Phainon did not respond. He carefully sized up the indignant young man before him.
Though his face was smeared with mud and his hair was dyed a chaotic mess, upon closer inspection...
The shape of his brows and eyes, especially that occasionally revealed stubborn yet embarrassingly melodramatic expression... really did resemble Phainon a little.
More importantly...
"I'm only curious about one thing." Phainon picked up a heavy manure fork, weighed it in his hand, and asked casually:
"Some of your traits seem rather similar to those of Phainon among the Chrysos Heirs."
He pointed at the young man's messy white hair.
"Judging by those stubborn black roots growing out at the top of your head... this white hair is dyed, isn't it?"
"Yeah, so what?" As though someone had stepped on his tail, the young man's voice immediately rose, full of defiance.
"I used to dye it because I admired him. I thought he was handsome, powerful, a hero! But now, I dye it..."
The young man forcefully scooped up a huge clump of fertilizer and flung it viciously into the wooden barrel beside him.
"To remind myself, and everyone else, that heroes can turn into cowards, and idols can fall from grace."
"Why?" Phainon copied him, awkwardly scooping up a clump as well.
He tried hard to maintain the curious expression of an ordinary livestock keeper.
"Because of that... um, 'humanoid mobile concussion device' incident?"
"Hmph! That was only the fuse!"
The young man scooped up another huge clump, putting enough force into it to vent his frustrations that it nearly splattered both of them.
"I was one of the people knocked unconscious by their overwhelming aura in that high-temperature bathhouse!"
He pointed at his own nose, his face filled with grief and indignation.
"Do you know what it