Chapter 2: Father and Son (Part 1)
—Oak Brunhild POV—
[Year: X-182]
I looked at my reflection in the mirror. As always, I looked handsome.
Today was my slaughter day, so I'd donned a sleek black latex suit.
Don't get me wrong—by slaughter, I mean clearing out monsters near the academy.
After the success of my supernatural academy branches, I decided to open one in my hometown—New York. This one, I'd personally lead.
I mean, if I could turn a profit in a country like Colombia, then why not New York?
I chose a forested area for its natural advantages. It allowed students to test their powers by killing monsters in the wild.
Normally, students would handle these tasks when the monster population spiked—but since the building wasn't finished yet, there were no students around to dump the job on.
After checking myself one last time, I stepped out of my newly constructed cabin with a backpack. Behind me, weapons hovered—swords, axes, spears, and a few rifles.
Can you guess what my power is?
If you thought [Levitation], then you're abso—wrong!
My power is [Telekinesis]. I can manipulate objects with my mind.
And when it comes to monster clearing, it's one of the best. I don't even have to lift a finger—the weapons do all the work for me.
I could've scouted the entire forest manually, but that sounded like way too much effort.
There are two things we have that monsters don't:
One is intelligence.
The other is...
I pulled out some bug-like gadgets and a router from my bag. These little things are called spy bugs. They can fly, detect life signatures, and transmit the data straight to the router.
...Yep. Technology. We're a technologically advanced species—why not use it?
I set up the router and activated the bugs.
Soon, life signatures of various sizes popped up on the display.
I was just about to proceed with the slaughter when—
…a massive life signature appeared.
It was so huge the spy bug couldn't calculate it. It overloaded and crashed.
My router followed suit.
There went my investment—down the drain.
I decided I'd kill whatever caused that mess.
But when I reached the location…
...Instead of a monster, I found a golden egg.
It was twice my size.
Assuming it belonged to some monster, I unleashed everything I had on it.
The result?
…Not a single scratch.
Eventually, I got frustrated and left. I'd try again tomorrow.
---
It's now the 158th day of my relentless attacks.
Today, something happened.
Just as one of my spears touched its surface—
Crack.
A large fracture appeared.
I was overjoyed. I thought it was the result of my hard work.
But I was wrong.
The crack expanded… wider and wider.
I realized it wasn't me who caused it.
Something inside was trying to break free.
Crack. Crack.
The cracks kept spreading.
Soon, night fell.
Finally, a part of the egg broke open, and from it came—
—a blinding light that illuminated the entire night.
---
"Oh! That light incident was because of that egg?" Lily exclaimed, suddenly remembering.
Then she noticed Oak's darkened expression. She recalled one of his bad habits—he hated interruptions during storytelling.
"Cough. Sorry. Got a little excited. Please continue."
---
After the light faded, I saw...
...a small, spherical golden orb, its surface constantly shifting.
Hmm. Hmm.
It began to bounce.
I stood there, confused.
Then the orb rose—high above me—and hovered in the sky.
Hmm. Hmm.
It began to orbit me.
After a while, it floated away and started to change.
It contracted and expanded, its form shifting.
Soon, I realized it was taking a humanoid shape.
Just when I thought it was done—
Skin appeared. Then features.
Before me now sat a baby boy.
Lustrous black hair streaked with golden and fiery red strands.
One eye fiery red, the other calm blue.
Milky white skin. A cute face that could make angels weep.
---
"That has to be Noir, right?" Lily blurted again, ruining the mood.
She quickly covered her mouth—but it was too late.
"Please, come sit here and tell the story yourself," Oak growled.
"Sorry…" she mumbled, which somehow softened his anger.
He continued.
---
The baby crawled toward me.
Then he sat at my feet and raised his hands.
Killer shot.
I was overwhelmed by the cuteness.
Before I knew it, I'd scooped him into my arms.
That's when I noticed something odd.
On the ring finger of his right hand was a shifting, multicolored ring. I thought it might be dangerous for a newborn.
I tried to remove it—but no matter what I did, it wouldn't budge.
The baby got annoyed and started slapping me with his tiny hands. It felt like feathers.
"Hahaha… How cute."
His mismatched eyes stared into mine, then slowly closed as he fell asleep on my shoulder.
"Ah… he just came out of the egg. He must be tired."
I didn't know much about kids, but I knew one thing: he needed to be fed.
As a baby, milk was the obvious choice.
Normal milk might not work—but then again, he wasn't exactly normal.
Still, I figured goat milk would be best—nutritious and easy to get, thanks to a friend's Angora goat farm nearby.
Before I knew it, I'd already decided to take care of him.
---
He was easy to care for. Unlike normal babies, he never cried—or maybe it was just my excellent parenting. I am the best, after all.
I consulted a doctor friend who advised:
"If you're using formula, feed him about 6–10 times in a 24-hour period."
So I compromised my sleep and cared for him.
I bought a cradle, baby supplies, and set up everything beside my cabin.
Surprisingly, he never made a sound at night.
"What should I name you, little one?" I asked, watching him closely.
"How about Shiro? It matches your white skin." Slap.
"Haha! Okay, okay… What about Goldy? Matches your right golden eye." Slap.
"Rouge? Like your left crimson eye?" Another slap.
I noticed something: he liked the color black.
So I took a shot in the dark—
"Noir? It's a French word for black."
No slap.
His eyes sparkled.
He was a good boy.
But one thing bothered me.
Whenever he slept, he'd groan and clutch his head with his little hands.
I consulted several doctors—they all said he was normal.
Still… seeing him like that stabbed me in the heart.
He had become such an integral part of my life that I couldn't imagine losing him.
Before I realized it, tears were falling as I held him.
I think he noticed.
He reached up with his tiny hands and wiped my tears.
"Da…da." At just six months old, he spoke his first word.
I was overwhelmed with joy.
"Don't worry, my boy. I won't let anything happen to you. Your old man's got money—we'll find the best doctors. You'll live a good life."
I had already accepted Noir as my son long ago.
And I'd also forgotten...
…that he wasn't a normal baby.
---
Hii, Author Here!
I hope you enjoyed the chapter. If you have any suggestions, feel free to use comments. And if you liked it, then do what you do.
Babaye~