“Being a doting dad was just a front, Duke! — Episode 3”
“Nooo! H-Holding hands doesn’t mean we’re dating! I take it back!”
Jackson managed to shake off my hand and ran away with his little follower.
“Hmph, acting tough for nothing.”
“…Hey, Sol.”
“What.”
“Could you let go of my hand?”
“Oh, right.”
I let go, cool as ever.
Bell turned her head quickly and looked at her palm. Did I leave a mark or something?
“What, did I hold too tight?”
Bell flinched.
“No, it’s fine!”
“Good, then.”
Is she hitting puberty already? She’s oddly sensitive to physical contact.
Anyway… What now?
The original heroine of #99 was a count’s daughter who grew up in a nice boarding school.
When her family fell into ruin, she worked at a temple doing odd jobs. Not long after, she was hailed as a saint and saved the world with the male lead.
There was no place in that journey for dirty orphans from a rundown orphanage like this. In other words, I’ll have to take care of my future myself.
But being ten years old is such an awkward age. Too young for a parenting story, too early to pivot into a business-themed plot with investors.
Worst of all, I don’t even know what point in the story this is. Is the heroine still a kid? Or is the world on the verge of destruction already?
As I stood there seriously contemplating, Bell came up to me.
“…Sol.”
“Yeah? What is it?”
“You… you were really mature earlier.”
Of course I was. I’m an adult.
But why is she hanging around me? Trying to apologize for earlier?
“Do you have something else to say?”
“You asked the year, right? It’s the 521st year of the Saint’s Calendar.”
“Thanks for telling me.”
She’s got a strong sense of pride, but she’s a good kid. I couldn’t help but smile warmly. Bell flinched again.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Oh, just thought you were cute.”
“W-What do you mean cute?!”
Ignoring her flustered voice, I looked out the window. The sky was cloudy, and sleet flew in the wind. Definitely winter.
The 521st year of the Saint’s Calendar, huh…
Still doesn’t mean anything to me. I wasn’t a #99 superfan. How would I know when anything happened?
Even the author kept messing up dates, so fans constantly corrected them in the comments.
Well, the protagonist will save the world. As for me, the extra? I’ll just focus on surviving.
I turned to Bell and asked,
“When’s the next meal?”
And so, my life within #99 began.
We’re in some orphanage in the northern part of the continent. The main source of income is a subsidy from a temple.
A priest visits about once a week. That’s the one day the kids wash their faces.
…Just their faces. Not showers.
The facility, run by a headmaster and one teacher, doesn’t bother keeping the kids clean. Most of them don’t even know how to wash properly.
Water is scarce, and the only extra they get is snowmelt, often with bits of leaves floating in it. Plus, the bathroom is so cold, it kills your will to wash.
Still, I insisted on washing every day. My reason? This:
One kid, shivering, asked me while I washed:
“Why do you clean up so much? Are you trying to get adopted by a noble?”
“Huh? What are you talking about?”
“It just seems like a waste. Being dirty makes it easier to get adopted!”
The other kids nodded in agreement.
“Yeah. If you look pitiful, they give you more food.”
“When nobles come, you shouldn’t wash for a whole week!”
Apparently, nobles come every couple of months to donate and adopt kids.
Just like how politicians visit welfare centers for photo ops during election season. Some things are universal.
…But something about that didn’t sit right.
“Are you sure it’s adoption?”
“What else could it be? We’re too scrawny to be used as servants!”
The kids nodded innocently. But my inner alarm went off.
In #99’s world, there’s a special resource: “Manapearls.” They’re like the mana stones you see in other fantasy novels—precious magical gems that used to be found underground.
Then research revealed they could be extracted from a rare few humans. You can guess what happened next—horrific human experiments.
The original novel only briefly mentioned it:
Greedy nobles provided vagrants and orphans to mages in search of manapearls. Most victims vanished after a few drops of blood were taken. But the experiments never stopped. The nobles, driven by their losses, only grew more desperate.
I don’t know if those experiments have started yet, but it’s best to play it safe.
No thanks to becoming monster feed in some underground lab.
I hinted at it to the kids, without being too direct:
“Yeah, nobles probably wouldn’t use kids like us as servants. But what if they take you to a lab and feed you to monsters?”
“No way…!”
“I’m kinda cynical. I don’t trust nobles. You should be careful too.”
I’ve said it before, but this world is trash. Though, to be fair, this place is objectively awful—bad food, terrible hygiene.
The headmaster speaks to the kids less than he hits them.
But what seems like hell now might just be the trial version of a deeper hell. That’s been the case in my life.
Guess I’ll keep scrubbing up every day.
Just past the confused kids, Bell muttered. Her hair was a mess, but her clean face gave her a hint of nobility.
“Nobles are… yeah. They’re garbage.”
That was proven sooner than expected.
One day, the headmaster called the kids to the dining room, smiling ear to ear.
“Kids! Next week, a count is coming! And he’s going to adopt one lucky child!”
“Waaah!”
“You all remember what to do, right?”
“Yes! Look pitiful and be polite! Speak softly!”
“That’s right. And never talk back, no matter what!”
“Yes, sir!”
I just mouthed along. This is ridiculous. Don’t teach kids to be groveling beggars.
The headmaster didn’t notice my silent rebellion.
“The Count even sent a gift ahead of time!”
“Waaah…?”
But the cheers quickly died.
He proudly pointed to a table. On it was a melon. The kids looked confused.
“Is that a ball?”
“No! It’s a sweet fruit from the south!”
“A… fruit…?”
Most of the kids had no idea what it was, let alone what it tasted like. But my mouth watered. I can’t even remember the last time I had fruit!
The assistant teacher sliced it with a big knife. Orange-tinted flesh was revealed. My mouth filled with saliva.
Seeing it, the kids’ eyes sparkled, and they eagerly received a slice.
“Say thank you.”
“Thank you!”
“Bow lower. Would you act like that when the Count arrives?”
“T-Thank you very much!”
Only after bowing multiple times could the kid move aside to eat.
What a disgusting man. Making kids grovel for a slice of fruit. At least their smiles brought some comfort.
“Wow, so soft!”
“Better than bread!”
One by one, the kids licked their sticky palms. Others lined up in anticipation—except one. Bell.
The headmaster finally noticed.
“Hey! You, with the black hair!”
“…My name is Bell.”
“Whatever. Why aren’t you eating?”
“I don’t like melon.”
Wait, she knows what it is? Strange. But only I seemed to notice. The headmaster frowned.
“What does that matter? You were given it, so eat it!”
“I said no.”
“Since when did your preferences matter?”
The headmaster stood up and glared. The assistant moved behind Bell to stop her from running.
“Wha—?”
“Bell, open your mouth.”
“I said I don’t want it!”
“You don’t get to choose. Better learn before the Count arrives.”
As the assistant grabbed her chin and the headmaster tried to shove the fruit into her mouth, I clung to their legs in desperation.
“Stop! Don’t hurt her!”
“What’s your name again?”
“My name is ‘Respected CEO’!”
“What the hell?!”
The nonsense distracted them briefly, but not for long.
Once the assistant peeled me off, the headmaster managed to stuff the melon into Bell’s mouth.
“Tastes good, doesn’t it? So why’d you refuse?”
“Mmph… cough!”
“Who’s next? Oh… you haven’t had any yet, have you?”
He looked down at me with a twisted smile. Damn it.
Because of our scuffle, the melon pieces had fallen to the floor. Now they were covered in dirt.
Perfect, he must’ve thought.
“Just the topping for you! Open up.”
He shoved the dirty fruit at me. I shook my head, but that only made him sneer more. Damn it. Should’ve stayed out of it.
Just as the gross thing touched my lips—
The kids screamed.
“Aaah!”
“Teacher! Bell’s acting weird!”
We all turned to look.
Right beside us, Bell’s face was red. Tears welled up in her eyes as she gasped and choked.
The assistant cried out,
“What’s wrong? Is it stuck?!”
No. I could see the chunk of melon
