My Daddy Hides His Power - Chapter 29

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

Father hides his strength
Chapter 29
* * *
“…So you’re saying you want to take in someone else’s illegitimate child and raise them?”
Nordic asked, his voice sharp as a blade.
Enoch, who had been watching his father’s expression while clearing his throat nervously, nodded.
“Yes. If I don’t take them in, I can’t guarantee the child’s survival. For now, I’ll become their temporary guardian, and we can decide their future gradually.”
“Do as you see fit. You’re dismissed.”
When Nordic acquiesced so readily, Enoch’s eyes widened.
“…That’s it?”
“What else do you need?”
“I mean, I disappear for seven years causing you grief, and the moment I return you’re ready to lecture me—yet you’re granting this so easily?”
“It seems you’ve at least learned to see your own actions objectively, which is something to be grateful for.”
Nordic exhaled softly.
He set down the angular pen and propped his chin on his hand, studying Enoch.
‘Always the same, this one.’
His son, Enoch, had never been one to act as a nobleman should.
Both were noble, yet one was willing to murder his own blood for reputation while the other pitied that child and wished to shelter them. Scandal was guaranteed, and yet…
“You didn’t need to ask my permission in the first place. I passed this house to you long ago.”
“Still, since the family name is involved in a public matter, I couldn’t simply decide alone—that wouldn’t be filial piety.”
“If I objected, would you send the child away?”
“Of course not. That’s why I came here nervous, trying to persuade you…”
“Persuade is a generous word—you’ll do what you want regardless. I simply don’t want to waste breath arguing, so handle it yourself.”
“My goodness… Father, you’ve become quite gentler, haven’t you?”
“I’m adapting to your madness.”
As he spoke, Nordic chuckled softly.
When Enoch was younger, they had clashed often enough.
How hard Nordic had struggled to make his son understand, once the boy’s mind grew sharp enough to question the Class System of this nation.
Fortunately, Enoch had learned to compromise, eventually yielding and growing into a dutiful son.
Though not because he understood the absurdity of the Class System or accepted the Chosen People Mentality that saturated noble society.
It was simply filial duty—following his father’s will.
“I’ve always carried regret toward you. Regret, and sorrow.”
“Father?”
Nordic had forced Enoch to live a life at odds with his own convictions.
So his son had always been a tender wound to him.
“Even forcing you to take a bride…”
“…”
“I regret it now. I should never have demanded that.”
Enoch had complied even with the Political Marriage arranged for the sake of an heir.
Had Nordic known it would cost seven years of absence…
He would never have insisted.
“Father?”
Enoch studied the darkening shadow across Nordic’s features, then smiled.
“I’m more grateful than anyone for your choice back then. If I’d been stubborn, refused to marry and insisted on having no children, and truly won against you…”
“…”
“God, it’s horrifying. My princess wouldn’t exist in this world at all.”
Enoch spoke the words seriously before breaking into sudden laughter.
“I’m truly grateful, Father. Lilis’s birth transformed my entire world.”
“…”
“For the first time, I felt life was worth living. Watching her grow day by day, I finally understood what happiness was.”
Enoch gazed into the memory of his daughter’s face, speaking as though in a dream.
“I want to show her a better world. Though I know it won’t be easy.”
“What could stop you?”
Nordic met his son’s gaze directly.
“I’m old now. There’s nothing left for me but the grave, so I won’t obstruct what you do anymore.”
“…”
“It’s not too late. Do what you wish. Sell off the house or save it—an old man won’t stand in your way.”
“Haha…”
When Enoch laughed, Nordic laughed with him.
The two men fell silent, yet something deeper than words lingered between them, a tenderness that would remain for some time to come.
* * *
I was startled to find Cheshire sprawled across the bed beside me, freshly washed, watching me draw.
“What is this?”
Cheshire said he’d never seen a jellyfish before.
So I showed him a fairy tale book with a jellyfish in it and told him to copy it, but….
“What? Don’t you like it? Want me to draw again?”
I let out a hollow laugh as I looked at Cheshire’s drawing.
‘Is this what you call a Protagonist Buff?’
My jaw dropped involuntarily. On the canvas sat a hyperrealistic jellyfish rendered with almost impossible detail.
Was this a drawing, or a photograph?
“Wait, this jellyfish looks completely different from the one in that picture book…. How on earth did you take a jellyfish drawn in fairy tale picture-book style and somehow—”
—produce this photorealistic jellyfish?! Give the buffs a little more plausibility, would you!
“…….”
Cheshire merely tilted his head with an indifferent gaze.
This was utterly absurd.
Indeed, he possessed that protagonist quality of “cannot do what cannot be done”
—like some absurd keyword.
“What? Want me to draw again?”
“No, no. I didn’t mean you couldn’t do it. Just… you’re really talented. Yeah.”
Having freshly confirmed Cheshire’s gifts, I quietly covered my own drawing paper.
In a world where raw talent marked such a clear boundary between protagonist and side character….
It was rather sad not to be the lead.
“Why hide it? I’ve already seen it.”
“Yeah, I know…. You can laugh….”
“But you said we’d draw jellyfish. So why didn’t you draw one?”
“Huh?”
I tilted my head and looked down at my drawing.
“It’s not a jellyfish?”
When Zeti and June—and even the butler Rem and the Twin Older Brothers after that—kept insisting it was a jellyfish, I just decided to call it one. But now….
“It’s your father, isn’t it?”
…Right. My dad’s face!
“Huh?”
I was startled for a moment, eyes wide as I turned to look at Cheshire.
“D-does this really look like my dad?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow! That’s right!”
There he went—with that sharp insight piercing straight through my profound artistic vision.
Truly, the work of a protagonist.
“Hehe, good then. So I can give this to Dad as a present, right?”
My sour mood lifted, and I looked at the drawing with a warm heart.
“…Do you like your father?”
“Huh? What kind of question is that all of a sudden? He’s my dad, so of course I like—”
…or maybe I don’t. It wasn’t tactful to say such things in front of Cheshire, who’d been abused by his biological father.
“Well, my dad is the kind of person everyone would like. That’s why I like him too.”
“Yeah.”
“My dad’s cool and kind, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then do you want to be our dad’s son?”
I said this to Cheshire, who seemed to envy me.
“What?”
“Your real dad is a bad person. Just because he gave birth to you doesn’t make him a real father. Become our dad’s son.”
That’s where you belong anyway.
Cheshire, whom I was speaking to so straightforwardly, let out a quiet snort.
It was the face of someone mocking the words of a fortunate seven-year-old.
“You don’t believe me? I’m telling you, my dad said he’d definitely become your family.”
“I don’t need it.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t need something like family.”
“…….”
Cheshire’s response was so cold that I carefully closed my mouth.
“I’ve finished all ten drawings. I should sleep now.”
“Oh, yes. Sure.”
Cheshire rose to his feet, holding out the ten sheets of canvas.
“Where do the servants sleep?”
“Why do you want to know where the servants sleep?”
“To sleep.”
I patted the neatly arranged pillow playfully.
“Sleep here with me. Tomorrow I’ll ask Father to have your room set up next to mine.”
“…….”
Cheshire stared at me in bewilderment, his gaze darting between the pillow and my face.
“No. I can’t sleep in a place like this. Tell me somewhere else—somewhere decent I could rest.”
“Now, now, Cheshire. Didn’t you promise to listen to everything I say?”
“…….”
“Lie down.”
I patted the pillow once more, and Cheshire finally sighed in defeat, lowering himself onto the bed.
“See? Isn’t it so soft and fluffy? You’ll sleep wonderfully, I’m sure.”
“…….”
“Sleep well, Cheshire.”
As I propped my chin on my hands and said good night, Cheshire exhaled a long sigh.
Then he closed his eyes.
How long did I watch that bruised face?
The sound of his breathing, steady and even.
Once I was certain Cheshire had fallen completely asleep, I climbed down from the bed.
Then I found the remaining Salvacion—the portion I’d left after giving some to Liko—mixed it with warm water, and soaked a cloth in the solution.
“He won’t wake, will he?”
He had to be exhausted.
With small hands, I carefully wiped away the bruises and cuts on Cheshire’s face.
‘Come on, work your magic.’
The wounds on Cheshire’s skin closed instantly, and in moments, his beautiful face was restored.
“Heh heh.”
I tucked the cloth away and lay prone on the bed, gazing at Cheshire’s sleeping form.
“He said he didn’t need anything like family.”
That’s what he’d said, but……
I knew that Cheshire craved familial bonds more than anyone else.
Abandoned by his mother, abused by his father……
Yet I understood why he had never left them first.
“Listen, Cheshire. I’m going to tell you a secret—one so enormous that only you get to know it.”
I whispered to him in the softest voice, so as not to disturb his sleep.
“You’re the protagonist of this world.”
Hoping that even in his dreams, he might somehow hear my voice.
“The protagonist always faces hardship. But that hardship passes eventually. I won’t let you suffer too much—I’ll help you. And……”
I gently draped the blanket over Cheshire’s sleeping form and made my promise.
“I swear I’ll become your family.”

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