Fish Don't Know About Water - Chapter 28

“M-Mr. Hinler.”

Viett hesitated as he spoke. At that moment, Esca’s loud voice echoed down the hallway.

“Minister!”

Esca, who had hurriedly climbed the stairs, stopped in front of the door. Why is he at my quarters? Viett frowned at him, who was panting heavily.

“W-what are you doing here? Y-you should be at the training ground…”

“I urgently need to deliver something to you… I had to postpone training, Your Highness.”

Esca, noticing Hinler’s stern gaze, corrected his tone belatedly. Hinler looked down at him with a commanding posture.

“I’m curious about what’s so important that the Viscount had to leave his post.”

“Well…”

Esca glanced nervously at the study door and then made a typing gesture, giving Hinler a secretive look.

“Wait, don’t you hear a strange sound from the study?”

Hinler’s expression turned cold for a moment.

“A sound?”

“Yes. It sounds like someone is trying to smash something with all their might…”

Viett turned sharply towards the study door. As Esca said, there was a faint sound of something being pounded beyond the door. It was immediately followed by a dragging sound, like a desk leg being pulled.

Viett and Hinler exchanged startled glances and then abruptly opened the door. They saw Phenelity standing in front of the wide-open window. The phonograph had also been moved right in front of the window.

At that moment, the Johanev nocturne Viett had played was nearing its end.

“C-Cochrun?”

What was the sound of something being pounded? Viett glanced at the old chair lying near the leather sofa. Its legs were broken.

Did Phenelity hit the phonograph with the chair? But the phonograph was unscathed.

“It’s useless, Miss Cochrun.”

Hinler, gripping his cane, stepped into the room.

“The phonograph is protected by magic. It won’t be damaged by physical impact.”

“…”

“I don’t understand. Isn’t that phonograph your only means to gain freedom?”

“Freedom? Isn’t it just another form of confinement?”

Phenelity replied slowly, still facing away. Then she grabbed the brass horn of the phonograph with both hands. Hinler flinched and shouted nervously.

“It’s useless!”

As Viett hurriedly stepped towards the window, Phenelity tilted the large phonograph out of the window and let it fall.

Thud! The sound of the phonograph hitting the outer fence echoed like a cannon shot. There was no sound of it breaking into pieces. Instead, the faint melody of the Johanev nocturne could still be heard.

“I vowed never to use someone as a refuge again.”

Phenelity said, looking out the window. It was a voice he had never heard from her before. The calm, subdued tone felt out of place.

“But seeing that made me foolishly cling to hope again.”

Phenelity, who had been leaning out the window, slowly turned around. Her calm gaze fixed on Viett. He flinched in surprise and widened his eyes.

Her pale face was chilling. Her green eyes were empty of emotion, but the same vague smile as always spread across her white face.

“I’ve decided. I’ll accept the deal.”

Phenelity said in a cheerful tone, turning her gaze to Hinler’s stern face.

“If you’re going to cast the brainwashing spell, do it quickly. The music will end soon.”

Hinler, who had been silently glaring at her, limped forward. With a slight nod, the phonograph returned to its place as if rewound.

“It’s really not scratched?”

Phenelity looked at the phonograph that had returned to her and gave a hollow smile.

“Then, let’s begin.”

A strange breeze mixed with the nocturne, and a dark green light emanated from Hinler’s hand like mist. He pressed his fingertips to Phenelity’s temples and warned her.

“It might hurt a little.”

“I know.”

Phenelity replied indifferently and lowered her gaze to the floor.

“I’m used to it, so it’s okay.”

Viett stared blankly at Phenelity’s empty eyes. At that moment, a single word flashed through his mind: Psycho Pepe.

He had misjudged her. Just because her moods changed frequently, and she did bizarre things like an eccentric, didn’t mean she deserved such a grotesque nickname.

She was treated as a madwoman by readers because she was a woman who dared to throw away her freedom with her own hands… and did such strange things boldly.

Viett suddenly became curious about Phenelity Cochrun. He wanted to know about her life.

He wanted to understand the world that made her this way…

* * *

As the clock hands passed midnight, the editor of <Evening Whisper> opened the office door, tidying up her messy hair.

In the cramped private office, there was a small desk squeezed between an oak filing cabinet and a tall potted plant.

The desk was cluttered with a monthly calendar marked with deadlines and events in red circles, a scrapbook of clippings from magazines and newspapers, a memo board with staff names and their magic communication numbers, and a gas mask bag distributed by the city hall.

The typewriter inherited from her predecessor was barely visible under a pile of old manuscripts. The editor sipped the coffee she brought from the break room and sat down.

“Newbie.”

A deep voice came from above as soon as she sat down. The editor put down her cup and looked up. The first thing she saw was a recruitment poster on the wall. Next, she saw a guide with wartime conduct regulations written in a long list.

Looking up further, she met the eyes of a man whose upper body was sticking out of the wall. A young man in an old-fashioned uniform was staring down at the editor.

His eyes, burning like fire, were dark red, and his skin had a pale blue hue like a corpse. The cobwebs in the corner of the ceiling were faintly visible through his transparent body.

“Sir Gallant.”

The editor greeted the man with an exasperated sigh.

“Surprisingly, I have a perfectly good name, Amy. Isn’t that amazing?”

She had been so shocked to see this ghost on her first day at work. She had seriously considered changing her profession to a medium. She thought she was the only one who could see this handsome ghost.

It was three days after joining that she realized the ghost wandering around the <Evening Whisper> building was Sir Gallant, the first Minister of Magic, who was now reigning like a god in this place.

It was also the day she was assigned to the cramped office as the editor responsible for the serialized novel <Pepe>.

“You have dark circles under your eyes.”

Sir Gallant observed the editor’s dark eye circles closely.

“Are you getting enough sleep?”

“No. Lately, I’ve been getting less than two hours of sleep a day.”

The editor grumbled, shaking the manuscript of a short story she had recently taken over. She had another workload thanks to her senior, who had volunteered for military service.

“I’m not only responsible for the Little Lord’s novel, Sir Gallant. I’m quite busy myself.”

“Today’s manuscript. Take it.”

Sir Gallant slid one arm out of the wall. In his gloved hand were several sheets of paper, bound together with string through holes punched in the corners. The bundle of papers dropped onto the desk.

“Submit the original to me immediately after revision.”

An arrogant command fell from above. The editor pouted her lips as she put on her thick-rimmed glasses.

So arrogant and conceited! Even as a dead skeleton, he’s still a noble? Seriously. The Gallant family went bankrupt ages ago…

“If it leaks out, you will be…”

“Yes, yes. Immediate execution if it leaks. I’m well aware.”

The editor cut off Sir Gallant and picked up the manuscript. The manuscript, touched by the ghost, was as cold as ice.

Creepy. She shivered and checked the requests scrawled in red on the corner.

「※Editorial Requests: Ensure the anonymity of characters other than the Little Lady and her family (marked as XX)/Adjust the excessive use of ellipses (…) in Viett Hartmann’s dialogue, and adjust the length.」

Viett Hartmann? So the Little Lady finally met the second prince. How many days has it been since the necklace incident?

The editor scratched her head with the end of a pencil and skimmed through the beginning of the manuscript.

The Little Lady woke up early in the morning, had breakfast with the family doctor of the Count’s household, and then headed to the prince’s residence at the summons of Minister Hinler Heinz.

Half of the narrative was filled with her regrets about not being able to leave for the Caribou Sea, and the other half was useless and rambling chatter.

There was no mention of worries about the broken necklace chain or the desire to meet the prince.