A Mastermind? No, I'm just the Live-In Son-in-Law-Chapter 71: Test Subject
—Test Subject 001-P. Ability transplant complete. No signs of rejection.
The first thing Test Subject 001-P—who would later be known as Parsha—ever saw was the multitude of gazes staring at her as she floated inside a glass chamber.
—What should we do? Since this is the first case without rejection, should we monitor a bit longer, or...
—Continue the experiment.
And among all those gazes, the one she remembered most vividly was the pair of eyes belonging to a woman who looked at her with satisfaction.
—There’s no shortage of test subjects anyway.
The woman who granted her power and a mission, and reminded her of that reason again and again. Eyes she could never forget, no matter how hard she tried.
Even after she'd narrowly escaped that gaze, it would sometimes appear in her dreams, constricting her with its spine-chilling intensity.
Whenever she remembered it, Parsha would wake up screaming without even realizing it.
“Hiiik!”
Just like now.
“Haa, haa....”
It was a look that didn’t suit her usual smirking, cheeky expression at all.
“...Ah.”
Knowing that full well, Parsha unconsciously darted her eyes around. Then she quickly turned her gaze to her shoulder.
“.......”
And then, her eyes drooped helplessly.
‘I thought for sure this time... I’d fully become Master’s.’
The black magic mark that had always been carved into her shoulder had faded just a little—but it was still there.
In comparison, the mark imbued with Whitney’s mana, while it had grown slightly darker, still wasn’t as distinct as the old one.
“...Ah.”
Disappointed, Parsha stared down at her shoulder, but then froze as she sensed movement nearby and turned her head.
“Haha... You’re awake?”
“.......”
“Looks like you had a nightmare.”
Whitney was sitting right beside the bed, gazing down at her with his signature eerie smile.
“How are you feeling? What about your shoulder?”
“I-I'm fine!”
“For someone who’s fine, the wound still hasn’t healed...”
As Parsha faltered, Whitney reached a hand toward her.
“...Mm.”
But this time, his hand hesitated and stopped just before touching her shoulder.
“This is a scar...”
“.......”
“...So this wasn’t the first time.”
His voice dropped lower, and there was a faint trace of anger in Whitney’s murmur.
“I-I’m sorry.”
“...Hm?”
“I did something wrong...”
Sensing it instantly, Parsha panicked and hurriedly begged for forgiveness. Whitney tilted his head slightly before sighing.
“...Haa.”
For just a moment, the image of Parsha nervously scratching her shoulder overlapped with the trembling figure of Meredia in his mind.
“I don’t know who did this to you, but rest assured.”
“I don’t know who did this to you, but rest assured.”
“Ah.”
“As long as I’m your employer, no one will be able to lay a finger on you so easily.”
As he gently held Parsha’s hand and whispered, she blinked and quietly lowered her head.
The source of this c𝐨ntent is freёnovelkiss.com.
“And about the letter this time...”
“I-I’ll tell you everything I know, if that’s what you want—”
“...No. That won’t be necessary.”
As she broke into a cold sweat and tried to speak, Whitney shook his head firmly, cutting her off.
“I want you to tell me when you're ready, Parsha.”
“Oh......”
Parsha mulled over those words for a moment, then tilted her head with a blank expression that was unlike her.
“...S-Sorry, but I don’t quite understand.”
“Which part, exactly?”
Still watching Whitney closely, Parsha looked increasingly flustered as she continued in a stammering voice.
“Of course, I’m confident when it comes to carrying out orders or raising you to a higher position...”
“.......”
“But I’ve never made decisions based on myself. Not even once.”
Whitney’s gaze softened slightly at those words, and Parsha, now visibly pale, hurried to speak again.
“I-I mean—can’t you just give me an order? Like, if I value my life, I have to tell you everything right now...”
“Haha, then I’d sound like some third-rate villain, wouldn’t I?”
“Haha, then I’d sound like some third-rate villain, wouldn’t I?”
“...Ah, sorry. That really doesn’t suit a Demon King.”
Whitney chuckled, and gently patted Parsha’s head as she clamped her mouth shut, realizing her slip.
“It may be a difficult request, but... I hope you’ll take this opportunity to change a little, Parsha.”
“.......”
“...You are my capable butler. I know you can do it.”
“...You are my capable butler. I know you can do it.”
At those words, Parsha instinctively fumbled with the monocle Whitney had once gifted her, tucked inside her pocket. Then, in a flash, she yanked the blanket up to just below her eyes.
“A-Again... it feels weird.”
“Yes?”
“It’s kind of... tingly? I don’t know, it just feels...”
Whitney saw her flushed cheeks as she murmured from beneath the covers, her face barely visible.
He quietly placed a hand on her forehead and whispered once more.
“For now, get some rest. I’ll handle your duties for the time being...”
“...Ah.”
“I’ll cast a light sleep spell to help you rest. Then...”
And just like that, a comforting drowsiness crept over her.
‘...I’m not really sure why, but...’
As Parsha’s eyes slowly closed in the haze of sleep, she looked up at Whitney’s worried gaze and murmured to herself.
‘I think you really are the master I’m meant to serve...’
Unlike a certain someone—someone who never opened their eyes.
And because of that, paradoxically, she could look him in the face without fear. A master she had chosen with her own will.
Unlike a certain someone—someone who never opened their eyes.
And because of that, paradoxically, she could look him in the face without fear. A master she had chosen with her own will.
‘Even if you’re not the Demon King...’
What began as a means to fulfill her given mission... was now slowly becoming her goal itself.
“...Now then, I should get back to you.”
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
Still lingering on the sensation of that first flicker of self, Parsha heard Whitney’s chilling voice and used the last of her strength to crack her eyes open.
“Ripaelius Mortem Infernus.”
“...Gghk.”
“Still haven’t realized that pointless resistance won’t save you?”
Her master, who had until then been looming over the trembling archdemon, now crushed its head beneath his heel, exuding a terrifying murderous intent.
“Heehee...”
Watching that scene, Parsha let the corners of her lips curl into a grin before finally closing her eyes completely and thinking:
‘...Though being the Demon King would be even better.’
In truth, beyond duty or goals, Parsha had always simply had... tastes like that.
***
After putting Parsha—who had no doubt been through a lot—to rest in my room, I spent the next few hours conducting ideological education on the archdemon.
“Alright, then. Let’s review what you’ve learned.”
“...Urrgh.”
I had finally succeeded in taming the thing to some extent.
“Sit.”
“Hiss...!”
“Paw.”
“Grrrk...!”
Sure, all I’d done was teach her basic commands like ‘sit’ and ‘paw,’ but compared to how she was when we first met, it was undeniable progress.
“Good girl. Well done.”
“I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you...”
Of course, I hadn’t yet cured her of that habit of baring her shark-like demon fangs at me and radiating murderous intent.
Still, I figured I should take it as an achievement that she had gotten used to being controlled by her true name.
“Congratulations...”
“A-As expected... You truly are a Hero...”
“A-As expected... You truly are a Hero...”
“W-Wow...”
While I stood there smiling to myself in satisfaction, the maids who had been nervously observing my training from the edge of the mansion’s garden began applauding me with pale faces.
“It’s always been my dream to raise a pet since I was little. Haha...”
“O-Oh, really?”
Putting on a show for them, I said proudly, then added in a soft voice with a warm smile.
“Yes, this pet in particular... is really to my liking.”
“.......”
“Strong, good at guarding the house... and seems like it’d be fun to train.”
Of course, I wasn’t serious.
I was merely following the communication guide Alfred had left behind—page 28, to be exact: “When dealing with someone you’re not close to, use light jokes to ease the mood.”
“A-Ahaha...”
“Th-The new pet, huh...”
“...H-Hic.”
As expected, everyone laughed, clearly getting the point of my high-level humor—treating a vicious demon like a household pet was the punchline.
‘Alright, I’m definitely using this one again later...’
“...Hey, brother.”
Just as I was enjoying the satisfied smile on my face, Cecil—who was standing next to me in Lunelle’s place to act as my bodyguard while the knight order was being founded—spoke to me in a quiet voice.
“Sorry, but don’t make jokes like that again.”
“Huh? You didn’t like it?”
“No, it’s not about liking it or not... Haa.”
As I tilted my head, a bit confused, Cecil gave me a look I couldn’t even describe, and then hit me with something shocking.
“...Honestly, it wasn’t even funny.”
“...Gasp.”
“You’re the first person I’ve met who tells worse jokes than Alfred.”
Even coming from Cecil, that was unacceptable.
“...Does everyone else feel the same way?”
At that point, I had no choice but to poll the room for an objective judgment.
“Ah, n-no!”
“I-I thought it was funny!”
“I-I didn’t even know it was a joke... I mean, it was amazing!”
And just as expected, after exchanging nervous glances, the maids all unanimously sided with me.
“Now, who’s the one lacking a sense of humor?”
“...Ugh.”
Feeling even more triumphant, I shot Cecil a look of smug defiance as she sighed and pressed a hand to her forehead.
“You’re really starting to act like the Demon King...”
“...What?”
“No way... That can’t be, right...?”
It was then that Ripael, still crouched in front of me and growling, narrowed her eyes and muttered those words.
‘...Now that I think about it, this one really is dumb as rocks.’
Noticing the dumb expression on her face, I quietly curled my lips into a grin as one idea flashed through my mind.
‘I might actually be able to fool her.’
She claimed to have been the Demon King’s right hand, but in truth, Ripael was so stupid that even among the archdemons, she was considered a throwaway piece.
But if I could somehow use that trait to my advantage and completely deceive her?
I might just be able to turn this problematic demon into a combat asset on par with Lunelle.
‘If I really go all-in and stage a proper performance... this could actually work...’
The only problem was whether I could convincingly act like the Demon King.
To be honest, I wasn’t very confident.
I mean, who’s going to believe someone as clean-cut as me playing the part of the Demon King?
“Hmm. Ahem.”
Still, I had nothing to lose, so after glancing around °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° at everyone, I cleared my throat and spoke.
“Ha. So you've finally recognized the Demon King of this era.”
And then—silence settled across the garden.
“...Brother?”
As the hush stretched on like death itself, Cecil turned to me, eyes wide open.
“Y-You’re joking, right...?”
“.......”
“It’s a joke... right? Please?”
When I turned away from her and glanced at the maids, they were all trembling, their heads bowed, not daring to look up.
‘...Why?’
All I did was deepen my voice a bit and strike a pose—why are they reacting like this?
And wait, I’m the Hero, aren’t I? Why are they taking this so seriously...?
“...Is it true?”
“...Is it true?”
Just as I was trying to recover from my disbelief, I heard a voice in front of me that made me question my ears.
“A-Are you... really the Demon King...?”
Ripael, who’d been snarling at me moments ago, was now wagging her tail uncertainly as she hesitantly asked the question.
‘...Something’s gone really, really wrong here.’
Have people seriously been thinking of me like this all along...?
