Before being transported here, because of his own failed life, Mousse had always felt that his parents' upbringing could hardly be called successful.
Weak and sickly, unable to do any demanding work, with a personality adults did not like—despite having exceptional intelligence and knowledge, he could not put them to use. Worse, seeing society's truths more clearly only made him suffer more.
It would have been better if they had not been so strict when he was young. At least then his body would not have been ruined, and his social skills should have been better. He might not have gotten into a good university, but once he entered society and did practical work, a sturdy, dependable, unpretentious office drone like that would actually have been more valuable.
But now, Mousse finally understood what his parents had succeeded at in his previous life. The values they had shaped in him from childhood were upright and firm enough to completely suppress his nearly antisocial nature. That alone meant their education could not be called a failure.
Even in this life, born into a pirate family with fewer restraints and influenced by his surroundings, his instinctive disregard for life seemed to have grown stronger. Yet Mousse could at least make sure never to harm anyone unless there was absolutely no need.
"Being a little useless just means contributing less to society, living a worse life, and not finding a wife. That's still better than harming society, disgracing the family, and ending up getting shot, right?"
Mousse sighed with mixed feelings. He only snapped back to himself when his arm suddenly hurt. Nico Robin had pinched him when she saw him spacing out.
Then Mousse silently resumed his previous work, making all the words the little girl wanted to say stick in her