Chapter 26 -----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: Surviving as the Second Son of a Magical Noble Family
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"It's not bothering you at all? You okay?"
After the dawn meeting ended, Leo said as he dumped the leftover tea.
At his words, Narke, who had stayed behind and was lounging with his chair tilted back, alternated glances between me and Leo.
"Why? Something happen?"
"Lucas has a watcher on him."
Narke's face grew serious at that. He set his chair back down on the floor and raised an eyebrow.
"What? Already? How'd you find out?"
"I heard he went to the post office and asked if the letter from his brother might have gone missing. What'd he say again?"
Leo turned to me. I drained the last cooled sip of my tea and replied.
"Maybe it's not coming to me?"
"Where does he get off with clever tricks like that..."
Leo shook his head and sat back down to brew fresh tea.
It wasn't anything that required much brainpower, but for Leo, who always stuck to the straight and narrow, it was the kind of roundabout question he'd never use in his life, so his reaction made sense. I just nodded.
Unlike Leo, Narke seemed to love the method and burst into laughter.
"Haha! That's a real simple and quick way. So, did you figure out who it is?"
"Nope, gotta check from now on. No point asking outright—they won't answer anyway."
"Want me to look into it?"
"Nah. You'd have to corner people one by one to check."
A Level 2 Insight skill isn't omnipotent.
It only works within the target's perceptual range, so it can't uncover details of events they're unaware of, and the depth of info is limited. Plus, since it's not an AoE spell but one applied per individual, identifying the watcher means confronting them one at a time.
If it had no restrictions, I might ask for help, but it drains mental energy and causes headaches, so that's out too.
Narke smacked his lips and nodded slowly.
"Well, yeah, fair enough. Too bad. Want me to warp Pie inside the post office?"
"What good would warping Pie do?"
Leo let out a hollow laugh.
"He's smart, y'know. Can't read writing well, though."
"What?"
"He talks too. Telling you 'cause it's you, Leo."
Leo was at a loss for words and shot me a troubled glance.
His face said, *What do I even do with this lunatic?*
I almost called him a lunatic myself but just smiled and answered Narke.
"I doubt Pie could pull a ledger from a drawer and flip to the right page. Anyway, thanks for the concern, but I'm good. I can handle it."
"Yeah, sending Pie would be tricky."
"..."
Leo wore an indescribable expression at the nonstop Pie talk.
Narke, deep in thought, suddenly clapped his hands.
"Ah! Why not try a mind manipulation spell?"
"Better avoid magic when possible. Gotta save it for when it's absolutely necessary, so I minimize it beforehand."
"So you're saying you've got a non-magical way to find out."
I nodded at Leo's amused words.
"Exactly."
* * *
Easy.
Just live right without getting caught.
Wake up in the morning, diligently head to special class, attend lectures, eat in my room, head back out for more classes, eat in my room again, and stay put.
*The special class evening study with Leo skipping both might raise eyebrows a bit...*
I played up my poor health to commit to just one mandatory weekly attendance.
Leo had been heading straight to the training grounds ever since becoming a second-year, so even if we shared empty slots, it wouldn't draw much suspicion.
The biweekly organization meetings? Warp there as usual.
That alone keeps info from leaking to them.
One snag, though.
People talking to me.
I scribbled thoughts in my notebook while half-ignoring potion class. The robed professor scanned the students and asked a question.
"Before magic emerged, what connection existed between the Wittelsbach family and medicine? Not you, Leonard—someone else answer."
Laughter rippled from the students and Leo. The professor paused dramatically before turning to me.
"The one who aced the written exam—care to answer? Lucas Ascanien."
I set down my pen, stood, smiled, and gave a simple reply.
"There was no significant connection in the pre-magic era."
"Correct. I bring this up because today's lesson is on the wound treatment potion developed by the Wittelsbach family—the first magic potion post-magic emergence, one that reshaped the history of magical medicine and potionology..."
Situations like this, where I have to speak up.
Prime time for anyone to notice my changes.
*Midterms bumped up the spotlight on me.*
Not just potions.
All seven perfect-score subjects showed the same pattern.
Plus, Leo mentioned students starting to approach out of curiosity.
That Class 1-A kid who greeted me in special class yesterday was probably one. Who knows how many more like that ahead. And the watcher would be keeping tabs then too.
But I can't keep up the first-year Lucas act every time just to dodge one snitch. That'd tank my image again.
Brother would've seen my changes via yellow journalism or local rags anyway.
Cleaned-up appearance, normal chats with people, etc.
No need to fake freshman mode, but constant change reports etching into his brain isn't ideal either.
*Gotta check today.*
I closed my notebook and focused on class.
* * *
I collected notebooks from the students and left the classroom. Even post-mids, their note-taking had to continue. Had to maintain this level through finals anyway.
Ate dinner in the dorm, then trudged listlessly to the library.
I stopped now and then, craning my neck to scan around. Not even seven yet, so the paths teemed with people.
Students eyed my sudden halts and wary looks curiously as they passed.
Read for hours in the library, then bolted out an hour before midnight.
By now, scarce few souls around. I scanned all directions, fast-walked from the main library gate to the back one, then sprinted blindly toward the path to Building 3.
When my breath hit my throat, I braced my knees, caught it, then sprinted full-tilt again.
I paused, glanced back.
Empty street.
Checked surroundings, spotted my shoelace untied—stepped on by the other foot—ducked into an alley to retie it. Untied the good one too, retied both. Time to stall.
Stood, stepped forward deliberately crunching a small pebble on the ground.
Nighttime—or lack of people—amplified every tiny sound. Perfect for signaling my position.
One more corner, and the park at the school edge comes into view. I widened my stride, turned sharply. The instant the park appeared, I whipped back the way I came.
Boom—!
"Agh!"
"Yeah... getting caught this quick is impressive. Almost brings a tear—didn't think you'd slip up at this stage."
I slammed my pursuer against the wall and gripped hard.
The stranger shook his head in panic.
"Wh-what...!"
"Nice job sneaking up with the silence spell."
"Let go!"
He twisted his arm. I shoved him into the wall again and asked quietly.
"Who are you?"
"Wh-what do you mean, who...?!"
"Who sent you? Who told you to move this sloppily?"
This wasn't the letter recipient.
The letter guy had tasked this student in turn.
Brother doesn't pick sloppy operators.
I coined 'watcher' myself, but his letter wouldn't explicitly say monitor me—not one sentence. What if the recipient betrayed him?
Other recipients' letters would mirror mine: warm worry for the brother, packed with brotherly concern. One line about fretting over a study-obsessed sibling forgetting health, asking to relay welfare now and then.
Given my shyness toward brother, hearing updates isn't odd. He'd have mentioned that. All logic sound.
If the recipient hadn't overinterpreted brother's intent, things would've gone smoothly.
Without intimate knowledge, digging into hidden motives breeds discord. How, with what confidence, do you weigh countless variables and their priorities?
The recipient misread.
Turned innocent 'keep tabs on his well-being' into 'spy on the Pleromaine day'.
Partly true.
But not spelling out surveillance has reasons. If probing intents, you'd factor that.
*Brother misplayed this time.*
Picking the wrong guy exposed it all.
*Time to think what brother wants.*
What brother needs here: why the shift in grades *and* attitude?
Self-driven change for independence, or external cause?
Must pinpoint.
If first, his 20-year system crumbles someday—prep now.
So he's eyeing that possibility.
But blatant watcher screams malice in that case.
Thus, this recipient cleverly played dumb.
The student shook his head violently and yelled.
"Sent me? No! No one told me to...!"
"Bull. No such thing."
Someone brother trusts, knows us both enough—or can—for welfare checks.
Student doesn't fit the intersection. Pass one criterion, snag on the other.
I stared into his eyes and said.
"It's a professor. One from Imperial Second Academy told you to watch me. Right?"
I smiled, tightened my grip on his shoulder. His face went sheet-white.
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