NOVEL NEXT My Daddy Hides His Power
Chapter 68
All the kids were clapping their hands at us—.
No, I mean, everyone was busy talking with each other, so when did they pay attention to us like this? “Hmmm.” Embarrassed, I scratched my cheek and quietly sat down in my chair. Cheshire also looked down with his hand on his forehead as if embarrassed. I quietly poked his side. “My sincerity was conveyed well, right…?” “Yeah, I got it.” “Then, it’s a relief.” “Haa.” Cheshire sighed and put his hands over his face. “Earlier, what’s his name?” “Huh? Ah, Jemian Traha!” “Yeah. I’ll look for it later during practical training.” “Hehe. Really?” Cheshire looked at me as if he was dissatisfied with my expression of dying of joy. “Don’t get me wrong? I just heard rumors that he’s having a little bit of trouble with his theory education, so what if you, the smart one, help him? I was just thinking like that.” “Theory? Is he unable to memorize the magic formula?” “Mmhm. He must be bad at math.” Jemian Traha, a commoner, was a friend Cheshire met at the training center. In the original story, Cheshire entered a training camp at the age of 13. Jemian is—. ‘He was paid until he was 13. Then he met Cheshire, took tutoring, and finally graduated.’ For the purpose of directing a novel, the boring training school curriculum was skipped entirely. So all I know is—. That Jemian is now in a training center at the same age as Cheshire at the age of 11. That he had red hair and gray eyes. It’s as if he consistently fails theoretical tests but stands out in martial arts. ‘Jemian Traha is a complete monster. I have to find him and let him graduate safely from the training center.’ It’s because he will become a symbol of the power of the lower class, who makes a huge major with just one fist! * * * On the way back to the room alone after finishing the attack team theory training. ‘What is that…?’ I couldn’t keep my mouth shut at sight unfolding before my eyes. “You cheeky commoner punk!” “Are you crazy? Do you want to die!” “Hit more, more!” Five aristocratic boys were knocking someone over and beating it up. It was a familiar face who crouched down and received the pouring kicks. “J, Jem?” ….The white nameplate in our room. It was Jem. “Heey!” As I ran away screaming, the children stopped kicking. “Are you crazy?!” In the midst of the amazing faces. “Wow, it’s you again?” The bully who represented the training center, Bruce. “Are you okay, Jem? Can you get up?” I pushed aside the flustered Bruce and sat Jem up. Fortunately, I found her right away, and it didn’t look like she had any serious injuries yet. “Hiii!” I turned around. The frightened children turn their heads together. “Why did you hit Jem!” “S, she was hit because she deserved it!” “So, do you have any good reason for that?” I pushed my face closer to Bruce and muttered a stern voice. “That commoner slapped me on the cheek!” “What?” Indeed. Bruce’s left cheek was swollen. Blood could be seen through the gap in his lips. Jem is 11 years old and taller than her peers, even though she is a girl and a paid student. Furthermore, it’s a martial arts department, which makes sense since it’s a major that uses fists—. ‘Hmm, it must have hurt a bit?’ I turned to Jem. “Jem, why did you hit Bruce?” “You hit me first, punk.” Jem gritted her teeth staring at Bruce. I looked back at Bruce again. “Hey! You hit my shoulder first! If you hit me, you’ll just bow your head and say I’m sorry! How cheeky!” “Why should I do that? Aren’t you the one who purposely came close to the person who was doing well and hit the shoulder and started a fight? Damn, am I your toy?” “What? Are you crazy about the subject of lower commoners? Do you really want to die?” “Stop, stop.” I squeezed between the two. The situation was obvious. “Bruce, you saw a white name tag and you just wanted to pick a fight, so you hit her on the shoulder, didn’t you?” “….” “Answer me.” “W, what’s wrong with that? Whether or not to quarrel with the commoner!” “Ung, who said it was a problem? It’s not a problem. The color of the name tag is the law here.” “That’s right! You’ve adjusted now, haven’t you? “So did you hit Jem first because you were offended when she didn’t apologize?” “Yeah! You should have seen how cool I was. She gave me a cool slap on the cheek!” “Then Jem was self-defense.” Bruce, who was slapped on the cheek by a commoner, must have been dumbfounded. Bruce’s friends started beating Jem badly because they thought they had found the culprit. “All of you, line up.” “Yes?” “Stand up, tsk. Ugh!” Bruce was startled when I raised my tiny hand and scared him. “Aren’t you standing up?” Five children lined up on another warning. I walked back and forth in front of them with my hands behind my back like an instructor in the training. “Listen carefully. After this time, you will not pick a fight with the white name tag for no reason.” “What?” “When did I ask you to talk?” “N, no.” Bruce grabbed his throat. “Also, don’t use violence recklessly.” “….” “Everyone answer this time.” “O, okay.” “Yes!” “Yes!” I don’t like violence. I don’t like to press people down by rank. But, sadly, there are times when I have to press people down with power and use violence. Just like this—to those who can’t be made right with words. Duk—. “Argh!” I kicked Bruce’s shin, who was standing on the far left. “Does it hurt?” “Ah, why…why are you hitting me?” “Why did you pick a fight with Jem, slap her, and hit her together?” “….” “There’s no reason, right? Because the color of the nameplate is lower than yours—except for that.” “….” “Me too. So let’s not make an unfair face, shall we?” I took turns kicking the shins of the next guys. Duk, duk, duk, duk—. “Ugh.” “Ouch…” “Ugh.” And—. “Listen carefully.” To look dignified, I put my hands on my waist, stretched out my stomach, and said. “It is very cowardly for many people to use violence against one person. Also, as a noble who should be an example to others, it is shameful.” “Uh, that’s right…?” “Yes.” “But what’s your role model?” “I don’t know either. Be quiet.” “You guys got hit by me one by one today, but the punishment for cowardly inflicting violence on one person can be said to be very light.” Each of the children looked at me and lowered their eyes. “Next time something like this happens, I won’t end it with a shin.” Everyone didn’t have an answer. “Did you understand!” “Y, yes!” “I understand!” “No, what honorifics…y, yes!” Satisfied, I turned to Jem. She stood there with a dazed expression, and when my eyes met hers, she turned away in surprise. I took Jem’s hand. “Come on. Let’s go to the treatment room together.” * * * I got a first aid kit from the treatment room and returned to my room with Jem. Looking closely, there were quite a few scratches on the arms and legs. “Phew, the end of the world, the end of the world….” I squatted down in front of Jem, who was sitting on the bed and applied medicine to her leg. I felt her gaze and raised my eyes. Jem, who had been staring at me, quickly turned her head. “I, I’ll do it.” “No. I will do it for you.” I even looked at Jem’s wound. “…Thank you.” “Oh, you know how to say thank you?” “I, I do it when I do it too! It’s because I don’t want to talk to the nobles.” “There are not only kids like Bruce. Don’t be too wary of the aristocracy.” “Sheesh.” Jem snorted. Then, she lowered her eyes gently—. “…Like you?” —and she asked. A laugh came out. “Yeah, like me!” Something like a prickly kitten must resemble someone. “Let’s have a snack together. Did you eat the chocolate I gave you for breakfast?” “…Mmhm.” I closed the medicine’s open lid and took a bunch of cookies and macarons from the snack box. Even the juice I got from the restaurant was set on the bed, and a pretty nice snack table was set up. “Hehe.” I sat across from Jem and gave her a straw to drink the juice. “Drink. Eat cookies too.” Jem felt awkward but accepted what I gave her. I’m upset that Jem got hit, but I thought it was fortunate that I could get close to her this time. “Jem, let’s go to the restaurant together from now on.” “….” “Do you hate it?” “…I’ll think about it.” “Hmph.” I pouted and gulped down my juice. Jem glanced at my disappointed expression and muttered a little. “All right…” “Really? Really?” “Mmh.” “Hehe. Then, shall we say hello again? My name is Lilith Rubinstein.” Commoners also have surnames, but the training center doesn’t write them on name tags. I wonder if they don’t do anything called personal details management at all. There were a lot of kids who used their misspelled names or nicknames exactly as they were written on the application form. So I’ve always wanted to know Jem’s full name, but I was ignored whenever I talked to her—. ‘Will you tell me your name now?’ Feeling embarrassed at Jem’s stare, I sipped the juice for no reason. It wasn’t long before Jem gave me a hand as if she was trying to shake hands. I’m so happy that I’m going to grab that hand—. “…It’s Jemian Traha.” “Pffffff!” —but then I sprayed the juice in my mouth on her face!
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