Living in different worlds (no chanter) - The Yufuwa Talent Dispatch Life of the Regenerating Wizard

The shadows of the garden grass trees became completely thick and summer arrived in Turkiiba.

A very large number of people packed up on Schenker Avenue in front of the Magical Schenker Group headquarters on this day.

Your aim is the Torquiiba Talababara Trading Team that went to the end of the north and came back.

It is the triumph of the adventurers, who have returned with their treasures.

The worn out, drooling adventurers walk around five carriages as the powerful music rings, greeted by the cheers of those gathered.

On the other day, things were completely different from the musical team that came back from Wang Du on the train with a crisp courtesy, and this one is all uniformly lean, dirty and smelly.

Some were injured, some were coughing up all the blood, and some were traveling so that they could be bracketed on the carriage, but all of them emitted a ray of life from their eyes.

"Tolkiiba Talababara Trading Team, we are all back safely after completing our assignment now!

Delegate Dillen, cluttered with straw tied her completely long dark hair, knelt before me and inventoried it.

I take it firmly and nod deeply as I plunge my homing recovery magic into all my trading squads.

"It is dauntless. Everyone take your time off today...... get ready for tomorrow's big banquet!

From all around, there was cheering and gorgeous music playing to boost it, but the faces of the trading team never showed their teeth until the wagon entered the warehouse.

I'm looking forward to Gillen's report on what the hell they've been through.

Three days later, I was at the Magical Schenker Group headquarters getting a report from Gillen.

They said a tremendous amount of ingredients and liquor flew away at the big banquet yesterday, but only food and liquor is literally sold in our warehouse, I'm not going to kettle it out.

Cut off his hair and stunned, Gillen told me about the great adventure of longitudinal north and south looking at the notebooks he would have written on the road, but little information seemed to be available about the Japanese at the heart.

Disappointing, but it's a world where literacy rates are low and the common people are passing on culture and history in an oral way, I can't help it when it comes to it.

"So you're saying that no one in the home of Sister-in-law Linalina inherited oral information from Kandinava, etc."

"Yes, apparently Mr. Leuzoge's blood muscles over there were interrupted about a hundred years ago, and only culture and origins are transmitted to this day"

No, and rubbing persimmon leaf tea (...), I dropped my eyes on Gillen's report.

Regardless of the information, the results that the trading team brought home this time were enormous.

Barrels of soy sauce, primitive miso compared to previous life, tsubaki, persimmon seedlings, soybeans, slightly elongated brown rice that was treasured as medicine, and its seeds (...).

Honestly, my heart shook at this.

I shouldn't be able to remember the taste of rice anymore, but I just couldn't wait to smell the brown rice and it hurt my chest.

I'm sure Mr. Ryuzukuji was also as crazy happy as he was when he found rice in this world.

"There was also an exorcism statue to put on the roof, etc., but they told me it would take a while to make it and I gave up. And there were swords like handicrafts, but because they were so brittle and coarse, they were just a bunch of them..."

"Right, no thanks. That's more than enough. Menchi, give me that."

"Yes."

I bought clothes, cut my hair, and handed about ten pieces of gold from a gold pocket offered by a mentor I had refrained next to me to a much more snug dillen than I had when I returned.

"Thank you, let me share it with you"

"No, that's what Dillen took. From now on, I'm in a position to be seen as a person."

I loaded an extra fifty or so pieces of gold on my desk, and I pushed her to divide them evenly among the people below.

About five million yen in Japanese yen, or once the trading team has a regular reward, the more we divide it by all, the more bonuses there will be.

"Thank you"

"Work needs consideration, if you get lost in rewarding your men, talk to Chicken"

Blah, blah, blah. It's like a celebration because I'm happy, but I don't really want Dillen to be an asshole starting today.

I have about enough money to pay my employees, my organization.

The musical team and the pickle group that were on a business trip came back and as a Schenker group, it was a relief, but I had a lot left to work out for myself.

My wife, Laura, said it was a moon, but I still don't have a named parent I have to decide on.

A named parent for a nobleman refers to a back shield other than his parents.

For my home, where I couldn't count on Laura's parents, only my father could count on me.

Of course, I have asked for it many times, but until now I have been relaxed for some reason.

But there is no respite for weeks before childbirth anymore.

I finally struck my father straight at home this night.

"Father! Name your child!

My father, who was alone in the work room, seemed to be sitting at the desk and writing, and when he saw something about me, he took off his glasses with a sigh.

This room, which I felt quite widely as a child, is as small as it is now for the head of the Great Chamber of Commerce.

In front of the clerk's desk, which was placed to back the window in the deepest part, there was a business negotiation space sandwiched between a document shelf and a little liquor or glass shelf, with an unadorned lighting shaped demon illuminating it.

"That's noisy, well, sit down"

My father, slowly standing out of the butler desk, says as he takes the liquor and glass out of the shelf, but I stuck it to him as the momentum came in.

"No, I won't sit down, say yeah! Why are you so reluctant, what don't you like!

"... well, sit down"

My father, who leaned over with a rare, dark face, urged me again, and I sat on a face-to-face couch pinching an unacceptable low table

"My youngest son's life after you finally become a parent or have a child is a hassle"

My father said so smudgingly as he slowly poured wine into a glass with two lined legs, and apologized for looking me in the eye as he offered it to slide his desk.

"I would have been angry at me for being reluctant to name your child. All for a reason, forgive me."

"Why?"

"First, that's all I'm saying"

"I didn't avoid naming you because your wife, Lord Laura, or the child you're born with, is horrible."

……

"Brett, the head of this Schenker Chamber of Commerce, is the second seat of a commercial guild, lean or withered. My wife was also a wizard, and I intend to keep my grandchildren fearless until I die."

"Oh."

"Look, what we're going to talk about is what we were going to take to the grave. Listen to me with that intent. I think it might be harder for you not to know than to be a nobleman."

"... what the hell"

Only one bite of wine dampened his mouth, and his father began to talk pompous.

"My grandfather, the ancestor of the Schenker family, was a great hero and a national bandit."

"National thief?"

Father nods deeply and deeply, glancing through the triangle at his desk with his fingers.

"I cow-eared this barn zone, including Turkiiba, and used wheat to threaten the army to plunder the mountains of gold coins, to take away the princess of the great nobility who came to crusade and give birth to her son"

"That's fucked up"

"Yes, he's a messed up person. I hear the power wasn't normal, and he was psychic enough to twist and bend the Great River stream."

"Phew."

"And this is what the man was called... with the 'Blackbeard' Schenker"

"Blackbeard."

I don't see the story.

Even though my ancestors said they were unscrupulous, I don't really think the Army cares about that right now.

Unlike wizards, who are more or less systematic as academics, the powers of the psychic are limited to one generation.

That's why I was able to be a wizard just because of my talent, and I was recognized for my accomplishments and even became a nobleman.

It has nothing to do with me about my distant ancestors.

"In the age of Blackbeard's life, this barn zone belonged to civilians. The aristocrats have attacked again and again, but they have finally failed to take over my great-grandfather."

"Fine, but what does that black beard have to do with me?"

"Blackbeard then died of life, and the city returned to the hands of the wizards, though. In those days, seeds were scattered among the innocent sheep."

"Seeds?"

"It's a forbidden seed. They knew that there was a form of a country where people could stretch and live, where the wizards could not abandon them like cattle."

"Even so, even the kids there know that a city can't be established without the power of a wizard as a violent device. I'll never be more reliant on mutant monsters."

"That's how I can break it off, because you got that kind of education. There's no way a simple civilian in the world can understand the two-sided nature of things. You can't tell by the pain of tooth decay that comes after sweet honey."

"Are you saying that civilians are potentially seeking liberation?

"Yes, even if it were hell ahead, if we had the power to do it again with the wizard, the civilians would go as far as they got as they sang, even with their noses. One day you don't have to worry about suddenly becoming a slave, you don't have to starve or freeze to believe you have an ideal home."

I don't want to talk about it.

Without the wizard, this country, with its rich plains, would be attacked and destroyed from all directions.

Even if that doesn't happen, the next hell of a time is set for civilians to start disposing of civilians like livestock.

Even in my hometown, the company treated me like a livestock, and I screwed up miserably.

Whether with strange magical powers or not, human nature remains the same.

"An ideal home is something that drives people crazy, even if the inside didn't. In fact, here in Turkiiba at the time, people gathered in the jade stone mix, from criminals to prostitutes, that it was more like a bandit fort than a rich country."

"I don't know... I have to leave it to the wizard, even though this country (...) isn't going to be that bad"

"Wizards are like gods, but they are also provocative and intolerant gods everywhere. And if there was another god who could face it head-on, I don't know what it's like to be an asylum seeker."

"But he lost to the wizard without being able to raise the next generation, didn't he?

So it's none of my business, you know, and you kept looking at me like that, and my dad sighed deeply and deeply.

"But you were born in a few generations."

"Huh? Me?

"Yes, a Schönker boy who is a wizard but saves an unsaveable slave and brings his private soldiers together to build strength. If anyone tells the legend of Blackbeard by mouth, I'm sure he'll try to take charge of you."

My father drank wine in one breath, put the glass down and looked at me with a serious face.

"Look, Blackbeard had forty-eight named men. Blackbeard himself made a name for himself, living and filthy, rigid men with a piece of each of them as civilians. Perhaps some of its descendants will survive here in Turkiiba, perhaps they are after you"

"Hmm."

"So don't get on with suspicious temptations"

While pouring wine into my father's empty glass, the other day's interaction with the slave trader Perseus was resurrecting behind my brain.

"Grow a mustache when you're a little older," I think that's all he said.

Maybe that was it.

"... No, the other day, my grandfather in Perseus told me to grow a mustache"

"What? Perseus..."

My father seemed to be somewhat shocked by the words, his eyes closed tightly and his wine frowned with a bitter face.

"Well... Perseus. Is that what the store owner inherited Perseus's name from generation to generation..."

Saying so in a small voice, his father held his hands together in front of his face to pray as he leaned down.

"When you hear that, you can't be your child's namesake more and more. Blackbeard Schenker's name only calls for trouble."

Unexpectedly, my father grips my right hand wrapped in both hands.

The hand, which was only supposed to be in its early fifties, was dried up in a cassava and stood in verse to me like a dead tree.

"Look, Sawadi, you, your children, from now on, we're going to live by abandoning the name of Schenker. Do not bear the blame of your fathers."

My father, who kept leaning down, suddenly looked small.

A big father who watched over Nico and our brothers at all times, almost bowed his head, while a strong father who never gave way where he could not give way, shriveled small at all and was old as a dried persimmon.

So I couldn't have said anything like that.

"Oh, my God."

My father slowly raised his face to my words.

It was a good man's face, engraved with wrinkles of hard work.

"My ancestors would be the big sinners, but it's not a big deal for me or my kids. You seem to be freaking out about relics from the past. You can't do this in a wizard society full of charms."

The world of wizards is always a lifeline.

War, politics, irresponsibility above, is another mere patrol, with instant death bombs rolling everywhere.

Even Laura, the daughter of a great nobleman, is dying, a crazy world.

If I'd known it was a world like this, I would have definitely never wanted to be a wizard.

But that's why I didn't mean to freak out about my ancestors' fallen curses.

"But..."

I still tell my reluctant father to beg at a distance where his nose and nose are likely to stick together.

What's on my chest right now is no anger or doubt about my father, it's just loneliness.

"I am, Dad. I simply want you to bless my child. I want my children to know that I was born because my father, my mother, my grandfather wanted me to be."

"No, but..."

"Please, Father, you can think of this as your last selfishness. I don't want your name in the Schenker family, I want you, my father, to be the child's namesake."

My father must have been serious about me as a father.

But push that feeling. But I wanted to connect my father with the child I was born with.

I just wanted you to know that I'm inheriting the blood of these people from my newborn child.

"No..."

My father frowned with his eyes closed and kept his mouth shut for a while, but he finally wiped with his hand only one strand of tears flowing, and finally shook his face vertically.

"Okay. Let's name it."

"Like really!?

"Just be really careful about the Blackbeard thing, never take your eyes off the kid"

"Oh, sure."

Standing up looking like his soul had fallen out with his chi, his father took a tight liquor out of the shelf.

Pour that liquor in whatever glass you have half of the wine left, drink it up at once and say it's pompous.

"'Noah' for a man, 'Lax' for a woman... this took me a year to think"

"Father."

My father laughed more with only the edge of his mouth lifted as he leaned down, pouring booze into my glass.

On this day, the two men, who drank all the liquor on the shelf, slept side by side on the couch with each other, waking up during the day to deliver their names to Laura.

And three weeks later, a healthy twin was born, and the names Noah and Lax were both to be used.