How to Survive as the Second Son of a Mage Family - Chapter 593

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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 (593)

“How foolish indeed.”

The Young Gentleman was drinking coffee and watching outside the window when he looked at the Elderly Gentleman. Now snowflakes were flying, sticking to the latticed window frame and melting repeatedly, then gradually accumulating. The reason he had been watching this was because the atmosphere in this place was so frozen that it was difficult to sit still and observe. It seemed as if the chill still lingered in the spot where the carrier pigeon had entered and left. As the young man watched the Elderly Gentleman with tense eyes, the Elderly Gentleman replied nonchalantly.

“Those people who say the heavens listened to their words and sent down rain.”

“Are there still such fools today? If you’re talking about the old days, it couldn’t be helped back then. That was the wisdom of the ancients, wasn’t it?”

The young man smacked his lips and put down his coffee cup as he spoke.

“The wisdom of the ignorant. The wisdom of those with a narrow world. But we think this way to honor our ancestors, yet if we think carefully, it wouldn’t be wisdom even if we returned to ancient times.”

The Young Gentleman glanced at the note in the Elderly Gentleman’s hand, swallowed, and tilted his head. The Elderly Gentleman continued speaking with a face that was neither mocking nor weary, but somewhere in between, as he rubbed his throat.

“Am I saying this because they’re fools who believe humans and nature can communicate in human language? That’s part of it, but actually it’s not that. Their lack of knowledge isn’t the problem. Foolishness isn’t essentially about that.”

“Then if lack of knowledge has no connection to foolishness, what is foolish?”

“Those priests place themselves at the center of the world. So they don’t know that their words aren’t heard by others, and even if heard, have no value to those others. Because in their own world they are so precious and have enough presence that everyone should listen to their words, they believe they can influence others just by speaking. They even believe they can control the weather with their commands.”

The Young Gentleman thought about the connection between the note and this statement, and since he couldn’t avoid answering entirely, he responded according to what he understood.

“That would be so. Since I know foreign languages, didn’t I serve as a dispute mediator in Tahiti? There, civilian influence was particularly strong, and each person who came to petition had different things to say, with dozens of different petitions coming in. Unfortunately, to complete my duties safely, I couldn’t accept any of them. In other words, from a judge’s perspective, those were just worthless opinions, so I as a mediator couldn’t convey them.”

“No, you’re wrong. You had no intention of accepting the residents’ petitions.”

“Such harsh words are meaningless. First of all, they were many and I was one, so it was destined that I couldn’t read all their opinions. The residents probably never dreamed that I wasn’t reading their petitions directly but hearing summaries from my Secretary. They must have thought I read all the petitions and sent them to court, so I’m sorry but it couldn’t be helped. As you know, it hadn’t been long since we took Tahiti from the British…”

The Young Gentleman narrowed his eyes, looked outside the window, then stopped speaking.

“Above all, it couldn’t be helped because the law was already established. I couldn’t change what had been systematically arranged beforehand according to my sympathies. If you weave the warp and weft wrongly, you have to unravel the entire fabric.”

The Elderly Gentleman, who had been listening patiently with an expressionless face throughout, crumpled the note in his hand when this topic came up and spoke mockingly.

“That’s it. But these fools don’t know there are predetermined things, and they don’t know they’re not valuable enough to create exceptions to them. How did a priest become a priest? Sometimes in certain tribes, when a particular person raised his hands to the sky, it rained. If he raised his hands ten times, it rained four times. Then we ask: don’t they see the other six times?”

“Unfortunately, due to their foolishness, they probably don’t see it. If they have such naive faith based on being right four times, they probably don’t even know they were wrong six times.”

“Even those four times being right is just an amazing coincidence from our modern perspective. Modern precise science proves the truth. But ancient people, not knowing science, believed that if it worked out four times, heaven accepted that person’s words. That innocence and stupidity and fear deifies an individual who babbles ‘please send some rain soon’ to a target that doesn’t even listen…”

“That…”

“We are at that scene. Disappointingly, that’s all there is.”

The note falls from the Elderly Gentleman’s hand.

Prophet Abel has declared Madam Kruger as part of Cain.

It’s a hastily scribbled one-line carrier pigeon note. The two gentlemen looked outside the window with displeased faces. Foolish masses had been deceived by a plausible swindler’s fraudulent acts. What was written on this note was content proving exactly that.

“However.”

The Young Gentleman continued speaking while pulling down one corner of his mouth.

“There is magic. Our era has not only science but also magic. What if the priest really had unique abilities and could control the sky?”

In other words, couldn’t we still not rule out the possibility that Prophet Abel really could contain part of Abel in his body? The Young Gentleman said so. The Elderly Gentleman struck the end of the note with his fingernail.

“Would such a person appear in this manner now?”

“But Madam Kruger’s salon is a well-known séance salon secretly in Munich. People from such salons wouldn’t believe just anything.”

“You said you couldn’t reflect the residents’ petitions containing their wishes in the trial. You had no intention of selecting and conveying them to the judge.”

“What made reasonable requests were naturally conveyed to the judge by my Secretary. What could I do about the rest when they were requesting impossible things from the start? Strict systems established beforehand take priority over emotions. Everything that deviates from the plan only causes problems for things that must last long, and Tahiti’s security and legal system belong to ‘things that must last long’.”

“Right. Knowing this full well, the residents did useless things. Why? People don’t know that the world can’t listen to their words. They don’t know they’re not that important. ‘To others, to heaven, to the world, you as a person have no great value’ – they don’t know this fact and firmly believe they can meet Abel’s manifestation and pursue justice. Why would Abel choose you people? They have no such doubts. What great things do you think you’re saying that he would come listen to such nonsense?”

The Young Gentleman sighed with an uncomfortable expression at those words. While he understood the context, he was uncomfortable with treating the Tahitians as foolish without distinction, and the Elderly Gentleman’s expression was so unrestrained even toward him as a Colleague that his seat felt unstable. However, since both felt the same absurdity from the note, the Young Gentleman ended up somewhat sympathizing with what the Elderly Gentleman wanted to convey.

“People are like that. Salon people are no different. Like priests performing rain ceremonies, they believe things will come true if they speak, or at least believe there’s a justification for it to come true, or if that doesn’t work, they’re swayed by those who agitate that the warp and weft were wrongly woven from the beginning. The psychology of believing oneself important to everyone in the world doesn’t matter whether you’re thirty or fifty. Otherwise, they pick up something they think isn’t publicly known and think they’ve grasped a secret. ‘That secret is shared only by us’.”

“Yes, there are so many people who think that way. Such masses probably wouldn’t even understand what this means. Now I see why you brought up the priest story today.”

Because they don’t understand, this disaster happened. The Young Gentleman now understood the context of this conversation and tried to appease the Elderly Gentleman. The Elderly Gentleman leaned back against his chair and pulled down the corner of his mouth.

“I’m quite drained. To think I came all the way to Munich…”

The Young Gentleman sympathized and kept his mouth shut. He too was quite disappointed.

“Even us. Even we became pathetic fellows. So I’m speaking like this because I’m unbearably disappointed. To fly all the way here listening to these fools’ agitation was truly hasty.”

“You must be very disappointed. But Prophet Abel is…”

The Young Gentleman trailed off and closed his mouth.

Prophet Abel is fake. He’s either a mental patient who truly believes himself important to the world, or a swindler who pretends to be while manipulating the masses. In these advanced times, it wouldn’t be difficult for someone calling himself Abel to enter a mental hospital, and with this level of madness, every mental hospital in southern Bavaria would want to capture him and charge his family enormous treatment fees. To have avoided that path somehow, he must have truly remarkable eloquence.

Those who were deceived by this Abel are all worthless regardless of age. By being deceived by false rumors, they gave power to a false person – could there be more shamefully ignorant people than these?

The Elderly Gentleman was saying this. The Young Gentleman looked outside the window with a smile distorted by complex feelings, strange triumph, and anxiety.

Prophet Abel was deceived! He was completely defeated by our scheme.

The Young Gentleman had inwardly hoped that Prophet Abel might be drawing a bigger picture, but when Prophet Abel fell conspicuously into the game this Elderly Gentleman had prepared, the old man lost all expectations and will and became so fierce he seemed about to curse severely, so the Young Gentleman didn’t voice his expectations. In effect, Prophet Abel had been defeated and this Elderly Gentleman had won overwhelmingly, but this gentleman was feeling betrayed when Prophet Abel, whom he thought might have something worthwhile to glean, fell for it immediately. That sense of betrayal was melted into the deep lamentation up to now.

To not rejoice in his own victory – that sight renewed the Young Gentleman’s heart.

The Elderly Gentleman had set up a scheme that the Young Gentleman couldn’t grasp at once. Combining what he knew before with newly obtained information about Mathilde Lorenz and the Kruger family, he staged a possession situation and gave Prophet Abel hints. Since it was a scheme not easily seen through, it wasn’t strange that Prophet Abel unfortunately fell for it. Since the Elderly Gentleman’s plan was so excellent, one couldn’t think Prophet Abel was easy prey.

However, it became clear through this possession experiment that Prophet Abel was an ordinary person without prophetic abilities. If he had prophetic abilities, God would surely have told him ‘you are being tested,’ but he fell for mere human trickery.

“This might be a good thing for us.”

Spirit rose in the Young Gentleman’s eyes. The Elderly Gentleman raised his eyebrows while drinking coffee. Encouraged by that signal, the Young Gentleman pulled his body forward and spoke in a low voice.

“Rather, we don’t have to feel guilty that God might be watching right beside us. Look! Even if Prophet Abel is fake, people who know secrets might gather around that prophet. As you said, ‘That secret is shared only by us.’ Those with such thinking could gather around Abel, a rare spiritual being. It can’t be helped that there are narcissists who boast about secrets that are just common knowledge, and there may be few who have real secrets, but when no answer is visible, competing with quantity is best. So whether Abel is real or not may no longer matter.”

The Elderly Gentleman slowly nodded. He put down his coffee cup and wiped his lips with a napkin. The Young Gentleman raised the corners of his mouth.

“You understand what I mean.”

* * *

“What does that mean…?”

Mr. Kruger brought his eyebrows close to his eyes and twisted his lips. Prophet Abel lowered his strange white eyebrows. Why was it? It looked exactly like he was telling him to sit in the armchair next to him, so Mr. Kruger sat there as if enchanted.

“Forgive my rudeness, Madam. I know you are without sin.”

Prophet Abel took Mr. Kruger’s hand and kissed the back of it. Long, warm hands completely enveloped Mr. Kruger’s hands. After that, strangely, the rudeness Prophet Abel had shown earlier no longer felt like rudeness to Mr. Kruger. Mr. Kruger looked at Prophet Abel’s dark one eye and bright opposite eye, thinking of it as an inexplicable mystery. When Prophet Abel met Mr. Kruger’s eyes, Mr. Kruger felt a strange attraction. Something seemed to be powerfully connecting between Mr. Kruger and Prophet Abel, and the doubts that had risen in Mr. Kruger’s heart when not looking directly at the prophet mysteriously retreated for a moment, and now it began to seem that Prophet Abel had made an unavoidable choice for the greater good. Even if he was the victim of nonsense about being Cain’s sympathizer or whatever, he had no choice before these faithful eyes.

When Mr. Kruger was in heavy anxiety, Prophet Abel opened his mouth.

“Mr. Kruger. You arrived at the Manor only just before the salon began yesterday.”

“How do you know that…? Priest, you didn’t come to the salon yesterday.”

“And you sent me two letters.”

“That’s correct.”

At the look that seemed to ask him to say what he had received, Mr. Kruger spoke as if enchanted.

“One was a letter saying something had happened to Miss Mathilde, and the other was a letter saying the situation was over. I’d appreciate your understanding that the second letter’s content was brief. I was in no state to be thorough at the time.”

Prophet Abel didn’t say unnecessary words. He lowered his eyes to substitute for an answer and grasped the end of the tangled thread in Mr. Kruger’s mind. A quiet voice echoed in the Room.

“Mr. Kruger. The letters I received were two letters with red wax seals bearing the Kruger family crest.”

“Well, naturally…”

Getting that far, Mr. Kruger widened his eyes and whispered.

“The second letter I sent wouldn’t have had a seal. Naturally no wax either. The second letter wasn’t sent from home.”

Mr. Kruger’s seal was at home. While Mr. Kruger’s husband wore a signet ring, wives who mainly conducted social activities at home kept their seals at home. This was because the usual practice was to write letters completely at home and then hand them to Servants, rather than going directly to the Post Office to send them.

However, Abel’s Prophet was looking at Mr. Kruger with eyes that held not a shred of doubt. Mr. Kruger hesitantly opened his mouth.

“I always wanted to strictly observe formalities, thinking of our Kruger family’s honor and the respect Priest deserves… but as you know, yesterday’s disturbance was like a funeral for Christians. Even if no one dies, it’s equally heartbreaking, so it wouldn’t have been proper to leave first before Mr. Lorenz indicated he wanted us to excuse ourselves. Mr. Lorenz seemed to need someone to confide in because he was so heartbroken. That rich man who was usually busy putting on airs did nothing but cry to me endlessly yesterday.”

Mr. Kruger was sensitive about dignity. Even if one said this was characteristic of bourgeoisie trying to follow nobility, there would be nothing to argue. He dropped red wax and left his family crest on it every time to make a good impression on Prophet Abel. In today’s world where glue-sealed envelopes had been invented and widely spread, it was an unnecessary procedure.

But even such a Mr. Kruger had no choice but to use letter paper provided at the Post Office yesterday. Since letters were usually written and sent from home, one wouldn’t normally carry wax and lamps around, so he couldn’t attach wax with proper formality.

But Abel’s Prophet now says he received a letter with wax attached.

How? Mr. Kruger continued speaking in confusion.

“…So I stopped by the Post Office across from Miss Mathilde’s Manor and barely managed to leave a letter with only two lines written. Still, I couldn’t be late, so I had it sent immediately with express delivery.”

“Post Offices don’t have wax.”

“Right. So I can’t stamp the family crest on the envelope. Instead, there are glue-sealed envelopes. I had no choice but to use the glue-sealed envelopes sold at the Post Office, so how did you receive a letter with wax attached?”

“I didn’t receive it. Only the envelope was replaced.”

What? The words Mr. Kruger was about to reflexively shout got stuck in his throat. To be able to say such things so boldly? Replaced, how? By whom? Why? What benefit would there be from replacing only the envelope?

Surely the answer would be clear, but Mr. Kruger couldn’t understand why Abel’s Prophet had said such things. Abel’s Prophet didn’t lose his composure, unaware of Mr. Kruger’s urgent heart.

“Someone broke into the Room where I’m staying and threw away the mail’s glue-sealed envelope, replacing it with a wax-sealed letter envelope.”

“Why would they do that? If they were sane, they wouldn’t do such complicated things.”

There were many things he wanted to ask. But Abel’s Prophet didn’t answer personal questions. He closed his eyes and entrusted his body to ritual as if speaking calmly according to natural order.

“So Mr. Kruger, this is why I pointed you out. The reason they’re not sane is because they’re trying to test me by sacrificing you. I was thinking of going along with their wishes first.”

Mr. Kruger still couldn’t understand what that meant. Abel’s Prophet asked gently.

“It’s quite a laborious deduction.”

“I suppose so. I have no idea what’s going on. Please explain…”

“The Sender made me suspicious of you.”

“Yes, so…”

“A formal letter with wax wasn’t written impromptu at the Post Office but was completed at a Manor and came to the Post Office, or else it was sent between manors using a private courier. And I had no choice but to know that Mr. Kruger didn’t return to the Manor until late yesterday. Though I silently didn’t go to the salon, I was originally supposed to attend the salon last night, so you sent me letters twice. If I had attended, since it would be unspeakably rude for a mere Guest like me to be late, I would have arrived at the Manor before you, so the Servants would have told me this: ‘Master hasn’t arrived yet. Since the time is almost near, if you wait here he’ll come soon’.”

“Wait, I don’t understand… I’m getting old so it’s not easy to understand. What importance does that have?”

“I understand, Mr. Kruger. When facing such schemes, it’s basic to think from the Antagonist’s perspective rather than my own position. I must think how far the Antagonist expects regarding what I know. The Antagonist is supposed to strategically utilize the difference between the range they assume I know and the range they know to devise operations.”

“Wait, um… wait.”

Mr. Kruger pressed his stiff head and closed his eyes. Though it was simple words he would have understood immediately under normal circumstances, he was seriously flustered and couldn’t easily process them. Prophet Abel waited patiently without showing annoyance. When Mr. Kruger opened his eyes with deep concern, Prophet Abel appeared to have no thoughts at all. Mr. Kruger, thinking it somewhat ridiculous himself, felt hope upon seeing Prophet Abel’s indifferent reaction that perhaps Kruger’s own thinking wasn’t particularly rigid after all. Prophet Abel summarized in a gentle voice to help Mr. Kruger.

“To summarize, the Antagonist knows that ‘the white-haired Envoy of the Covenant has no choice but to know that Mr. Kruger still remains with the Lorenz Family.’ If you don’t understand this three-layered frame structure, I won’t bother explaining what comes next. Any explanation would only be a difficult task for you.”

Mr. Kruger’s hope vanished with these words. Though Mr. Kruger was dumbfounded, he knew he wasn’t being sarcastic. Since he had finally managed to understand a few things—though he still couldn’t understand why Prophet Abel started the conversation from the scope of knowledge—he immediately responded to Prophet Abel’s declaration that he wouldn’t even speak if it seemed incomprehensible.

“No, I understand now.”

“A minor detail, but they would think my certainty about the knowledge I mentioned earlier would come later in time. Nevertheless, I had already anticipated that Mr. Kruger would decide to remain with the Lorenz Family until late, because you, as the madam of the ‘necromancy’ salon, couldn’t just stand by and watch Mathilde Lorenz, who was possessed by a demon that seemed ‘summoned,’ and her family members. You had to observe whether the Lorenz Family members were grinding their teeth trying to find the cause of the possession, or had given up, and whether Mathilde Lorenz would wake up and point to you and the necromancy salon as the cause of possession, or reveal anything about Prophet Abel. Even due to anxiety, you had to keep everything in your sight until the very last moment. Only then could you adjust the situation to prevent the ‘necromancy’ salon from suffering harm.”

At those words, Mr. Kruger’s face hardened coldly. It was the correct answer.

Prophet Abel continued speaking with his eyes closed, resting his arm on the armrest with a face as comfortable as if God had settled within him.

“In this situation, the fact that Mr. Kruger returned to the manor late becomes certain, not just inference, when I arrived at the manor.”

“But is this so important?”

“Yes, it is. You must learn to think for yourself before Cain’s Followers, Mr. Kruger. If it becomes certain that Mr. Kruger returned to the manor late, then who sent me the second sealed letter? A servant? No. The handwriting was the same from the first verification. If only the seal and stamp were the same, it would likely have been sent by a servant, which wouldn’t be problematic. However, sending it with your handwriting on a pre-prepared seal stamped with the family crest undoubtedly makes it a letter sent by you. Combining all this information, sending two sealed letters means that even the evening letter was written in advance before leaving Mr. Kruger’s manor, not from the post office, and sent with a time difference, which means Mr. Kruger had foreseen this entire possession incident from beginning to end.”

“Ah, no…”

Mr. Kruger feels his lower jaw moving away due to gravity. His momentarily slowed heartbeat multiplies frantically. Prophet Abel answered precisely even with his eyes closed.

“Now you’ve grasped the whole story.”

“How, why…”

“The Antagonist primarily used Mathilde Lorenz as a smokescreen.”

“Smokescreen?”

“A smokescreen advertising that their level isn’t very high. The development that ‘one who was possessed and then freed acts differently than before’—this progression is so easy that anyone asked to pick out someone belonging to Cain’s Followers would correctly choose Mathilde Lorenz. Then why did they do something so obvious? As I said earlier, they presented the easy option of Mathilde Lorenz to make us complacent and look for other suspects instead of Mathilde Lorenz… The thought that there might be a hidden answer is basic thinking for anyone playing a game. This remains the same whether the game is made easy or elaborate. And once humans find a hidden answer, they naturally don’t think there might be something even more hidden. Because they believe they’ve already seen through the opponent’s trick. The more elaborate the second trick is, making it difficult to grasp easily, the less suspicion there is. So they set the first trick involving Miss Mathilde Lorenz easily and appropriately adjusted the difficulty of the second trick.”

Mr. Kruger’s vision turns dark. He swayed while sitting due to dizziness. Gentle hands carefully caught his shoulders and made him lean against the backrest.

“That scapegoat is Mr. Kruger. The smokescreen using you sends a signal that they’re using their heads to some degree, and unlike the primary smokescreen, it’s meaningful in that it no longer sends the shallow message of ‘we set up tricks to make you complacent.’ You must understand what I mean. They twisted the problem twice to obscure my vision and created the answer that ‘Mr. Kruger is the real follower of Cain’s will instead of Mathilde Lorenz.’ This too is a matter of crossroads.”

“Why did they have to do that?”

“They probably wanted to know whether I would designate Mr. Kruger as Cain’s Followers or not. Because that would be a tool to prove Abel’s ability. On the other hand, it might not be for that purpose. It might be a scheme to take me away when I decide to distance myself from Mr. Kruger.”

“Wait, but don’t you know that I’m not Cain’s Followers and that a third adversary devised this scheme? So…”

Mr. Kruger opened his eyes wide with shock and said.

“You defeated the true Cain’s Followers. And then you decided not to reveal that you had won. Designating me as the villain in that place means exactly that. Am I right?”

He doesn’t answer. Mr. Kruger was already in the midst of a storm of rushing thoughts, so the answer wasn’t important.

“…Wait, then who is the person who visited your room and only switched the letter envelope? Also, if I’m not the real target but a smokescreen, there must be their real spy, right?”

Prophet Abel smiled broadly. He didn’t answer this time either. As if facing a question not worth answering. He began what he had to say.

“Then what do they believe? I was deceived by their scheme and designated Mr. Kruger as one of Cain’s clan. That’s what they ‘know.’ Now it’s my turn to gauge others’ knowledge to formulate strategy.”

Do they think I truly failed, or do they think I pretended to fail.

Mr. Kruger immediately understood Prophet Abel’s meaning but couldn’t know what the unidentified enemies might be thinking.

“That, I…”

“You wouldn’t know well.”

At the warm voice, Mr. Kruger nodded while massaging his throbbing head and temples.

“Do you have a coin?”

When Mr. Kruger handed over a gold coin with an almost prayerful heart, Prophet Abel placed it on his fingertip and flicked it. Then he caught it and opened his hand. The gold coin with a human face drawn on it gleamed.

“It came up heads.”

Wondering what that could mean, Mr. Kruger looked at Prophet Abel’s quiet face with anxious eyes. Prophet Abel smiled and said.

“They believe I was completely deceived by their trick.”

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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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