A Transmigrator’s Privilege
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A Transmigrator’s Privilege - Chapter 85
“……What?”
<I can’t feel the aura core in his body. But it’s not just about Aura. This guy doesn’t have divine powers either.>
What?!”
What does this mean? So, now, the main character has become a level 1 noob?
“Re-really? Are you sure?”
<Cadet Ellet. Who am I?>
“The Vatican 1st Hell Instructor Agnes Azlit.”
<I think that’s enough for an answer.>
“Yes.”
The protagonist was weakened. The growth is already slow, but the power that was there has disappeared.
‘That’s one sweet potato I’ve never imagined!’
[‘The Spoiler Inspector’ likes it because the dry sensibility of the original was kept.]
[‘The Critic who adjusts the balance’ clicks his tongue saying the wrong guy ate the nerf.]
[‘The Troubled Architect of the Tower of Trials’ says this is a reset beyond what a nerf can do.]
Then, after finishing his meal, Thesilid got up from the bed.
“If you move suddenly…well, you walk well.”
He went out of the bedroom and slowly looked around as if exploring the inside of the house. I and Agnes observed him doing so.
He put the bowl of soup he ate in the kitchen and went to the table.
There, there was a novel book ‘Love After Marriage between the Demon King and the Hero’ that I was reading just before.
Slip.
Thesilid showed interest in the book and turned the pages. But after a while, he frowned slightly and put it down.
<What? How much fun is that!>
Agnes trembled at the humiliation that her tastes were not respected.
It was then that Thesilid found the bookshelf and began to pick out books that fit his taste. His pick was……
<A fairy tale book?>
Thesilid sat on the floor, pulled out all the picture books, and began to flip through them slowly.
I hoped this was not the case……
While I was in heavy silence, Agnes spoke out of absurdity.
<Oh, my god, he’s in no position to ignore other people’s tastes.>
“Agnes, that’s not it.”
<Huh?>
I kept my eyes on Thesilid and continued.
“He’s lost the language and he’s trying to learn it again.”
<……>
The sea-blue eyes that skimmed the pictures and letters in the children’s book were infinitely inorganic. It was like a scanning machine.
By the time he read the tenth book of fairy tales, a strange gleam flashed in his eyes in a circle. That was the moment.
Tip tip.
This time it wasn’t tears, it was a nosebleed.
“Thesilid!”
“……I think that was my name.”
A calm voice echoed through the air. While I paused, Thesilid opened another children’s book.
It was a scene where animals sat around a large tree stump and ate.
“Thank you. It was delicious.”
“……”
His kind smile made my stomach sting for some reason.
He hasn’t changed. Even when the world was so harsh to him, his goodness was still the same.
His hand turned the pages of the fairy tale book a little further. It was a scene where a squirrel and a rabbit greeted each other.
“Who are you?”
“……”
Yes, that’s the question I expected.
Each episode was short-lived, however, he lost decades of time until the 17th round.
I wasn’t even in the world he lived in. My existence would be completely erased in the other episodes.
[‘The Spoiler Inspector’ says that it would have been good for his mental health to forget about it.]
As my silence grew longer, his sea-blue eyes narrowed slightly. He seemed a little embarrassed as to whether he was asking a question he shouldn’t have asked.
It’s okay if you can’t remember
“Ellet. Ellet Rodellaine.”
“……It sounds like a name I’ve heard. Have we ever met?”
Suddenly, another storybook was opened. On the page I glanced at, the wolf gentleman was playing a trick on the naive lamb lady.
“……”
“……”
Thesilid hurriedly closed the children’s book.
“Conversation, a little later.”
He arranged the picture books on the bookshelf and pulled out other books.
✠
For a few days, Thesilid spent time devouring books.
He pulled out books one at a time, from top to bottom and from left to right of the bookshelf, without choosing according to his taste. He didn’t even seem to read the content. His eyes quickly rolled from side to side, scanning only the letters.
Truly like a machine.
It didn’t feel good to see him silently working on his own language rehabilitation training without anyone’s help. Even more so, as he occasionally had a nosebleed but never stopped reading.
<But is aphasia usually treated like that?>
“It’s unusual.”
I asked Thesilid out of curiosity. Having considerably recovered his language skills thanks to his efforts, he said:
“It’s not a condition worthy of being called aphasia. I simply forgot the words and now I’m working on bringing knowledge back from my memory.”
I don’t know what he was talking about, but I pretended to understand. Because other things were more important.
“But why are you using honorifics?”
“Didn’t I originally use honorifics?”
“Yes, but you didn’t use them with me. It’s very awkward.”
“I see. I won’t use it anymore.”
He changed to informal speech in a second.
<He must have forgotten everything about you.>
After that, I let him read again to his heart’s content. There were three little things I learned about Thesilid while observing him.
The first was that a handsome man was handsome even with double nosebleeds, the second was that he was very common-sensed and exemplary, and the third was that he didn’t like the dark very much.
The first one is something that everyone knows. Pass. The second, I found out because he was sneaking around as if he was trying to do the dishes, cleaning after eating, and even weeding.
Indeed, as soon as he got out of bed the first thing he did was clean up the soup bowl he had used.
Finally, and thirdly, I realized that he slept at night by looking at the moonlight, candles, or nightlights that were shining.
[‘The Spoiler Inspector’ is surprised that there was no such detailed setting in the original.]
I was curious too. I thought I knew the main character well.
It had been the third day since Thesilid had awakened. As I was arranging the harvested herbs on the table, Thesilid approached me.
For some reason, he spoke first.
“I remember. Ellet Rodellaine.”
“……”
“Descent.”
Even the subject used was unusual.
Glancing at him, there was no longer a book in his hand.
I paid attention again to the trim of the herb and happily replied.
“I’m glad you remember me.”
“It’s amazing. You seem to save me every time we meet. How many times does this make? Third time?”
“That’s right.”
“Right. Three times.”
The way he recited the numbers was plain.
