Chapter 57

I feel so lethargic. Lying on the sofa, it feels like gravity is stickily pulling my body down. The sofa wasn’t designed for lying down, so it’s not as comfortable as a bed, but this subtle discomfort seems to paradoxically enhance the drowsiness.

My body feels like it wants to hibernate, but the heater is too efficient, making the environment unsupportive. Modern science is impressive.

Without reading a book or even touching the abandoned phone somewhere on the sofa, I just lie here staring at the ceiling. From this spot, I can vividly feel movement in the kitchen. Mom, who normally doesn’t even touch baking, has decided to give it a try. She’s surprisingly eager. Of course, to be honest, I think professional bakers’ bread would taste better.

I’m contemplating whether it’s more convenient to smooth out the wrinkles on my shirt pressed against my back or if I should just accept the discomfort as fate and not bother moving. While pondering this, a sudden sense of crisis strikes me.

Am I wasting too much time? I’ll soon be in the third year of middle school, meaning I’ve wasted about eight years so far. Initially, I was more diligent, so the eight-year estimate might be an exaggeration, but the fact remains that I’ve squandered eight years. In eight years, you could earn a doctorate in a field you’re unfamiliar with. Oh dear, what a waste.

Guided by this sense of crisis, I blurted out words.

“Mom, I want coffee.”

It’s absurdly pleasant to waste the time that could’ve been spent earning a doctorate. Surely, as an adult, I’ll regret this wasted time, but at that stage, I’ll likely be work-obsessed and won’t be able to think clearly.

I waited for the coffee, listening to the sounds coming from the kitchen. Soon, mom came out carrying two bowls, but they clearly didn’t contain coffee. Realizing there was no coffee machine sound, I dismissed the fleeting thought that she might have jokingly poured coffee into the bowls.

On the table, the two bowls contained cookies.

“Where’s the coffee?”

“Shouldn’t you be using magic instead of complaining?”

Though phrased indirectly, the underlying message is that I should make the coffee myself. Sigh, guess I’ll have to get it myself. Thanks to magic, I don’t need to physically get up from the sofa, but summoning the energy to move magic power remotely to prepare coffee in the kitchen is exhausting mentally. It’s tiring even to speak during fatigue, though I am not tired at the moment; it’s still consuming.

“Do we have to hire a live-in housekeeper?”

We do have a housekeeper for cleaning, but they only do cleaning and don’t interfere with personal spaces like the bookshelf, which I prefer. Though I’m generally against having a live-in housekeeper, it does sound tempting sometimes.

“You’re not ready for that kind of formality yet.”

Mom pressed her finger against her nose.

“What have I done?”

“Come on, get up. Did you not want to try the cookies I baked?”

Of course not, so I got up. Grabbing a cookie from the nearest plate, it crumbled sweetly in my mouth. Ah, I need coffee.

“How’s it?”

“It’s delicious.”

“And?”

“More?”

I took another cookie. What else is there to say?

“The outside is crispy, and the inside is soft.”

After saying that, I realized it’s a rather typical comment, but mom didn’t seem to mind and pushed another plate toward me to try.

“Try this one too.”

Though the cookies from both plates looked the same, I guess they must differ somehow. As I took another bite, this one was saltier. Quite different.

“How’s this one?”

“The outside is crispy, and the inside is soft.”

“Which one do you prefer?”

“They’re both delicious.”

I got a disapproving glance, which was unfair.

Feeling indignant, I added,

“It needs to be tested in a real-life situation. For instance, try eating them with coffee.”

Typically, snacks are enjoyed with coffee, and here we don’t have any.

“Why is my daughter so idle? Who raised you this way?”

Mom theatrically put her palm on her cheek and sighed. If I were to answer that mom raised me, I’d likely get a disapproving look. I want to say something.

It seems that mom is beginning to worry about my lack of diligence, but I also have my own reasons. Anyway, I’ve already finished my school lessons up to high school, so I’m not selling my future completely. Maybe that’s why mom doesn’t scold me.

I took another cookie, the sweet one. Though I’m not a fan of overly sweet things, the sweetness is appealing until I get bored of it. If I eat it consistently, the salty option might be less cloying.

Friends mistakenly think I’m picky about food, but it’s not really true. It’s just that mom’s cooking has raised my standards, so less skilled dishes feel unfamiliar. Like, after eating only clean fish dishes, a fishy fish dish feels awkward on the tongue. That’s all. Therefore, even convenience store bento boxes, while not luxurious, taste good since they still meet the basic standards set by large companies.

Since mom seems to want more feedback, as a dutiful child, I should provide more thoughts.

After eating one more salty cookie, I paused for a moment.

“Hmm… The sweet ones seem better. They go well with coffee. Also, Korean-style meals often have high sodium, so a sweet snack might be better. If there are frequent snacking habits or pathologic considerations, another option should be evaluated, but that’s not the case here. Right?”

I got tired of thinking and shook my head while eating another cookie. Mom suddenly hugged me, calling me cute.

It’s true, but honestly, mom’s taste is kind of strange.

I may seem lazy, but I used magic to prepare two cups of coffee, offering one to mom as we enjoyed the cookies. After eating a fair amount, mom took some to dad in the kitchen, which was disappointing since I was still hungry. Though stuffing myself might make it difficult to eat dinner, I’m still disappointed.

While finishing the last cookie, I heard the sound of the door opening. Since the videophone didn’t ring and the entry was done with a pre-pass, it must be dad, though it’s not yet quitting time.

Grandpa Schrödinger entered with a cold expression, accompanied by a secretary. His demeanor isn’t particularly angry; in fact, his usual expression is cold and dry. But why is he here?

Mom briefly greeted them and then went back to the kitchen. Grandpa looked at me with a bright expression.

“Sky, don’t you miss your old grandpa?”

I shook my head, and he immediately looked deflated. It’s the same routine every time, yet he still asks.

When grandpa took off his coat, the secretary silently took it. Ah, this is what proper service looks like—anticipating needs without being told. How convenient.

I caught a glimpse of mom in the kitchen, clearly annoyed but unable to voice it, sensing grandpa was showing off something unnecessary here. Though usually security personnel handle these things, better to not mention this irrelevant detail.

Grandpa noticed mom’s disapproving gaze and subtly told the secretary,

“You’ve done well. Go relax and have a cup of coffee at a café. I’ll call you if needed.”

“Thank you, sir. It’s a pleasure to serve you.”

Though said with those words, the secretary quickly left. Hmm, what is life? The shrimp gets hurt in the fight between whales?

Grandpa opened a cake box that the secretary had placed on the table. A fruit cake. They are delicious, but timing is bad.

“Let’s eat together. This cake is very tasty.”

“Bad timing. I just ate cookies, so I’m full. Overeating snacks can make dinner unmanageable.”

“Ah, how unfortunate…”

Grandpa lamented while gazing at the cake. Mom, who had moved close without notice, declared she’d keep the cake in the fridge. Though grandpa could eat it alone, she took it away. Is this spite?

“By the way, why are you here, Grandpa? Did dad mess something up?”

“Would I ever come for that? I just wanted to see Sky.”

“I see.”

It’s worth it.

Grandpa chatted about various topics while sipping coffee. While casually filtering out business talk, we somehow transitioned into system discussions. Although the uncertain creator of the system poses some risk, grandpa appeared more satisfied with the merit of level-ups improving physical abilities. He is that age, after all.

“I’ve just reached level 50. Very satisfying.”

Wait, how did he reach level 50 while I have barely entered the 40-level tier? Was I too slow? Did his security team make rounds all day? His leveling speed is absurd.

As people’s levels keep rising, it’s strange that most are still at the beginner ranks. I’m not sure if Schrödinger has a real job either. It’s a mess.

“Ah, that’s right. I also just got the equipment.”

“I don’t have it yet. Isn’t hunting dangerous?”

“Employees handle the hunting, and taking C-rank equipment took quite some time.”

A C-rank item is at least a hundred billion won each, and he says he got a full set? This hobby is on a completely different scale. This must be the wealth gap. Sad.

Watching my reaction, grandpa sipped his coffee leisurely and appeared pleased. Ah, this must be the main agenda. The roundabout introduction led to showing off his gear.

“One of the swords is exceptionally good. I’ll give you a demonstration, so let’s form a party. It’ll be worth watching.”

“No, I don’t want to.”

Grandpa was surprised and looked at me, so I added:

“I’d have to break up my current party; is it really necessary?”

I’m already in a party with Doyugeon, so I’d need to leave that party to join another.

“Can’t you just re-form it?”

“Why bother?”

Grandpa looked deflated.

Sometimes, life is like this.

---