The Mansion Awaits Spring - Chapter 162

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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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Episode 162
Before losing consciousness.
Pejin lay in the ruins of the factory with his eyes closed, letting stray thoughts drift past without holding them.
“Should I go back?”
With nothing left to cough up, his throat barely moved. Even if his voice had come out, it wouldn’t have been sincere.
He spoke a whispered reflex, the unconscious pull toward survival that any beast might make—”should I go back?”
Because it came from true unconsciousness, the moment awareness flickered back, he rejected it.
‘I’m tired.’
He just wanted to fall asleep like this. That desire felt closer to the truth.
April.
Thinking of her made him smile, again and again.
She would surely tell him to come back alive, no matter what. So he should go back—but even as that thought took shape, doubt crowded in.
If I came back alive, you wouldn’t love me anyway, would you? You’d hate me. You despise me.
Even if, just possibly, you did come to love me—you still wouldn’t accept it.
When he thought like that, the desire to simply sleep returned, overwhelming and fierce.
He moved his hand with effort, dragging it across the dirt, checking the position of the ring.
The one thing that pleased him—at least he could die as the husband of the woman he loved.
He found satisfaction in that and decided this was far enough.
If I’m born again, I won’t be hated from the start. I won’t be born as Miller Dieusz’s younger brother.
He made that vow.
How he might manage such a thing, he had no idea.
In any case, once he died here, he believed public sentiment would turn toward the pitiful young bride who had lost her husband.
When they met again in the next life, he would boast.
See? It was a good idea to marry me.
Wasn’t it?
* * *
August Lilyhill, the Emperor of Rasa, was heading toward the hospital room where Pejin Dieusz lay.
Over the past few days, he had received reports on the circumstances of the factory accident.
There had been similar incidents before, but never an explosion so violent that it was visible from outside the factory grounds.
The police investigating the accident had concluded it was a human disaster—a valve that should have been locked tight was found loose.
Moreover, they discovered traces of an outsider entering the premises: Jonah Tabishi, the president of Tabishi Company, which operated the gas business in the Dieusz Grand Duchy.
The police had further uncovered evidence that Jonah Tabishi had wanted to supply the gas buried alongside the crude oil himself.
When considering the bribes exchanged in the process, the culprit in the accident could be considered confirmed.
Whether by negligence or intent, it was the work of that outsider, Jonah Tabishi.
The accident had inflicted tremendous damage on the Emperor.
First and foremost, the honor of the imperial house had been instantly tarnished.
The imperial-owned factory underground in the Lunos Fiefdom, and the possible connection between that factory and the fog that had appeared on Right Island—this link was spreading through the newspapers and becoming increasingly fixed as certainty in the minds of Rasa’s citizens.
Each time August Lilyhill saw people reading newspapers through windows, his expression hardened without thought.
He had always believed that the ignorance of citizens brought stability to the nation. Newspapers often made citizens aware of far too much.
Of course, through this incident, the disgrace that “the Emperor built a factory on the land of a poor orphan girl and exploited it” might become an indelible stain.
But ultimately, the factory was built on Right Island, and its substantial profits had flowed to this land all along—a fact the Empire’s citizens would come to learn.
Once they did, they would close their eyes, and they would come to depend inwardly on the Emperor who had brought them that stability.
For in the end, were humans not creatures who chose the easier path?
Closing one’s eyes for just a moment before what one believed to be ‘right’ was easier than deliberately walking the harder road.
He thought this way, and he had taught Pejin the same. In that sense, it was strange that Pejin would assume such risk.
Rian Ragnar, who had been ordered to carry the unconscious Pejin out of the factory, spoke to the Emperor with a melancholy expression.
“Until the very end, Pejin was concerned for the Empire.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. There were numerous guests from the Empire present, and with the weather being unusually windy at that time, he was worried that by some chance a severe fog might develop and reach Rasa Empire itself.”
Even as he listened, the Emperor had harbored doubt about Pejin.
Why did he run into the factory?
Why would he do something so dangerous?
Fortunately, he was able to find his answer as he listened to Rian’s gloomy explanation.
The Emperor himself had received reports that this fog might envelop the Empire. Pejin, who had overseen the management of the fog on Right Island, would surely have heard the same report.
The researchers said the probability was very low, so the Emperor had decided it was better to dismiss that slim possibility and secure profit instead.
But Pejin was not a cautious man by nature.
In that dangerous moment when the accident occurred at the factory, he rushed in.
The Emperor spoke softly, tenderly stroking Pejin’s hair.
“The greatest loss I’ve suffered from this accident is this child.”
Rian lowered his head heavily as he spoke.
“There is almost no possibility of recovery. I sent the life support discontinuation consent form to April Lunos.”
“Is there truly no hope?”
“Yes, most likely…”
Rian continued.
“Until the moment he entered the factory, Pejin… no, he acted for Your Majesty.”
“Is that so? And I didn’t even know of such devotion.”
August Lilyhill sighed. He sat in the chair Rian had brought and caressed Pejin’s face again and again.
The face, appearing to sleep peacefully, seemed pitiful to him. It felt sorrowful to let the child go like this.
The Emperor had sought to use him, but he had loved him too.
From the moment Pejin first came running into his arms until now, he had been constant. Always beautiful, always impudent, always yearning for love.
Beautiful yet yearning for love—it was a dangerous combination. As far as August knew, none of those kind of people had lived a smooth life.
August asked Rian.
“When will the consent form be returned?”
“Ah, April Lunos is bringing it herself. She should have arrived by now, but the sea appears to be rough.”
“Then we must see her face before we let him go.”
“Yes. April Lunos… I don’t even know what to say to her.”
The Emperor nodded in agreement with Rian’s sorrowful tone.
He asked Rian.
“Of course you’ll let him go, won’t you?”
“Yes. I’ve thoroughly explained that he’s been unconscious for over a month and has no chance of regaining consciousness in the future.”
“Then, Rian…”
Even before the Emperor finished speaking, Rian felt his nerves sharpen.
He hadn’t heard the rest, yet it was as if he had. As if he could already hear what came next.
The Emperor continued.
“If by any chance she refuses consent, do it with your own hands. Don’t let him suffer any longer.”
“…Pardon?”
“People tend to remember deaths more keenly when they’re tragic, don’t they?”
The Emperor spoke, still caressing Pejin’s cheek with a gentle hand.
“Just as you still pity your young sister.”
“…”
“Keep your friend close to your heart as well.”
When the Emperor mentioned his dead younger sister, Rian felt a tightening rope pressing down alongside that voice.
The Emperor vaguely knew of Rian’s thirst for vengeance. The command to kill his friend might have been a test of his loyalty.
The Emperor rose to his feet as he spoke.
“Pejin will remain a hero of the Empire. He will go down in history as a policeman who gave his life for the citizens of Rasa. What better life could there be than this?”
Rian recalled when Pejin had asked him to make him a hero of the Empire.
As far as Rian knew, there was no one else in this world who understood the Emperor so well.
Throughout just over twenty years of living, no one had served the Emperor and checked him as Pejin Dieusz had.
So he must have anticipated this situation—the action of turning people’s gaze away from the imperial house’s fault and toward a tragic hero. And he would have hoped that Rian would at least go along with the Emperor’s thinking.
Rian lowered his head and answered.
“Yes, I will do so. If Pejin can remain a hero in history, as his friend I could ask for nothing more. His death will never be in vain.”
“Yes, you’re right.”
Having said that, the Emperor caressed the child he would see no more, the one he held dear, wearing his fingers thin on her skin, kissed him several times over, and left the hospital room.
“Hah…”
After the Emperor left, Rian collapsed beside Pejin’s bed, drained.
“You can’t die like this. You helped me. Don’t wipe the slate clean.”
He muttered that, then lifted his head and looked at Pejin.
“Wake up. I need my ally.”
His heart felt as though it were being charred on a fire—kindled by rage and sorrow standing before his dying friend.
Suddenly he wondered what April Lunos, heading toward Left Island at that very moment, was feeling.
Would she even be able to walk properly? Should he have gone to meet her? he thought.
The door suddenly flew open.
As Rian turned to look back, he realized that everything he had imagined about April Lunos’s feelings was wrong.
She was angry at Pejin. Unexpectedly angry.

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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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