We were having tea time here.”

Perhaps reading the emotion in my eyes, Abraham shrugged and said.

“I’m not even using my abilities as promised with you. If you insist, would you like to try it yourself?”

He held out his staff to me. He floated the glasswork placed on the trolley in the air. I suspect it involves shocking the senses while injecting desired information – it’s a primitive brainwashing method rather than using abilities. After this process, the chief editor will shudder whenever he hears about certain people or news. I can only hope my imagination isn’t too moderate. I glanced at the staff and said listlessly.

“I refuse.”

“Couldn’t you go out and engrave some unconscious thoughts that would help you?”

“Sometimes I see you don’t do a single human-like thing.”

“That’s what makes me human.”

“Good to see you take pride in it.”

I said this while checking my watch.

“I must have been briefly insane to come here hoping for some productive conversation. You don’t seem likely to end your media play. You also seem to have no will to clean up the slight effects that have already occurred.”

I, who had been staring only at my watch, moved only my eyes toward Abraham standing in front of the metal chair.

“Am I right?”

If he admits this is correct, or if he deflects the topic with more nonsense, I will immediately leave this place and prepare a second operation in Bavaria. Even though I broke his attempt once, there’s no guarantee there won’t be a second. Until Abraham withdraws his orders, the tabloids can plaster newspapers with my story for several days if no other special issues arise.

“Let’s go out.”

I raised my eyebrows at those words. Abraham swung his staff to change it into a wand and carelessly threw it on the glass trolley as if it weren’t his. He passed over the floor covered with broken glass and turned his head back slightly.

“It’s an imperial command. Your clothes are appropriate this time too.”

We soon went to where the carriage was. I put Abraham in the carriage first without a chance to ask questions, then asked once more while standing with my feet on the ground.

“Where are we going?”

“Is it your business?”

When Abraham gestured, his subordinates carefully led me to the carriage. I followed their guidance to find out what he wanted to go out for. As the carriage began moving to leave the Imperial Palace, Abraham opened the window in the middle of the carriage and spoke leisurely to the coachman.

“Go to Victoria Lyceum.”

Hearing those words, I couldn’t not know Abraham’s plan. The moment I raised one corner of my mouth and was about to rub my fingers together with a snicker, Abraham grabbed my wrist. The running carriage disappeared and my body stopped with a jolt. The scenery before my eyes changed and wind blew. Abraham scolded me.

“You don’t appreciate my sincerity.”

It was time to retort “Is it my business?” but the students and faculty lined up in front of the main gate looked at us in confusion as we suddenly appeared. Abraham must have sent word to Victoria Lyceum in advance that we would be going there. If he prepared in advance, I’m actually curious what he’ll have me do here.

I glanced at the Victoria Lyceum building and straightened my posture. This is a Christian-based girls’ school. Though I can’t know exactly why Abraham dragged me to a girls’ school, it would be a lie to say the prank he set up in the tabloids isn’t involved in his scheme at all.

Though all these people are lined up in front, the person in charge hasn’t come yet. It must be because Abraham warped here before the appointment time without any courtesy. Feeling piercing gazes for some reason, I raised my head and met eyes with numerous high school students wearing uniformly dark-colored uniforms, their hair braided and swept back, leaning out of windows in the building beyond the main gate.

Abraham whispers beside me with interest.

“Even seeing this, will you say the article is false? No one thinks that article is wrong.”

“I said that’s deflecting the point.”

It’s also a problem if they don’t think it’s wrong. The reason students are watching me closely isn’t for other reasons but because I’m a celebrity who was branded as a vampire until yesterday. I would stare at me too.

I still need to be a politician, and even if there are young students who show favor like those who sent me love letters, that’s a personal matter – the key is that it shouldn’t be made into articles and public opinion shouldn’t flow in that direction. But this bastard knows better than anyone and makes me say what I already said. Scratching nerves like this was his specialty, so I could now pass it off familiarly. I didn’t respond and waited for the person in charge to come. Abraham whispers while watching people as if he doesn’t care whether I do or not – come to think of it, we always walk our own paths.

“The students’ faces are bright, but the teachers looking at you are quite a sight to see.”

I know that too. Tension and discomfort are easily distinguishable. This school’s teachers are looking at me somewhat uncomfortably. It’s probably because these teachers are the ones who supervise the girls’ school, and they seemed worried I might do some ‘heartbreaking’ thing to the students and disrupt the school’s discipline. I wanted to ask these teachers if that made sense…

However, in this conservative society, especially at a Christian girls’ school, such wariness isn’t unreasonable. The teachers also know about the tabloid commotion that started from lunch today. All sorts of Prussian tabloids reported such things, so it would have been harder not to hear rumors. At least if it had been before they heard the news, they would have thought of me as an ‘student to watch in the future’ like ordinary Prussian adults, and wouldn’t have shown such wariness again. Since I also don’t like school discipline becoming lax, I wanted to clarify that I don’t confuse Prussian students and support the teachers, but I couldn’t speak now.

What’s certain is that because of that damn article, I appear to these teachers as someone to watch closely. They don’t need to be hostile like before, but there’s no harm in keeping watch.

Then, from behind, someone who appeared to be the principal came out hurriedly, grabbing her skirt hem, and bowed.

“Crown Prince. I am Christin Reman. I am the principal of this school.”

“Nice to meet you, Teacher Reman.”

The Crown Prince greeted leisurely with a good-natured face.

Even while slightly bending her knees in greeting, the principal glances at me with distaste. She looked at empty air with eyes that see a young brat whose blood hasn’t even dried in their head, then turned around. All of this was done under polite gestures and smiles, making it a situation where pointing out rudeness would seem rude instead. In contrast, the principal shows a more willing face to the Crown Prince. Abraham enters the building corridor first and waits for me with a smile. When I pass by his side, he casts a sound-blocking spell and says.

“It’s a high school that also serves as a rampage rehabilitation and recovery institution. The management is Lutheran. There are several who are both doctors and pastors as teachers, receiving divine artifacts and administering medicine to patients.”

“I think such work should be done by the government rather than left to civilians, but you’ve done well passing it off until now.”

“I think so too.”

Abraham unusually agreed shamelessly with my words.

We followed the principal’s guidance to the building next to the auditorium, and from there we entered the auditorium. A dark hallway stretched out before us. Even though this was my first time in this building, I could tell from the structure. This was behind the stage.

After passing through the hallway, Abraham placed his hand on my shoulder in front of a door.

“So with the help of our Nikolaus Ernst, we’re trying to make some progress now.”

“….”

“We want to make this location our Center No. 1, but unfortunately, the Lutheran Nationalist forces refuse to listen to our opinions at all.”

They’re rejecting the government’s offer of support even for helping rampage rehabilitation? And that’s rejecting an Imperial Court proposal? Lutheran believers and nationalists usually welcome Prussian proposals with open arms. But seeing that they’ve hit such obstacles, there must be very political reasons attached to this.

This bastard brought me here to persuade them. Even knowing that the teachers at this girls’ school view me somewhat unfavorably. I wore a crooked smile and watched to see what more he would babble. Abraham placed his fingers on the door handle, then smiled brightly and slowly pushed the door open.

“So our Herzensbrecher should… step forward once.”

Through the open door, darkness and light were visible simultaneously. Countless students and faculty sat across from the stage. The students and faculty who had welcomed us at the main gate had now returned to the auditorium, filling the empty seats in the front rows. Supervisors and what appeared to be city councilors from the Prussian Government were also at the end. Abraham pushed my back and whispered in my ear from slightly behind.

“If you’re truly a politician, you should be able to break away from being a young man with nothing to see except his face and persuade even hostile Lutheran Nationalists. Isn’t that right?”

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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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