Trash of the Count's Family Vol 2. Chapter 355: Tears (4)
Previously on Trash of the Count's Family...
The individual responsible for this was shoveling food into his mouth with an expression that suggested he hadn’t eaten in days.
He appeared utterly desperate.
He was consuming his meal with such fervent intensity, driven by the need to avoid fainting and to simply stay alive.
Furthermore, his activities over the preceding days had left his attire in such a disheveled state that anyone might mistake him for a destitute beggar.
This was the true visage of the man known as the serene hero.
Cale then succumbed to unconsciousness.
‘It feels suffocating.’
Bud slowly placed his palm over his chest.
A profound sense of frustration washed over his mind.
It was at this precise moment that he heard the voice of the ancient Dragon.
“...What a frustrating wretch.”
The Mercenary King had no need to inquire about the identity of the ancient Dragon, who was gazing out the window, when he uttered those words.
Bud Illis began to reflect upon Cale’s journey across the Western continent since the previous year.
He had prevented the Plaza Terror Incident within the Roan Kingdom’s capital.
He had extinguished the flames in Section 1 of the Jungle.
His accomplishments in the battles that swept across the Western continent earlier this year were nothing short of remarkable.
Countless lives were preserved thanks to his intervention.
Bud turned his gaze towards Cale, who lay with his eyes closed, breathing softly, as his thoughts continued to unfurl.
‘…Even these appearances—’
The way he had desperately consumed his food.
His disheveled state, clad in torn, dust-covered clothes.
His frequent bouts of fainting.
Did the public acknowledge these aspects of Cale as readily as they did his heroic feats?
Bud remained silent.
Despite his frustration, there were no words that he could suitably offer at this juncture.
An unbroken silence permeated the room.
* * *
Cale sensed the immense weight upon his body.
An overwhelming sensation, akin to sinking into a deep, viscous swamp, enveloped him.
‘Am I dreaming once more?’
It seemed that dreams were a constant companion whenever he lost consciousness these days.
‘What kind of dream am I trapped in this time that renders my body so heavy?
Is it a memory from battling that perilous monster?
Or perhaps from my investigation of the Monster’s Swamp that emerged in Korea?
If not, could it be from when I was beaten and thrown against a wall during our operation to clear out an illicit guild?’
It proved challenging for Cale to pinpoint the specific incident, given the sheer frequency of times in the past where his body had felt heavy after sustaining injuries.
Nevertheless, Cale detected something unusual.
“Sniff!”
‘This… ’
That was unmistakably the sound of suppressed sobbing.
Rustle rustle.
Cale felt the slight movement of fabric, followed by the sensation of something small and something larger nudging against his sides.
‘Ah, perhaps this isn’t a dream?
Am I not dreaming this time?’
“Sniff!”
He heard the sound of sniffling once again.
‘This must be Raon Miru.’
The only entity capable of such a peculiar habit, in both the lives of Kim Rok Soo and Cale Henituse, was Raon.
“Sniff.”
‘The softer sound emanating from the other side is almost certainly Hong.’
Raon and Hong exhibited remarkably similar behaviors.
Relieved that he was not dreaming and instead resting comfortably on a soft bed, Cale opted to keep his eyes closed.
There was no immediate necessity to rise.
Naturally, he mused that he might be compelled to open his eyes should he hear the children, who were around nine years old, sniffling once more.
Their whimpers were becoming rather unsettling.
However, Cale soon found himself with no choice but to snap his eyes open.
“Young master-nim.”
A low voice murmured directly beside his ear.
“I am aware that you have awakened.”
“Gasp.”
Cale involuntarily let out a sharp intake of breath.
‘It’s Ron.
The intimidating elderly gentleman is present.’
Cale’s eyes flew open wide.
“Mm!”
He then recoiled slightly.
The reason for his reaction was the immediate sight of Ron, adorned with a disarmingly pleasant smile.
“Ah, so you were indeed awake.”
Cale’s ears were instantly assailed by a cacophony of sounds.
“Human! Let us feast on meat!”
“There is an abundance of delicious food available! You must eat!”
“I concur! There is so much food to be had! You must eat, just as my noona and the youngest are urging!”
“Haaaa.”
Cale, sighing, lifted his gaze towards the ceiling, observing a Dragon with puffed-out cheeks, a plump red kitten, and a sleek silver kitten.
It was at this moment.
Clang.
Cale flinched.
The distinct sound of a sword being drawn from its sheath echoed. He shifted his head, noticing Beacrox meticulously cleaning a blade.
‘What is his deal?’
Beacrox’s gaze was fixed upon Cale.
He then abruptly rose and proceeded towards the door.
Click.
The door swung open, Beacrox stepped through, and cast a final, menacing glare at Cale before the door swung shut.
That venomous look led Cale to believe that Beacrox bore a striking resemblance to Ron.
“...I shall go and prepare some sustenance.”
Beacrox grumbled, his voice laced with an unusual intensity, before exiting.
‘Why does he have to announce his intention to bring me food with such hostility?’
Cale found Beacrox’s behavior utterly perplexing. However, Cale’s attention was immediately diverted as he scanned his surroundings.
Choi Han, Ron, and Eruhaben.
The trio was positioned in a close circle around the bed.
They were all observing him in a profound silence.
‘What in the world…?
Have I done something wrong?’
Cale couldn't shake off a peculiar sense of unease regarding this unusually solemn atmosphere. Yet, he had no time to dwell on it.
Baaaaang!
The door was flung open.
Cale spoke casually.
“Ah, the scent of alcohol.”
Immediately upon the door's opening, the room filled with the aroma of alcohol. # Nоvеlight #
Cale observed someone approaching him.
“Sob! My dearest friend! You have awakened!”
The Mercenary King, Bud Illis, reeking of alcohol, advanced towards Cale. Choi Han, as expected, halted his movement with his scabbard.
Cale turned his gaze to Bud and inquired,
“Are you intoxicated?”
“Indeed! I am quite drunk!”
‘…What is his deal too?’
Cale felt an urge to scoff at Bud, who was feigning drunkenness.
‘Drunk, my foot.’
Cale noticed Bud’s eyes, which were remarkably clear, betraying his lack of intoxication. But why was he putting on such an act?
Nevertheless, Bud disregarded Cale’s reaction and continued speaking.
“I, I! My heart was aching, so I drank a little! Oh, my friend!”
‘What is wrong with him?’
Cale’s expression grew increasingly bewildered.
“To see you frantically devouring those apple pies just to survive because you were so ravenous!”
Cale’s face soon contorted into an awkward grimace.
“You were like this, precisely like this!”
Bud, clutching a bottle, suddenly mimicked Cale’s frantic stuffing of apple pies into his mouth.
“You were shoving food into yourself as if possessed! It pained me deeply! My friend! I could finally comprehend the hardship you endured this past week! That is why I was so heartbroken! Sob, how immense must your suffering have been to continue gobbling apple pies even as you lost consciousness…!”
‘No, that was merely me trying to stave off fainting.’
“How famished must you have been…!”
‘…I wasn’t particularly hungry at all.’
Cale wished to interject, but he lacked the opportunity.
The Mercenary King’s eyes remained sharp and sober.
He was merely pretending to be drunk, just as Cale had suspected.
The Mercenary King, renowned for his sharp intellect, was known to prioritize practical advantages above all else, with the sole exception of his subordinates in the Mercenaries Guild.
“I had ample time to reflect during the three days you were unconscious.”
He resolved to vocalize the decision he had reached after three days of drinking fueled by heart-wrenching frustration.
“...Three days?”
‘I was out for longer than I had anticipated.’
Cale, unaware of the frustrations Bud had been grappling with over the past three days, was preoccupied with the duration of his own unconsciousness.
The Mercenary King bellowed, intending to jolt Cale from his reverie.
“I am terrible at drinking! I am weak! I will undoubtedly lose the drinking wager!”
‘…What in the world?
Why is he suddenly behaving like this?’
“Therefore, regarding the White Star.”
‘Hmm?’
“I shall serve as your secretary until we eliminate that scoundrel.”
‘Hmm?’
A sense of unease washed over Cale.
The drinking bet between Cale and Bud. If Bud lost, he was obligated to become Cale’s secretary.
Cale felt anxious about Bud suddenly bringing this matter up, yet Bud’s demeanor was entirely serious.
“You are truly the most extraordinary hero I have ever known.”
“Ah.”
Cale felt goosebumps prickle his skin upon hearing Bud's words.
To be subjected to such dreadful pronouncements the moment he regained consciousness was an unwelcome experience.
“Assign me tasks! Utilize me, my friend!”
The pent-up frustration within Bud’s heart dissipated as he declared this to Cale.
Having witnessed a side of the hero that remained hidden from the public eye, he now resolved to offer his assistance.
Cale began to ponder.
‘…His Highness’s intelligence was remarkably accurate, just as I surmised.’
Such was the thought occupying his mind.
Alberu Crossman's information had proven precise.
Bud Illis, this individual was indeed utterly eccentric.
Cale made a mental note to remember this fact.
It was at that precise moment.
“Young Master-nim.”
“...Hmm?”
Ron addressed him gently.
“Please, have a drink.”
Cale observed Ron presenting him with a cup of lemonade, a sight he hadn’t witnessed in quite some time.
He also noticed an ancient artifact situated in a corner of the room.
Cale’s lips curved into a smile as he looked towards Eruhaben, who was observing him.
The time had arrived to employ this ancient artifact.