"Then let's move on to the next question. What does your father do for a living?" Madehua continued.
After a moment's thought, Richie said, "My father does something very great. He works to protect this world, to make it a place where no one cries anymore, tempering his body and mind through trials that constantly bring him face-to-face with death."
Henry frowned. Why was this different from what Anya Forger had said that morning?
Swan sneered. He doesn't even dare say it outright. It must be some disreputable job.
Madehua pondered. What exactly does he do?
Richie continued, "My father is a psychiatrist. He works to give the best treatment to patients hovering on the brink of death. I think his profession is a very great one."
Twilight let out another sigh of relief. Richie always said such strange things. Fortunately, most of what he had said during this interview had been fairly normal.
Realization dawned on Madehua. So that's it. He's a psychiatrist!
He asked another question. "What sort of person do you think your new mother is?"
Richie's voice still held a childish softness, but it rang clear and pleasant:
"My mother is a very gentle person, but sometimes she's very scary, too." The incident where she had hugged Yuri as a child and broken three of his ribs was especially frightening.
Everything else was fine. Although his mother was an assassin, she wouldn't kill them. Instead, she would protect them, which was a good thing.
Madehua continued, "If you could give your father and mother a score, what would you give them?"
Without hesitation, Richie blurted out, "A perfect hundred! My father and mother are both wonderful. They're the best!"
"I want to be with them forever. I really want to be with them forever!" Richie's cheeks flushed, and he looked a little shy.
At the same time, he felt a little sad. If only he really could stay here. Sorrow crept into his gaze, filling his aqua-blue eyes.
Of everything Richie had said, this was probably the most heartfelt statement of all!
Even Twilight was moved.
Anya and Richie had said the same thing. These two children had been shuffled from place to place and abandoned repeatedly. They truly needed a home.
Twilight claimed it was all for the mission, but he had already grown attached.
Swan felt sick to his stomach. Who wants to listen to this repetitive drivel?
The moment that disgusting expression appeared on Swan's face, Richie knew the question that had made Anya break down and sent Twilight into a rage was coming!
Swan sneered. Let's see how you survive another jab. "Then which is better, your current mama or your old mama?"
Swan was thrilled. In his mind, he kept chanting, Cry. Cry. Come on, cry...
Richie remained composed. He took a deep breath and said calmly, "Whether it's my former mother or my current mother, I love them both.
"The kindness of raising a child outweighs the kindness of giving birth. Being born made me a human being, but being raised made me someone whose life truly has meaning.
"My mother now treats me very well, and I'll be grateful to her."
When Richie finished, he looked at Yor with heartfelt affection, meeting her eyes.
Yor was a little stunned and deeply moved. Tears even welled up in her eyes.
As Richie's gaze left Yor, it lingered briefly on Twilight before sweeping past. He was grateful to Twilight, too.
Richie's eyes were now rimmed with red, tears threatening to spill. His voice caught as he struggled to keep his shoulders from shaking and his emotions from overflowing.
Even Swan, that fat bastard who was usually so overbearing, lost his bluster. He was afraid Henry would hit him as he had that morning.
But this time, Henry didn't act. Instead, Headmaster Madehua could no longer hold back.
"Mr. Swan, your questions today may have been far too inappropriate," Madehua said angrily. "I will report this to the headmaster exactly as it happened. You can wait for his decision!"
Madehua was seething inside. You dare bully my future apprentice? Aren't you getting a little too arrogant, Swan? This time, I'll make you pay.
Twilight was once again on the verge of losing control, but Richie reacted first. He pattered over to Twilight, leaned against his legs, and gently tugged at his clothes:
"Father, don't be angry. I... I'm all right!"
Twilight's heart ached even more. Blood had already seeped through the bandage wrapped around his hand, showing just how furious he was.
He gently stroked Richie's back, comforting him in silence.
Richie had truly suffered for the sake of the mission. Twilight silently resolved to make it up to him once he passed the interview.
Richie was so considerate that it hurt.
Richie lifted his little face, his eyes glistening, forced out a smile, then ran back to his seat.
Even more pleased with the boy, Madehua asked, "Richie, what works of art did you see on your recent visit to the Art Museum?"
A bolt of lightning flashed through Richie's mind. What exhibits? I... I wasn't paying attention!
Richie went straight from heartfelt emotion to nervous cold sweats. He stammered, "Louis XVI's guillotine, a bald head, after a bath, not..."
His voice grew quieter and quieter until it was no more than a fly's buzzing.
Twilight stared blankly. What on earth is Richie saying? It's over. We're doomed again.
Madehua didn't seem particularly concerned about which works of art Richie had seen. He moved on to the next question:
"Then, during your break, did you draw anything on the graffiti wall at the Art Museum?"
Richie's eyes lit up. Could the masterpiece Madehua has in mind be that picture I casually scribbled on the Art Museum's graffiti wall?
But his work was so immature. There was almost no chance it could have caught the eye of such a respected old man.
After a moment's hesitant thought, Richie said, "I did draw on the Art Museum's wall over the weekend, but..."
Before you continue