Chapter 8: The Demands of the Part-Time Job

“You’ve decided to take a part-time job helping Bliss Moore organize his materials?”

Ethan let out a short sigh as he nodded, responding to Hans’s astonished voice.

“Somehow, it just happened that way. Lord Bliss Moore apparently rented every single paper book from the library for a month, under the guise of research. I don’t particularly want to do it, but the compensation is good, and it will benefit my studies, so I see no reason to refuse.”

“…Are you still searching for the story connected to the lake where you were found?”

It was a cautious question, yet understandable coming from the very person who had discovered Ethan in the lake. What Ethan truly sought had a broader scope than that, but Hans’s words weren’t entirely wrong, so Ethan replied appropriately.

“Since my memories are gone, I have to start from the place I was found. Still, thank you for taking me in as your nephew. It made getting an ID card much easier, and…”

“Anyone who wishes to become an Imperial citizen, be they orphan or criminal, will receive an ID card.”

Hans waved his hand dismissively as if it were nothing, but Ethan had learned within a year of arriving here that ID cards had different tiers.

Due to population decline, the government issued ID cards to anyone wishing to become an Aitoolian Imperial citizen. However, the question of whether criminals or those with unknown backgrounds could lead normal, functional lives was another matter entirely. That was far from the truth.

Without Hans’s sponsorship—both his parents and grandparents having been Imperial citizens—Ethan wouldn’t even have been able to attend the Academy, and his residential areas would have been severely restricted.

“I’ll find a way to repay you.”

Hans let out a soft chuckle.

“If you’re saving money for that, I’ll refuse. I have enough to live comfortably.”

“Uncle Hans, you’re my family. Even if it’s not money, please tell me if you ever have any worries.”

Noticing Hans’s expression darkening more often lately, Ethan subtly put out feelers. However, Hans only offered a faint smile.

“If only you understood Espers and Guides.”

‘So, it’s an issue between an Esper and a Guide, then?’

Hans, as always, changed the subject.

“So, when do you start?”

“The café is in a state where I can quit immediately, so I decided to start today.”

“…That’s much sooner than expected.”

“Lord Bliss Moore is only staying here for a month. He apparently wants to return to the mansion a bit earlier because Enoch Cloud has stirred up the entire city. And I’ll be returning to school in a month. A few days have already passed, so I figured the sooner, the better.”

Though Ethan’s words implied he was eager to maximize his high-paying work, Hans seemed to think he was keen to review the materials quickly and wore a sympathetic expression. It didn’t matter either way. Ethan put on his outer jacket and stepped outside.

****

“What is all this?”

Ethan asked with a look of utter dismay at the sight of the guest study, which had been perfectly transformed into a ‘workspace.’ Dale, the butler, deferred the answer to Philip, stating his role was merely to arrange the room and guide Ethan. Philip glanced away for a moment before offering a polite, professional smile.

“These are the raw data for the ‘material organization’ Lord Bliss Moore instructed. Including those paper books, of course.”

Beyond the items borrowed from the city library, mounds of paper documents were piled high. Some weren’t even bound like books; they were roughly bundled or loose sheets.

“So, the material organization… isn’t just for the rented paper books…”

“Haha. Didn’t Lord Bliss mention it when you signed the contract? ‘Material Organization Part-time Job,’ he said. Nowhere in that conversation was it specified that it was *only* for paper books. Generally, a material organization part-time job means organizing the employer’s desired materials. Oh, this point is also clearly stated in the contract, so you can verify it here if you wish.”

Ethan gritted his teeth.

“When will Lord Bliss Moore arrive?”

“…Lord Bliss will not be coming to the mansion today.”

After a brief pause, Dale replied to Ethan’s question. Bliss had retreated to the bunker since morning due to signs of an impending seizure, but there was no need to share such a sensitive vulnerability with a mere part-timer.

Officially, he was staying at a city hotel and had not yet formally entered the mansion, so no elaborate excuses were needed.

“Are you telling me to organize these utterly ridiculous, antiquated papers without knowing the proper order, method, or even what to organize?!”

Philip, with a genial smile, displayed the prepared text on a monitor in the study.

“I can answer that for you. The current state of these paper documents is that they are not organized chronologically. You will need to perform that task first. Please arrange the documents in chronological order, create a table of contents, and digitize them. This may take several days, but if you finish quickly, please search the public network for e-books or documents with identical content to these paper books or documents. If none are found, please mark and separate them. I will explain the next steps once these tasks are complete.”

A dizzying sensation overwhelmed him.

“Just ‘several days’ for organizing? This will take at least a full week!”

At Ethan’s outcry, Philip gently admonished him.

“I apologize, but it must be done within several days. A month is not very long, you see. We would assist you if there were another way, but as you know, the nature of this work is not something robots can handle.”

A cold dread crept up his spine, much like discovering an empty wallet long after being pickpocketed.

High-paying part-time work was clearly no easy feat.

****

Bliss awoke the next morning. Uncurling his huddled form, he first unfurled his tightly clenched hand. Discovering that a small pouch he had clutched as a precaution had vanished during his seizure, he let out a regretful sigh. Perhaps he shouldn’t bring anything in next time.

Still, he realized that the bunker did offer him some measure of control. He slowly exhaled, noting the diminished headache and the faint sensations returning to his fingertips, a result of his power having been discharged during the seizure.

To the public, his known ability was hydrokinesis, the power to manipulate water. However, there was another ability, known only to nobles and those connected through his profession.

An ability also possessed by his father, Seth Moore: Shadow.

The manifestation of the rare Shadow ability within a single family was unprecedented. Consequently, from its onset at age 12 until he underwent a secondary awakening at 18, gaining the ability to control water, he was forced to participate in secret experiments, disguised as data accumulation.

Both his Shadow ability and his hydrokinesis were classified as S-rank. Had his grandfather, Marquis Douglas Moore, not pulled him from the experiments under the pretense of a completely different case, Bliss would still be tethered like a dog to the royal family, who controlled the Center.

His grandfather, who steadfastly held onto his title after Bliss’s father died in a rampage, was an ordinary human. Few knew how much he had studied to prevent losing his grandson to a rampage, after already losing his child. He was likely the person who understood Espers and Guides beyond mere texts more than anyone else among ordinary people.

Unlike his biological mother, that is.

He offered a wry smile as he slowly rose. He felt a slight dizziness, but not enough to make him stumble. Although he was currently fine, to inherit his title, he needed his own Guide.

One could still inherit a title without a Guide, but then they would be subjected to the Center’s oversight. He had no intention of becoming their dog again. To prevent that, he had to unearth what they had hidden and suppressed, and hold it in his own hands.

Near the entrance, a call button was installed on the wall. He opened the protective cap made of special material and pressed the call button, eliciting an immediate response from Dale.

[Lord Bliss, are you alright!]

“Not bad. How many days have passed?”

[Exactly twenty hours. You entered yesterday morning, and it is now this morning.]

Bliss grimaced, feeling the faint stirrings of a headache attempting to restart. It was a tedious existence, slowly intensifying before relapsing into another seizure.

“Send some light refreshments to my room.”

[Understood. I will open the door.]

The thick door swung open with a heavy thud, and the private researchers, who had been waiting near the bunker with Philip and Dale, breathed a sigh of relief. Dale, who looked as though he had also spent most of the night awake, quickly dressed the naked Bliss in a gown.

“Doctor Sera, have you gathered my biometric data from the seizure?”

The curly-haired woman called ‘Sera’ stepped forward and handed him a tablet.

“Lord Bliss, the seizure cycles are subtly accelerating. The only other difference was that the time until the explosion of power occurred after the seizure began was slightly delayed. We cannot pinpoint the exact cause, but the seizure’s transmission, which typically originates from your hand, was delayed by about a minute before rapidly escalating.”

A pouch. That was the only thing that had changed. That pouch had delayed the seizure’s transmission by a minute.

Bliss involuntarily looked down at his hand.

****

As Bliss ascended to the ground floor in the elevator and was about to head to his room, he suddenly remembered that impertinent young man was working.

“What is that delivery boy doing?”

“He’s talking to himself.”

At Dale’s answer, Philip coughed discreetly.

“What?”

“He said he preferred to lock the door to avoid being disturbed while working. Since only publicly available data is kept there anyway, I allowed it. But it seems he has a habit of talking to himself.”

“…You heard him even with the door closed?”

Philip coughed discreetly again, but Dale replied without hesitation.

“Listen for yourself.”

Curiosity piqued, Bliss made his way to the guest study.

[You goddamn bastard, you son of a b*tch! Get lost!]

!!!

As everyone froze in place, Bliss quietly commanded.

“Open it.”

Philip’s coughing intensified.