The double life of a count’s bastard

Episode 3

Rousseau, the Earl of Slater’s spoiled brat, sat idly on the terrace.

His tea, once steaming hot, had turned cold, and the sandwiches Jason had prepared for him as a quick meal were still untouched.

Viscount Kansler’s visit was scheduled.

Viscount Kansler had always been Count Slater’s right-hand man on expeditions to the Inkeran Mountains, a trusted ally, a grateful friend.

But on this expedition, Viscount Kansler is nowhere to be seen.

Viscount Collector’s sabotage and Marquis Belay’s pressure have taken their toll.

It was not until much later that the story was revealed by Viscount Kansler’s confession.

“I don’t know what to say to that …… lunatic. Cuckoo.”

Rousseau couldn’t help but chuckle at the insanity of it all.

The problem was that Rousseau had experienced all of this in his dreams for the past ten days.

“Am I supposed to believe this?”

To be honest, Rousseau himself has a hard time believing it.

As a devout believer, I can’t accept as reality what is not a divine revelation, nor is it the dream of a crackpot that others are pointing fingers at.

Though I’m willing to concede that it might have been a premonition from a god who loves the Slater books.

“……horrible sound.”

Rousseau’s face stiffened as he remembered the details of the dream all too vividly.

The thought of its gruesome, disastrous consequences coming to pass in real life sent chills down his spine.

“It can’t be true, such a stupid dream!”

Rousseau scrambled to his feet, denying it could be true.

Part of him wanted to wash this foul feeling away with a drink, but for today, he had to force himself to hold back.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t have a lot of people looking at him these days.

“I know, it won’t make a difference.”

Still, the matter of the expedition to the Inkeran Mountains was bubbling up, and crossing a line that shouldn’t be crossed, even by a family bastard, could be a burden and a nuisance, even for Rousseau.

Running out of things to do, Rousseau threw me down on the large bed.

“Let’s get some sleep.”

While everyone at Count Slater’s was preoccupied and preoccupied with the expedition to the Inkeran Mountains, it was no different for Rousseau.

* * * *

“I’m going to be the third swordsman of the Slater family, succeeding my great-grandfather Kale Slater!”

He had once shouted so confidently.

When he held the heavy training iron sword with one hand, sweating profusely from morning to evening.

These were the days that I was willing to endure despite the hardships because I had a clear goal in mind.

Until I was forced to face the fact that I was being judged by others.

“……Wake up.”

The sharp voice jolted Rousseau out of his slumber.

“Useless bastard.”

Rousseau slowly opened his eyes, the harsh words piercing his eardrums.

He stared blankly into space as he relived the past as a dream, then rubbed his face with the palm of his hand as if washing his face.

He clenched his molars against the water in the corners of his eyes, and then he pushed himself upright as if nothing had happened.

Rousseau stretched, seemingly unconcerned by the sight of Aaron standing there staring down at him like he was a bug.

“Hmph, what brings you to this shabby place?”

Rousseau’s sarcasm didn’t seem to faze Aaron, who replied as if it hadn’t happened before.

“You’ve heard about the expedition, right? Be sure to behave yourself.”

“Hahaha! You came to this shabby place just to talk about it?”

“I don’t expect any help, but I won’t forgive you for bothering my father and getting me and my brother reprimanded.”

“And if I don’t forgive you?”

Rousseau’s provocative question made Aaron’s expression turn even sharper.

Russo smirked.

“Are you going to beat me up like you did three years ago? You broke my left arm then, so now you’re going to break my right?”

“…….”

Aaron just glared at Rousseau, who held out his right arm and laughed.

Rousseau smirked and rolled over on the bed like a lazy pig.

Rousseau opened the nightstand drawer on the upper left side of the bed, pulled out a bottle of liquor, and downed it while glaring provocatively at Aaron.

Gulp.

“C’mon, what, you got anything else to say?”

Aaron’s fists curled into fists in anger at Russo’s shameless look that told him to leave if he had nothing more to say.

As if waiting for him, Russo stood up slowly, tossing the bottle he’d been drinking casually to one side of the bed.

“Are you going to hit me now?”

font font font…….

Alcohol spilled from the bottle and soaked the bedspread, and at the sight of it, Aaron turned away, as if it wasn’t worth his anger anymore.

“I warned you. Don’t do…… anything until the expedition is over. You might as well just eat and sleep here like a pig.”

“Hmph.”

Aaron let out a small gasp at Rousseau’s mocking pig noises and started to leave the room.

By then, Russo’s constant “honey, honey, honey” had gotten on Aaron’s nerves.

Deciding it would be better for his mental health to get out of the room as soon as possible, Aaron reaches for the door handle.

Bam!

The door opened and a surprised voice rushed into the room like a gust of wind.

“I, indeed, have been rescheduled! Just as Master Russo said, Viscount Kansler has contacted me to cancel the appointment on short notice…… HUCK!!”

Jason exclaimed, too afraid to open the door, and when he saw Aaron standing in the doorway, he gasped in surprise.

“Ah, Master Aaron!”

Jason exclaimed, bowing deeply in greeting and straightening his disheveled clothing.

“What was that you were saying?”

“What?”

“What you just said!”

“Ah, ah…… that, that…….”

Under Aaron’s menacing glare that told him to stop stuttering and answer straight, Jason broke out in a cold sweat as he opened his mouth.

“Master Russo told me this morning that Viscount Kansler was going to cancel, and he just informed me unilaterally that he’s canceling.”

Jason’s words caused Aaron to raise an eyebrow and turn his head to look at Russo.

Rousseau couldn’t hide his bewilderment at the look on Aaron’s face as he demanded an explanation.

“I mean, did they just cancel on you?”

Jason nodded vigorously in response to his question, and Russo ran his hands through his hair and muttered.

“This can’t be…… no, this can’t be…… no, this can’t be…… no, what the hell is going on…… this is insane.”

Rousseau’s incredibly panicked expression left Aaron, Jason, and even Jason at a loss for words, wondering what the hell he was doing.

* * *

Smarty-pants.

“Master Russo…….”

“I told you not to interrupt!”

Jason’s mouth dropped open, startled by Russo’s pointed exclamation that pierced through the doorway.

“What the hell is wrong with him?

After five years of dealing with Russo, Jason thought he knew him better than anyone, but for once, he couldn’t figure it out.

‘It’s unnerving…….’

Whenever Russo did something unexpected, there was always a fallout.

This time, the signs were so strong that Jason’s head was already spinning as the butler in charge.

“I’ll leave your meal in front of you, and you must eat it, not skip it.”

Rousseau hadn’t touched food in four days, but as a butler, Jason dropped a freshly cooked, hot meal at the door and walked away.

Rousseau, meanwhile, is trying to figure out…….

“……Where do I even begin?”

Red, bloodshot eyes, tangled, matted hair, and dark circles that reached down to his chin.

Her face was puffy from not drinking anything but water for four days, with scars from all the chewing and biting, a puffy lower lip, and hollow cheeks.

Rousseau’s disfigurement was the epitome of unkemptness and haggardness.

Rousseau sat at the table with his notebook open, chewing his thin lips and picking at his fingernails.

Viscount Kansler’s unilateral cancellation had come true.

Rousseau could no longer dismiss her dream as a foul nightmare, a crackpot pipe dream.

He couldn’t trust it 100%.

But the anxiety grew over time, his heart racing at the mere thought of it, and the details of the dream still fresh in his mind.

It was as if someone in Rousseau’s head was screaming at him, “It’s a premonition, you idiot!

Locked in his room for three days, Rousseau debated whether he should believe his dreams or not, and decided to go with the latter.

Even if it was a family bug.

“I have to stop that damn tragedy somehow.”

He didn’t regret it, even in his dreams.

At least.

“I can’t stand the sight of you standing there!”

Rousseau’s fists clenched as he remembered the emotionless look on the creature’s face as he stared down at him in triumph.

The problem was, that neither killing him nor preventing a family tragedy would be easy.

Honestly, Viscount Kansler’s death was a coincidence, and when reality doesn’t match your dreams, there’s nothing better than that.

But if not, it’s a situation where you’re forced to prepare for the future.

Where and how to start?

This is where Rousseau never quite got it right.

In his ten days of dreams, Rousseau went through a long time, ten years.

It’s not easy to remember and prepare for such a long period in a dream.

He thought it was simple and that he only needed to prepare for the big things.

“What’s so complicated about this?”

Not only the causes but also the processes and specific variables that lead up to an event.

Even if I knew the cause, process, and outcome of an event through dreams, I couldn’t imagine trying to intervene and change all of that.

Rousseau tried to write down important events and things he needed to remember, just in case he suddenly couldn’t remember what he was dreaming about, but there were so many twists and turns that he hadn’t written a word in an hour.

Still, she couldn’t just waste time, so she took a deep breath and tried to organize her thoughts as best she could.

“Let’s keep it as simple as possible and take it one step at a time. Things that must be stopped, things that I can do, things that must be avoided at all costs.”

Rousseau picked up a pen and slowly began to scribble in his notebook.

Blah, blah, blah, blah.

With more concentration than ever, Rousseau began to fill up page after page of his notebook.

* * *

“I think I’ve got this pretty much organized…….”

Rousseau stretched his arms back to relieve his stiff shoulders and stared at his densely packed notebook.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was filled with enough valuable information to change his future and that of his family.

It was unlikely that anyone would dare to rummage through his room and find the notes, but it didn’t matter if they did.

It was encrypted with magic, and no one but Russo himself could decipher it.

“What do I do now, anyway? I have a lot of work to do…….”

Currently, Rousseau is perceived by the great Slater family as an uncontrollable rascal.

But what if that suddenly changes?

How many people would think, “Oh, he’s finally coming to his senses and trying to be human?

Even if it’s a good thing.

“Every time you do something, he’s going to try to interfere here and there, and it’s a pain in the ass to get him to understand and agree to it…….”

Right now, just with my two older brothers, Karon and Aaron, I have to get buy-in from multiple people to do anything.

There were so many things that needed to be done, sometimes hidden, that Rousseau didn’t want to interfere or ask anyone’s permission.

Above all, he must be a hidden sword.

It was better to be the rascal that he was, the one who had to be completely excluded by the Slater family’s enemies.

“Stay exactly as you are. Be the finger-pointing asshole that no one cares about.”

If you can change your family’s future if you can change your future.

Rousseau didn’t mind being the asshole that everyone cursed and pointed fingers at.