Chapter 6
I had a dream.
It was when I had just advanced to F2.
At the time, I was considered something of a prodigy and was hailed as a next-generation rookie. As if to prove it, I made the podium every time.
But I wasn’t standing at the top where everyone recognized me.
“Percival, congratulations! I knew you’d win!”
“That was absolutely fantastic driving. You’re a genius!”
The person who always popped champagne from the highest spot on the podium and received all the congratulations was Percival Blanchard.
“At this rate, you’ll be off to F1 in no time. It’s a shame. We haven’t even gotten to spend much time together. Congratulations, Percival!”
“Did you see that earlier? Even the directors of F1 teams were watching you! They’re probably already competing with each other over what kind of terms they’ll offer to sign you. Haha!”
There were plenty of people sucking up to him.
But it wasn’t entirely empty flattery.
I’d heard that several F1 midfield and lower-ranked teams had already made offers to him.
Percival, however, was supposedly waiting for a vacancy to open up at a higher-tier team.
His own family’s team, Landbury, for example.
It was only a rumor at that point, but there were even rumors that Landbury was planning to give up on renewing one of their drivers for next year for Percival’s sake.
It was probably true.
“There isn’t even anything left to watch. You’ve practically already secured the F2 Championship this year!”
“We should pick out the champagne in advance!”
Percival and I achieved a double podium, finishing first and second respectively.
Yet nobody congratulated me.
Everyone was too busy running over to Percival, congratulating him and showering him with praise.
I hated seeing that spectacle, so I trudged away like a loser.
Second place was supposedly an honorable position.
But second place behind that bastard had become something to mock.
The younger brother who was forever stuck in second place behind his older brother.
The younger brother who could only take first place when his brother wasn’t around.
The Blanchard brothers’ rivalry had become one of the biggest sources of entertainment in the racing world.
A globally wealthy family.
Their biological son and their mother’s remarried stepson just happened to be the number-one and number-two next-generation F1 rookies.
It was perfect material for people to gossip about.
“As expected, the ‘real’ rookie is different.”
I heard someone among the staff say that as I walked away.
A hollow laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
‘The real one can never beat the fake one, I guess.’
‘As expected, F1 is all about physicality. Asians are just a little…’
‘What can you do when the “real” Blanchard is simply better?’
Those were the things I’d heard whenever I failed to beat him by the narrowest of margins.
Fucking disgusting words, mixed with racism.
But by now, things like that didn’t hurt me anymore.
They were no more than meaningless bullshit that I couldn’t be bothered to care about.
“Hey.”
“……”
“Hey! You there!”
Right after the race, I was walking toward the place where there would be the fewest people when Percival called out to me.
I casually ignored him.
His intention was obvious. He’d deliberately shaken off the interviewers and people crowding around him just to come after me.
“This bastard. You can’t even pretend to hear me when I’m calling you?”
But before I could completely escape the crowd, he caught up with me.
Percival Bastard was annoying as hell, but the bastard really was fast.
“If you’re trying to get someone’s attention, call them by their name. How am I supposed to know you’re talking to me when you call me like that?”
“You should be able to figure it out, you dumbass. Or should I have called you ‘you little gold-digger bastard’ instead?”
“Then is Mr. Blanchard an idiot who doesn’t even realize he’s being gold-dug?”
Another insult toward Mom.
He’d pressed my most sensitive button.
I finally couldn’t hold back and fired back.
The smile instantly disappeared from Percival’s face, replaced by a vicious expression.
“You fucking bastard! How dare you talk about my father like that!”
Then why the hell do you talk about my mother like that?
Even if she’s your stepmother, you fucking disrespectful bastard.
His fist immediately flew toward my face.
“Fuck…!”
Blood gushed from my nose after taking the punch squarely.
I’d avoided the bastard because I didn’t want to get involved in this kind of filthy mess.
But I couldn’t take it anymore.
Apparently, this wasn’t a human being who could learn unless you beat some sense into him.
Tell me to stop insulting someone’s mother once you’re old enough to know better.
Are you some immature teenager who thinks racism is funny?
“Don’t you ever insult my mother again, you fucking bastard!”
As I swung with all my strength at the exact spot where he’d hit me, I thought:
I’m screwed.
There’s going to be another article about this.
* * *
“…Ah.”
The moment I opened my eyes, I saw a high ceiling.
Where am I now?
I blinked my blurry eyes and looked around.
It didn’t take long to realize that I was in an extravagant private hospital room.
And then—
“Oh my! You’re awake!”
The person who greeted me when I opened my eyes wasn’t Mom, Mr. Blanchard, or—though there was no chance of that—Percival Bastard either.
It was a caregiver I’d never seen before.
Apparently, she’d immediately called the doctor and nurses, because in less than a minute, an army of people in white coats rushed into the room.
Perhaps trying to reassure me because I was still so young, they first gave me news about my parents.
“We contacted Mrs. Kang and Mr. Blanchard immediately, so they’ll be here soon.”
“Thank goodness. Really. You have no idea how worried we were. You haven’t opened your eyes for two whole days…”
Two days?
I couldn’t believe I’d slept for two days from just that.
I rolled my eyes toward the electronic clock.
The date displayed on it really had advanced by two days.
While I sat there dumbfounded, the doctor immediately connected me to several medical devices and began examining me.
And not long afterward, the first person to arrive at my hospital room was—
“Ian!”
Unexpectedly, it was Arthur.
“How is Ian? Is he all right? His condition… If there was some problem that caused him to be unable to open his eyes for two days—”
“Please calm down, Mr. Blanchard. Ian’s condition is extremely good. There’s nothing particularly concerning. His injuries have also healed well without any lasting effects.”
“I see. …Ian.”
The moment Arthur confirmed that I was all right, his attention turned toward me.
He sat in the chair where the caregiver had been sitting moments earlier.
After hesitating for a moment, he spoke.
“I’m sorry, Ian. For dragging you into something like this. And… thank you for stopping Percy. I’ll make sure he apologizes.”
“It’s okay. I also jumped in without thinking, so it wasn’t entirely Percy’s fault.”
“Ian…”
It was one hundred percent that bastard’s fault.
But there was no way I could say that.
So I gave him a suitably kind answer, and Arthur seemed deeply moved.
“As you’ve probably noticed, your mother, Sarah, and I have a good relationship. Ian, you’re such a cute and kind child… Would you give me the honor of becoming your father?”
When the doctor left the room, Arthur hesitated for a moment before saying that.
My eyes widened.
Wait. He never said anything like this in my previous life.
Back then, the two of them had simply informed me that they were dating and would be getting married.
My relationship with my stepfather hadn’t been particularly bad, but he had simply been my mother’s husband.
I never really felt like he was my new father.
We hadn’t been a particularly harmonious remarried family.
Not in my previous life.
I’d already had a strange dream, and the fact that I’d been unconscious for two days was surprising.
More than anything, I still had no idea what those game-like message windows above Percival’s head were.
Everything was confusing.
But for now, I nodded.
“If you make Mom happy, Arthur…”
Is this life going to be different?
Can it be different?
If so, what should I change?
While I was turning all sorts of thoughts over in my head, Arthur, completely unaware of my internal struggle, took my hand with an expression filled with emotion and determination.
“I swear it on my life. I promise.”
“Then okay. You can be my father, too.”
“Ian…!”
Apparently, even that wasn’t enough to contain his emotions, because Arthur hugged me.
And that was when it happened.
The hospital room door was suddenly kicked open, and Percival Bastard walked in.
Fuck. Did he hear that?
This is getting kind of embarrassing.
“Son…”
Seeing Mom’s teary face as she followed Percy into the room, I immediately understood.
He heard.
“Sarah, the children trust us this much. Let’s set a date soon. We should become a family as quickly as possible and take care of each other.”
“Ah, Arthur… I’m so touched.”
Why do those two enter their own little world whenever they’re together?
They’re both old enough to know better.
I awkwardly smiled, embarrassed and uncomfortable.
Then a shadow fell over me.
Percival Bastard had walked up in front of me.
I raised my head.
The message window floating above his head read—
Sub Quest: Give Ian a sincere apology and receive his forgiveness.
(Reward upon success: Clear 30 Karma points. Failure: Randomly decrease 5 stat points.)
Yeah.
This is the problem.
I really needed to seriously investigate this.
For all I knew, this might even be the reason I, who had died, had returned to the past.
“……”
Even in the middle of all this, Percy stood in front of me and glared with an obviously displeased expression.
Judging from that face…
Could it be that I’m not the only one who can see these things?
Could Percy see them too and be acting according to their instructions?
“Hey.”
“Y-yeah.”
“My hand. Sorry.”
He was apologizing because of that message window, wasn’t he?
Still, since this was the first time I’d ever heard an apology from this bastard, I couldn’t help feeling strangely moved.
Without realizing it, my voice became gentler.
“No. I was careless too.”
“Ah, whatever. Just hurry up and forgive me.”
“……”
So much for feeling moved.
This bastard.
Seeing this delinquent thug practically extorting forgiveness from me made me want to kick him.
I forced down the twitching corner of my mouth and nodded.
“…I forgive you.”
While secretly watching the message window floating above his head.
Ding.
Just as expected, the sound came immediately after I finished speaking.
Sub Quest Complete! 30 Karma points have been cleared as a reward.
Your current Karma is 785.
Huh?
The last time I’d seen it, it had been 893.
If thirty points had been deducted just now, it should have been 863.
The fact that it was lower than that probably meant my Karma had decreased during the two days I’d been asleep.
Anyway, it said a penalty would be imposed if it went over 900.
So was 785 a safe number?
I wasn’t sure, but I needed to remember it.
While I was organizing everything in my head, I noticed Percy staring intently at me.
“Why?”
Why the hell are you staring at me?
You’re making me uneasy.
“Your hand. Is it badly hurt?”
“No. I heard the doctor explain everything together with Mr. Blanchard. It’s already healed, and there are no aftereffects.”
As if that was all he’d been waiting to hear, Percy snorted and walked out.
Even though Arthur tried to stop him, he paid no attention and left anyway.
That bastard, seriously…
Well, I wasn’t surprised.
Since there wasn’t anything particularly wrong with me, Arthur and Mom decided that I could be discharged the very next day.
Not long afterward, they left to let me rest.
Alone in the room, I organized the situation.
For now, it seemed like I’d made it through the first hurdle.
And Mom and Arthur seemed likely to move their marriage forward sooner than they had in my previous life.
Then, as for the current situation…
“Phone.”
I figured I needed to find out exactly what year it was, so I felt around the bedside.
Fortunately, I’d just received my phone from Mom.
I’ll use this to look up some information about the current era—
“Huh?”
Perfect timing.
A text message arrived.
From an unknown number.
It’s eleven at night.
Who the hell is crazy enough to contact a ten-year-old at this hour?
Thinking that, I opened the message.
And immediately froze.
What appeared on the screen wasn’t really a text message.
It was more like an extremely long letter.
“…Ah. Kitty is really scary.”
The sender was Kitty.
Hello, Ian. Are you feeling any better? There shouldn’t be anything wrong with your body. A genius like you is precious. I’ve never encountered a genius like you in my entire life.
.
.
.Ever since meeting you, I can’t stop thinking about you, and when I heard that you were sick, it felt like my heart was being torn apart…
The stalker-like message went on and on.
But its conclusion could be summed up in a single sentence.
“Now that you’re all better, would you like to come visit Landbury Academy?”
