PMEVBO 13

What mattered to me wasn’t that Iser wouldn’t die from starvation, but that the duke had starved that child.

How could anyone have known he possessed a constitution that wouldn’t die from prolonged starvation? Even if he had some rare constitution, someone of a young master’s stature should have lived his entire life unaware of such a fact.

Duke, you piece of trash worse than a dog… just how long did you starve that child…?

It couldn’t have been like this from the start. But once he realized Iser wouldn’t die easily, it must have gradually worsened. From the trigger, through the process, to the conclusion. Not a single part of it wasn’t revolting.

“Ha….”

I had to grit my teeth to suppress the rising rage.

As I said last time, what I needed to do with Iser was praise, not a lecture. Even if a smooth-talker like Bong Kim Seon-dal gave a lecture¹, it’d be unbearable to listen to. What would happen if I, with my lack of eloquence, tried to lecture him awkwardly? It was obvious I’d just end up hurting his feelings.

As someone who had to clear the quest within the time limit, I had no choice but to be careful here. But now, with reason blown away by rage, nothing could control me.

“To be honest. When you used your ability in that room at the top of the spire, I thought you were more like an object than a person.”

“……What did you just say?”

Iser, his face pale, looked up at me like a broken machine, creaking and groaning. I stood with my arms crossed, silently watching him, then slowly continued.

“Back then, you were bound by restraints. You couldn’t move or speak, right?”

“……”

“You were always stuck there, and anyone could just touch you to use your healing ability. So how is that any different from ointment?”

The duke’s method of abusing Iser was cruel, bordering on the grotesque. That bastard didn’t see Iser as human. He probably figured it was easier that way.

Respecting someone as a person is actually quite a hassle. For instance, if you want something from them, be it time or money, you have to employ proper persuasion and coaxing.

But what if you could erase their personhood? Then you wouldn’t need to bother with that effort anymore. You don’t worry about the ointment’s feelings when you apply it. It was the same principle.

Often, special abilities become the power of their possessors. But neither Isabelle nor Iser fully owned the Power of Life. Because the Power of Life was one where the will of its possessors mattered little in its activation.

People could become beneficiaries of that special ability simply by touching Isabelle or Iser. No need to look far for examples, I myself was one. Perhaps it was thanks to this characteristic of the ability that the duke could treat Iser even more thoroughly like a tool.

Iser was breathing roughly, his neck flushed crimson.

“Are you done talking…?”

His eyes were fiery, it felt like he might lunge at me any second.

But Iser never reached out toward me. I’d braced myself for a few blows, but it was useless. My gaze fell on his hands, clenched so tightly around the sofa armrest they’d turned white. I replied.

“No, I’m not done yet. What I really want to say comes next.”

“What?”

I tilted my head to one side and asked.

“Iser, why are you so angry?”

“……Are you messing with me right now?”

His expression said, How could I not be angry after you spewed such nonsense?

“Right. It’s only natural you’re angry.”

“……”

“Because I just treated you like some all-purpose ointment rolling around on the floor, not a person. Even though you barely managed to stay alive thanks to your ability.”

“You know that, and you still…?”

Iser’s face twisted like never before.

“I did it because I wanted to tell you.”

“What exactly? That I’m not a person, but some all-purpose ointment rolling around on the floor?”

“No.”

Iser’s shoulders were heaving, his breath coming in gasps. I looked into his bright blue eyes and continued.

“That when trash treats you like a tool instead of a person, you shouldn’t accept it, you should get angry. I wanted to tell you that.”

“…Do you think I’m such an idiot I wouldn’t know that?”

His wounded pride looked adorable, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I know you’re smart.”

“……”

“But no matter how smart someone is, misfortune finds them in life. That’s what I’m worried about.”

Iser just stared blankly at me, saying nothing.

“You’re healthy enough to survive years of starvation? That’s fortunate.”

“…….”

“But that doesn’t give anyone license to treat you carelessly.”

“…….”

“Being alive isn’t everything, you know.”

While survival instinct is humanity’s foremost priority, people don’t always act solely on that instinct. Sometimes, they move for happiness alone.

Iser had everything beyond survival taken from him by the duke, including meals. Yet, he himself didn’t even feel anger about that.

They say that when a person is exposed to violence for a long time, they unconsciously adopt the logic of that violence. Aside from that, I couldn’t find any other reason why Iser refused food.

I knelt down in front of Iser and looked at him in the eye.

“So, Iser. Treat yourself like a human too.”

“……”

“Only then can I say what I ought to say.”

I embraced Iser, careful not to let our skin touch. I felt the dampness soaking into my shoulder where his face rested. I gently stroked Iser’s back as he wept silently and spoke.

“I’m sorry for using your power without permission.”

“…….”

“And thank you. You saved my life.”

‎

‎

‎

It took an hour for Iser to stop crying. The moment the tears ceased, the child pushed me away and headed straight for the sandwiches and salad.

And so, Iser began his first meal in five years. Since it was his first meal in so long, I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, so I decided to just clean the full-length mirror until he finished eating.

It was about ten minutes later when Iser spoke to me.

“Hey.”

“What? Already finished eating?”

“……Do you like being called ‘Hey’?”

Iser’s ears turned red as he buried his nose in his salad bowl. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Ah, sorry for the late introduction. I’m Lucariel.”

‎

‎

‎

I checked the status window when I went up to the ground floor to prepare lunch.

────【 Sub Quest 】────

Praise ‘Iser Hayut’!

(2/3)

D-8 (213h 30m 42s)

Reward: Skill Draw Ticket (1 x)

────────────────

Without me realizing it, the second praise had been achieved.

“Wait, when exactly did that happen…?”

My sermon seemed to have gone down surprisingly well, but was that really the reason? Who in the world gets happy after being lectured?

As far as I knew, sermons fell into two categories: the really pathetic ones you wanted to ignore completely, and the moderately pathetic ones that were still bearable to listen to.

Then what part exactly made him happy…?

Ah, maybe the food I cooked was absolutely delicious?

My cooking being tasty wasn’t anything new. Even my brother, who can’t boil a single packet of ramen on his own but has a uselessly sophisticated palate, always gave me a thumbs up saying everything I cooked was delicious.

If the food he ate after five years was tasty, it was only natural he’d be happy. Then maybe I could bribe him with food for the remaining praise? I’ll show him why people live to eat.

I might not be good at much, but I was confident in my cooking. That’s why I was certain the final praise was within reach.

Little did I know this day would come…

***

────【 Sub Quest 】────

Praise ‘Iser Hayut’!

(2/3)

D-2 (48h 58m 10s)

Reward: Skill Draw Ticket (1x)

────────────────

I’d had a bad feeling for quite some time. The child’s attitude toward food was different from what I’d expected.

It wasn’t that he was picky. He ate whatever food was given to him with hearty gratitude. But, how should I put it? His attitude toward food was strangely dry, uncharacteristic for his age.

‘Don’t you have anything you want to eat?’

‘Not really?’

‘How about a walnut pie?’

‘Sure.’

And then, when I served the walnut pie.

“…How’s the walnut pie?”

“Not bad.”

That lukewarm response was all I ever got.

This conversation, with only the name of the food changing, repeated itself six times a day. Getting the same reaction no matter what I fed him meant nothing felt special.

But my cooking couldn’t be that bad, right? But I couldn’t just rely on my culinary skills. I started looking for other things I could do for him early on.

The problem was that Iser wasn’t your average kid. Cleaning, laundry, he’d watch me do it once over his shoulder, and then he’d handle it all perfectly on his own from then on. Now he did it better than me, leaving me with nothing to do.

Wait, should a little young master really be this good at cleaning and laundry? Overcome by anxiety, I decided to go back to basics. I decided to try flattering him.

‘You’re really good at dusting.’

‘I know.’

‘You’re good at washing bedding too.’

‘I know that too.’

After much deliberation, every compliment I offered was met with only ‘I know.’ I stubbornly tried to shake things up dozens of times with that kid. Finally, I received a different answer.

‘……Why are you acting like this today? Are you sick?’

‘What if I’m sick, you’d hold my hand or something?’

‘Isn’t that obvious? If you’re sick, who’s going to help me escape?’

He was such a consistent guy.

This is driving me crazy. At this rate, I won’t clear it in time…

I felt like smashing my head against a wall.

1. a 2016 South Korean period satire adventure comedy filmbased on an ancient novel of satire and humor about Kim Seon-dal who sold off the Taedong River.  ↩︎