Trash of the Count's Family Chapter 3: When I Opened My Eyes (2)

Translator: miraclerifle

Editor: Borderline Masochist

Cale glanced around at the array of dishes spread out before him. Next, he directed his fork toward a salad featuring unfamiliar fruits. Having already satisfied his hunger with meat, soup, and bread, he felt eager to sample something different.

The fruit resembled an orange in shape, yet its hue was more akin to grapes. Cale slipped the fruit into his mouth and bit down.

“Mm.”

Right away, the sweet juice from the fruit flooded his mouth. Since he despised sour fruits intensely, this intensely sweet taste prompted him to salivate without thinking.

Just then, his gaze met that of his father, Deruth, who was observing him.

“Cale.”

Deruth softly uttered Cale’s name, pausing briefly. Then, his brow furrowed as he appeared ready to speak further. Disliking the tense vibe, Cale broke the silence first.

“It’s delicious.”

“Yes, it tastes like trash...huh? Did you say it is delicious?”

“Yes. Everything tastes wonderful.”

This time, Cale selected another fruit and grinned after the sweetness once more delighted his taste buds. The trash of the family, Cale Henituse, had never bothered with proper etiquette anyway.

He ought to refrain from such behavior during a conversation with his father, the household leader, but so what? He was trash from the start.

‘It really is best to be the trash.’

No one truly minded whatever antics he pulled off. Provided he avoided a thrashing from the protagonist, life would turn out fine.

As Cale anticipated, not a soul reprimanded his rude manners. Instead, Deruth’s face lit up with a smile as he nodded approvingly.

“Yes, it really is delicious. It is nice to see you enjoying food so much.”

Deruth appeared to be the sole family member who genuinely cared about Cale. He overlooked Cale’s poor etiquette entirely. Admittedly, a devoted father might attempt to correct Cale’s flawed character... yet this Cale remained indifferent, since he wasn’t the authentic Cale Henituse.

“Yes. Please make sure you eat a lot as well, father.”

Basen uttered another soft ‘Ho,’ and Cale, catching it this round, shifted his attention back to the food. The 15-year-old Basen, three years junior to the Cale he now inhabited, proved challenging to deal with.

In contrast to the trashy Cale, Basen possessed intelligence, diligence, and a strong sense of duty. Family members favored Basen as the future household head. Even after becoming Cale, Kim Rok Soo shared this view.

‘Instead of dealing with the hassles of managing this territory, I’d prefer leveraging my status as the Count’s elder son to idle away peacefully in some corner of the land.’

Cale avoided clashing with Basen. He heard Basen’s shocked intake of breath and sensed the disdainful stare, but what recourse did he have?

Should Basen ascend to household leadership, his nature suggested he wouldn’t eliminate Cale. Still, to evade harm and retreat quietly to a remote village, Cale had to steer clear of irking Basen.

‘If that fails, I’ll simply amass funds early and flee to a war-free zone.’

Ignoring Basen’s gasp, Cale kept eating. When the meal concluded, Deruth rose first. Breakfast had evidently pleased him, judging by the grin on his face.

‘It really was delicious.’

Should breakfast always be this lavish, Cale might sacrifice some rest to join it daily. Deruth scanned the family as they stood following his lead, then fixed his eyes on his eldest, Cale.

“Cale, is there anything you need?”

Puzzled by Deruth’s abrupt offer, Cale chose to reply truthfully.

“Please give me some money.”

“Sure, I’ll give you a lot.”

Deruth responded instantly, without a second thought.

This household was undeniably affluent.

As a domain rich in marble mines and wine-producing vineyards, wealth flowed abundantly at present.

“Great. Please give me as much as you can.”

Cale sensed his younger siblings’ stares, yet felt no shame. Wasn’t requesting funds preferable to boozing and stirring trouble?

Moreover, funds were essential for advancing his schemes. That pivotal meeting to acquire potent strength for protection. Some capital was required to orchestrate that crucial encounter.

“Sure. I’ll give you as much as I can.”

Content with his father’s reply, Cale smiled. But upon returning to his room and getting the cheque from deputy butler Hans, he fell speechless.

The cheque, backed by the treasury and magic departments, set Cale’s heart racing.

‘So much money?’

This family didn’t merely possess modest wealth; they brimmed with riches.

The novel noted Cale’s generous allowance, though without specifics. Still, the cheque’s figure revealed its true scale realistically.

‘10 million gallon.’

Roughly matching 10 million Korean won. With this sum, Cale could revise his strategy. His mind raced through possibilities.

“I’ll be heading out now, young master.”

After handing over the cheque and farewell, deputy butler Hans departed, but Cale stayed silent. Treating it as typical, Hans moved toward the exit. He halted shortly after.

Cale had stood and addressed Ron.

“Ron, let’s go to the study.”

Hans grew uneasy at Cale’s statement, as did Ron.

“...Did you say the study?”

Cale deemed this peculiar. The crafty elder’s tone trembled slightly. Was there some barrier to visiting the study?

“Yes.”

Planning required the study’s resources. His room lacked desks or stationery. It boasted fancy liquor bottles, though.

“Excuse me, young master.”

“What is it?”

Cale eyed the worried deputy butler.

“This, we have not been able to do our morning cleaning of the study just yet.”

“Is that so? It’s fine if it goes a day without cleaning.”

“No sir. We cannot let that happen.”

For whatever reason, the deputy butler insisted firmly. Then, flashing a wide smile, he raised one finger.

“Please just wait one hour! I will put my name on the line to make sure that the study is completely clean, not like a study that has not been used in ten years, but one that was used just yesterday!”

“Sure, whatever.”

Delaying an hour posed no issue.

“Great. Then I will go report this to the master.”

“No need to do that, but go ahead if you want to do so.”

“Yes, young master. I will be off now.”

“Okay. Sure.”

True to his training, Hans shut the door silently and vanished. He seemed hurried. Cale recalled the trio of deputy butlers competing for the head butler role. That might explain Hans’s zeal.

“Ron.”

“Young master?”

“Why are you blanking out like that?”

“My apologies, young master.”

“No need to apologize.”

Ron wore yet another strange look, but Cale stowed the valuable cheque in his coat pocket while inquiring. Events had unfolded so rapidly he hadn’t checked the date.

“What is today’s date?”

Such a query might baffle others, but servant Ron replied warmly.

“It is the 29th day of the 3rd month in the 781st year of the Felix Calendar.”

“Mm, that is a problem.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing.”

Cale gripped the 10 million gallon cheque tightly in his pocket again. Money alone proved reliable.

Yesterday marked the 28th day of the 3rd month in the 781st year of the Felix Calendar. That was when assassins from an enigmatic group slaughtered the residents of Harris Village—the settlement protagonist Choi Han reached after fleeing the Forest of Darkness, where he first experienced human warmth, formed bonds, and built a surrogate family in this realm.

Even Cale, familiar with the first five volumes, remained ignorant of this covert faction’s true nature.

Certain readers might ponder this scene and think:

‘I thought he was really strong. What was Choi Han doing while they were murdered?’

Such a reaction is understandable.

Yet, the novel’s title, [The Birth of a Hero], isn’t [The Strength of the Hero] or [The War of the Heroes] for a reason.

Birth.

It chronicles an individual surmounting myriad trials, bearing past traumas, to emerge as a hero. Amid foes and allies, themes of love and camaraderie arise.

Essential to any tale is the ‘awakening.’ Despite innate gifts and decades in the Forest of Darkness, Choi Han retained an innocent, kind heart unable to harm fellow humans. Monsters fell to him easily, but he’d never injured a person.

To forge such a figure into a hero, the story engineered a catalyst for Choi Han. To cure the woman who regarded him as her child, he ventured deep into the Forest of Darkness for rare healing herbs.

Securing the herb after a profound journey, he returned to discover the villagers’ corpses, razed homes, and fleeing assassins.

Witnessing this, Choi Han flew into a rage, claiming his first human life. Naturally, his victims belonged to that secret organization, which repeatedly confronts him later in the book.

Only after slaying every assassin did Choi Han regain composure, plunging into despair over the lack of clues from the corpses. He interred the villagers’ remains, vowing inwardly.

‘I will kill them all. I will kill all of the people that made this happen.’

In that instant, Choi Han grasped death’s sorrow, though his initial kill began warping his psyche. Subsequently, encounters with companions restore his emotions, humanizing him further en route to true heroism.

“...Ron.”

“Yes, young master.”

“A cup of cold water please.”

“... I understand.”

Once Ron departed, leaving Cale solitary, he buried his face in his palms.

The issue lay in the destination Choi Han reaches in his tormented state after Harris Village: Western City, nestled in the Henituse territory’s heart.

There, Cale’s chance meeting with Choi Han leads to provocation and a beating. That’s how Choi Han gains his initial follower, the dependable cook Beacrox.

‘... I was going to head there in advance and help him out.’

That optimal path to dodge the beating was now lost. While he’d prioritized possibly rescuing the villagers, intervention was impossible now.

Remaining was the task of behaving to evade Choi Han’s fury-fueled assault, as the enraged hero raced toward Western City by morrow.

‘Avoiding the main character is not a good idea.’

Encountering Choi Han was vital so Ron and Beacrox could meet him too. Only then would the trio depart together on their journey. Thus, one path forward emerged.

‘Have them run into each other and then get out of their way.’

Ideally, with the finest initial impression.

“Young master.”

“Ah, thanks, Ron.”

Cale sipped from the glass Ron provided. He grimaced immediately.

“It’s not cold water?”

“It is lemonade.”

Truly a cunning fellow. Aware that, like Kim Rok Soo, the original Cale loathed sour flavors, he’d opted for lemonade—more effort than plain water. Though the tartness irked Cale, fear of the assassin elder stifled his complaint. He drank it down.

“Thanks, it was wonderful.”

“No problem. Young master. We should be able to head to the study soon.”

“Great.”

Ron’s warm, amiable grin sent shivers through Cale. For reassurance, he clutched the 10 million gallon cheque once more.

Money truly was the sole trustworthy element.