I can’t see a thing.
It feels like someone is choking my neck.
My breath is getting heavy, yet my body is frozen, like a frog caught in the gaze of a snake.
Even with my vision clouded, I can sense the dampness around me.
Something must be trickling down my forehead.
Rain? No, it feels stickier than water. This must be blood.
So, my condition is that blood is flowing from my forehead, and I’m somehow restrained by something unknown?
I tried to piece together the situation in my mind, searching my memory.
I definitely remember talking with Esteban, the head of the trading company, in the reception room, but after that, my memory goes blank.
Did I get attacked in the mansion?
Who could have done this?
Could it be that the artisans have revolted against me?
Uh-oh, I’ve been overworking the artisans for a while now, so that’s hard to deny.
I overlooked the fact that they were banding together after Kroon joined us. This is my mistake as the CEO of a black corporation.
“…Uh… I’ll change to a six-day work week, so let’s compromise here…”
I barely managed to speak as my mouth finally moved.
But no response came, so I strained to listen closely.
– Snore, snore
A faint sound of deep sleep reached my ears.
That’s when I realized something was off.
With all my strength, I focused on my immobile body, and it started to respond little by little.
I struggled to lift my eyelids.
And what came into my view was a chubby little foot choking my neck.
“…Aida?”
Aida, fast asleep with her head buried in my forehead, despite the sound of my voice calling her.
I realized that what was flowing down my forehead was Aida’s drool.
What the heck is going on? I managed to raise my squeaking body.
Of course, I had a hard time carefully laying Aida down beside me.
“Alain!”
How long have I been asleep? I raised my voice a bit, and it felt like my throat was about to split open from the pain.
“You’re awake, Young Master!”
“What in the world happened? My memory’s all fuzzy.”
Alain came rushing in as soon as he heard my voice.
Seeing me awake, Alain let out a sigh of relief and hurried to my side.
As he checked on me frantically, he finally calmed down enough to answer my question.
His words were a jumbled mess, but I understood that I had fainted while talking to the head of the trading company, and it was due to exhaustion.
“The Count has commanded that you must not leave this room until you have fully recovered.”
“Ah… sigh, I guess there’s no helping it. But why is Aida here like this?”
If she wanted to sleep, couldn’t she just do it comfortably in her own room instead of attempting to assassinate me?
“Well… she insisted that she could wake you up when you fainted…”
I mean, who could stop Aida in our household?
I looked over at Aida, lying on one side of my bed, and thought.
-Big brother… poisoned apple…
Mumbling something I couldn’t make sense of, her lips puckered cutely like a pufferfish, and I couldn’t help but poke her cheek.
Anyway, I need to get back to work.
I’ve heard that the Saintess is coming to visit soon, so I have to prepare to paint her portrait, and I’ve got to plan out Volume 5 of “Iron-Blood Alchemist,” so there’s a mountain of work waiting for me.
And I need to consistently create fairy tale books as well, so I should plan ahead so I won’t fall behind.
Even though my body isn’t moving properly yet, I feel like if I drink a vitality potion, I could get around just fine.
“Alain, bring me a bottle of vitality potion.”
“No, that’s not going to happen. Monk Manuel has already given you a diagnosis.”
“What the heck was the diagnosis?”
At my question, Alain began listing out the diagnoses one by one.
First, confiscation of vitality potions.
Second, no entry to the workshop.
Third, sleep for more than 10 hours a day.
Fourth, exercise for one hour every morning.
What are these ridiculous, brutal conditions?
If a person sleeps that much, what’s the difference between them and a bear?
No entry to the workshop? I have a mountain of work to do!
Morning exercise too? Exercise is something you do just to show off to your body when you get older, not as if it’s some kind of serious business.
And above all, banning the use of vitality potions? That’s something I cannot tolerate!
There have been countless things I’ve been dissatisfied with since coming to this world, but one of the top favorite things has to be the vitality potion.
Isn’t this truly a gift from the goddess to humanity?
The intense effect it has makes all the numerous energy and energy-boosting drinks I consumed in the modern world look like plain water.
Besides, it’s like a divine drink that makes you feel good when you drink it!
And they want to ban that?
That’s just outrageous. I was about to argue with Alain right then, but my body didn’t cooperate, and I ended up giving up futilely.
Rupert, that jerk, and he’s just a teenager and already overextended himself like this.
I used to be able to pull all-nighters in high school, go to school, finish studying, and then come home to play games and tough it out.
Yet here I am, can’t even handle this workload, not to mention the top-tier welfare conditions with a clergy member healing me!
“Alain… how could you betray me…”
“This isn’t betrayal. You absolutely need rest right now.”
“I still have to make Volume 5 and paint the saintess’s portrait; there’s no time to—”
“Young Master, no one is going to have any problems if you don’t do that.”
At Alain’s words, I was left speechless.
No problems? How does that even make sense?
If I miss even one day on my serialization schedule, it’ll be chaos from the editor’s pressing, not to mention the reader’s angry comments.
“Oh, come to think of it, there aren’t any editors here, right?”
Suddenly, it struck me that I had never deeply pondered why I had been so desperate to create my works.
At first, it was just to make a gift for Aida.
Then it was to revive the fallen family finances.
But now I could buy Aida lots of toys, and the family finances had not only recovered but had become more solid than even during our former wealth.
Why the heck was I working so hard on my art in the first place?
“Maybe it was just fun.”
Thinking back, I realized that at some point, creating fairy tales and comics for their own sake became something I genuinely enjoyed, not just for profit.
It reminded me of the days in school when I would scribble in my notebook and show my practice comics to my friends to see their reactions.
I wanted to show the works I created to people as quickly as possible.
After all, I was also a reader, and I knew how eagerly people waited for the next stories.
“Is it because I woke up after a deep sleep? I’m feeling things I never felt before.”
Now that I think about it, I can clearly feel that I’ve been running like a racehorse this whole time.
Only looking ahead, like a racehorse running on a track with limited sight.
I gazed at the sleeping Aida.
Watching my actions quietly, Alain spoke softly to me.
“Young Master, you are now the heir to the Somerset family.”
– I hope you don’t forget that, before being the author of the book, you are someone we must protect with all our strength.
That’s true.
How could a guy who can’t even make the people around him happy possibly bring happiness to his readers?
Now the only remaining family members of the Somerset family are my father, Count Bradley, me, and Aida.
The eldest son, Richard Somerset, is long gone, with everyone thinking he died in the war.
In this situation, if I were to fall, or worse, die, there might come a time when young Aida would have to bear the burden of the family’s responsibility.
That absolutely cannot happen.
I made a resolve.
I will start working out again, which I had let slide due to laziness and weariness, and build a strong body like the knights of this world.
And since I’ve been overextending myself, the artisans must be tired too, so I think we should all work out together.
If the people who work for our family can all be healthy, the speed of work will increase instead.
Wouldn’t that be the best conclusion, satisfying both those around me and the waiting readers?
Finally, as my thoughts sorted themselves out, I felt lighthearted, and Alain was also happy seeing my clear expression.
“Finally, you see it, Young Master!”
“I’m sorry, Alain. I know I caused a lot of worry, but don’t worry; I understand now.”
Hearing that, Alain seemed moved, wiping the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand.
Now that I think about it, Alain is getting older, so we should work out together too.
*
“Surely, the protagonist will bring Nina back to life, right?”
A man in line spoke loudly, and many people nodded in agreement.
“Right? The author is human too; surely they wouldn’t just end Nina’s story like that?”
“I’m sure the brothers will use the Philosopher’s Stone to bring her back! If not…”
He swallowed the words that he would punch the author in the face even if it meant going to jail!
People gathered around naturally predicted what was left unsaid.
“By the way, what’s the plot for Volume 4 going to be?”
“I bet it’ll show the protagonist fighting with Skall! That damned Western native! What crime did Nina commit to kill the child?”
“Hmm… But if I were turned into such a gruesome chimera, I might think death would be better.”
Thud!
The man who made the last statement was suddenly grabbed by the collar, causing him to look around, panicking as he felt murderous glares from all directions.
“Hey, bastard… take that back.”
“Take it back!”
Thump!
Thanks to the man’s hasty retraction, the grip on his collar along with the menacing gazes faded, and he let out a sigh of relief.
Some passionate fans among the readers of “Iron-Blood Alchemist” have recently begun to regulate discussions about the comic.
The content of this regulation was quite serious.
For instance, there was a rumor going around that someone who remarked that “Flame Alchemist is useless when it rains” at a tavern was later found collapsed in an alley.
So other readers began to snicker and call those folks the Iron-Blood Guild, but they were powerful enough that no one could openly mock them.
Part of the reason behind this was the number of nobles included within the Iron-Blood Guild; nobody wanted to start unnecessary trouble.
Amidst the little commotion in line for Volume 4 of “Iron-Blood Alchemist,” the sale finally kicked off, and some started reading the books on the spot.
Those who had managed to gather the books exclaimed in awe and screamed, finally finishing the read.
Just as they were about to wrap up with delighted hearts, they stumbled upon a line at the end of the last page:
-Due to the author’s health issues, the release date for Volume 5 has been postponed.
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