Chapter 10: The eldest son is too kind(2)
No parent wants their child to walk a difficult path. For a man, the easiest way to live well is to marry a good woman. But good women have discerning eyes. Ordinary women are eager to date men, but good women are surrounded by suitors. They have no reason to easily accept just any man’s affection. To win such a woman, men hone their ultimate skill: groom training.
“Groom training involves mastering household chores, maintaining a neat and graceful demeanor, and learning proper etiquette for public events.”
Pleased with my eloquence, Teresa hired a one-day private tutor to assess how well I was suited for groom training and what areas needed improvement. This meant being tested on chores, proper conduct, and etiquette.
“Gorgo, save me.”
“I’m jealous of you.”
“Me?”
With flour on my cheeks, I silently protested how he could say that seeing my state. But to Gorgo, I just looked cute with flour on my face.
“Groom training is for wealthy households. How could an ordinary family afford education to meet a good woman? It’s just playing house.”
In a world where magic mimics modern technology to an extent, it doesn’t translate to advanced civic consciousness or philosophical achievements. Mana and skills solidify the power of the strong and entrench class divides. A rigid society demands immense costs to break free from one’s station, and parents or siblings without the means crush dreams of upward mobility to survive.
“Wow, cooking! Mom, I wanna learn too…”
A child pointing at me cooking through the window was dragged away by their parent. Slap! The boy, cheek red, looked up tearfully, but his mother scolded harshly.
“We barely scrape by day to day, and you want groom training? Wake up. That’s for the elite.”
I watched silently. The boy’s swollen cheek, his dark eyes devoid of stars, turning away without a sound, passersby accepting it as normal. Inside the warm training room, Gorgo, the tutor, and I looked at my flour-covered hands.
“Still want to quit?”
“…No.”
I had no interest in groom training. But I knew how precious this opportunity was, what Teresa sacrificed for it, and why Gorgo was jealous. Knowledge of chores, natural for survival, and cooking, a hobby for modern people, were no longer ordinary or trivial. To some, they were as unattainable as stars in the night sky.
“Next is laundry. Describe orally or in writing the use of basic laundry magic, hand-washing, and methods for different clothing types and quantities.”
I wrote fluidly, pen in hand. The tutor was stunned. Such proficiency in Korean. Even English letters for modern magic were written effortlessly. Translating ancient runic Chinese into Korean sparked thoughts of genius.
Fantasy. An era of swords, magic, monsters, savagery, and myths. In a time when humans die like flies, education and skilled talent are rare. Without being born privileged, learning opportunities are scarce, and the time and money required are on a different scale than modern Earth. In such an era, even the compulsory education of a Korean player rivals noble learning.
“At such a young age, such remarkable achievement. Not just talent, but considering the harsh adventurer environment, you have exceptional parents.”
I thought of my parents. Not Teresa, but my real parents who birthed me. To this other world, to the afterlife. Parents who abandoned me. All my household skills weren’t learned from them. They were duties for an orphan to survive. Survival-driven chores.
“Next, describe orally or in writing cleaning methods using various tools.”
“Sewing techniques…”
“Shopping methods by area and item…”
Memories of hardship. Labor ingrained like habit. The overwhelming sense that if I closed my eyes on a shabby bed, I’d wake in an empty studio apartment. The muffled world, like sinking underwater, grew louder. Coming to, the training was over, and Gorgo looked at me with concern.
“You okay? You’ve been dazed.”
“It’s nothing. Just tired.”
I shook my head, casting off the heavy reality. The discomfort of an old inn with family was preferable to the comfort of an empty studio. Seeing Teresa and Anna waiting for me confirmed it. The home to return to isn’t on Earth. It’s here.
“Ian, how was the training?”
“Good.”
“Gorgo, what did the tutor say?”
“Here’s the evaluation and recommendation letter. He excels in all areas compared to peers, especially in advanced knowledge.”
“Advanced knowledge?”
“He could work as a servant in a noble household in the nearby city immediately. His literacy and achievements are exceptional, suitable for a scholar or official.”
“Literacy?”
Teresa’s expression grew serious. Advanced knowledge. Literacy. None of it taught by her. Yet Ian knew it. This wasn’t to be taken lightly.
“Ian, where did you learn to read and know all this?”
I had all sorts of strange skills and knowledge. My usual excuse: an alley lady taught me. That worked until now. The burned, wretched attacker might’ve been a fallen noble like Teresa, so it was plausible. But if she meant to teach something valuable, she wouldn’t have passed on brothel knowledge like Fairy Lilac. Lubricant for adults and literacy or advanced knowledge couldn’t coexist. Suspicion. Under Teresa’s blunt gaze, I answered.
“A merchant from the Cheperin Trading Company taught me.”
More believable than an alley lady.
“English and Chinese, even languages for modern and ancient magic?”
Teresa thought of a more rational possibility.
“Your father was a mage. He could’ve taught you magical languages and advanced knowledge.”
“…!”
Her eyes held a hint of betrayal.
“When did it start? When did that man secretly educate you behind my back, never showing his vile face?”
I was speechless. It was just an excuse to explain my player knowledge. I only wanted to honor the precious opportunity Teresa gave me and not waste her sacrifice. But it hurt her. My biological father. Teresa’s husband. The man who abandoned the family. She misunderstood that he secretly taught me, that I hid it and deceived her. For someone with faith, trust is as vital as life itself.
Who am I? An abandoned woman. A wounded beast. What should I say to a mother craving the truth? Reveal I’m a player? That their lives are fake, existing for my amusement? Not for a moment did I consider that.
Time to take the first step in adventurer training. Join the Adventurer’s Guild as a staff member and achieve your first success.
Reward: Enhanced Brainwashing Ability
I delayed the tutorial, keeping its window in my vision’s corner, because I didn’t want to lose this second family, this second life. So my dilemma focused on what answer would best serve Mother and the family.
“Answer me!”
Mother hates Father. Beyond hatred, she harbors murderous intent. A son secretly educated by such a man. She must feel betrayed and confused. She wants me to deny it, but even if I did, she wouldn’t believe me. If my existence only causes her pain…
[Brainwashing Ability]
[Basic – This ability can twist and control a person’s mind.]
‘That kind of heart isn’t worth having.’
Brainwashing twists the human mind. It deceives emotions. It can’t erase hatred or anger but can redirect them. For instance, making someone forget the target of their hatred, letting it subside. Even if anger surges, they can’t recall why. I know the keywords for this brainwashing. I’ve done it before. In the game’s tutorial, I always used it. A shred of mercy, not wanting to cause pain even to prologue parents. Hoping a mother who said her life was ruined by her child could start anew without them. I repeat what I’ve always done.
I am a mind controller. A deceiver who twists and manipulates hearts. With this wicked power, I…
[Brainwash Activated]
[Target – Mother]
[Command – Forget the child who causes you pain.]
I’ll vanish from Mother’s life, her memory. The hand gripping my collar loosened.
It worked.
Not all brainwashing succeeds. The less the target desires it, the lower the chance. It doesn’t work on strong-willed people. Teresa of Motherhood is stronger than anyone, unlike her drunken days. Yet, if it worked on her, there’s only one reason. A child taught by a despicable husband. Her hatred for him turned to me. She truly wanted me gone, the child resembling her husband. If that’s your wish, I’ll accept it.
Goodbye.
“…”
Hiding my sadness, I turned and stepped forward. One step. Two steps. My heavy, weary steps stopped. Teresa’s strong yet fragile arms embraced me from behind.
“Don’t say that.”
“…!”
“Answer. Swear you’ll never say that again…!”
Whose tears flowed down my cheek, I didn’t know. All I could do was nod.