"As long as you're capable enough. All I care about is preserving the company, its assets, and my family. Nothing else matters."
After giving his answer, Head of the Rostov Family left the two of them, presumably to consider his next move.
There hadn't been much to the conversation, but Orson had gained a rough understanding of the man. The head of the Rostov family was a textbook capitalist, but just as Koschei had said, he was not someone impossible to talk to.
That left one final question...
"Miss Natalia, do you know anything about those two identical guards at Duke Baikal's side?"
"They belong to a vassal family under the Baikal family. They are twins and will likely inherit their family's legacy in a few years."
"So I can't just take them out. Then I'll try something else..."
"Eh?"
For an instant, Lumen heard Orson muttering something that sounded extremely dangerous. But the next second, the young man wore an utterly harmless smile again.
"It's nothing, Miss Natalia. More importantly, could I take an hour off this morning?"
Orson asked Lumen for leave. Thinking he wanted to tend to his wounds, she agreed and reminded him to "make sure you deal with it properly."
"Mm. I'll make sure it gets cleaned up properly."
"...?"
Though she was curious about what exactly Orson intended to deal with, Lumen did not dwell on it—until several days later, when she saw a news report in the paper. It stated that the two heirs of a Baikal vassal family had simultaneously developed amnesia. The symptoms had persisted for some time, and the preliminary conclusion was that they had drunk counterfeit vodka. At present, there appeared to be no possibility of recovering their memories.
You can hit me all you want, but you dared touch Big Sis Lumen? Just wait for death.
Suspect Orson stated that he truly knew nothing. It had absolutely nothing to do with Soul Tuning or interrupted notes. Counterfeit liquor was simply harmful.
There is an illustration here. It can be viewed after updating the version.
Actually... I Never Went to School Either
After secretly finding an opportunity to turn those two guards who bullied others by relying on their masters into idiots, Orson returned to the estate and happened to run into Lumen, who was dressed in her school uniform and carrying her bag as she prepared to leave.
"Miss Natalia, are you heading out?"
Orson frowned as he asked. Lumen nodded, confirming that his guess was correct.
"Uh, you were just hunted down on the street yesterday, and Duke Baikal gave you an explicit personal threat early this morning—I remember that right?"
Faced with Orson's questioning, Lumen sighed.
"Of course I remember. But even so, I am still the student council president. A president cannot take leave without cause. Besides, if I refuse to interact with the outside world because of his assassination attempt and marginalize my own daily life, that would be truly putting the cart before the horse."
Lumen closed her eyes slightly as she explained calmly.
"I am not merely Natalia. I am also the heir of the Rostov family. Every word and action of mine represents the family's honor. If I choose to flee or give up, it will only tell everyone else that the Rostov family has shown weakness. That would diminish the Rostov family's influence and play right into Duke Baikal's hands."
Though Lumen's words were perfectly serious, Orson saw things differently. He could clearly feel that her melody at that moment was like a rigid, stilted piece deliberately played for other people's praise and approval. There were even wrong notes mixed within it.
Sometimes, Lumen's overly mature appearance made Orson overlook a simple fact: she was actually younger than him, a girl who had only just entered high school.
"I have no right to dissuade you from your decision, Miss Natalia, but your bag clasp isn't fastened, and the ribbon on your shoulder and your hair accessory haven't been tied properly either."
Orson pointed out the details Lumen had failed to handle in her haste. After touching her hair accessory and ribbon, the young Rostov heir sighed.
"Then please help me tie them, Orson."
"Is that really okay?"
"Sometimes a guard can serve as an attendant as well."
Lumen turned her back to Orson, signaling for him to tie her ribbon and hair accessory.
"I understand."
Orson responded with a frown. At first glance, Lumen's response had seemed unobjectionable, but it made Orson realize something.
Lumen truly was a "noble young lady." At least, before she had experienced the Peterheim incident, she still possessed pride and a sense of honor in her family and her "noble status."
Lumen had a kind heart and could stand up for a complete stranger like Orson, but she also naturally displayed that lofty attitude toward ordinary people.
Orson had no intention of blaming her. After all, it could not be helped. The education she had received and the environment around her had always been like this.
The reason Lumen did not mind Orson touching her or inviting him into her room was, fundamentally, because she did not see him as an equal.
For example, Talula and FrostNova would absolutely never let Orson help them fix their hair. If he insisted on doing it, he would probably already be dead... or on fire.
"All right, so are you sure you want to go to school, Miss Natalia?"
As he thought, Orson had already finished arranging Lumen's hair. This noble young lady's hair was even smoother than he had expected. It felt cool to the touch, with a silky texture.
And because he was so absorbed in petting the white bear, Orson failed to notice the fleeting blush that had appeared on Lumen's cheeks after she asked him.
"Yes. I have already explained why. This is my choice, and my way of resisting."
Lumen seemed to have made up her mind. As an observer and an employee, Orson was not in a position to say anything further.
"Wait, Natasha!"
Before Lumen could leave the room, her father came running back, panting heavily. He looked as though he had just finished a meeting.
"The butler told me you were planning to go to school?"
"Yes, Father."
"No. It's too dangerous! That bastard Baikal has already started openly hiring assassins. Our security forces are still insufficient. I can't let you take this risk!"
Head of the Rostov Family spoke urgently. Considering what the security personnel had said earlier, this newly risen noble probably had not possessed an organized private force before. Now that he was facing such ruthless, unsporting attacks from the old nobility, he must have been at an enormous disadvantage.
"There are many noble children at the school. Even Duke Baikal would not choose to act there. I will also ask for security to be strengthened along the route, so it will be fine, Father. Besides, after such a massive assassination attempt yesterday, I do not think Duke Baikal will make another move for the time being."
Lumen explained earnestly. Head of the Rostov Family frowned slightly after hearing her, as though he found her reasoning somewhat convincing.
"No... It would be different if it were anyone else, but that's W! Her combat ability might only be worth sixty points, but add explosives, ambushes, sneak attacks, grenade launchers, that deranged laugh, stirring up trouble, and cockroach-like tactile sensations, and she's worth no less than a thousand points!"
Orson spoke with a solemn expression. He knew all too well what kind of deranged personality that Theresia superfan W had. If it was W, she could absolutely blow the entire school into the sky along with everyone in it.
Because that was... W!
"W?"
Rostov and Lumen looked curious.
"Mm, I know that Sarkaz mercenary. She is my wi—cough, cough. She is an extremely dangerous person, hiding carefully calculated traps beneath her crazed exterior."
"So even the school isn't safe..."
Rostov frowned in thought, then turned his gaze toward Orson.
"—Right, how old are you, Oligey?"
"It's Orson... And my age?"
Orson hesitated. He had been seventeen when he first arrived in this world. Two years had passed, and he was already nineteen.
"Nineteen, I guess."
"Huh? You're already nineteen? I thought you were only fifteen or sixteen."
Rostov looked astonished, while Orson complained internally about why he would dare hire someone who was fifteen or sixteen.
But then he remembered that the head of Rhodes Island next door was still a fourteen-year-old girl, with a whole bunch of Operators barely into double digits under her command, and he felt better about it.
"Anyway, because Otto, you look very young, you're sixteen now. The same age as Natasha, just old enough to have entered high school."
Rostov pointed at Orson, wearing the expression of someone who had already made the decision.
"?"
Orson tilted his head, unable to understand what this nouveau riche noble was thinking.
Inside the Reunion command room:
"Orson! You'd better explain... Is that Mr. Isaac? Did something happen on Orson's end?"
"An emergency has made communication impossible? Wait... Huh? Uh, I understand. Please stay safe as well. All right."
Talula put down the radio receiver, then turned to FrostNova and Alina behind her.
"Orson went to school."
"...?"
The three girls stared at one another.
First Encounter with the Bear Squad
Peterheim Middle School—
This was one of the best-known schools in Chernobog. Its defining characteristic was that noble students and ordinary commoner students attended the same campus.
Although the noble children had their own dedicated floors and certain facilities reserved exclusively for them, overall, it was a school that accommodated both nobles and commoners.
For commoners, slogans such as "interact with nobles" and "enjoy educational resources equal to those of nobles" were extremely appealing selling points. Though everyone spoke with dissatisfaction about Chernobog's noble class, most of them still harbored some desire to attach themselves to nobility.
For the nobles, "learning early to interact with society's commoner class and better understand how society operates" was their selling point.
With such genius marketing, Peterheim Middle School quickly became Chernobog's most famous academy.
"Good morning, President."
"Good morning, Rica."
"Natalia, good morning!"
"You seem energetic today too, Yeli."
On the fourth floor of Peterheim, the level reserved for noble children, Lumen walked down the corridor, constantly smiling as she responded to students greeting her around her.
"The student council president is perfect as always. As expected of the Rostov heir!" "Of course! Natalia will become one of Chernobog's leaders in the future!"
"Haha, I'm just like everyone else, merely a student entering the next stage of life. Please stop cheering me on."
Lumen responded with a smile. None of the noble second-generation youngsters crowding around her noticed the tremor hidden beneath her tone.
Despite all those pretty words, Lumen was still afraid. She had to pretend that nothing had happened. Only then could she hold together the people around her who depended on the Rostov family.
—But Orson is here too, isn't he? He is somewhere close enough to come to me.
At the thought that she was not alone, that the "knight" was also on campus, Lumen felt a little less panicked.
As for the knight Lumen spoke of, he was currently in a classroom one floor below hers:
"Um, my name is Alan, and I'm sixteen. My hobbies are pulling rabbit tails and taking saunas. Due to changes in my family circumstances, I'll be studying with everyone for a while. Please take care of me."
Standing beside the podium, Orson stammered through a shoddy fake self-introduction in front of more than thirty bears.
The last time he had introduced himself like this was probably four or five years ago.
...No, wait, hadn't it been just a year and a half ago? Talula had tied him to a pillar and interrogated him about who he was and why he had called her his wife.
That was mortifying. Throw it in the trash.
After forcing himself to finish his nonsense, Orson was assigned to an empty seat in the last row of the classroom.
—Can I claim a business trip allowance for this too...?
Orson grumbled quietly to himself.
After Head of the Rostov Family asked about his age, Orson had been half-tricked and half-forced into attending the same school as Lumen: Peterheim Middle School.
"I'm almost twenty. Isn't this inappropriate...?"
"Don't worry. No one will be able to tell."
Lumen's Father did not give Orson much chance to object or question the plan. After making several phone calls, Orson's identity immediately changed from "senior Rostov company security officer" to "currently enrolled Peterheim Middle School freshman."
If being unemployed was the starting point, this counted as an incorrect evolution.
Since suddenly inserting a transfer student into a noble class would have been far too conspicuous and made the follow-up arrangements incredibly troublesome, Orson was ultimately thrown into Peterheim's ordinary grade as a sixteen-year-old freshman.
Perhaps people in Terra simply aged slowly, but Orson had arrived at seventeen, and after two years, neither his appearance nor his height had changed at all. Compared with the people around him, he somehow seemed even younger.
Before you continue