The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 293: Confession (3)

Vikir was distracted for a moment.

'...Esse, Non Videri.'

To exist, but not to be seen.

Two heirs to the next pinnacle of the Bourgeois Family.

One was Juliet, the daughter of the second son Demian, and the other was the child of the eldest son, Bartolomeo.

Gender unknown, age unknown, nothing known.

'Coincidentally, my brother and I both have only one daughter.'

If it weren't for Demian's words, I wouldn't have known that Bartolomeo's child was a daughter.

Demian's daughter, Juliet, was revealed to the world when she dropped out of the exam, but no one knew where Bartolomeo's daughter was or what she was doing.

It was unclear if she even existed.

'Sinclair was Bartolomeo's daughter.'

Vikir stroked his chin in thought.

For some reason, Juliet had seemed so familiar when he first saw her.

Perhaps it was because they shared the same blood.

'Then I think I know why she disappeared from the world after graduation.'

After graduating from the Colosseo Academy, Sinclair probably became the patriarch of a Bourgeois family.

She would have moved about the world behind a great veil of darkness, unseen by the world.

An upper class so distant that lower-class warriors like Vikir before his regression could not dare to have an audience with them, or even knew that they existed at all.

The VVIPs of the world.

... But even the tree that would grow so tall in the future is only a tiny leaf now.

"Hyung-ah, what do you think of me?"

Sinclair had asked this awkward question while sobbing in his arms.

Sinclair's question brought Vikir back to reality.

"...Now. What is the purpose of asking this question?"

A question about what you think can't really be a question about what you think.

Vikir is not stupid.

On the contrary, he prided himself on being pretty quick on his feet.

At Vikir's retort, Sinclair pursed her lips and rubbed her eyes before answering with a grimace.

"Because being in a relationship with hyung-ah is the only accomplishment I want to accomplish before I drop out and leave the Academy."

An accomplishment...?

Vikir's mouth opened halfway.

Was dating really such a big deal that it sounded like an achievement?

But Sinclair seemed to have something else in mind.

" ... Originally, I was going to finish my fourth year, get my diploma, and then turn my back on the world. 'Excellent GPA,' 'numerous extracurricular awards,' 'valedictorian all four years,' 'student council president,' 'graduate of Colosseo Academy.' I figured those were the most valuable things I could get out of school, out of my youth."

Sinclair laughed bitterly for a moment before continuing.

"So I didn't understand her at first, because I had a cousin who dropped out of the academy she attended."

She must be referring to Juliet, who had attended Themiscyra Academy for Girls.

Sinclair squeezed Vikir's hand a little harder.

"But I think I know how you feel now, because I've changed my mind. The most valuable thing you can gain from school life is not grades, diplomas, awards, or certifications."

It's the memories you make with the people you're with.

Sinclair's eyes were filled with conviction.

Vikir asked thoughtfully.

"Why do you put such value on me? I'm not good enough for that."

"If you think about it that way, what kind of person am I?"

Sinclair emptied a can of beer and cupped it in her hand.

"...You are. I wonder how long I've had a crush on you. I wonder, too. Let's see."

She closed her eyes and opened her mouth with clear pronunciation and a pure voice.

What she experienced, centered around her, from her perspective.

Slowly, Sinclair's mouth began to recite the memories of her freshman year in class 20.

* * *

'Why do I have to go out?'

The little girl asks the old butler while hugging her teddy bear.

The butler simply bows his head politely and replies.

'When you grow up and come back, everything will be yours.'

With those last words, the little girl leaves the family home.

Nursery school. The little girl studied diligently. When other children were defeated or discouraged, she always glowed with enthusiasm and hope.

A prestigious small school. The girl was discriminated against as soon as she entered the school. Whether it's her performance on performance evaluations, even if cleaning duty returns strangely often, there is also subtle discrimination, gossip, and harassment that is invisible to the eye. The girl persevered.

The outcome wasn't always fair, but on the whole, in retrospect, it was pretty fair.

All the discrimination faded away in the face of excellence and continued proof.

The kids who gossiped behind her back gradually became eager to make friends with her, and the teachers who looked at her with prejudice because she was from a nursery school gradually became favorites.

Her appearance, which began to glow with age, changed everything.

Soon, against all odds, she had risen to the occasion, and at an unusually young age, she was granted early admission to the Colosseo Academy, the most prestigious university in the Empire.

At the top of her class.

She was thrilled that her skills would be recognized in such a large place.

And the much-anticipated Colosseo Academy.

'Survive somehow, and rise above. If they help you, use them, if they don't, discard them mercilessly.'

She thought back to the words her father had spoken to her as a child, and took the freshman oath.

And her first class.

There was no student smarter than her.

Even at the most prestigious universities in the empire, she could hold her own.

She breathed a sigh of relief at that realization.

Then.

A boy caught her eye.

At first glance, he was ordinary. Messy hair that is not easily noticeable. A common name that could be found everywhere. So-so grades and interview performance.

But in the class that followed, the boy gave the professor, who purposely picked questions for students to get wrong, a good smack in the face.

'...Hmm. I see. A perfect score on the paper.'

The boy's written grade, even the picky professor recognized, was a perfect score. It was even higher than the girl's score of 931 out of 990.

The girl's next highest score was in the 700s, so the difficulty level of the test was, needless to say, the worst. However, there was a perfect score and it wasn't the girl.

From then on, the girl was curious about the boy.

That was the first time, maybe. It was the first time she felt like she wanted to get to know someone.

The girl is objectively pretty and has a good body. She was attractive not only intellectually but also physically. She is in a good position to benefit from interpersonal relationships.

So she was confident when she approached the boy. She was confident that he wouldn't dislike her.

But she had always been approached by others, but this is the first time you have approached someone else. So the girl spoke to the boy in a slightly awkward manner.

'Hey, I'm....'

She asked him why he was volunteering. The boy's answer was simple.

"I'm here for my demerit points.'

'...ah.'

Usually, when people are asked why they volunteer, the answers are obvious.

Fulfillment, giving back, sacrifice, etc.... all sound good.

But not the boy.

A boy who walks away like he's a bother.

The girl followed him, feeling a bit out of place, as this was the first time she had ever been treated this way.

'It's a coincidence that we're both volunteering at the same place.'

'I guess so.'

Actually, it wasn't.

The girl had gone out of her way to beg and plead with the person in charge to get the same volunteer assignment as the boy.

And that day, she thought she'd gotten to know him a little bit. Because she talked to him.

After bombarding him with questions about his written grades and not getting any answers that she liked, she thought he was a bit of a prick.

But.

Despite the demerit points, the boy was very eager to volunteer.

She was amazed to see him do the dirty work that would take dozens of people to do, like cleaning toilets, serving meals in the cafeteria, fixing plumbing, doing laundry, playing with kids, and maintaining the playground.

'... This guy is good.'

That was the first time in her life she had ever genuinely complimented someone.

From that day forward, the way she called him changed.

'Hi! Good morning!'

'?'

'Oppa, why don't you pretend to know me!'

'I didn't realize you were addressing me, and we're classmates, so don't call me oppa.'

'Why? I'm a year younger than you, and you're still my oppa, no matter how you say it.'

'It's just that it's uncomfortable to hear....'

'Really? If you don't like it, we can call you something else. I'll think about it until lunch.'

From then on, the girl started calling the boy 'Hyung-ah'.

'You don't have much of an immunity to girls, do you?'

The girl was surprised.

The boy's bare face, revealed when the bushy hair that often covered his face was shaken, was shockingly handsome.

She could only shake her head in disbelief, thinking that he must have attracted several girls already.

Whatever. From then on, whenever she saw him, she often assumed she knew him.

Maybe it was from that moment on.

The moment she stopped calling him 'oppa', which everyone else liked, and started calling him 'hyung-ah', which was a bit unusual.

The moment when the boy have someone who calls him by a special nickname.

Could it be that the girl's defenses, which she didn't even know existed until now, has begun to shift?

When she approached him with a strange emotion she didn't recognize, he said something shocking about parents.

'I don't need parents. You have to navigate the world on your own. Parents only function during childhood when help from others is essential, and are unnecessary beyond that.'

The girl was a little shocked that anyone in the world would think this way.

Whether in a nursery or a prestigious school, children's thoughts were always the same.

Love for parents.

Whether it's lacking or fulfilled, children always draw on it, because so did the girl.

But boys didn't.

And so she came to admire him. And she also pitied him.

A lot of things happened after that.

They drank together and got part-time jobs. When she watched him save his friends from an accident during midterms, she felt her heart beat hard.

It was the same when students from her cousin's sister's school attacked her on the train to the University League.

'Thank you for helping me earlier, I was really scared. They seem like strong sisters.'

'I was scared too.'

The boy's nonchalance made her laugh out loud and genuinely.

And then she thought.

This boy in front of her is the only one who can open up and close down her heart like that.

* * *

"I suppose it's not much of a surprise, now that you mention it."

Sinclair rubbed the corners of her eyes and laughed.

Vikir remained silent for a while after Sinclair finished speaking.

Perhaps the awkward silence was too much to bear. Sinclair spoke again.

"And... I'm telling you the biggest problem I have right now. I'm confessing it, and I'm telling you what it looks like."

"...."

"Like I said, Night Hound killed my father, and I don't know if you'll believe it, but Student Council President Dolores was right next to him."

"...."

"The only person I trusted in school was in league with the man who killed my father. I don't know who to trust, my friends, my professors, I don't know who to trust, and that's why it's so hard to be at school."

Sinclair finished and looked up.

"I thought maybe you'd believe me, since you've been writing a column in the newspaper criticizing the Night Hunters for a while now, and I'm sure you'd know what a heinous criminal night hound is."

"...."

"You're the only one I have now who will understand me...."

Sinclair dropped her head, unable to finish her sentence.

Only to squeeze Vikir's sleeve.

But.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I can accept your heart."

Vikir shook his head firmly.

For a moment, Sinclair's grip on Vikir's sleeve tightened.

"I know. That's what I thought hyung-ah would say."

"...."

"I've only ever seen one person with eyes like yours, and that's my father."

Sinclair said.

"He's the kind of man who pushes forward with a goal that a normal person like me can't even fathom. I can see it in your eyes. You're the same kind of man my father is."

"...."

"I'm pretty, fit, and young. I'm good with a sword and magic. And most of all, I have the ability and patience to understand and support you in all aspects of your life. I won't get in your way. I'll be really good."

"...."

"...Why can't I? What can I do? What can I do to make hyung-ah realize that I...."

At that point, Vikir cut Sinclair off.

"Now is not the time to think about things like relationships."

It makes sense. A demon hunter's idea of a relationship is something his dead comrades would laugh at.

There's nothing more unsettling than a man who doesn't know when he's going to die building a family.

What you must protect and what you cannot lose will only become a weakness.

Vikir shook his head thoughtfully, and Sinclair's expression brightened slightly.

"...'Now?'"

"?"

Vikir looked up, and Sinclair hit the nail on the head again.

"Not right now, you mean, 'for now'. So you'll have some time to spare later, after you've achieved your goal?"

"My goal is a long, long way off. I'm still a long way from reaching it...."

"I know. For someone of your stature to say that, it must be a grand ambition."

Sinclair looked determined.

"Then one day, when you've accomplished everything you want."

"...."

"Will you take me in then?"

It was an awkward question.

Vikir thought about it for a moment, then nodded.

"If that day ever comes."

"Okay, then."

Sinclair nodded, slipping out of Vikir's arms and sitting up on her knees.

She lifted the can of beer in her hand and downed the last of it in one shot.

Vikir quietly rose from his seat.

"It's getting late, I'd better get back."

Then. Sinclair got up and followed Vikir. And then she opened her mouth.

" ..., can you at least give me a hug before you go?"

At those words, Vikir swallowed hard.

Still a small, young girl. But one who would one day stand at the pinnacle of that fearsome conglomerate Bourgeois family.

How many hardships and trials did this weak child go through before regression to become a great hero whose name was not revealed to the world?

Feeling guilty and indebted to Sinclair, Vikir closed his eyes tightly.

Then.

Tud.

Sinclair wrapped her arms around Vikir's waist.

"You can push it away for the rest of your life."

"...."

"So just for now. for now, I need you to stay like this."

There is moisture in the thinly trembling voice.

"Haha...I wasn't really this kind of person...."

Her muttering, self-effacing and cool, is obscured by Vikir's chest puffs.

Vikir paused for a moment, deep in thought.

'I don't have much time left to stay here either.'

Like Sinclair, Vikir planned to leave Colosseo Academy soon.

His next stop would be a place so harsh and difficult that it would make the Academy feel like a cradle.

Similar in appearance to the Colosseo's architecture, which symbolized glory and prosperity, but its symbolic meaning is completely different.

A fearsome structure that reigns as a testament to hardship and trial itself.

'...Nouvelle Vague. And the Age of Destruction.

The curtain rises.

Soon the full-scale war against the demons will begin.