Became the Hated Illegitimate Son of the Duke in Romance Fantasy

5 – Episode 5

However, no matter how slowly I eat, the meal is bound to end in the end. Seeing that my bowl is empty, the butler takes me up the stairs.

“Even if it’s clumsy, you seem to have good table etiquette. There’s no way he learned it at that orphanage… Hmm. No.”

Of course not.

There’s no way the orphanage director, drunk even in broad daylight in such a rotten neighborhood, would have told me this.

That said, a normal adult from another world became an orphan reading a novel, and I can’t say the same bullsh*t.

“By the way, how should I call the person the old man calls master?”

“I will not let you call me father, just call me duke or answer appropriately if possible.”

The old man knocked once and when I heard that it was okay to come in, he let me into the room.

The room is filled with various pieces of furniture.

A colorful wallpaper, someone’s portrait, a bookshelf with many books, etc.

Stuffed deer heads, bear heads, and tiger heads are attached to the ticking clocks.

And the Duke was sitting in the middle of this messy yet organized room, doing his business.

As the middle-aged man handles the paperwork on the desk, he doesn’t give me a glance and asks a question.

“Was the orphanage worth living?

I did fund it a little, though.”

“Ah…”

Is that because you received support?

There were more than one or two children on the brink of starvation.

“Seeing that there was no reply, it seems that the money I sent didn’t go all the way there.

I think I’ll have to deal with the person in charge and the orphanage director.”

I kept my mouth shut.

This person must be able to kill the director with just one word.

“Damn it, I knew I was going to run off to the slums.”

After saying that, I stood still for about 30 minutes.

The middle-aged continues to work on the paperwork, moving his pen with a creak.

Then, he put down the pen he was holding and grabbed his forehead, as if his eyes were drying up from the repetitive work.

After holding his forehead for a long time, he sweeps his face down once, then raises the corners of his mouth slightly to create a smile that looks comfortable to others.

Then he opened his closed mouth.

“A son died not too long ago.

Thanks to you, my daughter is very sad.

Even if I bought a bunch of dolls and gave them as gifts, or called a jewelry store and brought all kinds of rings and necklaces to them, they showed no signs of regaining their energy.”

He throws the story about his son’s death in front of him lightly, as if just changing the topic.

As if it wasn’t such a big deal.

Or maybe pretending it’s no big deal.

He gets up from his chair and approaches me with a clicking sound.

Then, like the woman at the orphanage, she grabbed my chin and began to check my face, as if she were looking through the merchandise.

“Hmm, they look alike.

The basic background is as if Elena was painted over my face.

It must be difficult to use as a substitute. No matter how much you resemble me, the color is too distinct.”

After saying that, he pushed my chin.

I lost my balance and hit my butt.

He didn’t even look at me.

In a way, middle aged felt a bit broken.

The appearance is fine.

Even though her eyes don’t look lifeless, she’s wearing a neatly organized face and wrinkle-free clothes.

He continues to mutter to himself with no answer.

As if he didn’t want to think of anything else, he was constantly spitting out his thoughts.

This human came out as a villain.

The girl who saw me earlier at dinner and threw a fork and left was also a villain.

A character whose name came up a little often, and who often harassed the female lead, so to speak, in the role of a villain.

I can’t remember the details.

Except for the fact that everyone died.

The woman who brought me also dies.

There was a saying that the Breslau family was exterminated and everyone who belonged to that family was executed for treason.

I don’t know if it’s a phrase from a novel or a recombined sentence in my head, but it’s certain that everyone will die, whether it’s a servant working in this mansion or a man or woman in front of me.

Brutally simple.

“I don’t know what you are thinking when you look at me.

Are the feelings new? That you are actually a human with blue blood.

Since it was given to you, you must raise it. The butler will bring you the right room, the right clothes, and the right food.”

Looks at my face and raises the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, do you know my daughter’s name?”

I was about to shake my head for a moment, but the butler’s words came to my mind and I opened my mouth to answer.

“I don’t know.”

“Xenia Breslau. Remember, there will be a lot of comfort in being close to my daughter.

What is your name?”

“This is Eric.”

“Eric Breslau, that’s all you have to say.”

After that, the middle-aged man called the butler to take me.

Eric Breslaura.

That would mean that when this family goes bankrupt, I will die too.

In the first place, middle-aged should be called the Duke of Breslau.

Why did you bring me here?

That’s the question.

The old man takes me and starts walking away from the middle-aged man’s office.

And then turn left once and right once through the corridor.

“You can go to the room at the end of this hallway.

The door is not particularly closed, and since it was used as a guest room, bedding, a desk, and simple writing utensils should be provided.”

After saying that, the butler started walking away again.

He is a very busy human being.

As I was walking toward the hallway, I felt a presence behind me and turned around.

He is the girl who spurned out at dinner.

Xenia Breslau.

I don’t even remember the method of arguing with the main character and finding fault with him, but he’s a dead character.

She was glaring at me.

“Hey… no.”

Yes, Eric in the original work probably listened to the middle-aged man and tried to get as close as possible to the girl.

And the way a beggar orphan living in the slums would know was that all of them had a different direction.

To flatter the other person by farting, to humble oneself endlessly, and to hang around the other person’s side.

Or a pimp, or a group of prostitutes, and scattering what you have around people who are served and supported.

Yeah, I roughly remember it.

An unlikable person who sticks to the villainess, flattering herself while being ignored.

That was Eric Breslau.

The girl in front of her didn’t answer the call she called, so her pupils shook slightly as if she was embarrassed.

Still, for a child of his age, he calls me once again without showing much.

“Hey! I called.”

I wondered whether I should speak politely or speak informally, but since I was smaller than myself, I decided to speak in an informal manner.

Well, I haven’t heard anything about age.

“Why?”

“Why? Why? Aren’t you using honorifics?”

“Why do I have to use honorifics for you?”

At those words, the girl seemed to be troubled.

And the answer I gave after thinking about it was spectacle.

“Yes, yes, yes. My mother said you are the son of a vulgar prostitute!

Then, of course, you should treat me with respect!”

I was surprised at the fact that a kid whose age was still less than two digits could spit out these words.

And this child will continue to live like this.

He lives a life where he is accepted by everyone and takes it for granted.

And someday, I will meet the main character.

The world blesses the road ahead.

A hero who does absurd things even if there are some trials.

And envy, envy, and eventually hate, they’ll get eaten up by that emotion.

And what does that have to do with me?

If my child dies, then I will die too.

This is a world where guilt by association remains.

The story is that if the duke I just talked to drinks cocaine, goes mad, and beats the emperor to death, the humans who work in this mansion, and those who share the same last name as the duke, without exception, will be taken away and their necks broken.

I don’t want to die.

So, even in the cold, I tried to keep myself warm by attaching a piece of cloth to my body somehow.

In order not to sleep on the side of the wall in winter, or at least not to freeze to death even when sleeping on the wall, I would stick close to Belita.

I wanted to live even when I ate rotten bread, was kicked by a police officer wearing a blue suit with a black club, and beaten to death by the director.

“Why…why are you coming all of a sudden!”

From noble mtl dot com

So this is something I do because I want to live.

Absolutely, I did not act out of anger when I heard that my mother, who shed tears and abandoned me in the cold, was a vulgar whore.

“Don’t say that kind of thing, kid.”

I clenched my fist and raised it high into the sky.

Then the little boy closed his eyes and waved his palms wildly.

I laughed out loud thinking that struggling for a long time even after I lowered my fist was no different from the children in the orphanage.

So I just lightly punched him once.

Xenia grabs my forehead and looks at me with her eyes wide open as if it’s absurd.

I didn’t care much and turned around and walked towards my room.