92
Some Misunderstandings Can Be True
Oliver was sprawled on the sofa, covering his eyes with his arm. It was unclear whether his eyes were sensitive to the light or if he couldn’t face his guilt. Either way, he couldn’t look me in the eye anymore and spoke haltingly.
“He didn’t seem to remember me. Probably. As you know… I was really small when I was young.”
A young male prostitute in the red-light district. It was truly the worst place. The pimp would take young boys and force them into prostitution while barely feeding them. The reason was that they wouldn’t sell well once they looked like men. Naturally, Oliver was a skinny, small blonde boy. Oliver only grew tall around the age of sixteen. He spent the summer vacation crawling around crying because he had grown 20cm in a short time and was in great pain.
“I don’t know exactly when. About a year after I came to Romberg?”
Then he must have been around ten. Oliver came to Romberg when he was nine. I remember Oliver from that time. The beautiful, small boy like a porcelain doll would smile brightly when told to smile and be expressionless when told not to. At that time, Oliver had no expressions of his own.
“He was Father’s guest. When Father had guests, he would introduce you first and then introduce all of us. As his sons. That man looked at me and said, ‘Ah, that one.’ That’s why I remember. I felt he was about to say ‘That prostitute boy’ but closed his mouth. Father didn’t show it, but he glanced at the guest once. I remember the puzzlement in Father’s eyes then. A face that said, ‘This isn’t like him, why is he acting this way?’ I sneered inwardly then. ‘He may not be that kind of person to you, but he was always that kind of person to me.’ But it turns out there really weren’t such people around Father. He was the only one. That’s why I couldn’t forget… It was that man.”
Father’s guest?
Our father, ‘Richard Schnieke’, was actually quite a celebrity in certain circles. Father was renowned in a global organization called the World Service Association. Father’s friends always spoke of his heroic deeds. Standing in front of terrorists, running with a child in his arms amidst exploding bombs, and so on. When I heard those stories, I was really proud of Father, but working in the field, I realized he was the most troublesome type of civilian. But it’s also true that such civilians are generally righteous and accomplish things. Of course, they’re a huge nuisance to us.
All of Father’s friends are righteous people. Maybe it’s natural given the field they work in. Of course, he meets various types of people due to his busy public and private life, but if someone was invited to Romberg Cathedral, it’s clear that Father thought they were a good person.
Such a person went to Oliver and told him to kill his brother? Using aid as leverage? Without even making any specific promises about that aid?
“Why would Father’s friend want to kill me?”
“I don’t know about that.”
I thought the reason for wanting to kill me was because of Canaris. Canaris and I are originally in a relationship of deep enmity, barely able to breathe under the same sky, and on top of that, Otto Layer completely turning to Canaris added another person who hates me. So I think it’s possible, but I can’t think of anything related to Father.
Could they be targeting Father?
When I became Father’s adopted son, there was a huge debate in Catholic circles, I heard. First, there was a debate about whether a priest, someone with clerical status, could adopt a child, and due to my complicated past, I heard that permission was barely granted from the Vatican. Father was even prepared to be excommunicated then. Father’s friends evaluated it as the most difficult public opinion battle of their lives.
If I, such a person, were to be killed by Oliver, who was a former child prostitute, Father would indeed be embroiled in a huge scandal.
But… isn’t this too insignificant? If they were targeting Father, spreading rumors that he’s a pedophile who brought children to the orphanage to raise them would be much faster. In fact, Father has suffered from such malicious rumors before, and his friends had to give testimonies defending Father one after another. Of course, the decisive blow was delivered by Father himself.
“They are my beloved sons, but objectively, they are quite troublemakers. I am not yet a big enough vessel to be physically attracted to such troublemakers. I will never be, so many brothers who spread such malicious rumors to be wary of me, especially the brothers in northern Rotman, rest assured. This Richard Schnieke is still too small a vessel.”
The moment he said “brothers in northern Rotman,” laughter erupted from the audience. In fact, everyone knew where these malicious rumors had started, and when Father pointed it out so blatantly, they couldn’t hold back their laughter.
In the end, the priests from northern Rotman had to issue a statement criticizing Father while denying that they had spread such malicious rumors, and so the rumors faded away. And Father would always mention this incident when we caused trouble, lamenting:
“To think I had to be called a pedophile because of a guy like you. My fate is really harsh, so harsh!”
That ‘pedophile accusation’ had the effect of doubling our wrongdoings, so we all hated it. But it was clearly the most effective attack. After all, Father had to explain himself.
If they were trying to kill me regardless of Father, but had some past connection with Father, it might make sense. Anyway, if it’s someone who met Father, we can find them. Father, like a true clergyman, keeps a diary! At the very least, there’s a record where he definitely writes down who he met each day.
I was about to go ask Father, but I turned back. Oliver, covered in blood, was still motionless.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Oliver didn’t answer for a while. I thought the reason for not saying anything wouldn’t matter. But for some reason, I held onto the doorknob and waited for Oliver’s answer.
Oliver, who had been waiting for me to leave, finally answered tiredly.
“I didn’t want to be misunderstood.”
“What misunderstanding?”
“The misunderstanding that I made this choice because of some childhood trauma I barely remember.”
Oliver spoke as lightly and curtly as possible. But I realized this was the fundamental cause of the situation. Oliver had not escaped from that trauma at all. The reason he wants to become a monk, the reason he wants to be respected in the dangerous Urnan, and even his choice to kill me to avoid losing that respect, it’s all because he hasn’t taken a single step away from that childhood.
“Okay, I understand. Rest.”
I just said that and left the room to call Sebastian. It was time to rely on my lovely fiancé’s enormous capital power.
His personal doctor now glared at me with white eyes every time he saw me. What kind of person are you to do this to someone? A savage question appeared on the face of the 50-year-old doctor. I pretended not to know and slowly backed away. Just as the doctor was about to open his mouth to say something to me.
“I’m Richard Schnieke.”
Father appropriately stepped in front of me, shielding me, and offered a handshake to the doctor. The doctor said “Oh” and then greeted him warmly, “Are you Father Nicolao?”
“You know my baptismal name?”
“Of course. Your volunteer work in the Irica continent was truly inspiring. I even named my son’s baptismal name Nicolao!”
Father had of course been baptized but hadn’t changed his name. In the case of priests, many often have their baptismal name as their actual name, or even if not, they tend to change their names, but Father said he didn’t want to change his name. It seemed he cherished the name his late brother ‘Armin’ used to call him. Even when he gave me his brother’s name, he said several times, ‘It’s the name of the person I loved most in the world. It’s the best thing I can give you.’ That’s why I like my name too.
“I see.”
Father laughed and pulled me back as I was trying to slip away.
“Let me introduce you. This is my son, Armin Schnieke.”
At that moment, the doctor’s eyes shook severely. It was like seeing a Canaris psycho bastard coming from a Catholic saint. Feeling uncomfortable, I unconsciously rubbed my face, and Father said:
“He’s a good kid.”
“…”
“The boy inside hurt himself. This one didn’t hit him.”
Now the doctor’s suspicion turned to Father. It’s okay if I’m suspected, and it’s true that I hit him several times, so I have nothing to say. But our Father is too upright a clergyman to be suspected, so I had no choice but to open my mouth.
“The last time and the time before that were my doing, but this time my brother really hurt himself because he couldn’t control himself. So, I was wondering… do you know any good psychiatrists?”
When the doctor didn’t say anything to my words, Father waved his hand.
“It’s true that our kid hits people sometimes, but he’s become rough trying to be the leader among his siblings. Still, the kid doesn’t lie. Of course, he did get engaged to some man without telling his father… but he doesn’t lie, doctor. Won’t you help us a bit?”
The look in Father’s eyes when he glanced at me while mentioning ‘getting engaged to some man without telling his father’ was very cold. He seemed to still be upset. Well, I did force the engagement, but the last thing I heard from Father before the engagement was ‘Not that bastard!’
The doctor looked back and forth between Father and me, then sighed.
“I do know someone good. I’ll give you their contact information after the treatment is over.”
That was a relief.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
