Chapter 180

Chapter 180. Ku-meok-to 1

Because of Demian’s sudden icy shift in demeanor, an uncomfortable chill spread across the wide reception room. Although he wasn’t releasing any intense aura, the freezing glint within his unique eyes possessed an innate ability to make the environment completely rigid.

As the quiet stretch of time lengthened—

I kept a close watch on the unfolding scene, keeping my breaths short and shallow, behaving exactly like a lesser monster trying to stay unnoticed during a clash between giants.

“This is… getting quite problematic.”

The frosty stare coming from Demian was entirely unwelcome, and matching that energy, the warmth was gradually draining from Senior Mycelln’s expression as well.

If things kept going down this path, they wouldn’t even get around to discussing explorations or rescue operations—someone was simply going to walk away with deeply bruised feelings.

At that particular second, I truly recognized just how incredible Senior Mycelln was on a fundamental level. Given that he hadn’t yet grabbed Demian to teach him a physical lesson, the older man clearly possessed an immense amount of patience and restraint.

“Indeed. Looking at him now, he behaves like a true gentleman.”

Had I been in his shoes, my fists would have already done the talking.

“Where does he get off acting so irreverently?”

To speak to an elder in such a manner—questioning if the man was simply terrified of taking on the obligations that would come with his involvement?

Even if I chose to overlook the casual tone a hundred times over, that particular remark went entirely too far. Senior Mycelln was only offering those words out of genuine concern for the boy’s well-being.

Munch, munch.

“……”

“……”

With everyone’s gaze suddenly shifting heavily toward me, I quietly crammed the remaining piece of the pastry I had been enjoying into my mouth. It didn’t matter. I could just let it dissolve quietly without making another sound.

Regardless, the critical element right now was how Senior Mycelln chose to react.

“In the blue corner we have Demian, and in the red corner stands Mycelln.”

How exactly would the veteran figure counter the opening volley from the youth?

To my surprise, Senior Mycelln’s retort turned out to be far more polished—and showed a much higher level of maturity.

“You claim to understand? What is it exactly that you comprehend? Since you address me as ‘Teacher,’ I will treat you as my student and speak plainly. Tell me… what is it you actually grasp?”

“That danger is involved. And that it will likely be difficult.”

“Is that the extent of it?”

“What more needs to be said?”

Understood. The very moment this meeting concluded, Demian was going to undergo a rigorous session of behavioral correction.

Under normal circumstances, I might find such arrogance amusing, but in a critical scenario like this, speaking with such disrespect was bound to earn a person severe condemnation regardless of where they were.

While I quietly resolved to properly discipline Demian later, Senior Mycelln offered a composed reply.

“Should you perish, it means absolutely nothing to me.”

That was a biting statement.

Yet, his following words carried an even sharper sting.

“However, if you lose your life, do you honestly believe the consequences stop with you? What offense did the individuals who support you commit? You might view your death as a fair price for your own rebellious behavior, but those people will face immense suffering due to your thoughtless choices.”

“……”

Had he run out of retorts?

Demian merely kept his eyes fixed on Senior Mycelln, offering no counterargument.

Shifting his weight forward, Senior Mycelln adjusted how he sat to look more commanding. Then he pressed further.

“From what I can tell, you share a reasonably close bond with that attendant named Ransi. It also appears the rest of the manor’s staff serve you with genuine loyalty. But have you ever paused to consider this? The very people who show you such kindness could face severe ruin all because of your actions.”

“……”

“To your mind, this is merely a minor display of defiance. But for them, it involves their entire existence. Their livelihood—and it might very well escalate into a question of survival.”

Incredible. Every single point he made was flawless.

Indeed. That hit the mark perfectly.

They often say a stone thrown in jest can prove fatal to a helpless creature—what Demian perceived as a mere adventure could mean devastation for those around him.

Reflecting on it through a strictly serious and objective lens, Demian’s earlier stunt of fleeing toward the Black and White Zone must have caused an overwhelming amount of anxiety for the lower-ranking staff members.

To put it plainly, Senior Mycelln was attempting to instill in Demian the kind of accountability required of someone born into privilege.

“Not acting merely for yourself, but conducting yourself as the Young Lord of a noble house.”

At this point, the real curiosity lay in how Demian would mount a defense.

What would his next move be?

“Will he throw a temper tantrum? Obstinately refuse to listen? Or perhaps just hurl baseless arguments?”

No matter which path he chose, the entire discussion was bound to turn chaotic—which only meant my snacks would taste even better as entertainment.

Yet, contrary to expectations—

“…?”

Hearing what Demian uttered next, I found myself tilting my head in confusion.

“What is happening? Why…”

“I hadn’t looked at it from that perspective.”

Only a moment earlier, he had maintained a freezing, aloof expression like a cynic who understood everything, yet now he sat with a crestfallen face, admitting he had failed to think that deeply.

I wasn’t the only individual left completely speechless by this turn of events.

“Uh, right. You… you truly hadn’t considered… I see. You didn’t realize that?”

“It sounds a lot like what Mother tells me. Though I tend to forget from time to time.”

“Y-yes. Well… that is certainly something a person might overlook.”

“Master, you truly are a genuine guide.”

Somewhere along the line, the way he addressed the elder had shifted entirely from “Teacher” to “Master.”

Faced with such an abrupt reversal in temperament, both Senior Mycelln and I felt utterly bewildered, and a specific thought crossed my mind.

“Could this be a manifestation of pure malice?”

This was an unpredictable shift that a thoroughly decent person like myself could never hope to comprehend.

Demian adopted a bright, relieved expression as though he had suddenly achieved spiritual clarity, while I remained completely quiet—prompting Senior Mycelln to speak up at that exact second.

“In that case… are you withdrawing your request?”

“No.”

…So that wasn’t his intention either?

Was this entire debate about to loop back and end up right where it started? As I sat there in total confusion, Demian suddenly lifted his hand and snapped his fingers.

What exactly was his plan?

“……”

“……”

While Senior Mycelln and I looked on without a word, Demian tilted his head slightly, uttered a soft realization, and stood up from his chair.

He immediately poked his head past the doorway and bellowed for his attendant.

“Raaaaan-siiii!”

His voice resonated loudly throughout the entire residence.

Having summoned Ransi using a rather unrefined but highly effective approach, he turned back to Senior Mycelln and beamed with a look of pure, unblemished innocence.

“I’ve gained a new understanding. As of right now, I am the upgraded—Prototype Demian Version 2. Therefore, if we can just sort out this single issue, there shouldn’t be any problem with me joining you, correct?”

It didn’t take long for Ransi to appear.

Demian directed his gaze toward Ransi—whose face remained entirely expressionless as usual—and spoke as though he were presenting the most routine demand imaginable.

“Ransi.”

“Present, Young Master Demian.”

Hearing that simple response caused me to jump slightly.

“Going right into it…?”

However, the person who looked significantly more alarmed than I did was Senior Mycelln.

[Is… is this truly the correct approach to take?]

He seemed to be searching for advice from a comrade sharing the same predicament, but I deliberately chose to distance myself from that mental plea.

[Pardon? I have absolutely no idea, sir.]

[…?]

I caught nothing of that message.

At this very moment, even if the words reached me, I chose not to hear them, and even if the scene unfolded before me, I chose not to see it.

I was nothing more than Cookie-Eating Totem 1.

Feel free to address me as Ku-meok-to.

Operating strictly as a snack-consuming fixture, I dissolved into the background of the space while systematically wiping out the pastries arranged across the tabletop.

The entire situation was turning into an absolute catastrophe.

“Ahem. Cough, cough. Y-young Lord?”

“From this moment forward, you should address me as Demian, Master.”

“Hold on, for what reason would I ever become your mas—”

“You provided me with true clarity. In fact, didn’t you bestow it upon me directly?”

“Urgh…”

Just moments prior, Senior Mycelln had carried himself with the dignity of an authentic mentor, but the second the mention of family authority entered the equation, he withered like a fraudulent merchant caught red-handed by a guardian while attempting to trick a naive youngster.

Meanwhile, how was Ransi handling things?

“Am I permitted to hear the details first?”

“No, you may not.”

“You could at least offer me a small clue.”

“No, absolutely not.”

Possessing a deep familiarity with Demian’s antics, the attendant cast a highly suspicious glance across the room.

Furthermore, he didn’t stop there.

“And why exactly… me.”

His piercing gaze shifted directly toward me, silently demanding to know what sort of scheme I had dragged the boy into this time.

So how ought I to respond?

Currently, my role was strictly Ku-meok-to 1.

A mere fixture possesses no agency. Dealing with this level of accountability was a task meant for actual people.

When I subtly shifted my eyes toward Senior Mycelln, the older man gave a slight start and widened his eyes in shock.

[You piece of…!]

Ransi’s judgmental focus shifted entirely over to Senior Mycelln instead.

My diversion worked perfectly.

Perhaps finding it inappropriate to berate Senior Mycelln directly, the attendant merely let out a lengthy, heavy breath before pulling out a communication crystal device that linked straight to the lady of the house, handing it over to Demian.

“Here is the device.”

“Appreciate it. You are dismissed, Ransi.”

“Young Master, that is—”

“I gave you a clear instruction to leave.”

“…As you wish.”

Faced with Demian’s unyielding delivery, Ransi had no choice but to step out.

Even as the doorway swung shut, the glaring look he directed at Senior Mycelln carried enough hostility to easily induce nightmares.

Creak—click.

Once the attendant had fully vacated the area—

Demian turned his attention back to Senior Mycelln.

“Master, please establish a barrier against sound.”

“…!”

Demian… was actually employing respectful language?!

“I-is such an extreme measure truly required?”

“If you won’t do it, then I will.”

Demian had achieved remarkable maturity in a remarkably brief window of time.

He was using formal speech.

He even took the initiative to isolate the room’s sound himself.

Having sealed the room in an instant, Demian fixed his eyes on Senior Mycelln once more—clearly intent on securing a firm pledge before initiating the call to his mother.

“Provided this issue is resolved, we will be traveling as a group, correct?”

“No, even if you manage to resolve that—”

“I find that stance rather unfair. Is it simply because my companion hails from the Black and White Zone, implying his survival carries no weight, that he is permitted to go while I am forced to stay? If that is truly your line of reasoning, I must admit I will find myself deeply disillusioned by you, Master.”

“…!”

The second version of the boy proved incredibly formidable.

He had just delivered a more logically sound counter-argument than anything he had attempted before.

Left completely without a viable rebuttal, Senior Mycelln shot a desperate glance in my direction—pleading for assistance.

I simply closed my eyes.

“Senior, I never imagined you held such biased views, and my feelings are profoundly wounded.”

“Y-you rascal—”

“Precisely. Do not disturb me, I am currently resting.”

Left entirely abandoned like a balloon drifting away in the wind, Senior Mycelln let out a profound sigh and focused on Demian.

“Provided you obtain explicit consent from your parents…”

“You are welcome to call me Demian.”

“…Demian. If you manage to secure authorization from your mother, only then will I give the matter serious and positive thought.”

“I don’t have a father, though.”

“…?”

Ah. Senior Mycelln was still entirely unaccustomed to Demian’s jarring manner of speaking.

Though the older man faltered for a second before trying to clarify, Demian smoothly moved the conversation along without missing a beat.

“In any case, we have a deal.”

Demian practiced an expert manipulation of the magical communication crystal. It took only a moment before a voice crackled through from the alternate location.

[Is that you, Ransi? What is the matter?]

“Mother, it is I.”

[…Who is this?]

“Demian.”

[…What kind of imposter are you, you absolute scoundrel.]

Was Demian utilizing formal speech such an utterly mind-boggling concept to the matriarch that she refused to believe her own son was on the line? She clearly rejected the notion initially.

Nevertheless, it didn’t take long for her to comprehend the reality—mainly because Demian quickly adjusted the device to project a visual feed.

[Dem…ian.]

“Yes, Mother. It is indeed me.”

[What is the purpose of this call? Surely you didn’t initiate contact out of a sudden desire to hear my voice.]

Another moment of intense curiosity.

What exactly would Demian declare next?

Chomp, chomp.

[Who is that occupying the space next to you?]

“A companion of mine.”

My apologies. Was that chewing sound far too noticeable?

It couldn’t be helped, though. I was operating as Ku-meok-to 1, having just stirred from a brief slumber—a tragic entity whose entire purpose for being evaporates the exact instant I stop consuming the pastries.

Regardless, as I rapidly shoved snacks down to maintain my presence, both Senior Mycelln and I kept our eyes glued to Demian with incredibly anxious expressions.

At that point, Demian parted his lips to speak.

How should I even describe it.

“Has this absolute lunatic… completely lost his mind?”

I was utterly dumbfounded.

Completely and thoroughly stunned.

I typically view myself as someone who remains unshakeable under any circumstances, but the version of Demian standing before me now exhibited a level of insanity that far surpassed any eccentric I had ever encountered.

The opening statement Demian chose to deliver to his mother went exactly like this:

“Mother, I believe my life may be coming to an end.”