But there was no real problem. We purposely passed through a shady alley, and the thugs came at Reid on their own and ended up paying him money.

“A w-wizard...?”

“Sniff, the mana detector definitely didn’t react...”

There’s no way a crude item a thug can get would detect a 9-circle aura.

Some of them confused stubbornness with courage and made useless resistance.

“You arrogant wizard bastard!”

“The kid must be the weak point! Aim for the kid!”

“I’ll try! After all, I’m an aura user!”

“...Who do you aim for?”

Behind Reid, ten hidden blades appeared like a folding screen.

One by one, they curved through the air and pierced right next to the thugs’ faces or narrowly between their legs.

“Eek! Aura master!”

“A wizard, huh! Why the hell can a wizard use aura so skillfully?”

“Damn it! God is unfair!”

[‘Scales Judging the Soul’ snorts derisively, asking where the body of a wizard is supposed to be in that.]

The last thug’s shout seemed to strike a chord with Reid. He withdrew his hands, radiating killing intent.

“That’s a sound I like. I’ll let you live.”

“R-really?”

“But you have to surrender at the security station by today.”

“Alright!”

The thugs’ eyes gleamed with cunning as well as joy. For now, they said okay and left, but they certainly had no intention of surrendering.

And the price of that choice was their lives—the brand Reid secretly planted on their necks would explode like bombs.

<What kind of merciful game is this?>

“But still, that’s a lot of improvement in personality.”

Besides, those thugs probably killed a few people without blinking. Picking the wrong target only cheapens sympathy.

Anyway, after that, rumors spread fast through the back alleys, and no one dared to challenge Reid anymore.

Reid sighed over the weight of the silver coins in his pocket and said to me,

“With this money, I think I can only buy off-the-rack clothes.”

“You’ll be back to your original body in 15 days anyway. Custom clothes would just waste time waiting.”

“I don’t plan to wait.”

“You don’t mean you’re going to steal clothes made for someone else?”

“Steal? I’d rather call it receiving concessions and consideration. If the world loves me, that’s basic, isn’t it?”

Well, that was the reason for world conquest.

At this point, such tyranny and evil no longer needed rationalization. I ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) nodded as if hearing a perfectly reasonable statement.

Meanwhile, Reid made a financial plan.

“I need to run a dungeon once to raise funds.”

“You’re going alone?”

“No way. I’m not leaving you behind.”

“Then avoid cruel, violent, or explicit dungeons.”

Because of the genre, 19+ dungeons are off-limits.

Speaking of dungeons reminded me.

The last time I completed the ‘Final Mastermind Leader Stage 6’ quest, I received dungeon-related rewards.

[ ‘Event Dungeon Entrance Ticket (5)’

Proof of right to enter event dungeons with abundant rewards anytime.

‘Language That Builds Worlds’ created these dungeons to pour you rewards somehow; one will open randomly.

Note: It has a synergy effect with the ‘Genre Change Voucher Trial Version,’ so try using them together.]

The five tickets shone brilliantly like holograms and were carefully kept in my inventory.

The promise of rich rewards was tempting, but the fact that it functioned with the genre change voucher was meaningful.

‘Will I fall into a gingerbread house kind of place in the parenting genre?’

Curious, but I decided to shelve my experimental spirit. Generally, rewards correlate with difficulty, and it seemed hard to maximize rewards in this genre.

We left the alleys and entered a well-policed shopping street. We went into a children’s off-the-rack clothing store and picked the most expensive, highest-quality outfit.

After changing into a chick-yellow dress covered in frills, the parenting genre felt real.

“This should do.”

“Not buying extras?”

I looked a bit glum, thinking we were so short on money, but that wasn’t it.

“After thinking it over, I don’t think it’s necessary.”

“Why not?”

“Once we return to the magic tower, bribery and gifts will be piled up. Flatterers are especially quick to react.”

His indifferent tone felt less like corruption and more like worldly wisdom.

“Let’s go.”

Though I had shoes that fit perfectly, Reid still didn’t let my feet touch the ground.

There was a reasonable reason he kept carrying me in one arm.

“You’re so small, you’d get crushed in the crowd. I can’t just sweep everyone aside.”

“Okay, I’ll stay calm.”

Even while being carried, I felt a little empty. Reid just laughed throatily as if pleased with something.

Alright, as long as you’re happy.

[‘The Balancing Cynic’ wonders why you haven’t corrupted despite sticking so close to Reid all this time.]

[‘Eye Watching the Chaos of All Things’ answers that it’s because the genre’s pure attributes are strong.]

[‘Scales Judging the Soul’ sighs deeply, lamenting.]

So-called blessings of the parenting genre.

We decided to rest for a while and entered a nearby dessert cafe.

Sitting by the terrace watching the flowerbed flowers, I felt many gazes on us. Many glanced at Reid sideways.

“Look at that man.”

“Oh my, he’s handsome.”

I understood.

A handsome man with sculpted features and a deadly aura was the most dazzling among the summer blooms, attracting attention naturally.

Moreover, normally he would exude an untouchable energy, but now, having healed from the 17th round’s dream or maybe healing in real time within the parenting genre, his aura was softened.

The lowered barrier seemed to give hope to the surrounding women.

“Is he alone?”

“Hey, someone go talk to him.”

“Can’t lose by trying, I’ll give it a shot...”

“Alright? Send dessert and wink when making eye contact.”

The ultimate handsome mastermind elegantly sliced a strawberry shortcake, apparently oblivious to the flirtations around him.

This won’t do. Here, I had to help.

I jumped onto a chair and leaned over the table as if climbing.

“Ai?”

Regardless of surprise, I poked a fork into the strawberry garnish on the cake, then offered it to Reid, shouting loudly,

“Eat this, Daddy!”

“......”

I shouted again, worried he hadn’t heard.

“Eat! Daddy!”

“......”

Suddenly, the surrounding noise died completely.

This chillingly cold air—I liked it very much.

I glanced around.

“What? There’s even a kid here...”

“The mood’s ruined...”

The sparkling eyes that coveted Reid dimmed one by one. The women who had been about to send dessert and flirt signaled the staff to stop and lost interest.

Success.

[‘Scales Judging the Soul’ laughs heartily at your wicked scheme.]

[‘Architect of the Tower of Trials’ shakes his head, saying blocking the possibility of a harem story was an invincible cheat key.]

[‘The Balancing Cynic’ chuckles, saying that being the mastermind’s daughter is indeed classic parenting genre.]

I smiled triumphantly and straightened my head again. Reid was right in front of me, stunned with a blank expression and lost reaction.

“Daddy?”

“......”

“Me?”

“......”

“Yours?”

“......”

He was out of it for a long time. The shock of suddenly becoming father and daughter was probably overwhelming.

When I tried to explain it was just a strategic prank, fate struck again.

“Oh my. Hilde, did you just hear that? That kid who looks exactly like Sister Holy Knight said that.”

“W-what! So that’s the relationship between His Highness and the Duke of Magic...!”

We ran into familiar faces passing by the terrace.

The cute assassin Ash and the precious Lingering Language Sect deputy bishop Hilde.

✠

We decided to move to a private place to talk.

The place we chose was the ‘Night Flying Bird’ restaurant, located on the ground floor of the Assassin’s Guild headquarters.

There were no other customers besides me, Reid, Hilde, and Ash sitting around the table.

When Fligel brought out various desserts and drinks, Ash opened the conversation.

“How old were you when you got into trouble with Sister Holy Knight?”

Pfft.

I snorted milk out and Hilde gently dabbed my soft cheek and lips with a napkin.

While receiving her kind and skillful touch, Reid seemed shocked in a way different from the dessert cafe.

“Trouble?”

“......”

“Me?”

“......”

“With Ayleth Rodeline?”

“......”

The impenetrable expression cracked, and his marble-like cheeks flushed with color.

It was an honest agitation unbefitting a 101-round regressor, usually indifferent to worldly affairs.