Chapter 4
A quick recap to pick up from last time: Rudy discovers the magic book and tries a bunch of water spells, which soak up the floor. He's still physically a baby, which means that we still haven't been introduced to some kind of conflict in this story.
I turned three years old. I’d recently, finally, learned my parents’ names. My father was
Paul Greyrat. My mother was Zenith Greyrat. And my name was Rudeus Greyrat, the firstborn son of the Greyrat family. My parents didn’t refer to each other by their first names, and they called me “Rudy” for short, so it took some time to learn what all of our actual, formal names were.
I could have sworn that we, the readers, already knew all of this information back in chapter 2. The author could have shortened it to “I now know what my parents are called”. Another instance of information being regurgitated to us that should have stayed in the second chapter.
“My, Rudy really does love that book, doesn’t he?” Zenith said with a smile as I puttered about with A Textbook of Magic in hand, as I usually did. My parents didn’t seem bothered by the way I always lugged the book around. Even when I was eating, I’d keep it tucked under my arm. I did, however, make a point never to read it in front of them—not because I wanted to keep my talents a secret, but simply because I wasn’t sure what this world’s views on magic were. Back in my old world, for instance, witch hunts had been a thing—you know, where they’d burn suspected magicians alive for heresy.
It’s already been established since the first chapter that not only is his mother a former mage, she also isn't offended by magic itself without telling us.
It feels like the author is just padding out the length of these chapters with repetitive information.
Of course, considering that my magic textbook was something of a practical guide, magic probably wasn’t considered heresy in this world, but that didn’t mean people might not still take a dim view of it.
You know what would have been great to show in the last chapter? Zenith taking Rudy out to a town square where they witness a mage being arrested for practicing magic. Not only would it establish early on that he wasn't reincarnated into a wholesome fantasy world, it would also add…
Some conflict. Crazy thought, isn't it?
With all that in mind, I decided to keep my magical aptitude a secret from my family.
I want to say “they're not that stupid”, but this is Mushoku Tensei we’re talking about.
Our maid (whose name was Lilia, apparently)
WE KNOW WHAT HER NAME IS! WE SPENT A WHOLE ASS CHAPTER ESTABLISHING HER LORE!
I needed to flex my talents now, before they set and became too rigid. Now was the time for me to make the most of things.
You evidently don't know what kind of people your parents are. What if they get freaked out and assume that you’re a demon child who should be tossed to the wolves? What if they take this as a sign of you being a golden child and put you through rigid magic education that’ll burn you out before your tenth birthday?
I know I’m putting too much thought into this, let’s move on.
Then, one afternoon, my secret magic training came to an end. My magical reserves had grown a decent amount, so I went through the incantation for an Intermediate-tier spell rather casually.
The Water Cannon: Size 1, Speed 0.
Oh my god, who the hell cares?
If there’s one thing I hate seeing in books, it’s RPG stats. I don’t care if Rudy was a gamer in his previous life, it’s cringy and distracting.
I figured that, as usual, the water would pool into my bucket. Maybe it would flow over, but surely not by too much.
So, I cast the spell…and launched forth an impressive amount of water that blasted a massive hole in the wall. I stood there,
dumbstruck, watching as water dripped from the wooden edges of that hole. I was too flummoxed to think of what to do. Given the size of the hole, people would know it had been made by magical means. There was nothing I could do to change that now. I always had been quick to give up.
Hopefully Zenith knows some renovation magic to undo the property damage.
Paul was the first to rush into the room. “What happened?” he cried out. “Whoa!” His jaw dropped at the hole in the wall. “What the hell? Wait—Rudy! Are you okay?”
“Goddammit, I used used up the renovation budget for the deck in the backyard!”
Paul was a good guy. It was obvious that I was the one who’d done this, but all he cared about was that I was all right. He went on his guard, carefully checking the surroundings.
I don’t know about the “good guy” part.
Skipping ahead, his mother walks in and notices that the magic textbook is open.
”Rudy, did you speak some of the words from that book out loud?” Zenith asked.
“I’m sorry,” I replied with a tiny nod. A straightforward apology
was best when you’d done something wrong. I was the only one who could have done this, so lying about it would only damage my parents’ trust in me. Back in my old life, I told casual lie after casual lie until no one trusted me. I wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
“Sorry?” Paul asked. “That was an Intermediate-tier sp—“
It’s over for Rudy.
“Oh, honey, did you hear that?!” Zenith interrupted, practically squeaking. “Oh, I just knew our boy was a genius!” She balled her hands into tiny fists and hopped around in ecstasy. Well, she sure was in a good mood. I guess that meant the apology was accepted? Zenith was clearly thrilled by this development, but Paul still appeared at a loss.
Or not.
”Wait, hold on,” he said, looking at me. “We haven’t even taught you how to read yet, or—”
I am getting real sick of seeing “—“ getting abused in this story.
”We’ll have to hire a tutor for him right away! Oh, he’s going to grow up to be an amazing magician, I just know it!”
Zenith’s reaction to my ability to use magic was one of barely
contained glee. Evidently, my fears that children shouldn’t use magic were unfounded.
So much for having some semblance of conflict in a novel.
Anyways, Paul gets butthurt that Rudy isn’t going to be strictly trained as a swordsman as he and Zenith supposedly agreed.
Skipping ahead a little, they hire a tutor. So we know that his parents are loaded enough to afford a home tutor instead of waiting a couple years to send him to kindergarten.
Or whatever they have in that world.
Now, in a regular fantasy novel you might expect the tutor to be a well seasoned wizard like Merlin and on the older side.
And since there was no inn in our village, my teacher would be living with us. My parents were fairly certain that my teacher would be some retired adventurer. Young people wouldn’t come all this way to the boonies, and there was no shortage of jobs for royal magicians back in the capital. As I understood it, in this world, only Advanced-level magicians taught the arcane arts. So, whoever we got would at least be an Intermediate- or Advanced-level adventurer, possibly higher. In my mind’s eye, I pictured a middle-aged or elderly fellow with many years of diligent study under his belt, complete with the long beard that was requisite for such wizards.
If only this were a generic fantasy book from the 80s, then we’d have that guy.
“I’m Roxy. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” My expectations were quite off the mark. The person who showed up was a young girl, maybe of junior-high age. She was clad in brown, wizardly robes, her blue hair styled into braids, her posture prim and proper. Her white skin looked untouched by the sun, and her eyes were somewhat sleepy. Her expression didn’t exactly radiate sociability, and despite her lack of glasses, she looked like the sort of girl who liked to hole up in a library with her nose in a book.
Well, too bad we got a generic anime girl instead. Thanks, I hate it knowing that Rudy is gonna be a creep towards her. Illustration is okay with the photobashed background.
My parents looked her over, at a total loss for words. No
wonder, really. This couldn’t have been what they were expecting at all. When hiring someone to be a home tutor, you’d figure you’d get someone a bit further on in years. And instead, here was this little thing.
Do… people not interview others for jobs in this world?
With all video games I’d played, the idea of a magician loli wasn’t terribly unusual to me. Underage. Scornful eyes. Socially awkward. That right there was the trifecta. She was perfect. I wanted her to be my bride.
What a terrible day to be literate.
“Oh, uh, are—are you the home tutor?” Zenith finally asked.
“Aren’t you a little, uh…” Paul managed. My parents were fumbling with their words, so I decided to be direct and finish my father’s sentence. “You’re little.”
“Hey, you’re sure one to talk,” Roxy snapped back. She sure seemed to be touchy about the subject. And I wasn’t even talking about her breasts.
We’re only one page in and already sexualizing the child character. This is totally peak fiction and not something I think would put the Farms on a watchlist for sporking.
I gave Roxy a cheeky wink. Her eyes went wide, and she sighed once more. “Ugh, this happens sometimes,” she muttered under her breath. “Kid shows signs of growing up a little fast and the damn parents get it into their heads that he’s got a special talent.”
Well, unfortunately you’re stuck with the demon child. I hope you know some exorcist spells. Oh why do you ask? No reason.
“Oh, nothing,” she replied. “I’m just not sure that your son would be able to understand the principles of magic.”
“Oh, don’t you worry,” Zenith said, brimming with motherly
pride. “Our little Rudy here is brilliant!”
Yet again, Roxy sighed. “All right, then. I suppose I’ll just have to do what I can.” She sounded like she’d already decided it was futile. And so, that was the first day of taking classes with Roxy in the
morning and practicing swordplay with Paul in the afternoon.
Last I checked, Rudy is still three. That’s a lot for a toddler to be doing in one day, holy shit. Reincarnation or not.
So next day, they start training in the backyard and she shows off her skills.
“First, I’ll demonstrate. Let the vast and blessed waters converge where thou wilt and issue forth a single pure stream thereof—
Waterball!” As Roxy chanted her incantation, an orb of water about the size of a basketball formed in her palm. Then, she hurtled it at high speed at one of the trees in our yard. The Waterball snapped the tree in half as if it were a mere twig and drenched the fence behind it. That must’ve been a Size 3, Speed 4, if I had to guess.
I hate to be repetitive…
But holy shit the video game stats are distracting.
“Well?” Roxy asked. “What do you think?”
“My mom has always loved that tree and spends a lot of time
caring for it, so I think she’s gonna be pretty angry.”
“Huh? Really?!”
“Without a doubt.” One time, when Paul was swinging his sword around, he’d accidentally lopped off one of the tree’s branches, but Zenith hadn’t been terribly mad about it.
There’s a huge difference between lopping off a branch and cutting off a tree. At least, I would think so.
With a grunt, she hefted the fallen trunk back into place. Then,
red in the face and straining with exertion, she began to chant.
“Nngh… Let this divine power be as satisfying nourishment, giving one who has lost their strength the strength to rise again—Healing!” Slowly and surely, the trunk of the tree worked its way back into its original position. Okay, credit where credit is due: That was pretty amazing. “Whew!” Roxy breathed.
Thank god, for a second I thought that my favorite character in this entire book was going to stay dead.
Why is there a weird emphasis on her face being red? Maybe I’m overthinking it, but I don’t recall the other characters thus far being this hyper fixated on.
The basketball-sized Waterball struck its mark with a splash, the tree creaking and cracking as it fell over. Roxy fixed her gaze on this
sight, her expression stiffening.
“You cut your incantation off, didn’t you?” she asked.
“Yeah.” Uh-oh. Was I in trouble?
That’s right: The magic textbook didn’t say anything about casting spells without incantations. I’d done it as if it wasn’t a big deal, but maybe this was some cultural taboo? Or maybe she was angry that I’d pulled off something that should have required a lot more training? Hopefully, she’d just admonish me for being sloppy with my chanting or something.
“Do you usually cut your incantations short like that?” she
asked.
I wasn’t sure how to answer that, and after some wavering, decided to be honest. “I usually, uh…don’t use them at all.” After all, I was going to be studying under her, so she’d figure it out eventually. “Not at all?!” Roxy’s eyes were wide with shock and disbelief as she looked down at me.
Are we going to get some… conflict now?
“Ah, yes, now I get it. That makes sense. Are you feeling tired right now, then?”
“A little, but I’m all right.”
“I see. Well, the size and force of your Waterball was just fine.”
“Thank you.”
Finally, Roxy cracked a smile—a real one. And then she muttered to herself. “Maybe it is worth training this kid.”
Again, I can still hear you.
“Okay, let’s move on to the next spell,” Roxy said excitedly,
flipping through the magic book some more
“Aaaahh!” From behind us, a scream split the air. Zenith had
come outside to see how things were doing. She dropped the
beverage-laden tray she’d been carrying and brought both hands to her mouth as she looked over at the mangled, toppled tree. Sadness filled her face. A moment later, that sadness was replaced with livid anger. Shestomped over to Roxy, getting right in her face.
“Miss Roxy, honestly! Could you please not use my trees for experimentation?”
“Hey! Rudy’s the one who did it!”
“If Rudy did it, it was because you let him!”
The whites of Roxy’s eyes grew, her body tensing as if a
thunderclap had just gone off. Then she hung her head. Hey, that’s what you get for trying to shift the blame onto a three-year-old. “No, you’re absolutely right,” she murmured.
“Please see to it that this doesn’t happen again, young lady!”
“It won’t, ma’am. I’m so sorry.”
Zenith went over to the tree and restored it to its former beauty with her Healing magic before heading back into the house.
Something just occurred to me: If Zenith can also perform these skills, why isn’t she training Rudy? She’s home all day, isn’t she, so theoretically she could train him.
Then again I assume it’s for the same reason why some parents don’t bother teaching their own kids how to read.
“Miss…”
“Heh. I’m guessing I’ll be let go tomorrow.” She sat down on the
ground, drawing little circles in the dirt.
Wow. She really could not take even the slightest punishment,
could she? I stood next to her and patted her on the shoulder, but said nothing.
“Rudy?”
I wasn’t sure what to do after patting her on the shoulder. I hadn’t really struck up a conversation with anyone in close to twenty years, so I couldn’t find the words to comfort her. I honestly didn’t know what the right thing to say in this sort of situation was.
Finally some drama. It’s what the story needs!
No. I just needed to calm down and think. What would the protagonist of an adult dating sim say to comfort someone at a time like this?
PRO TIP: Don’t look to adult visual novels for situations like this unless you want to be seen as creepy.
Okay. I was pretty sure it would go something like this.
“You didn’t fail here, Miss.”
“Rudy…?”
“You just earned some more experience, that’s all.”
Roxy was taken aback. “Yes, you’re…you’re right. Thank you.”
“Uh-huh. So, could you please continue with our lesson?”
And so, right from day one, I formed a little bond with Roxy.
Eww.
I know we are meant to find this wholesome.
It’s tainted by the adult dating sim comment.
Moving on, Rudy spends the next few days training with Roxy and then training in Sword play with Paul. I still think that’d be physically too much for a child, but whatever.
One night, while practicing some magic, I heard the lascivious sounds of a creaking bedframe and lurid moaning coming from somewhere. Well, not “somewhere,” really—it was coming from Paul and Zenith’s bedroom. And my, were the sounds vigorous. In the not-too-distant future, I might be welcoming a little brother or sister. Hopefully a sister. No more younger brothers for me. In my mind’s eye, I could still see my past life’s younger brother winding up for a full swing with his bat, smashing my beloved PC to bits. I didn’t need a younger brother.
And you think a younger sister wouldn’t do the same if she caught you watching CP?
Man, how much more interesting would this series be if one of his siblings did reincarnate as a younger one though and he be forced to confront his past?
But a kid sister would be nice.
I don’t even want to know why you’d think that.
In my old life, I’d just stay put and bang on either the wall or the floor to shut people up whenever I was disturbed by sounds like these. Thanks to that, my older sister stopped bringing guys home entirely. Man, that brought back memories.
At the same time, I’d always thought people who did that sort of thing were blights on the world. It reminded me of the people who used to bully me, sneering down at me from a position out of me, reach, filling me with an anger I had no outlet for. Even if the perpetrator was somehow brought low to my level, he’d still look at me and ask, “What, you’re still here?”
It was the worst.
“Those goddamned DELINQUENT JERKS were getting all the pretty girls and leaving me with none to choose from.”
Even when hearing his parents fucking, he still ends up thinking about those gosh, darn dirty delinquents.
Maybe because I was now a child, or because it was my parents going at it, or just because I was more focused on my future, hearing them doing their business actually brightened my mood. I could tell roughly what they were getting up to just from the sounds. It seemed that Paul was pretty good in bed, too.
This chapter just keeps getting more and more cursed.
Hmm. As Paul’s son, maybe I’d inherited some of that sexual prowess? And one day, I would awaken to my powers, find my heroine, and make my way into the pink.
It’s official, I wish I was unable to read. I wish that I couldn’t understand a word of these last two paragraphs. What was the point of this scene? I don’t know but I want erase my literacy.
That sort of thing excited me at first, but it had recently grown stale, and I’d casually make my way down the hall to the toilet with the sounds of creaking resonating through the walls.
If you thought it couldn’t get worse, it does. I’m not reposting it here because I do not want to incite the wrath of Dear Leader, and so I’ll be frank: it’s a graphic description of Roxy pleasuring herself while listening to Rudy’s parents fuck.
I quietly crept back to my own room. Roxy was in the
grip of adolescence, after all, and I had the decency to pretend that I hadn’t seen anything. Or, well, something like that. I definitely liked what I had seen, anyway.
Knowing that this is a man in his late thirties saying this towards someone that is much younger than him… I am going to need an entire bottle of bleach to blind myself with.
Throughout the next few pages, he keeps going on and on about how attractive he thinks Roxy is and tries using pick up lines on her that he learned from hentai.
Then, they finally get into some world building about a human-demon war that happened.
“So then, demons are just more evolved version of fiends?” I
asked.
“No, demons are completely different. The name‘demon’
comes from a time long ago when the races of men and demons battled one another.”
“Is that the Great Human-Demon War you mentioned earlier?”
“That’s right,” Roxy said. “The first conflict happened around
seven thousand years ago.”
“Wow, that’s so long ago it’s almost dizzying to think about.”
This world evidently had quite a long history.
“Oh, it’s not all that long ago. Humans and demons were still at
war with one another as recently as four hundred years ago. It
started seven thousand years ago, and the two sides have been in conflict off and on ever since.”
Four hundred years sounded pretty long ago as is, but seven
thousand years of ongoing fighting? Humans and demons must really not get along.
“Well, it’s a little hard to actually define,” Roxy said.
The simplest way to put it, according to her, was that “demons”
included whoever fought on the demons’ side in the most recent conflict. But this, too, had its exceptions.
“I’m a demon myself, actually,” she said.
“Oh. You—you are?”
I had a demon for a home tutor. Which I supposed meant that
there wasn’t any conflict going on right now. Giving peace a chance really was the way to go, huh?
“That’s right,” Roxy said. “More formally put, I’m one of the
Migurd, from the Biegoya Region of the Demon Continent. You must have noticed your parents’ surprise when they first saw me, right, Rudy?”
“I figured that was because you’re little.”
“I am not little,” Roxy huffed. That was clearly a sore spot with
her. “They were surprised by the color of my hair.” “Your hair?” I thought it was a very pretty shade of blue, personally.
“They say that, for the demonic races, the closer our hair is to
green, the more savage we tend to be. Depending on the lighting, my hair can look pretty green, too.”
Green, huh? Was that this world’s danger color, then?
Roxy’s hair was a striking sky-blue color, and she twirled a finger in her bangs as she explained herself. Her mannerisms were adorable. Back in Japan, blue hair was the sort of thing I’d associate with punks or older women. When I saw people like that, I always thought it was unusual—but there was nothing unusual or off-putting about Roxy’s blue locks.
Does this mean that Paul and Zenith are confirmed to be racist against green haired people?
“I think your hair is pretty,” I said.
“Oh, thank you very much. But that’s the sort of thing you
should say to a girl you like after you’ve grown up.”
I didn’t miss my opening. “I like you, Miss!” I couldn’t help it; hitting on cute girls is what I do.
“I see. Well, in another ten or fifteen years, if your feelings
haven’t changed, please feel free to tell me that again.” She’d pretty cleanly rebuffed me, but I still caught the happy look that crossed her face. I wasn’t sure how much the ‘Nice Guy’ skills I’d honed by playing hentai games would help me in this world, but the answer clearly wasn’t “nowhere.” Jokes and lines that were old and played-out backin Japan might well be unique and passionate ways to win over someone’s heart here.
Okay, yeah, I’m not sure what I was trying to get at, either. The
point is that Roxy was cute and naughty and I wanted to push her buttons. The considerable age gap between us was definitely an issue, though. Maybe something to think about for the future.
I can see why people label Rudy a groomer now, as if it weren’t apparent before.
Roxy continued. “The Migurd and Superd peoples are closely
related, and I’ve heard we used to get treated much the same as
they were.” She paused to make sure she had my attention. “I
imagine your parents will probably tell you something like this soon
enough, but if you ever see someone with emerald-green hair and
what looks like a red jewel set in their forehead, make sure you don’t
go anywhere near them. And if interacting with one is unavoidable,
whatever you do, make sure you don’t make them mad.”
Emerald-green hair and a red jewel in the forehead? She must
have been describing the Superd to me.
“What’ll happen if I make them mad?”
“You might get your entire family killed.”
“You said emerald green, with a red jewel in their forehead,
right?”
A year passes by, there’s more magic lessons with Roxy.
One day, out of the blue, I decided to ask Roxy, “Would it be better if I called you ‘Master’ instead of just ‘Miss’?”
Roxy scrunched up her face awkwardly. “No, probably best not
to. I’m sure you’ll easily surpass me soon enough.”
I had enough talent to be better than Roxy? It was enough to make me blush.
“After all, it’d be weird to call someone whose powers were
inferior to yours ‘Master,’” Roxy added.
“I don’t think it’s that weird.”
“Well, it’d be weird for me. I’d never outlive the shame of
having someone who’s clearly better than me referring to me as ‘Master.’”
Ah. Was that what this was all about, then? “Are you saying that
because you got stronger than your own master, Miss Roxy?”
“Listen, Rudy: A master is someone who says they have nothing
else they can teach you, but still butts in with their advice on each and every thing you do.”
“You wouldn’t do that, though, Miss Roxy.”
“I might.”
“Even if you did, I’d be honored.” Roxy always looked pretty
satisfied with herself whenever she advised me on things; I probably had quite the grin on my own face when plying her with
compliments.
“Oh, no. If I became that resentful of my own student’s talents,
there’s no telling what I might blurt out.”
“Like what sorta things?”
“Stuff like how I’m just a filthy demon, or how you’re just some
country hick.”
Wow, did Roxy seriously just say that to me? I felt sort of bad for her. Being discriminated against wasn’t great, after all. But I guess that’s what you get when there’s a hierarchy to your relationship with someone.
“It’ll be fine,” I said. “Just act like you’re better than me!”
“I’m not going to act all haughty and superior just because I’m
older! I’m just not comfortable having a master-pupil relationship with such an imbalance of talent!”
She shot me down real quick; it looked like my bond with me and master had taken a turn for the worse. In my mind, I decided that I’d still think of her as my master regardless.
You know, if it weren’t for Rudy being a creep trapped in a child’s body… and if he actually acted like a kid, some of these conversations would have some heart to them.
But no, this is a wish fulfillment isekai where we can’t have any pure stories.
That’s the end of this chapter. It was a massive displeasure to read, even more so than usual.
Until next time, I’m off to work.
