Chapter 42
“Hmm?”
“My birthday is a month apart from theirs, so in practical terms, we’re a year apart.”
“Is that important?”
“To me, it is.”
“How are we a year apart? Our school entrance years are two years apart.”
“The senior’s birthday is this month, and mine is the 19th of next month. School entrance age is determined by the semester start date, so even if the senior entered two years before me, our actual ages differ by one year and one month. In a month, I’ll be eighteen, and the senior will still be nineteen. From that point on, we’re a year apart.”
“Is that really important?”
“Still, yes—for me.”
And it feels better to be a year apart than two.
It’s just how I feel.
“I get that your point is to make me seem more approachable.”
“You’re a repeat student. You’re already far too approachable.”
“I see… approachable to the point of looking ridiculous, huh.”
Eirix looked back at the record book. The senior’s address was listed.
“I’ll see you home.”
“Why you?”
“I’m carrying your luggage.”
Eirix lifted the bag in their hand.
“You’ve been holding that all this time?”
“Then who else? Maimon? Zephyr?”
Maimon would just hold the bag, and Zephyr would say, “It’s not my job,” then leave it behind.
Knowing the individual quirks of these two, the senior’s eyes softened.
“Yeah… you’re right. Let’s go then.”
I wonder what Eirix talked about with the duke.
They’re the type who likes to observe from afar, so they stayed back, but I’m curious.
They probably questioned why I didn’t follow that Telecus. The duke would regret the failure, but since Telecus is dead, there won’t be a second chance.
Feeling somewhat relieved, I headed toward Elpini’s residence, listed in the address. Or rather, Eirix headed there, and I followed.
I had assumed Elpini lived in a boarding house or dorm, but I was wrong.
A whole house was dedicated to Elpini.
Technically, the first floor is commercial space, and the second and third floors are Elpini’s residence.
The train cabin was luxurious, and the house was neat and spacious too—at least by my standards.
I admired it, but Eirix flinched at the cultural shock of such a trivial house.
It felt like a newly opened hotel room—immaculately arranged, excessively clean, artificially perfect.
The furniture was spotless, as if just delivered from a factory. Shelves held only decorative books; ornaments were clean and artificial, without any personal taste.
It resembled a showroom for a large furniture chain—more like a stage set than a real home.
There was not a single personal item of Elpini’s. I began to doubt if Elpini ever existed in this world. They seemed like an extra with no setup, a meaningless prop.
I scrutinized the record book again, but there were no personal details. No hometown, no family—only this address.
Who are you really, Elpini?
What if someone comes looking for you? Where did you go?
Could it be that in that world, my body survived miraculously and Elpini entered it?
If that’s the case, sorry. It’s a one-sided loss for Elpini.
My home isn’t this nice, and I have no one who would grieve or miss me.
I have no family, no marriage, no lover, no close friends.
After “that incident,” I lived in an orphanage with other children, comforting each other. I was lucky—my grandparents came and took me. They had responsibility but no drive, so they just raised me, and I grew up. I had no complaints; things were fine.
If someone lacks something, someone else can end up with less, too.
What I thought was insufficient might have been just right.
Some things I lacked, some were enough, some I gave up from the start. I wasn’t resentful or sorrowful.
Then I entered this body, knowing the fate of this world in detail, yet entering a human body about which I knew nothing, to prevent the world’s destruction.
“Let’s go eat dinner.”
Eirix held a thick stack of bills. Even without knowing the local prices, I could tell it was a lot of money.
“Where did you get that?”
“From my father.”
Rich people can recover quickly from temporary cash flow problems.
“What are we eating?”
“First, a huge steak. I’m starving.”
Ah, I remember. On the train, we were supposed to have a massive steak, but only palm-sized portions came, disappointing us.
Even in a luxurious train compartment, we could only use room service because Eirix couldn’t go outside. And the train room service portions were barely enough to satisfy a sparrow.
“This time, let’s go somewhere with proper waiters.”
Suddenly, a loud commotion echoed.
Crash! Bang!
The house shook. A startled snake poked its head from its pouch.
The door slammed open, and shouting rang out.
“Hey, Elpini!”
“You country bumpkin!”
Eirix and I stared, stunned, at the noisy intruders.
Who are they? Wait… are they here for Elpini?
They laughed and joked loudly, clearly exhausted from coming all this way. Why rush if your stamina can’t handle it?
“Are they your friends?”
“Probably not.”
“Why a question?”
“Well…”
I can’t deal with this anymore.
I’ll have to make a simple excuse to cover all future questions. A traditional, useful one exists.
“I have amnesia.”
“…What?”
Eirix was bewildered, unable to process the sudden absurd statement.
“Amnesia? You mean…?”
“Yes. I don’t remember anything.”
Eirix looked me over anxiously.
“From when to when do you not remember?”
“From roughly birth until three hours before meeting you.”
“That means you remember nothing!”
“Exactly.”
I clapped my hands sharply.
“What about all the ‘blessings from God’? The dream about me failing? What’s all that?”
“That was a dream three hours before I met you.”
“But you said you don’t remember. How did you know it was me?”
“All other memories are gone, but only memories about you remained.”
From an omniscient Elpini perspective, that makes sense—they switched to a different person after that.
“You’re the only memory I had left. And—”
I pointed at their group. They finally paused, eyes shining confidently. Ready to make a scene.
“I don’t know a thing about them.”
Let’s examine the group.
A big guy—fine, maybe he’s handsome.
A strangely acting ordinary-looking guy—why act so deadly? Seems like his self-set role, but it needs a baseline to be effective.
Two girls: one fairly normal but noisy, the other exaggerated in everything—expression, gaze, outfit.
I focused on the exaggerated girl—she seemed like the ringleader.
The noisy girl and the ‘lethal wannabe’ actively followed, and the awkward big guy seemed dragged along, shrinking in Eirix’s presence. Oh, correction—he was assertive at the door but became passive when facing Eirix.
Eirix recognized him, looking annoyed.
The exaggerated girl said,
“Is this your new house?”
The lethal wannabe shrugged.
“Better than your old place?”
The exaggerated girl laughed.
“Orphan from a monastery but must have a rich benefactor. Giving you a new house outright. I’m jealous—better than my mom!”
Orphan from a monastery? I wanted to ask more but couldn’t—the girl stood in front of me, arms crossed.
“Thought you’d never come back. Why are you here?”
“To save the world.”
“No, I was told to.”
The girl giggled, shaking her body.
“Brave! I respect that! When you ran away, we all bet you’d never come back! Oh no, I lost!”
Everyone laughed uproariously.
Why are they laughing? I’m not amused at all.
I glanced at Eirix. Their face was icy, similar to when their father was angry. Even if they dislike each other, a rich parent-child bond is still visible.
“Hey, Eirix.”
“Yeah!”
Ah, startled. My ears are ringing.
“I don’t remember, but I don’t think they’re my friends.”
“They shouldn’t be!”
Louder. My skull vibrates.
“Because from now on, I’ll handle them however I want!”
No, that can’t happen.
