My Daddy Hides His Power - Chapter 68

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Father hides his strength
Episode 68
All the children were clapping as they watched us….
Wait, they were all busy chattering among themselves just a moment ago—when exactly did they start paying us this much attention?
“Ahem.”
I felt my face flush. I scratched my cheek sheepishly and slipped into my seat.
Cheshire looked embarrassed too, his hand covering his forehead as he averted his gaze.
I quietly jabbed him in the ribs.
“Did my sincerity come across…?”
“Yeah, I got it.”
“Then I’m relieved.”
“Sigh.”
Cheshire sighed and covered his face with both hands.
“What was that girl’s name again?”
“Oh? Ah, Jemian Traha!”
“Right. I’ll look her up during Practical Training later.”
“Really? That’s awesome!”
My delighted expression made Cheshire look at me with obvious disapproval.
“Don’t misunderstand, alright? I just heard she’s having some trouble with Theory Education, and I thought—maybe if a smart person like you helped her out?”
“Theory? She can’t memorize the spell formulas?”
“Yeah. She’s hopeless at math.”
Jemian Traha, a commoner, had been a friend Cheshire met back at the Academy.
In the original story, Cheshire entered the Academy at thirteen.
Jemian….
‘She had Grade Retention until age thirteen. Then she met Cheshire and barely graduated after getting private lessons from him.’
The tedious Academy education process had been skipped entirely in the novel—either for pacing or some other reason.
So all I knew was….
That Jemian is at the Academy right now, the same age as Cheshire—eleven years old.
That she has red hair and ash-gray eyes.
That she flunks Theory tests repeatedly, but shows real promise in Body Technique Practical Training?
‘Jemian Traha is a total monster. I have to make sure to find her and help her graduate from the Academy safely.’
After all, with just her fists alone, she would go on to accomplish tremendous feats—a symbolic figure representing the latent strength of the lower classes!
* * *
On my way back to my room after the Fist Arts Theory Education class.
‘What on earth…?’
I couldn’t close my mouth at the sight before me.
“You arrogant commoner scum!”
“Are you insane? Do you have a death wish?!”
“Hit her more! Harder!”
Five noble boys had someone pinned to the ground, pummeling them mercilessly.
The familiar face curled up, enduring the barrage of kicks without resistance.
“J-Jem?”
…The white Nameplate from our room.
It was Jem.
“Hey!”
I shouted and bolted toward them, and the children stopped kicking.
“What’s wrong with you all?!”
And among those arrogant faces was, of course….
“Oh, it’s you again?”
Bruce, the Academy’s resident thug, was standing right there.
“You okay, Jem? Can you stand?”
I pushed past the stunned boys and helped Jem to her feet.
Fortunately, since I’d spotted them so quickly, it didn’t look like she was seriously hurt.
“That’s it!”
I spun around sharply.
The startled children flinched and instinctively shrank back.
“Why did you hit Jem?!”
“W-well, she deserved to be hit!”
“That’s exactly what I’m asking—what was she supposed to have done?!”
I thrust my face close to Bruce’s and growled menacingly.
“That commoner hit me across the face!”
“What?”
Indeed. Bruce’s left cheek was swollen tight, his lip split and bleeding.
Jemian was a girl, but as someone repeating her grade, she was eleven and already taller and broader than her peers.
On top of that, she specialized in Body Technique, specifically Fist Arts—
‘That had to have hurt.’
I turned to face her.
“Why’d you hit Bruce?”
“Because he hit me first, you little bastard.”
Jemian glared at Bruce, grinding her teeth.
I turned back to Bruce.
“You ran your shoulder into him as you passed. If you’d done that, you should’ve apologized and bowed—instead you just glared at him like some kind of punk. That’s rich.”
“Why should I? You’re the one who deliberately walked close to someone who was minding their own business, bumped them, and started trouble. Damn it, am I your plaything?”
“What? Did a lowborn commoner’s mind break? You actually want to die?”
“Enough. Stop.”
I pushed my way between them.
The situation was crystal clear.
“Bruce—you saw his white Nameplate and just felt like picking a fight, didn’t you? That’s why you bumped him.”
“…….”
“Answer me.”
“S-so what? Whether I pick a fight with a commoner or not—”
“Right. I’m not saying it’s a problem. It’s not. Here, Nameplate Color is the law.”
“Exactly! You’ve finally adapted?”
“So when Jemian didn’t apologize, you decided to hit her first out of spite?”
“Yes! You should’ve seen how cool I was. Gave her a real crack across the cheek!”
“Then Jemian was acting in self-defense.”
Bruce must have been stunned—getting his face slapped by a commoner.
His friends standing nearby saw it as their chance and started beating Jemian mercilessly.
“All of you. Line up.”
“Huh?”
“I said line up. Come on.”
I raised my small hand sharply to threaten them, and Bruce flinched.
“You’re not going to?”
After one more warning, the five children shuffled into a line.
I placed my hands behind my back and paced in front of them like a training instructor.
“Listen up. From this moment on, you don’t pick fights with white Nameplates for no reason.”
“What?”
“Did I tell you to speak?”
“No, sir.”
Bruce hunched his shoulders.
“Second, you don’t use violence carelessly.”
“…….”
“Everyone acknowledge this time.”
“Okay.”
“Yes!”
“Uh-huh!”
I don’t like violence.
I don’t like crushing people beneath hierarchy.
But sadly, there are times when you must use force and wield violence to push someone down.
Exactly like this—with those who will never be saved by words alone.
Crack—!
“Ow!”
I kicked Bruce’s shin, the one standing at the far left.
“Does it hurt?”
“Why—why are you hitting me, hitting—”
“Why did you pick a fight with Jemian, hit her face, and all gang up on her?”
“…….”
“There’s no reason, right? Except that his Nameplate Color is lower than yours.”
“…….”
“Same goes for me. So don’t make that hurt expression, yeah?”
I proceeded to strip the shin of the next thug in line.
Crack, crack, crack, crack—!
“Ughh.”
“Owww….”
“Ow, ow, ow.”
“Urgh.”
And then—
“Listen well.”
I placed both hands on my hips and thrust my belly forward to cut an imposing figure before I spoke.
“For multiple people to use violence against one person is deeply cowardly. Moreover, as nobles who ought to set an example for others, it is a shameful act.”
“Um, well… that’s true, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“But what does ‘set an example’ mean?”
“I don’t know either. Be quiet.”
“You lot each took a blow from me today, but compared to the punishment for attacking one person so cowardly, you got off remarkably light.”
The children all looked down, watching my face nervously.
“If anything like this happens again, I won’t stop at your shins.”
None of them said a word.
“Do you understand!”
“Y-yes, sir!”
“We understand!”
“Wait, why the formal speech…, yes, sir!”
Satisfied, I turned to Jemian.
She had been standing with a dazed expression, but the moment our eyes met, she startled and quickly looked away.
I took Jemian’s hand.
“Come here. Let’s go to the infirmary together.”
* * *
I came back to the room with Jemian after picking up a first-aid kit from the infirmary.
Looking closely, her arms and legs were covered in quite a few scrapes.
“Sigh, the world’s gone to ruin, truly gone to ruin….”
As I crouched in front of Jemian, who sat on the bed, and applied medicine to her leg, I felt a gaze on me and looked up.
Jemian, who had been staring intently at me, quickly turned her head away.
“I-I can do it myself.”
“No. Let me do it.”
I finished checking her wounds.
“…Thank you.”
“Huh? So you can say thank you?”
“I c-can when I want to! It’s just… I don’t like mixing words with nobles.”
“It’s not like there are only kids like Bruce around. Don’t be so wary of nobles from the start.”
“Tch.”
Jemian snorted derisively. Then she glanced down slightly—
“…Like you?”
—and asked.
I couldn’t help but smile.
“Yeah, like me!”
This prickly little kitten reminded me of someone.
“Let’s have a snack together. Did you eat the Chocolate I gave you this morning?”
“…Yeah.”
I quickly closed the medicine bottles and brought out a heap of Cookies and Macarons from the snack box.
After setting out Juice from the dining hall as well, I’d arranged quite a nice little snack spread on the bed.
“Hehe.”
I sat across from Jemian and inserted a straw into the Juice before handing it to her.
“Drink up. Have some Cookies too.”
Jemian, though hesitant, accepted what I offered her.
It pained me that Jemian had been beaten, but I found myself grateful for this chance to grow closer to her.
“Jemian, let’s go to the dining hall together from now on.”
“…….”
“You don’t want to?”
“…I’ll think about it.”
“Tsk.”
I pursed my lips and sucked on the juice loudly.
Jemian glanced at my disappointed expression, then muttered something under her breath.
“Fine….”
“Really? You mean it?”
“Yeah.”
“Hee-hee. So, should we introduce ourselves properly? My name is Lilis Rubinstein.”
Commons had surnames too, but the Academy didn’t write theirs on the Nameplates.
They didn’t do proper identity management at all, really.
Many children went by misspelled names or nicknames taken directly from their admission forms.
So I’d wanted to know Jemian’s full name for a while now, but whenever I asked, she’d ignore me….
‘Maybe she’ll tell me her name now?’
I felt heat rise to my cheeks under Jemian’s steady gaze and sucked on the juice again to cover my embarrassment.
After a moment, Jemian extended her hand toward me as if to shake.
I was so thrilled I lunged forward to grab it—
“…Jemian Traha.”
“Pfft!”
—and sprayed juice straight across her face.

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