Chapter 42 – Abandoned
Chapter 3, Part 4.2
Novel Title: ルーデンドルフ公と森の獣 (Duke Ludendorff and the Beast of the Forest)
Author:かわい有美子 (Kawai Yumiko)
Illustrator: 周防佑未 (Suoh Yuumi)
Translator: K (@kin0monogatari)
Protagonists: 藤森賢士 (Kenji Fujimori -MC), ユリアン ルーデンドルフ (Julian Ludendorff -ML)
*Please read at Novels Space.space, the original site of translation. TQ*
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As he walked, he wondered if perhaps he should have asked the taxi driver to take him to Tanba’s house first.
However, not knowing if Tanba would be home, and thinking that it might not be the right thing to do, he quickened his pace.
After about twenty minutes of walking, the mansion’s roof finally came into view.
From there, Fujimori nearly jogged to the front door.
However, even after ringing the old-fashioned bell, there was no sign of anyone coming out.
Despite only being away for a few days, the mansion seemed to have become quite desolate. Fujimori pressed the bell several times and waited impatiently.
“Frau Gesner!”
Calling out the woman’s name, Fujimori knocked on the door.
“Julian. Julian—”
He then called Julian’s name and put his hand on the doorknob. The heavy door creaked open with a groan.
“Uh… Hello? Frau Gesner?”
Feeling uneasy about entering someone else’s mansion without permission, Fujimori called out from the entrance and peered inside. His eyes widened in surprise.
Beyond the inner glass door, there were deep gouges in the large amber-coloured pillar with a big arch.
There were also deep scratches from what seemed to be four sharp claws marring the walls, doors, and various other places throughout the mansion.
What in the world happened…? Fujimori bit his lip instinctively.
“…Julian?”
The vast mansion was devoid of any human presence. It was eerily empty.
The occasional breeze drifting through was likely because some window or door had been left open somewhere. The hinges creaked with a faint, eerie sound.
With a frown at the state of the once pristine but now dilapidated mansion, Fujimori continued to call out the man’s name.
“Julian?”
He peeked into the study on the first floor, where he was taken the first time he got there. But Julian was nowhere to be seen.
The room was in a terrible state of disarray. The Chesterfield sofa where Fujimori had once sat was overturned. Papers and books were scattered all over the floor.
Julian’s heavy, analog German typewriter, which he often used, was teetering on the edge of the solid desk, about to fall off.
Lifting the quite heavy typewriter, Fujimori carefully placed it back in the centre of the desk.
This typewriter was, in a sense, a tool that Julian used to create worlds in his dreams. He took thousands, if not millions, of people into wondrous realms and moved them deeply.
Though it was an analog device, nearly obsolete and replaced by computers, Fujimori felt a certain sentimental connection to Julian’s presence in the machine. He gently stroked the typewriter, marked with the brand ‘OLYMPIA’.
“…Julian?”
Julian’s bedroom was in a similar state, with feathers scattered everywhere, and the summer down quilt was in a pitiful condition.
Fujimori wondered if Julian had lashed out because he hadn’t returned as promised. He peeked into the room he had used.
He hoped that Julian might be there. But the room was also thoroughly ransacked and empty.
Fujimori was about to sigh when he noticed something lying near the wall.
It was the portrait of Fujimori that Julian had drawn for him, which had been placed on the mantle.
Before leaving, Fujimori had only packed up his essential belongings, thinking he would be back in two days, and had left the portrait behind. He didn’t even need to pick it up to see that the frame had been slashed to pieces.
Was it Julian’s sorrow, or was it his rage that had led to the destruction of this mansion? Fujimori picked up the shattered frame from the splintered wood.
He turned his gaze to the portrait, which was likely also shredded. For a while, he silently stared at the picture.
The edges of the frame were, as expected, deeply slashed. But Fujimori’s face itself remained untouched.
However, the gold leaf that had been applied to the antique frame was almost entirely scraped off, revealing the bare wood underneath, leaving the frame in a dilapidated state.
It was as if he could see the tormented feelings of a man who had raged, lamented, resented, and agonised over being abandoned. Fujimori stood there for a moment, holding the portrait.
So, where on earth had Julian gone…?
Fujimori wondered; If Forst might have left, will Julian…-?
As he turned around, Fujimori saw Wagahai. The grey cat was sitting in the doorway, staring at him.
Though the cat had never been particularly fond of Fujimori, it was now glaring at him with a distinctly hostile look.
It was almost as if the cat knew that Fujimori was the cause of all this…
“…Wagahai?” Fujimori called out to the cat.
“Do you know where Julian is?”
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*Translator’s Note: Of course the cat knows where Julian is. No pun intended. -K
Next update: 2024.12.01