DLBF Chapter 13

Chapter 13 – The Power of Beauty

Chapter 1, 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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Seeing Julian tilt his head in confusion, Fujimori hastily repeated the same question in German.

“Why do you look so… good?”

“I accidentally shaved off a large part around my cheek…” Julian responded, touching his left cheek with a slight grimace. 

Indeed, it must have been unnerving to be shaving during an earthquake, especially for someone who had never experienced one before. Fujimori recalled a time in a Tokyo izakaya when a magnitude 4 earthquake struck. A foreigner, presumably experiencing his first quake, repeatedly screamed “Jesus, Jesus!” as if it were Judgement Day. 

To be honest, Fujimori found the man’s loud voice, his expression, and his reaction far more frightening than the earthquake itself.

“Paul said it looked ridiculous and suggested I should shave it off…”

Paul had always been an extremely unpleasant man with a bad attitude. But that advice wasn’t wrong.

“But I thought at least I should try to keep the moustache…”

Julian mumbled in his usual, barely audible voice, explaining that he couldn’t quite get it to look right. So he ended up shaving everything off. 

“You look way better this way! You should definitely stick with it. Your noble appearance—who could possibly resist it? Besides, you look ten years younger.”

As Fujimori spoke, Julian placed a hand on his forehead. His well-formed face faintly flushed.

With such refined features, even his shy demeanour carried a certain nobility that made one feel almost compelled to kneel before him. Without exaggeration, his looks were on par with the top male models you’d see on posters or in high-end magazine ads for luxury brands.

His forehead was high, and his nose was straight and well-defined. The area around his eye sockets had a perfectly sculpted line, as if carved by a master. His eyes were distinct, with an elongated shape rare among Westerners, and the corners of his eyes subtly lifted. 

Fujimori wondered if there might be a trace of Japanese blood in those eyes. His mouth was also sharply defined, with soft, gentle lips that contrasted with his otherwise striking features. It was only now, with the beard gone, that Fujimori realised how much of Julian’s facial contours had been obscured by it.

Fujimori had never thought much about a man’s appearance before. But Julian’s extraordinary beauty made him feel oddly protective of him.

He didn’t know how else to put it—Julian was indeed like a prince, a nobleman.

Fujimori gazed at Julian. In the fairy tales he read as a child, while he could understand the concept of a prince, the idea of a nobleman never quite resonated with him. But now, seeing someone who embodied that concept right before his eyes, it finally made sense.

The hair that Julian usually wore casually back was dark blond, a subdued colour that suited his features better than a brighter blond would have.

And his eyes were grey. But in the bright morning light of the dining room, they appeared almost silver. Depending on how the light hit them, they seemed to shimmer with a silvery hue. While Julian was a bit more rugged and had an air of intellectual melancholy about him, he certainly had the bearing of a nobleman, with his tall stature only adding to that impression.

Yes, he’s a nobleman, Fujimori thought. He clasped his hands together as if he had made a sudden realisation. He marvelled at the thought that the troubled noblemen in fairy tales must have been just like this.

“You should definitely go with this look from now on!” Fujimori urged enthusiastically, his fist clenched in excitement, though he wasn’t quite sure what exactly Julian would be aiming for with this look. 

Not that Fujimori had any grand ambitions of his own. But he couldn’t help feeling a tinge of envy toward Julian’s appearance.

At 175 centimetres, Fujimori’s height was average. It was neither remarkable nor disappointing. His somewhat delicate features, combined with his role as an assistant doctor—a rather ambiguous position—meant that he was often mistaken for a mere student, or worse, treated as such.

Perhaps it was simply that Fujimori lacked the grounded, age-appropriate composure expected of someone his age.

At twenty-seven, if he were working in a typical corporate job, he would be around his fifth year of employment and well on his way to becoming a key player in the company. Unlike Fujimori, who struggled to make ends meet with part-time tutoring jobs due to the low salary of his adjunct lecturer position, Julian likely had different responsibilities and opportunities. As a result, while Fujimori’s features were not unattractive, he did not fare well with women of his generation.

“You’re not bad-looking, Fujimori-kun, and your personality isn’t terrible either. But your lack of financial stability and secure future is a huge drawback. It’s a waste of time getting involved with you,” he had heard this from women, spoken with an air of knowing superiority and without mercy.

Though Fujimori had received love letters and chocolates from female high school students in the classes he taught, he wasn’t exactly lacking in attention. Unfortunately, he had no interest in younger, underage individuals. Moreover, engaging with them could lead to complicated and risky situations.

The girlfriend he had been dating about six months ago had left him for a private doctor who, though clearly less attractive than Fujimori, had far better financial prospects.

He had thought he was treating her well enough. But he was disheartened to discover just how straightforwardly women could weigh financial stability when it came to relationships.

Since then, Fujimori has had no romantic prospects.

Though he had no romantic prospects, Fujimori was in a slightly disillusioned state, feeling that his lack of a stable job was to blame. Despite choosing the academic path by choice, academia often meant living in modesty unless one could secure patents in science and mathematics.

While ‘modest living’ sounds good in theory, it really meant that one’s pockets were perpetually empty. It was unlikely that someone would be willing to stay with such a man. Furthermore, the demands of research meant frequent long-term stays in various places.

Looking at Julian, Fujimori was puzzled. With such looks and immense wealth, and the lineage of a regional noble, it was hard to understand what could be lacking. If even Julian struggled with happiness, Fujimori felt that he himself would never find it. Therefore, he sincerely hoped that Julian would find happiness, if only to rebuild his own confidence.

“…Is that so?”

Julian, who had been covering the lower half of his face with his large hands in a bashful manner, managed a smile despite his confusion.

Beauty is indeed powerful. Fujimori found himself unwittingly charmed by Julian’s smile.

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*Translator’s Note: Well, gotta agree with these women. Financial stability is important in a relationship. In other words, Fujimori can only be a bottom for a certain noble German guy. Hahaha! -K

Next update: 2024.11.02

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